Tumblr is a strange place, a dangerous place. One minute Reyâs dashboard can be mostly animal gifs or reminders for people to vote before suddenly switching over to fairly pornographic material.
Reyâs account isnât focused on anything particular. She spends most of her time scrolling through her endless feed mindlessly while Netflix drones on in the background.
Thatâs when a series of beautiful and haunting photographs slide across her dash. It is a set of black and white photos featuring women bound in elegant, yet complex knots. The thin cords are incredibly thin looking, imagining how they might bite into her skin made Rey shiver with delight and fear.
Each photo was beautifully framed and lit, making it clear that the images were artistic, rather than something simply meant for pornography. It was obvious to Rey that the photographer wanted to walk right up to the line between art and obscenity to see exactly what separated the two.
She looked at each photo for entirely too long for someone who had previously claimed to be not interested in BDSM. Why these photos? None of the other images and videos that crossed her dash ever got Reyâs pulse racing.
The last image made Rey suck in a breath, a high squeaky sound that made her start, sitting all alone in her couch. Whoever the photographer was, it was clear they wanted to capture an image of power being restrained, but just barely. Using white rope, a very pale, muscular man was bound and left to dangle against a black backdrop.
Without thinking, Rey clicked the tag crediting the model, Kylo Ren. It was like flinging herself down a dangerous, and aesthetically pleasing rabbit hole. Where would Rey be when she found the bottom?
Guess who just wrote a second chapter to something without having to be threatened?? Thatâs right. I DID. [insert âyou know what that is??? GROWTH.â gif here] ignore the terrible aesthetic letâs just be glad I managed to write while drunk.
Tags: cunnilingus, oral sex, period sex, bloody like the battle of crait, blood
Summary: Reyâs seen Ben Solo bloodied before, but not quite like this.
Notes: as per usual, this was inspired by some chat in the discord and it spiraled into this. Many thanks to @haraldskaer for the âBattle of Craitâ line, thatâs all her <3
[read on ao3]
--
Reyâs seen Ben Solo bloodied before.
The first time was on a broken planet, shattered by machinery and the power of a sun it never should have contained. She gave him those wounds, battered and bloodied his face on the snow and he looked at her like some would stare at a god.
The second time was many months later, when the war wasnât quite over and they managed to fight side by side again. Their blades flashed in time as they fought their way across and it was only when the tide turned did Rey have the chance to look at him. That pointed determination was in his eyes, hardened with the resolution to see this mission through. But even with the lightsabers, the fight wasnât clean.
He stood over the corpses, blood smeared across his chin and his shoulders stiff and shaking until she came to him and took his hand and led him away.
Sheâs seen Ben bloody before.
This was different. This wasnât battle. Or perhaps it was, but of a different kind. Two contestants walked in and two winners walked out, their wills coming together for the pleasure of the other. Rey wasnât exactly sure what word to put to what she had with Ben Solo. Surely it was love, but at the same time it was more. It was more than trust, more than intimacy. It was a knowing that formed in battle and tempered in peace and boiled down to the truth that Rey couldnât deny: that Ben was there and where sheâd go, heâd follow. They were a matched pair and they fell together. But this wasnât a place theyâd gone before.
âIâmâŠâ she starts to say as he kneels between her legs.
âWhat?â
She reaches up to him and pulls his face back down to her. This is where she wants him, here, where heâs warm against her chest and his lips against hers and his body heat is better than any blanket they could find.
âIâm bleeding,â she says when he pulls back and she looks in his eyes. âItâs like the battle of Crait down there.â
Benâs massive frame shakes as his head falls and the smirk on his lips barely holds back soft laughter. It was a strange thing, to see him laugh. To see the lighter parts of life reach those parts of him that sheltered in darkness for so long. His hair falls over his eyes and he stares at her from beneath it all, easy delight in those soft brown eyes.
âThat wasnât what I expecting you to say. And thatâs not a problem. Not to me.â
âAre you sure?â Rey props herself up to meet his lips, peppering his face with kisses. He tastes sweet somehow; or maybe he smelled sweet and tasted like him, but it didnât matter, because he was here and she was kissing him.
