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 pushes up onto her elbows first when he doesn't immediately join her. it takes no time for her to catch his meaning, glancing at his hands. logistics get in his way. she casts a cursory glance around the room and laughs, noticing then just how empty the expansive space is. not even properly decorated, but for this perpetual fixture she sits upon like a pedestal. ]
I didn't think to, believe it or not.
[ a not insignificant part of her reasons that, well, they've already soiled the thing, why worry about clean-up now. but then she has an idea.
rey reaches to take his hands in hers. there's a steadiness about the way she takes her time, though her intentions come clear through their link well before. at first, just a purpose, an intimacy. and perhaps a hint of playfulness. she brings his hands closer. they smell like salt and tang and something she can't place.
she meets his gaze as she sucks at his knuckle, and the same quality of that scent floods her mouth. the noise she makes to savor her own taste on his hands is, perhaps, exaggerated, a fact which would be clear in the space between them. she's tasted herself before. a mere curiosity, then, now something for her to leverage against him to entertain a reaction. ]
The hand she reaches for goes a little limp in her grip, but the other becomes a fistful of his own fluids as he clenches it reflexively in response. To an onlooker, he hardly as any reaction at all, but Rey has the benefit of being right in front of him. The concentrated furrow of his brow, the way his lips purse and then contract as he resists the urge to bite them, and the way he swallows down the flush that abruptly rises up the back of his neck.
Aside from all of that, she has the bond at her disposal, twice amplified thanks to their lack of distance between one another. She demands all of his attention with one simple gesture, and when he feels the pull of her on his own tongue, the finger attached to her knuckle of choice spasms slightly.
[ she takes her time drawing her tongue over the length of his finger before she wraps her mouth around it. perhaps if he weren't so responsive, it wouldn't be worth the effort. but she has learned to appreciate the nuance of ren's reactions, and that alone is worth savoring.
his next finger brushes against her cheek, leaving a sticky trail there, but she doesn't look bothered.
then she pulls back, saliva briefly bridging the gap between her lips and his fingertip. she pushes his hand back towards him. she's shown him what she wants, and now she expects he'll execute obediently.
her attention, meanwhile, turns to coaxing his other fist open. there's a bit of fire in his reply. were she less invested in scratching this particular itch, she might turn him away to teach him a lesson about biting back at her. instead, she has to take another route to the same destination. ]
I gave you permission to touch yourself. [ she drags her finger through the salt spilled into his palm. ] Not to finish. [ she leans in and her teeth scrape the heel of his palm. bad dog. ] I wasn't done yet.
[A piece of him is wishing he hadn’t bothered to worry about the mess. One thing he has learned about Rey is that she’s a dreadful tease. When she finally finishes with his hand, he is eager to reach up and finish the job, if only because it keeps him from making an even greater embarrassment of himself through displays of arrousal that he doesn’t quite have a grip on. It also gives him the opportunity to reach up and smear some of the excess from around his mouth, using the finger she had already licked clean. The taste of salt is still sharp on his tongue, but he mirrors her motions without complaint in spite of the raw feeling still sticking to his lips.
That is, until she scolds him for finishing without permission. It was not as if he would have been able to resist, between the bond and the more direct attention he’d been allowed to give himself. Thankfully, with his fingers pressed inside of his cheek, it keeps him from arguing, but there is no mistaking the indignation on the other side of their link.
She drags her teeth across his palm, and his fingers (forcefully opened) curl slightly in anticipation. But he also knows that if he doesn’t say something to acknowledge her displeasure, than she might simply walk off and leave him to deal with this himself. He forces himself to swallow, and pulls his hand out of his mouth to reply unbidden.]
Sorry.
[He has never particularly mastered the art of the apology, but a part of him is genuinely rankled by her disappointment even if he would not admit it verbally.]
[ the scrape of her teeth turns soft, lips pressed to his palm, reassuring. she can feel the edge of resentment building. she doesn't want that, not least of all because she has no use for resentment. she has seen what it can do, left untended in kylo ren. that kiss turns all tongue as she cleans his hand of any evidence of that transgression. a clean slate. ]
You can still make it up to me.
[ said as though such an opportunity were generous, forgiving, and not entirely rooted in her own desires. his hand is damp with her saliva now, but she still turns it to cup the side of her cheek as she gazes up at him.
rey gets up onto her knees on the desk so she can lean in and tell him, ] I'll help you. [ and at some point, disguised by all that movement, she releases his hand to allow hers to drift down his chest to where the end of his tunic half-covers his flaccid penis. ]
[As it turns out, Kylo Ren is still just as easily manipulated as ever. The press of her teeth turns its task to soothing his slightly bruised ego, and he seems to forget he was ever agitated in the first place. He allows her to guide his hand to her cheek, feeling her intent as she changes directions. He feels her hand reach the end of the material and takes a moment to marvel at the fact that they’re both half dressed still. At the time, he hadn’t even considered it a problem, and something about recognizing that again reactivates his interest.
