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.
[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.]
[ 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. ]
[Interestingly, Kylo Ren does not seem to shy from the assumption that this will be happening again. In fact, the way her confession spills out, he almost seems taken by surprise himself — not on the assumption, but with the greediness she has accepted his lesson.]
Oh. Is that so?
[It makes him hungry again, even through his exhaustion. But Kylo Ren cannot even lift his body, let alone start the cycle over again. The most he can do is move a hand to her throat and, with light pressure to deny her some air, drag her into another sloppy kiss.]
Then I suppose I will need to find other ways to punish you.
[ Rey allows herself to be dragged because she cannot imagine her limbs allowing anything else. But the tilt of her chin, the way she makes more room for his large hand around her throat, suggests that even if she were in the shape to put up a reasonable protest, she wouldn't.
The steady throbbing aftershocks of her orgasm feel more pronounced, with the web of his thumb compressing her windpipe. She sinks lazily into the kiss, though for this one she musters some cursory probing of her tongue. Indulgent. Saccharine.
It's different than the other times he has tried to control her body in various ways. This is for their mutual satisfaction, and beyond that, there is no real, malicious intent. She feels safe instead of threatened. Assured that he will treat her well. That's as intoxicating as anything else. ]
Good. [ She hums, then rests her head against his shoulder in the absence of a second pillow on the bed. The angle of her neck isn't ideal, but her body is too relaxed to protest. ] You're surprised. [ She studies his face, though her eyes are half-hooded as she does. ] You didn't think I'd like it.
[More importantly, he feared she might think him strange or monstrous for craving it himself. The familiarity of learning lessons via what might be seen as negative reinforcement. Rey was -- different than he was, in that way. She consistently craved that validation and saccharine romantic contact. Kylo Ren found pleasure in these things as well, but the constant hunger in him demanded more. Something physical, something that appealed to the darker impulses he was constantly fighting with.
Pain and struggle were easier things for him to understand. The softer expressions of love -- they made him feel awkward and vulnerable in ways he did not enjoy quite as much. But he does not have the language to explain this to her.]
[ The little noise of agreement shares that sentiment. She's glad, too. That he shared, instead of holding it back from her. That they can share this, now. She had been surprised, too, by how simultaneously gentle he was through it, how it would siphon praise out of him so freely, so openly. Combined with the sheer biochemical release of hormones from the pain-pleasure combo, it's addictive.
For a moment, as she catches her breath and it starts to even out, it sounds like she might have fallen asleep. She'd like to. She doesn't even react when her stomach growls unhelpfully. ]
You were chattier when I had your cock in my mouth. [ She notes this with some amusement. ] Give me a bit. I'll get back to it. [ This is the easiest vehicle by which she can explain that she enjoyed how he spoke to her, while they were going at it. Clear enough, she thinks. So she diverts to— ] Or we'll switch. What you did to me, is that how you want it too?
[Kylo Ren's mumble is sleepy -- obviously, he had fallen asleep in the quiet between them. But, in spite of his grumbling, he makes no move to release her for the trouble. His eyes only slide open when she asks about switching, his adam's apple bobbing with the heavy swallow he takes and the tips of his ears coloring red again.
He doesn't know how to ask for what he wants, or how to offer it to her. But it's clear he is trying, his lips shifting and attempting to form a few words that never quite become anything other than senseless mumbling.
Until:]
I -- like when you take control. Yes.
[That's not quite what she's asking though, is it? So he nods a small confirmation, One hand reaching up to pet over her head affectionately.]
When you use me.
[He hadn't forgotten the first night he had lost his nerve. Feeling her on the other end of the bond on the other side of the bathroom door, using the memory and thought of him to finish what he'd started in the absence of his body. But she has his body now -- there's nothing to stop her.
[ She hadn't thought of it that way. 'Use' sounds like such a cruel word for it, but she gathers his meaning from her few insistences on pushing his boundaries. Each time, he'd left her feeling like she'd done something wrong in wanting him that way. But she grapples with it now.