He grabs her jaw and holds her gently as he gives a lingering kiss that pulls from a place deep inside. His tongue runs along her teeth as his own nibbles on her lips before going deeper and deeper and Rey feels her arms weaken and willingly fall as he follows.
âYes,â he says and runs his hands through her hair. Rey closes her eyes and falls into his touch. There is an intimacy in that word that stirs her blood, sends a thrill down her spine and fear in her gut.
Blood is not new between them, but her blood? To see him marked in that way, to anoint himself with her? A part of her thrills and the other part wavers in hesitancy. But heâs Ben. And Rey trusts him.
Rey closes her eyes momentarily before eyeing him. âJust stop if it gets too much.â
âIt wonât, but I will.â He moves back to between her legs and kneels. His hands run down between her breasts, her breath catching as a stray thumb grazes her nipple before continuing their journey further. He doesnât stop until just above the crest of her thighs and he follows the curve of her in between her legs to where sheâs already wet -- sheâs been wet forever, since he gathered her in his arms and whispered things in her ear that brought them back here to her cabin. âI promise.â
A finger slides between her folds and Rey curls in on herself as he rubs softly against her clit. A second finger presses lower, sliding into her and filling her just so, but not quite full enough and she whimpers softly.
He pulls a gasp from her throat when he withdraws his fingers and Rey glares at him, breathless. Ben smirks as she positions herself closer to his thighs, trying to regain that pressure in her core that he denied her. Instead, she watches as he takes his fingers to his lips and tastes them, his lips turning a shade of red obscene.
A heated flush runs through her as Ben smiles and then lays down in between her legs. His hands tighten under her ass, fingers dig in and hold her close and Reyâs world stills as he raises her to his lips.
The first swipe his tongue is cold against her warm skin. Its sloppy, a general sensation that only becomes more focused as Ben falls into his pattern. A soft whine escapes her lips, almost unbidden, flaring the heat in her belly and then her breath hitches as he finds it.
She moans. He keeps the pressure, the steady swirl of his fingers against her clit as his tongue journeys further, taking and tasting between her folds. The calluses on his hands catch on her skin as he grabs her hips and holds her there.
Her fingers trail in his hair and then clench and hold him in place, urging him on for more, more â âMoreâŠâ
She feels, rather than sees his smile, the huff of his breath on wet skin and he engages again, another finger joining on her clit as he swirls and licks and sucks and returns his attention to the small nub.
Her fingers donât let go; she never lets go, not of him. Thereâs something deeper that has their claws deep in the two of them. Heat flushes on her chest as Ben nudges the bond, heightening her own waves of pleasure with the effect of his own. Another whimpered moan comes from her lips as one had leaves him for the sheets -- holding them tight as he laps her dry. His tongue delves deeper, filling her slightly, but not enough, not as much as his cock, but its still here and for her and her voice deepens and falls.
âOh⊠yesâŠâ She arches her back, pressing herself further into him. âYes, Ben, yes.â
And it's there that Rey finds herself falling and not caring -- falling into his arms and mouth and tongue and hands and falling from the care of whatever sheâs bleeding. He promised her heâd stop if he cared and she half expected him to; for whatever his wants were to not match up to his expectations, that sheâd be found wanting again.
Dirty scavenger, dirty, tossed away, not wanted--
But here in their bed, with Ben, she could let it all fall away. She was dirty, she was a mess, and it didnât matter. They were both fractured, found by the other and brought themselves together enough before taking the otherâs hand. And now they scavenged each other to rebuild what was left. Â And the window into Benâs mind was enough -- simple white, bliss, delight, beautiful, perfect, mine.
âYou taste so nice.â He grunts as he pulls her back and her body starts to shake as she comes close, her world, her focus drawn to the waves of heat on her skin and the way Benâs hair feels beneath her hand. âYou taste so good.â
His words skittered over her skin, his lips twisting at her clit as he sucked and Rey could do nothing but beg for more. âPlease, please, yes. Ben, yesâŠâ
Her sun was his tongue at her core and the moon was his hands as they work to pull her own, the bond opening and closing any gap between them -- it was her skin and his skin and her moans and noises against his tongue, his heartbeat in her ear and that rising wave that grows and grows until it's cresting over her -- them both -- His tongue moves faster and faster, licking against her, humming into her as the wave holds and pauses and Rey feels like sheâll explode from her skin if she doesnât come. And then it's there and sheâs there and he doesnât stop, instead keeping it up so it's everything and nothing and she comes with a cry.