But before she can do anything else, he takes one more stab of authority and leans in to steal a kiss from her, guiding her head with the hand she’d left on her cheek. He hadn’t quite managed to clean everything off yet, leaving his jawline a bit tacky to the touch. Its a non-verbal agreement comply with her demand to correct his previous error, nudging his hips into her hand.
He’d probably live to regret his enthusiasm later. His knees were already slightly weak with exhaustion from their most recent tryst.]
[ she can feel the way his focus tightens on her, the way he drinks her in and steps back for just a moment to examine their position. yes. that's what she wanted from him. someone to make her feel wanted and whole. when he seizes a messy kiss for himself, she is not put-off by the initiative he takes. rather, it seems so wholly unified with her intention that it warms her. they are, as ever, attuned to each other.
when he leans in, a smile spreads over her lips. he can feel it two-fold. she works him with both of her hands, a steady pace that doesn't seem overly concerned with if she'll need to take her time before he's ready to go again.
rey bites down on his lip, tugging at it; it serves the dual function of deepening the kiss and jolting him somewhat. she wants more of what she had felt start to come alive in him. her lips leave his, journey down to his jaw where her teeth scrape again, down to the pulse point in his neck. she had realized some time ago that this body, his body, was hers, just like the rest of him. ]
[His nails dig into her scalp when she bites at his lip, dragging down when she pulls away to lean into his neck. The loop starts again, and every bit of contact makes his hair stand on end, overstimulation chasing the bone deep need he feels once again stirring in his gut. Kylo Ren tilts his chin for her when he feels her teeth press over his pulse, which slowly begins its increase in anticipation. Its a fight not to hold his breath, but there is a shift in his jaw that suggests he is biting down on his cheek.
She is obscured from his vision when she leans in to focus on his pulse, but her intent is impossible to miss. His free hand, now no longer occupied bu his mouth, moves to nudge one of her arms aside so that he can reach one of her uncovered breasts. He takes her in his hand and starts a slow, tantilizing and circular motion, all while swallowing down the sound it threatens to pull from him.
Her choice of pace might have irritated him not long ago, but there is something to be said for the care she takes with him, and he resists the urge to search for more — at least, for the moment. He is slow to harden again, but her attention encourages him to shift how he stands to allow her more immedoate access, without the angle of the desk getting in their way. Better to allow her ownership of the situation.]
[ she can feel his fatigue in the lethargic way he responds to her, but she's determined, and he's not letting it stop him by any means. frankly she might be a little insulted if he did.
insubstantial as smoke at first, an ambient satisfaction slowly pools in her belly, stoked by his mounting response to her. it brings with it a sort of stifling heat across her skin. she nods her head into his neck, a quiet approving noise coming out against his skin. his sweat sticks on her tongue, a welcome reminder of where it came from.
his tunic stops her from going any further. that thing is still on. and on her, the dress bunched around her ribs and abdomen like some absurd belt. good for haste, not for the long game. she releases him only to pull the hem of his tunic up. he'll have to stop groping her to help her fully rid him of it, so she pulls her hands back then. ]
Take that off.
[ and instead of struggling with his further, she reaches down to pull her dress over her head. the material is light, but it's still heavier than anything else she'd worn before agreeing to this insanity. it weighed her down. she'd be glad to be rid of it and bare as the day she was born in this grand hall. ]
[He grunts in displeasure when he feels her stop in favor of grabbing at the hem of his tunic. Granted, it was his own fault, really — battle armor was hardly suitible for debasing his grandmother’s delegation chambers. He is forced to release her, pulling at he closures on his sleeves to open them first in order to peel off the entire outfit in one swift motion. Its almost like he’s done this before.
Kylo Ren is quick to move in again once he spots that she’s managed to lay herself bare, in an attempt to avoid giving her a good look at the various rips, burns, and tears in his skin. She was responsible for most of them, but they were from a different time, and they had already deliberated on them enough. But he also knows her compassion — it was what had made this whole thing possible. He doesn’t want old wounds interfering with the momentum they’ve already built.
Of course, the bond means he cannot hide his intent when he moves back in for her, reaching for her ribs and rubbing large thumbs upward to tease at her nipples.]
[ that insecurity is like a venom that taints the space between them. it lurks like a shadow, spilling over into the warmth of his reverence. because really, it's not reverence if he's only trying to draw attention away from himself. rey shuts her eyes, sighing in satisfaction of the attention to her breasts for only a moment before those dark eyes snap open and fix on him.
that gaze probes into his vulnerable places, and her fingers lift to chase them, following pocked scars like a starmap. let her fingertips press upon the injuries that she did not leave him with. her palm settles over his ribs where chewie's bowcaster humbled him.
her lips meanwhile find the small circular patch of scar tissue, pink and irritated, which rests near his shoulder. she had given him that. a jab. her tongue laps out to soothe a forgotten injury. then she reaches around him with her other hand, her fingertips caressing the path of her own lightsaber, able to track it in the angry burn that survives their animosity there.
they are gentle touches. assuring. enveloping. and yet glancing and short lived. ]
If you're touching me, I want it to be because you want me. [ she would never presume to ascribe love to this thing. she's still wary to suggest that kylo could even feel something like that, still. but want? need? hunger? yes. all this, and more. ] Not so you can hide. If you can't do that, you can keep your hands to yourself.