Maybe he just didn't know how to want. ]
I thought you didn't want me. [ She shares that with the same forcefulness that she's made other confessions to him. Rushed out, throaty. ] How will I know if ...? [ If he actually wanted her to push him like that, or if she needed to back down? It sounds like a dangerous question to ask. ]
[He understands why she would think that. Truthfully, he wasn't sure that he did -- or rather, he knew he wanted her, but was afraid of what it would lead to. What it might turn him into. But now that he has it, he can't imagine how he lived without her.
His hand moves from her head to her face. For the moment, he can't imagine not wanting anything she offered him. But still:]
You'll know.
[They have the bond, stronger than ever. They couldn't escape it now.]
[ Obviously she isn't worried about physical wounds. Enough of the scars that map his body belong to her. As she says this, her nose rests at the base of one of them, near his clavicle. But ... He has normalized a lot of things that scare her. She kisses his neck then, and his jaw, and in doing so lifts her head so she can easily nudge her nose against his cheek.
Clinging, as she so often is. But now she has license to make the emotional physical.
Fortunately, she doesn't leave him to flounder with that emotional statement for long. She knows how he is, how difficult it will be for him to receive. After a respectable pause, she moves on to: ] Do you want me to spank you?
[ He's huge. It's an unexpected mental picture, but she's rolling it around in her mind. ]
[He follows her train of thought, the way she's trying to picture what that might look like. It's intimidating, perhaps, not unlike they had both been frightened of whether or not he would fit inside of her. He can only think of one way to make it easier, both for him to vocalize and for her to accept.]
Hm.
[His hum is low and curious, jaw tilting upwards pliantly in response to her attention. One of his hands moves to hold her own, toying with her fingers.]
[ Predictable, maybe, in how the heat rises in her voice. ] I can do it.
[ Maybe. She's not sure she has the steadiness, the reserve for it, but she can try, if that's what he wants. And she presumes that he does, from that reply. He won't state it clearly, but he's obviously put consideration towards it. ]
[He smiles in the most playful way Kylo Ren can manage, lifting her hand to kiss her knuckles in response. He's not convinced that she can dig down and separate herself from the act of hurting him, even if it brings him pleasure.
That's, at least, what the echo of her words tells him.]
[ Obviously. She'd asked him to give her a model to go off of, she was poking at his preferences. What did he think she was planning? Rey sounds steadier than she feels. Her body is still loose and sleepy. But she resolves herself, now perceiving a need for reassurance. ]
I'll try. [ She might not be any good at it. He'd said himself she would never turn. But she could try, for him. And he deserved to hear "I'll try" for a change. ] I want to try.
[Kylo Ren leans down, pressing his lips to her forehead. "Try" lacks the confidence she will need to follow through, so he seeks to provide it another way. He is exhausted -- but he knows what she needs to hear now. The bond makes it clear.]
You won't hurt me. Not the way you're afraid of.
[His lips trails down her cheek and to her chin, where his teeth think.]
[ She shivers, knowing full and well how true that is from experience now. Rey shuts her eyes and exhales quietly, a seething breath which releases with it all her various anxieties. She can embrace it.
She wriggles closer to him, an impossible effort which ultimately does nothing but express her interest. ]
I know you will. [ It's a conscious decision, sharing that out loud instead of implicitly. ] I did. [ She wants him to understand that. Wants him to feel sure like she does. ]
[Something in him prickles with anticipation when she moves closer and makes her proclamations. His mouth is horribly dry, he realizes suddenly. His body still feels boneless, even for how he feel his craving for her return with new vigor.]
Go on then.
[The small voice that tells him this is a mistake is crushed by his desire.]
[ She asks it in a low voice, thick with sleep. She nuzzles into his shoulder, tightening her hold. It's a cuddle hold, not an attempt to stir something, even if she feels familiar liquid heat stirring. She wants to. And he's right, talking about it has served to tease. But her body's just not up for follow-through right now. Her thighs need time enough to recover before she thinks about riding him again.