She floats for a while while the wave comes down and after a moment, she opens her thighs and lets Ben go. She curls in on herself and then heâs there, kissing his way up her thighs, leaving red smeared between them and the various places where his fingers touch. And then there were his lips, lighter than lipstick, but reddened by her. They glistened with her and him and the red streaks across his cheeks. In the dim light, theyâre battle scars, blood stripes earned and given between them. Rey reaches up to a spot on his cheek.
Her thumb smeared it a bit more and Rey doesnât miss how he leans into her hand and his eyes spart and his lips part as she whispers, âMine.â
Sheâs seen him bloodied like this before. But nothing compares to this. Nothing ever would, save that worship in his eyes again. Rey reaches out and Ben stills, his eyes closing just enough.Â
tags: praise kink, soft sub kylo, light d/s undertones, explicit sexual content, angst, because i am an angst monger i canât help myself
[read on ao3]
âHave you been good?â
Ben leans back as Rey trails her hands down his arms before interlacing her fingers with his. Her lips press against his, so soft and sweet as her teeth nip her name against him; her tongue tasting of him as he stills beneath her and his mind wonders.
Good is subjective.
Ben knew he was good, once upon a time. He tried to be good for his parents, for his uncle, for the people that crossed his life that he might have once called friends. There were moments, single places where he was good in their eyes, because whatever darkness called to him and poisoned those depths of his heart.
He was good in Snokeâs eyes from time to time. Ben sought that praise, craved it, accosted for those moments where he would be blessed with the phrase worthy apprentice . It was a balm to a soul that was broken from being good; where goodness was left so far back it was no longer attainable.
Goodness was a thing Ben left behind and Kylo shunned. Goodness was a thing he wasnât worthy to dream of. Goodness was to die. And Ben didnât want to die.
But then came Rey. And she looked into his soul and saw something close enough to not darkness to resemble something good. And she went after it and went after him. And eventually she caught him and with her hands around his, she refused to let him go, even though the word good meant nothing to him. Until now.
Now, laying on her bed with nothing but a sheet around them, Ben let himself go as Rey dangled the word in front of him.
âHave you been good, Ben?â
He looks at her with glazed eyes, roving across her. She sits next to him, bare of anything, the sheet pooling in her lap. She takes a breast in her hand and fondles it as she leans forward, bracing herself above him.
His throat was dry as he tries to respond. âMaybe?â
âHmm?â she asks, holding herself just out of reach. Her hands trail back up to his and lock them in place above his head.
âYes,â he says and she smiles and takes his lips in hers.
She tastes of summer and sun and sweet fresh rain -- of things Ben denied himself of for so long; of everything he wanted and nothing. Her lips are soft and swift, trading gentle suckling with sharp nips and a soothing tongue. She pulls away and he leans forward to find her breast and takes it in, suckling softly at first and then more urgently at her urging. His teeth graze along her nipple and her gasp is pure delight. He sucks against it, calming it with his tongue before taking it gently in his teeth again.
âYes,â she murmurs at first and then moans, leaning into his mouth, pressing more of herself to him. Her hands leave his and reach down to between her thighs, and she gasps at her own touch, leaning into him and his hands.
âYou feel so good for me,â she says as she straddles him, her hips twisting over his in an erratic rhythm. He swells and hardens even more beneath her as she rubs herself against his length. Her breath hitches and her pace quickens as her slick wets between them and the heat builds up again.
And then she stops. Her eyes meet his and that smile, that wicked, perfect smile of hers grows and her hair falls into her face as she leans off of him and takes his lips again.
âPlease,â he says softly, so softly at first. A prayer, a plea, anything for her, anything she wants. âPleaseâŠâ
âWhat do you want?â she asks teasingly, her lips nibbling along his jaw.
âYou,â he says and he canât mean anything but the truth of it all.