[He doesn’t shrink under the severity of her stare, but he catches her meaning enough to slow his attention on her until he is forced to grip the desk instead, caught in his own game with a shaky anf frustrated exhale. He doesn’t watch her map his failure (he doesn’t need to, he can feel it on two different olanes of awareness, and that makes it worse), instead chosing to try and swallow down both the bruises on his ego and the bitter taste of resentment he suddenly feels when she calls him out. Of course he wants her, almost as badly as he yearns to be wanted in return. But hiding is a habit he’s carried for a good twenty years of his life, and the fear that circles the darkness in him only amplifies with that recognition.
There is no verbal apology from him this time. Instead, he closes his eyes and forces his shoulders to relax, leaning heavily on the bond in an attempt to divorce himself of his shame. It doesn’t quite work, but it allows him to remind himself that — well, if there was going to be a dealbreaker, the scars she gifted him for his hubris would likely not be it. If this was another concession that had to be made, was it really so bad?
He swallows it.]
I do.
[It comes out with conviction as he opens his eyes again, shoulders flexing a bit more confidently as he encroaches her space more fully to rest his forehead against her own. His hands come up again to rub reverently along her thighs.]
You think I'm going to see something I don't like and turn away from you.
[ in the bond as in the material. her fingers probe the sore spaces, the scars that never healed properly and that tell stories of a harder time. she brings her hand around to trace up the fishook that runs down from his collarbone where she had filleted him in the snow. marks of failure, but also of their history together. ]
I won't.
[ if he needs that reassurance, she will give it. that and so much more. she lifts her chin to catch him in a kiss when he presses their foreheads together. it's slower, gentler. the urgency is gone. in its place, a steadiness that she recognizes he needs.
it's probably the wrong time to put her hands back on his dick so she's gonna
not do that
yet.
she does, however, break the kiss to murmur against his lips. ]
[Its a rather fortunate thing she had chosen not to grab him again before deivering that line, or she might have lost all that build up for nothing. Across the bond, his swallow times the exact moment he feels something in his chest flutter — a bone deep desire that magnetizes him back into action almost as swiftly as he had first been pulled out of it. His grip on her thighs tightens possessivelt, and he leans in to smother her in another deep kiss.
He’d been a fool to doubt her, and a different sort of shame creeps up his spine. She deserved better than his self-pity for the investment she’d provided him with, and he is more eager than ever to give it back. The bond in itself was a blessing. Sometimes it seemed she knew him better than he knew himself. It would have been a frightening power over him, had he not so clearly benefited from it.
Eventually, he releases her thighs to let his hands travel up her torso again, returning to their duty. His teeth find her lip and sink into it, pulling with a hungry groan that echoes out of his chest.]
[ the mood shifts. their awareness of one another serves to amplify what might otherwise be a subtle thing, but with the bond between them, it's like the light filtering in through that enormous window behind the throne changes color. it's a warmer cast. softer. but brighter, too.
her pulse jumps in time with his, and rey melts into the kiss. it's everything she wants to hear. a promise of something that will outlive whatever comes at them for this endeavor. if the new empire turns out to be a mistake, this at least is not. wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she pulls him closer, leaving only enough room for his hands to grope blindly at her breasts between them. even now his lips and tongue taste like her, sharp and cloying.
he is not discardable to her. to the new empire, maybe. but never to her. once she had felt foolish for it, but she's never wanted anything like she wants him.
with steady purpose rey slackens her embrace and lets her fingertips trace light, teasing patterns down the back of his ribs. they take their time and follow the curve of muscle around his hip. her tongue traces the edge of his teeth and she closes her fist around him. she squeezes her grip as she drags her hand along his length. ]
[Her careful attention to him draws out a pleasured growl into her mouth, hips pressing forward to seek further direct contact from the fist she’s made. A fever starts to build deep in his belly as he hardens in her hand. He shifts his grip, pulling away from her mouth to lean in, in order to sink his teeth back over the point of her pulse, as she had done to him. He’s already left a mark there — but what was one more added to the map across her collar bone?
He can’t angle himself well enough to go any further south with his mouth, so he instead settles on switching his grip to take a nipple between two fingers. He is gentle at first, pressing and rubbing to keep her interested, but eventually his attention turns sharper — a flick, to a gentle pinch.
When the sensation rubberbands back across the bond, his hips jerk in her hand, and he is forced to momentarily give up his attention to her neck in favor of staving off the sudden peak that nearly pulls him out with the tide that has begun to pool. He exhales heavily, slowing all of his action to deny himself the peak that suddenly feels so close. It was too soon — the emotion, the stimulation, it all came far too quickly for him to anticipate. He yearns for it to last, and lets his forehead drop onto her shoulder to communicate what words fail to offer.
Fortunately, they are beyond that sort of communication. He very nearly begs for her to slow down, at war between his desires, static vibrating between the bond.]