And when she does as he asks, she will be riding him again. Her hips shift to briefly bump her clit against his thigh, and she hums her sleepy appreciation of it. ]
After sleep. [ She promises. ] When the flooding drains. Before we leave.
[In more ways than one. But he can sense her exhaustion, the way she reaches again for sleep even as she shifts happily on top of him. His exhale following is heavy, defeated, conciliatory.]
Fine. After sleep.
[If nothing else, it will prove that he has no plans to leave. At least, he hope so. His arms circle back around her, pulling her close like a security blanket and so that he can rest his chin on the top of her head.]
I didn't mean to. I didn't think you'd fallen asleep already.
[ The conciliatory statement is needling, in some ways. In the bond it nags as somewhat disingenuous, and the rationale for that becomes a little clearer by the look on her face, which hides mischief between a failingly placid expression.
She isn't too be blamed, though. She had warned him of misbehavior. ]
His dreams are no help in this regard. They are filthy and unending, filling in where Rey had left him the night before and the only thing that keeps him still during them is the fact that Rey is pinned under his arms. When his eyelids finally slide open, he swears he can still feel the sting of her hand, a shortness of breath where she had held him down, a faint smell of something coppery, and a thick weight between his legs.
Only one of those is a tangible thing. When he moves to shift, to allow feeling back in his arms, he grunts to feel the thickness of his already hard cock plastered beneath her ass. His ears redden immediately.]
[ Ben's arousal preoccupies her dreams, but only in the abstract. Something gnawing and dark chases her, grabs for her, gropes her from the shadows, always interested in swallowing her down. Pulling her somewhere deep and dark. But it doesn't feel toxic and bleak as her nightmares of drowning had. These molten shadows are passion and fever and need. She feels wanted.
But she never really rests, trying to outrun them, because at no point in the night is Ben's desire sated, quieted. When she's stirred out of her sleep eventually by his faint movements, it takes her a moment to anchor herself in the reality — that he's wrapped around her back, clutching her like he once had, that solid mass pressing against her backside is that same arousal made flesh, and that the whole room still stinks of sweat and sex.
Rey's disorientation passes in the span of a few heart beats as she places what was real and what was dream, when the last part of her waking hours before sleep had felt so much like the start of sleep itself, dreams she'd had before. But they were too vivid to be anything but real. And the proof is against her back.
As she orients herself, the particulars of their conversation return too. Ah. That's right.
[She will no doubt feel his embarrassment bleed outward when she calls him out, his heartbeat quickening and his stomach dropping into a void. How was he supposed to explain this? The question is superficial, he knows, but he would be lying if he wasn't still trying to come down from his dreams last night.
It was different, in the moment. Now, he feels like he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.]
I -- I just. It's nothing. Sometimes--
[His voice tapers off uselessly and he moves with the intent of crawling off the bed, only to find that there's no real bed left to crawl off of.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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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.]
You're perfect.
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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.
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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.]
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[ 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. ]
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Oh. Is that so?
[It makes him hungry again, even through his exhaustion. But Kylo Ren cannot even lift his body, let alone start the cycle over again. The most he can do is move a hand to her throat and, with light pressure to deny her some air, drag her into another sloppy kiss.]
Then I suppose I will need to find other ways to punish you.
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The steady throbbing aftershocks of her orgasm feel more pronounced, with the web of his thumb compressing her windpipe. She sinks lazily into the kiss, though for this one she musters some cursory probing of her tongue. Indulgent. Saccharine.
It's different than the other times he has tried to control her body in various ways. This is for their mutual satisfaction, and beyond that, there is no real, malicious intent. She feels safe instead of threatened. Assured that he will treat her well. That's as intoxicating as anything else. ]
Good. [ She hums, then rests her head against his shoulder in the absence of a second pillow on the bed. The angle of her neck isn't ideal, but her body is too relaxed to protest. ] You're surprised. [ She studies his face, though her eyes are half-hooded as she does. ] You didn't think I'd like it.