âThen be good for me,â she says. And she leans back and takes him in with one adjustment of her hips and a grasp her hand.
And then there is nothing but Rey and the tightness of her as she sets the pace, rocking into him, his hips thrusting in response.
Let me be good , he wonders to himself. Let me be good , he craves as she places that seed in his soul. Let me be good , he yearns as she comes forward and captures his lips and his hands grip her hips.
Her fingers stroke her core and her breath hitches and her voice raises and oh, how he loves that part, where she loses herself in touch and him and them. And then it stops again and his breath startles and that whimper comes again as Rey gasps against his lips, her free hand holding his hands firm above his head.
âDonât move,â she says with a nip to his ear and a kiss on his chest, her hands trailing wakes where her kisses once were. And he doesnât. He wonât, not for her, not when she wants him like this: be good for me , she says and he wants.
There is still goodness in him, someone once said long ago. But was it goodness in their eyes that defined what it was to him. But Rey was different. Rey pulled the goodness from him. She pulls it with her hands as she lifts from his hips and palms his cock, sending stars to his eyes and a moan from his throat.
She looks at him then, as his hands clench above his head and his eyes open at her voice, blurry and aching, his breath caught in his throat as it burns achingly below. Her touch is good, her lips are good, her hands are good, she is good and he is--
âWill you be good for me, Ben?â she asks, her voice thick.
âYes,â he gasps.
She lets him go and the whine that comes from him is so far from what he would think he was capable of. But he would beg for her, do what she asks, because sheâs Rey and sheâs good and she asks the same of him.
When she straddled him again and took him in again, he loses himself to her. He gives himself willingly as she leans back and into his thrusts. He watches through half-seeing eyes as her hands take herself, bracing herself against one of his knees. Her slickness coats him, sliding down from her thighs, slicking that space between them, the noise of their skin bordering obscene, but so good to his ears.
He feels her as she takes him deeper, adjusting the angle and arching back, the sounds from her coming low and slow and blossoming with want.
âYouâre so good to me,â she manages before gasping for breath. He echoes her and shifts just so to take her harder, to reach her harder, to hit that spot she seems to crave deep inside as her nails dig into the back of his thighs and pull him closer, closer, faster, faster--
âBen,â she cries, his name pulling from her lips as she moans with each thrust of his hips. âYouâre⊠so good⊠You feel⊠so goodâŠâ
And he would be good for her, here in their bed and there in their world and the galaxies beyond. All she had to do was ask and heâd bend all his power to her will. Heâd take what he had, all the parts of him that shunned light and craved the shadow and bathe them in her might because she asked. Because she was good and she wanted that of him as well.
âYes, yes yes,â she pants as she pulls herself deeper and takes him in further. âBe good for me.â
He whimpers at her voice, the sound escaping from his throat and Rey smiles and he gasps and falls into her voice again.
She increases their pace and he is all too eager to oblige, her back arching away from him, her breasts bouncing in time with them. Her mouth hangs open, her eyes open enough to watch him as she comes, her core clenching around him. Her moan reaches his ears, but he is gone as her hands keep him going, her fingers fluttering around his base, stroking him as she strokes herself to another rise.
And then he hears her voice, higher and higher as she reaches that spot again and he holds on for her because she asks for him to be good and for her, anything--
Be good and come for me, Ben, she says through the Force, through that spot in their minds where its all but instinct and the last part of themselves.
And he comes at her voice, at her name; for her still bucking against his hips, and the praise on her lips that hung open with pleasure. It echoes in the Force as he falls to her praise, as he opens to what she has and gives her all he has left. Itâs an empty, simple white space where he reaches for her, that white hot heat firing across all his neurons, until his eyes roll back in his head and his heart beats in time with her good, so good, so good . It feels so good .
The fall together, Rey splaying across his chest, her fingers in her hair, his arm across her waist. Here, they are nothing but the Force, two individuals with nothing else holding them apart but the flesh and bone of them. In the Force, they are one.
And in the Force, Rey whispers to him as she kisses his lips and pulls him down and lifts him up. Force, youâre so good to me, she says and it echoes between them, a balm to a soul that craves it so.