[ the tip of rey's head exposes her neck and welcomes him in, and she's pleased to find that his attention has a sharp edge to it now. the pressure of his teeth, the sting as he tweaks her nipple, these things draw an airy, satisfied noise out of the back of her throat. he twitches against her, convulses, and the bond helps her interpret it for the flinch it is.
she turns her face to kiss the messy knot of dark hair leaned into her shoulder. it belies her smile. she slows, her hand opening but still brushing along him. a gentle reminder, an effort to bring him back down to a simmer. ]
Shhh. Not yet. [ this is a power she's much more interested in than the power she holds over the galaxy: the power to keep him ever teetering on the brink of some undoing. ] Not like this. [ she nips at his earlobe. it's gentle and playful and most importantly distracting from the soft, rhythmic work of her hand. ] I still want you inside of me. Preferably for more than a few seconds.
[It takes him a few seconds to come back down, forehead remaining heavy on his shoulder while she gently pulls him along, but never over. The sharp pinch at his earlobe grabs his attention, and pulls him back to the present. Eventually, he exhales hard and lifts his head again, brushing his cheek along her’s in the process. His nod is short, but eager. Preferably more than a few seconds stabs at his soft underbelly, but just enough to encourage him to try a little harder.
But stars it hurt to come so close. He feels himself, heavy in her hand, and swallows down another needy sound.
One hand slips down between them again, from her chest down between her legs slipping one finger between her folds. His eyes stay locked with her’s when he pulls his head back — bond leads him inward easily, in an effort to make certain that she’s on his same wavelength. He’s not certain he’d be able to resist his orgasm a second time.]
[ she turns her head into the warm feeling of him brushing past her, savoring it. it seems an absurd thing to still savor each point of contact with him, after all this time, yet it brings with it an unparalleled warmth.
in his eyes lies a deep and growing darkness, that of unfulfilled desire barely staved off. she drinks it down, not breaking his gaze even when the steady movement of his hand has her hips twitching forward — to steal more or to flinch away as he brushes her clit, it's not immediately clear. she's not even fully sure which she wants more.
regardless, there's no masking from him the case of oversensitivity she's also juggling. it was only the distance of his pleasure across the bond and the slow, steady ambience of his exploration of her breasts that gave her the chance to ease down and hold onto control.
her knees spread to welcome him in. the desire for something more substantial settles in the bond between them. only then does she release him, steadying herself instead on his shoulders. the arch of her body draws his finger in, and she bites down on her lip. it's harder, now, to keep eye contact and not to surrender to the feeling.
she doesn't leave that desire without reaction. she reaches down to push at his wrist, nudging him back. ]
Lie down.
[ she shifts aside to make room for him on the desk as she says it. she should let him have control, maybe, but he hasn't demonstrated a solid track record of being able to hold himself back, and thus she takes up the mantle. ]
[Every time she attempts to flinch away, he finds himself chasing her — not just for her pleasure, but also his own. Its a somewhat foreign sensation on his side of the bond, but its one he finds himself craving more and more of every time he strokes it. He knows better than to give her too much, or they would simply be right back where they started, and the dissatisfaction he can feel rippling through her when he refuses to give her more than his finger to satisfy that itch he feels building.
But then she pushes his wrist down, gives him that command, and he can’t help but feel some of the wind leave his sails. It doesn’t stop him from complying, of course, but there is a moment where his finger retreats in silence and curls into a small fist of frustration. If nothing else, he has learned his lesson about thinking he knows better than her about — anything, but especially anything to do with this. She hasn’t done him wrong yet.
Kylo Ren untangles himself from the splay of her legs, testing the load bearing capacity with two hands before adding the rest of his body. Somewhere in between, there is a grint of discomfort as he tries to shift around his arrousal. They probably should have made this move a little sooner. His body doesn’t quite fit on the vertical axis, so he shifts himself to find a horizontal plane once Rey makes room for him.]
[ her breath catches on his disappointment. there's no good down the road of pointing it out and trying too obviously to course correct — they're both already shifting. but she feels … foolish. impatient, maybe. she recognizes something in herself not unlike she had seen in ben, an overwrought desire to be followed and recognized for the authority that he had. but that had never been what they'd found so satisfying in one another. it's only these efforts to perform something, to be the empress, that make her project it onto him now.
there's a frustration in the way her hands ball to mirror his as he settles back. despite her misgivings about the way she'd executed it, she wastes no time taking advantage when he stretches out the length of the desk. he's too tall for it, of course. more evidence of the way she — they? — might as well try to fit a round peg in a square hole. she climbs on top of him anyway, hovering on all fours over him.
she rethinks her haste and takes her time gazing down at him. her hand reaches for his face instead of his cock, her thumb brushing his cheekbone. he's flushed, forehead sticky with the sheen of dried sweat. she lets her hand trace down over his jawline.
there's this sense that she should say something, but … she never says the right thing. so instead she just hopes that he can feel it. ]
[Her eyes catch his when she finally climbs over him, and he doesn’t realize he’s bracing himself until her hand falls soft on the high point of his cheek. He feels her intent across the bond, and the intensity of his stare softens some. Even now, together like this at the height of their power, they still couldn’t seem to get this part right — the part where they stopped assuming things of one another. Maybe the bond had made it worse in giving them justification for it.