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[More importantly, he feared she might think him strange or monstrous for craving it himself. The familiarity of learning lessons via what might be seen as negative reinforcement. Rey was -- different than he was, in that way. She consistently craved that validation and saccharine romantic contact. Kylo Ren found pleasure in these things as well, but the constant hunger in him demanded more. Something physical, something that appealed to the darker impulses he was constantly fighting with.
Pain and struggle were easier things for him to understand. The softer expressions of love -- they made him feel awkward and vulnerable in ways he did not enjoy quite as much. But he does not have the language to explain this to her.]
But I am glad you did.
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[ The little noise of agreement shares that sentiment. She's glad, too. That he shared, instead of holding it back from her. That they can share this, now. She had been surprised, too, by how simultaneously gentle he was through it, how it would siphon praise out of him so freely, so openly. Combined with the sheer biochemical release of hormones from the pain-pleasure combo, it's addictive.
For a moment, as she catches her breath and it starts to even out, it sounds like she might have fallen asleep. She'd like to. She doesn't even react when her stomach growls unhelpfully. ]
You were chattier when I had your cock in my mouth. [ She notes this with some amusement. ] Give me a bit. I'll get back to it. [ This is the easiest vehicle by which she can explain that she enjoyed how he spoke to her, while they were going at it. Clear enough, she thinks. So she diverts to— ] Or we'll switch. What you did to me, is that how you want it too?
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[Kylo Ren's mumble is sleepy -- obviously, he had fallen asleep in the quiet between them. But, in spite of his grumbling, he makes no move to release her for the trouble. His eyes only slide open when she asks about switching, his adam's apple bobbing with the heavy swallow he takes and the tips of his ears coloring red again.
He doesn't know how to ask for what he wants, or how to offer it to her. But it's clear he is trying, his lips shifting and attempting to form a few words that never quite become anything other than senseless mumbling.
Until:]
I -- like when you take control. Yes.
[That's not quite what she's asking though, is it? So he nods a small confirmation, One hand reaching up to pet over her head affectionately.]
When you use me.
[He hadn't forgotten the first night he had lost his nerve. Feeling her on the other end of the bond on the other side of the bathroom door, using the memory and thought of him to finish what he'd started in the absence of his body. But she has his body now -- there's nothing to stop her.
And really, he could get off from that alone.]
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[ She hadn't thought of it that way. 'Use' sounds like such a cruel word for it, but she gathers his meaning from her few insistences on pushing his boundaries. Each time, he'd left her feeling like she'd done something wrong in wanting him that way. But she grapples with it now.
Maybe he just didn't know how to want. ]
I thought you didn't want me. [ She shares that with the same forcefulness that she's made other confessions to him. Rushed out, throaty. ] How will I know if ...? [ If he actually wanted her to push him like that, or if she needed to back down? It sounds like a dangerous question to ask. ]
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His hand moves from her head to her face. For the moment, he can't imagine not wanting anything she offered him. But still:]
You'll know.
[They have the bond, stronger than ever. They couldn't escape it now.]
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[ Obviously she isn't worried about physical wounds. Enough of the scars that map his body belong to her. As she says this, her nose rests at the base of one of them, near his clavicle. But ... He has normalized a lot of things that scare her. She kisses his neck then, and his jaw, and in doing so lifts her head so she can easily nudge her nose against his cheek.
Clinging, as she so often is. But now she has license to make the emotional physical.
Fortunately, she doesn't leave him to flounder with that emotional statement for long. She knows how he is, how difficult it will be for him to receive. After a respectable pause, she moves on to: ] Do you want me to spank you?
[ He's huge. It's an unexpected mental picture, but she's rolling it around in her mind. ]
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Hm.
[His hum is low and curious, jaw tilting upwards pliantly in response to her attention. One of his hands moves to hold her own, toying with her fingers.]
I suppose your hands are rather small.
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[ Predictable, maybe, in how the heat rises in her voice. ] I can do it.