Her hand is calloused in certain spots, but it feels like coming home when it settles into his jaw, a warmth that eases every tensed muscle that had managed to build up in that short and tense moment. He leans into it, reaching up for that hand like a security blanket and letting his fingers lace with her’s. Similarly, he stays quiet. He had never been a man of many words to start with.
Maybe they’d never get it right. He can’t say he cares all that much. There were far worst things shared between them over the past years. The day he stopped believing in this thing between them would surely be his end. And with that on his mind, he turns his head just enough to press his lips to the heel of her palm — reverant, submissive, and understanding.]
[ his resignation to the inevitability of missteps, and his belief in it despite these, makes her chest tighten. maybe it was too much to expect two people so broken by the world to get it right the first time. maybe it was time she accepted that there would be a journey, rather than assuming they'd already reached some pinnacle.
rey shifts her hand, drags her thumb along the curve of his lower lip, inspecting him. he trusts her. that alone should be enough.
her knees bend and bring her down to sit on his hips, the curve of her pubic bone pressed against the length of his erection. leaning down, she brings her mouth to his. this time, the kiss is all tongue and lips. no teeth.
she rolls her hips forward, tilting them up. it's too gentle and stirring to be called rutting, but there's an undeniable search for friction there. she aches for more of what his finger had offered her. still, despite the interruption, a tremor crackles like a current through her thighs and she jerks slightly as his skin drags against her just so. rey's hand comes to rest against the side of his neck. ]
[Rey’s thumb brushes his lip, and something in him warms at the gesture of approval. There rests a deep hunger in his eyes that only expands the more she delays them. But then, she settles again, and leans in to kiss him.
He lifts his arms from the table to cradle her torso, an enveloping and secure gesture that no doubt keeps her too close to be comfortable, moving her hips like that. But he craves that specific contact when and moves in for that deep kiss. He smothers around her shoulders for a brief moment before relaxing his grip and allowing his hands to explore her back. His touch is light, much like the way she moves against him.
Its a challenge to keep his hips still as she uses him to stimulate herself. He can feel that teasing bit of static running down her spine as if it were his own pleasure, and he mumbles something incorrigible into her mouth. Yes. More.
The light pressure is quickly joined bu the bite of his nails, and the drag of her hips is joined by the occasional helpless twitch of his hips. Like Rey, he lacks true patience to drag this out, even if the desire for it is there.]
[ the wariness of her own overeager mistakes keeps her restrained and cautious until he digs his nails into her back. she hisses an approval into his mouth, her teeth scraping against his lips as she bites down. heat sparks at the too-sharp contact, spreads through her to add to her fever. it's different than before, appetite mingled now with the pleasant, fuzzy sort of numbness that comes after a satisfying ending.
at his neck, her hand tightens and squeezes, her thumb pressing down against his windpipe. then she settles her weight back on her knees and reaches down to grab him. her grip is strangling there too, reminding him to hold it together as she tries to angle him into her.
for a moment, her hips barely swivel, letting just the tip slip against her cunt. bobbing near the entrance, always unsatisfying. but she can feel the tension squeeze in her as well, that anticipation, that need. she's aching for him. her teasing can't last, not when every last inch of her is screaming out for him. ]
Oh, Ben.
[ his name comes out in a whine. she doesn't mean for it too, and certainly not that name, but it's what comes out. she presses her forehead against his, gasping for breath. ]
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I didn't think to, believe it or not.
[ a not insignificant part of her reasons that, well, they've already soiled the thing, why worry about clean-up now. but then she has an idea.
rey reaches to take his hands in hers. there's a steadiness about the way she takes her time, though her intentions come clear through their link well before. at first, just a purpose, an intimacy. and perhaps a hint of playfulness. she brings his hands closer. they smell like salt and tang and something she can't place.
she meets his gaze as she sucks at his knuckle, and the same quality of that scent floods her mouth. the noise she makes to savor her own taste on his hands is, perhaps, exaggerated, a fact which would be clear in the space between them. she's tasted herself before. a mere curiosity, then, now something for her to leverage against him to entertain a reaction. ]
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[oh. So much for banter.
The hand she reaches for goes a little limp in her grip, but the other becomes a fistful of his own fluids as he clenches it reflexively in response. To an onlooker, he hardly as any reaction at all, but Rey has the benefit of being right in front of him. The concentrated furrow of his brow, the way his lips purse and then contract as he resists the urge to bite them, and the way he swallows down the flush that abruptly rises up the back of his neck.
Aside from all of that, she has the bond at her disposal, twice amplified thanks to their lack of distance between one another. She demands all of his attention with one simple gesture, and when he feels the pull of her on his own tongue, the finger attached to her knuckle of choice spasms slightly.
That works.]
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his next finger brushes against her cheek, leaving a sticky trail there, but she doesn't look bothered.
then she pulls back, saliva briefly bridging the gap between her lips and his fingertip. she pushes his hand back towards him. she's shown him what she wants, and now she expects he'll execute obediently.
her attention, meanwhile, turns to coaxing his other fist open. there's a bit of fire in his reply. were she less invested in scratching this particular itch, she might turn him away to teach him a lesson about biting back at her. instead, she has to take another route to the same destination. ]
I gave you permission to touch yourself. [ she drags her finger through the salt spilled into his palm. ] Not to finish. [ she leans in and her teeth scrape the heel of his palm. bad dog. ] I wasn't done yet.
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That is, until she scolds him for finishing without permission. It was not as if he would have been able to resist, between the bond and the more direct attention he’d been allowed to give himself. Thankfully, with his fingers pressed inside of his cheek, it keeps him from arguing, but there is no mistaking the indignation on the other side of their link.
She drags her teeth across his palm, and his fingers (forcefully opened) curl slightly in anticipation. But he also knows that if he doesn’t say something to acknowledge her displeasure, than she might simply walk off and leave him to deal with this himself. He forces himself to swallow, and pulls his hand out of his mouth to reply unbidden.]
Sorry.
[He has never particularly mastered the art of the apology, but a part of him is genuinely rankled by her disappointment even if he would not admit it verbally.]
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You can still make it up to me.
[ said as though such an opportunity were generous, forgiving, and not entirely rooted in her own desires. his hand is damp with her saliva now, but she still turns it to cup the side of her cheek as she gazes up at him.
rey gets up onto her knees on the desk so she can lean in and tell him, ] I'll help you. [ and at some point, disguised by all that movement, she releases his hand to allow hers to drift down his chest to where the end of his tunic half-covers his flaccid penis. ]
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But before she can do anything else, he takes one more stab of authority and leans in to steal a kiss from her, guiding her head with the hand she’d left on her cheek. He hadn’t quite managed to clean everything off yet, leaving his jawline a bit tacky to the touch. Its a non-verbal agreement comply with her demand to correct his previous error, nudging his hips into her hand.
He’d probably live to regret his enthusiasm later. His knees were already slightly weak with exhaustion from their most recent tryst.]
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when he leans in, a smile spreads over her lips. he can feel it two-fold. she works him with both of her hands, a steady pace that doesn't seem overly concerned with if she'll need to take her time before he's ready to go again.
rey bites down on his lip, tugging at it; it serves the dual function of deepening the kiss and jolting him somewhat. she wants more of what she had felt start to come alive in him. her lips leave his, journey down to his jaw where her teeth scrape again, down to the pulse point in his neck. she had realized some time ago that this body, his body, was hers, just like the rest of him. ]
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She is obscured from his vision when she leans in to focus on his pulse, but her intent is impossible to miss. His free hand, now no longer occupied bu his mouth, moves to nudge one of her arms aside so that he can reach one of her uncovered breasts. He takes her in his hand and starts a slow, tantilizing and circular motion, all while swallowing down the sound it threatens to pull from him.
Her choice of pace might have irritated him not long ago, but there is something to be said for the care she takes with him, and he resists the urge to search for more — at least, for the moment. He is slow to harden again, but her attention encourages him to shift how he stands to allow her more immedoate access, without the angle of the desk getting in their way. Better to allow her ownership of the situation.]
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insubstantial as smoke at first, an ambient satisfaction slowly pools in her belly, stoked by his mounting response to her. it brings with it a sort of stifling heat across her skin. she nods her head into his neck, a quiet approving noise coming out against his skin. his sweat sticks on her tongue, a welcome reminder of where it came from.
his tunic stops her from going any further. that thing is still on. and on her, the dress bunched around her ribs and abdomen like some absurd belt. good for haste, not for the long game. she releases him only to pull the hem of his tunic up. he'll have to stop groping her to help her fully rid him of it, so she pulls her hands back then. ]
Take that off.
[ and instead of struggling with his further, she reaches down to pull her dress over her head. the material is light, but it's still heavier than anything else she'd worn before agreeing to this insanity. it weighed her down. she'd be glad to be rid of it and bare as the day she was born in this grand hall. ]
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Kylo Ren is quick to move in again once he spots that she’s managed to lay herself bare, in an attempt to avoid giving her a good look at the various rips, burns, and tears in his skin. She was responsible for most of them, but they were from a different time, and they had already deliberated on them enough. But he also knows her compassion — it was what had made this whole thing possible. He doesn’t want old wounds interfering with the momentum they’ve already built.
Of course, the bond means he cannot hide his intent when he moves back in for her, reaching for her ribs and rubbing large thumbs upward to tease at her nipples.]