[ Maybe. She's not sure she has the steadiness, the reserve for it, but she can try, if that's what he wants. And she presumes that he does, from that reply. He won't state it clearly, but he's obviously put consideration towards it. ]
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[He smiles in the most playful way Kylo Ren can manage, lifting her hand to kiss her knuckles in response. He's not convinced that she can dig down and separate herself from the act of hurting him, even if it brings him pleasure.
That's, at least, what the echo of her words tells him.]
Will you?
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[ Obviously. She'd asked him to give her a model to go off of, she was poking at his preferences. What did he think she was planning? Rey sounds steadier than she feels. Her body is still loose and sleepy. But she resolves herself, now perceiving a need for reassurance. ]
I'll try. [ She might not be any good at it. He'd said himself she would never turn. But she could try, for him. And he deserved to hear "I'll try" for a change. ] I want to try.
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You won't hurt me. Not the way you're afraid of.
[His lips trails down her cheek and to her chin, where his teeth think.]
I'll enjoy it.
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She wriggles closer to him, an impossible effort which ultimately does nothing but express her interest. ]
I know you will. [ It's a conscious decision, sharing that out loud instead of implicitly. ] I did. [ She wants him to understand that. Wants him to feel sure like she does. ]
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Go on then.
[The small voice that tells him this is a mistake is crushed by his desire.]
Don't tease.
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[ She asks it in a low voice, thick with sleep. She nuzzles into his shoulder, tightening her hold. It's a cuddle hold, not an attempt to stir something, even if she feels familiar liquid heat stirring. She wants to. And he's right, talking about it has served to tease. But her body's just not up for follow-through right now. Her thighs need time enough to recover before she thinks about riding him again.
And when she does as he asks, she will be riding him again. Her hips shift to briefly bump her clit against his thigh, and she hums her sleepy appreciation of it. ]
After sleep. [ She promises. ] When the flooding drains. Before we leave.
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[In more ways than one. But he can sense her exhaustion, the way she reaches again for sleep even as she shifts happily on top of him. His exhale following is heavy, defeated, conciliatory.]
Fine. After sleep.
[If nothing else, it will prove that he has no plans to leave. At least, he hope so. His arms circle back around her, pulling her close like a security blanket and so that he can rest his chin on the top of her head.]
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[ The conciliatory statement is needling, in some ways. In the bond it nags as somewhat disingenuous, and the rationale for that becomes a little clearer by the look on her face, which hides mischief between a failingly placid expression.
She isn't too be blamed, though. She had warned him of misbehavior. ]
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His dreams are no help in this regard. They are filthy and unending, filling in where Rey had left him the night before and the only thing that keeps him still during them is the fact that Rey is pinned under his arms. When his eyelids finally slide open, he swears he can still feel the sting of her hand, a shortness of breath where she had held him down, a faint smell of something coppery, and a thick weight between his legs.
Only one of those is a tangible thing. When he moves to shift, to allow feeling back in his arms, he grunts to feel the thickness of his already hard cock plastered beneath her ass. His ears redden immediately.]
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But she never really rests, trying to outrun them, because at no point in the night is Ben's desire sated, quieted. When she's stirred out of her sleep eventually by his faint movements, it takes her a moment to anchor herself in the reality — that he's wrapped around her back, clutching her like he once had, that solid mass pressing against her backside is that same arousal made flesh, and that the whole room still stinks of sweat and sex.
Rey's disorientation passes in the span of a few heart beats as she places what was real and what was dream, when the last part of her waking hours before sleep had felt so much like the start of sleep itself, dreams she'd had before. But they were too vivid to be anything but real. And the proof is against her back.
As she orients herself, the particulars of their conversation return too. Ah. That's right.
Her eyes open. ]
What do you think you're doing?
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It was different, in the moment. Now, he feels like he's been caught with his hand in the cookie jar.]
I -- I just. It's nothing. Sometimes--
[His voice tapers off uselessly and he moves with the intent of crawling off the bed, only to find that there's no real bed left to crawl off of.]
It just happens.
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