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that gaze probes into his vulnerable places, and her fingers lift to chase them, following pocked scars like a starmap. let her fingertips press upon the injuries that she did not leave him with. her palm settles over his ribs where chewie's bowcaster humbled him.
her lips meanwhile find the small circular patch of scar tissue, pink and irritated, which rests near his shoulder. she had given him that. a jab. her tongue laps out to soothe a forgotten injury. then she reaches around him with her other hand, her fingertips caressing the path of her own lightsaber, able to track it in the angry burn that survives their animosity there.
they are gentle touches. assuring. enveloping. and yet glancing and short lived. ]
If you're touching me, I want it to be because you want me. [ she would never presume to ascribe love to this thing. she's still wary to suggest that kylo could even feel something like that, still. but want? need? hunger? yes. all this, and more. ] Not so you can hide. If you can't do that, you can keep your hands to yourself.
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There is no verbal apology from him this time. Instead, he closes his eyes and forces his shoulders to relax, leaning heavily on the bond in an attempt to divorce himself of his shame. It doesn’t quite work, but it allows him to remind himself that — well, if there was going to be a dealbreaker, the scars she gifted him for his hubris would likely not be it. If this was another concession that had to be made, was it really so bad?
He swallows it.]
I do.
[It comes out with conviction as he opens his eyes again, shoulders flexing a bit more confidently as he encroaches her space more fully to rest his forehead against her own. His hands come up again to rub reverently along her thighs.]
I want you.
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[ in the bond as in the material. her fingers probe the sore spaces, the scars that never healed properly and that tell stories of a harder time. she brings her hand around to trace up the fishook that runs down from his collarbone where she had filleted him in the snow. marks of failure, but also of their history together. ]
I won't.
[ if he needs that reassurance, she will give it. that and so much more. she lifts her chin to catch him in a kiss when he presses their foreheads together. it's slower, gentler. the urgency is gone. in its place, a steadiness that she recognizes he needs.
it's probably the wrong time to put her hands back on his dick so she's gonna
not do that
yet.
she does, however, break the kiss to murmur against his lips. ]
You are the one thing I can't stand to lose.
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[Its a rather fortunate thing she had chosen not to grab him again before deivering that line, or she might have lost all that build up for nothing. Across the bond, his swallow times the exact moment he feels something in his chest flutter — a bone deep desire that magnetizes him back into action almost as swiftly as he had first been pulled out of it. His grip on her thighs tightens possessivelt, and he leans in to smother her in another deep kiss.
He’d been a fool to doubt her, and a different sort of shame creeps up his spine. She deserved better than his self-pity for the investment she’d provided him with, and he is more eager than ever to give it back. The bond in itself was a blessing. Sometimes it seemed she knew him better than he knew himself. It would have been a frightening power over him, had he not so clearly benefited from it.
Eventually, he releases her thighs to let his hands travel up her torso again, returning to their duty. His teeth find her lip and sink into it, pulling with a hungry groan that echoes out of his chest.]
You won’t lose me.
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her pulse jumps in time with his, and rey melts into the kiss. it's everything she wants to hear. a promise of something that will outlive whatever comes at them for this endeavor. if the new empire turns out to be a mistake, this at least is not. wrapping her arms around his shoulders, she pulls him closer, leaving only enough room for his hands to grope blindly at her breasts between them. even now his lips and tongue taste like her, sharp and cloying.
he is not discardable to her. to the new empire, maybe. but never to her. once she had felt foolish for it, but she's never wanted anything like she wants him.
with steady purpose rey slackens her embrace and lets her fingertips trace light, teasing patterns down the back of his ribs. they take their time and follow the curve of muscle around his hip. her tongue traces the edge of his teeth and she closes her fist around him. she squeezes her grip as she drags her hand along his length. ]
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He can’t angle himself well enough to go any further south with his mouth, so he instead settles on switching his grip to take a nipple between two fingers. He is gentle at first, pressing and rubbing to keep her interested, but eventually his attention turns sharper — a flick, to a gentle pinch.
When the sensation rubberbands back across the bond, his hips jerk in her hand, and he is forced to momentarily give up his attention to her neck in favor of staving off the sudden peak that nearly pulls him out with the tide that has begun to pool. He exhales heavily, slowing all of his action to deny himself the peak that suddenly feels so close. It was too soon — the emotion, the stimulation, it all came far too quickly for him to anticipate. He yearns for it to last, and lets his forehead drop onto her shoulder to communicate what words fail to offer.
Fortunately, they are beyond that sort of communication. He very nearly begs for her to slow down, at war between his desires, static vibrating between the bond.]
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she turns her face to kiss the messy knot of dark hair leaned into her shoulder. it belies her smile. she slows, her hand opening but still brushing along him. a gentle reminder, an effort to bring him back down to a simmer. ]
Shhh. Not yet. [ this is a power she's much more interested in than the power she holds over the galaxy: the power to keep him ever teetering on the brink of some undoing. ] Not like this. [ she nips at his earlobe. it's gentle and playful and most importantly distracting from the soft, rhythmic work of her hand. ] I still want you inside of me. Preferably for more than a few seconds.
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But stars it hurt to come so close. He feels himself, heavy in her hand, and swallows down another needy sound.
One hand slips down between them again, from her chest down between her legs slipping one finger between her folds. His eyes stay locked with her’s when he pulls his head back — bond leads him inward easily, in an effort to make certain that she’s on his same wavelength. He’s not certain he’d be able to resist his orgasm a second time.]
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in his eyes lies a deep and growing darkness, that of unfulfilled desire barely staved off. she drinks it down, not breaking his gaze even when the steady movement of his hand has her hips twitching forward — to steal more or to flinch away as he brushes her clit, it's not immediately clear. she's not even fully sure which she wants more.
regardless, there's no masking from him the case of oversensitivity she's also juggling. it was only the distance of his pleasure across the bond and the slow, steady ambience of his exploration of her breasts that gave her the chance to ease down and hold onto control.
her knees spread to welcome him in. the desire for something more substantial settles in the bond between them. only then does she release him, steadying herself instead on his shoulders. the arch of her body draws his finger in, and she bites down on her lip. it's harder, now, to keep eye contact and not to surrender to the feeling.
she doesn't leave that desire without reaction. she reaches down to push at his wrist, nudging him back. ]
Lie down.
[ she shifts aside to make room for him on the desk as she says it. she should let him have control, maybe, but he hasn't demonstrated a solid track record of being able to hold himself back, and thus she takes up the mantle. ]
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But then she pushes his wrist down, gives him that command, and he can’t help but feel some of the wind leave his sails. It doesn’t stop him from complying, of course, but there is a moment where his finger retreats in silence and curls into a small fist of frustration. If nothing else, he has learned his lesson about thinking he knows better than her about — anything, but especially anything to do with this. She hasn’t done him wrong yet.
Kylo Ren untangles himself from the splay of her legs, testing the load bearing capacity with two hands before adding the rest of his body. Somewhere in between, there is a grint of discomfort as he tries to shift around his arrousal. They probably should have made this move a little sooner. His body doesn’t quite fit on the vertical axis, so he shifts himself to find a horizontal plane once Rey makes room for him.]
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there's a frustration in the way her hands ball to mirror his as he settles back. despite her misgivings about the way she'd executed it, she wastes no time taking advantage when he stretches out the length of the desk. he's too tall for it, of course. more evidence of the way she — they? — might as well try to fit a round peg in a square hole. she climbs on top of him anyway, hovering on all fours over him.
she rethinks her haste and takes her time gazing down at him. her hand reaches for his face instead of his cock, her thumb brushing his cheekbone. he's flushed, forehead sticky with the sheen of dried sweat. she lets her hand trace down over his jawline.
there's this sense that she should say something, but … she never says the right thing. so instead she just hopes that he can feel it. ]
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Her hand is calloused in certain spots, but it feels like coming home when it settles into his jaw, a warmth that eases every tensed muscle that had managed to build up in that short and tense moment. He leans into it, reaching up for that hand like a security blanket and letting his fingers lace with her’s. Similarly, he stays quiet. He had never been a man of many words to start with.
Maybe they’d never get it right. He can’t say he cares all that much. There were far worst things shared between them over the past years. The day he stopped believing in this thing between them would surely be his end. And with that on his mind, he turns his head just enough to press his lips to the heel of her palm — reverant, submissive, and understanding.]
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rey shifts her hand, drags her thumb along the curve of his lower lip, inspecting him. he trusts her. that alone should be enough.
her knees bend and bring her down to sit on his hips, the curve of her pubic bone pressed against the length of his erection. leaning down, she brings her mouth to his. this time, the kiss is all tongue and lips. no teeth.
she rolls her hips forward, tilting them up. it's too gentle and stirring to be called rutting, but there's an undeniable search for friction there. she aches for more of what his finger had offered her. still, despite the interruption, a tremor crackles like a current through her thighs and she jerks slightly as his skin drags against her just so. rey's hand comes to rest against the side of his neck. ]
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He lifts his arms from the table to cradle her torso, an enveloping and secure gesture that no doubt keeps her too close to be comfortable, moving her hips like that. But he craves that specific contact when and moves in for that deep kiss. He smothers around her shoulders for a brief moment before relaxing his grip and allowing his hands to explore her back. His touch is light, much like the way she moves against him.
Its a challenge to keep his hips still as she uses him to stimulate herself. He can feel that teasing bit of static running down her spine as if it were his own pleasure, and he mumbles something incorrigible into her mouth. Yes. More.
The light pressure is quickly joined bu the bite of his nails, and the drag of her hips is joined by the occasional helpless twitch of his hips. Like Rey, he lacks true patience to drag this out, even if the desire for it is there.]
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at his neck, her hand tightens and squeezes, her thumb pressing down against his windpipe. then she settles her weight back on her knees and reaches down to grab him. her grip is strangling there too, reminding him to hold it together as she tries to angle him into her.
for a moment, her hips barely swivel, letting just the tip slip against her cunt. bobbing near the entrance, always unsatisfying. but she can feel the tension squeeze in her as well, that anticipation, that need. she's aching for him. her teasing can't last, not when every last inch of her is screaming out for him. ]
Oh, Ben.
[ his name comes out in a whine. she doesn't mean for it too, and certainly not that name, but it's what comes out. she presses her forehead against his, gasping for breath. ]
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