strongerthanblood | [for ben]

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ben solo

[for ben]

She can't sleep.

For hours, she's tried but something is keeping her awake, some gnawing thing that she can't seem to identify. She gets up to make tea, padding silently through her too big apartment in a pajama set that felt had like a particularly decadent purchase, a soft pink silk tank with thin straps and matching shorts.

Boy shorts, the sales woman had called them. They don't look like anything she's ever seen a boy wear, but she didn't argue. She had thought the set was pretty, and she keeps telling herself that it's okay to get something just because it was pretty. And if a part of the reason she gets it is because maybe she'd like someone else to see it someday, well, she doesn't think on it too hard.

After drinking a cup of tea and doing a little reading, she tries again to go to sleep, but it's futile. She feels too warm, stretched out on one side of the bed with a sheet draped across her legs, and she closes her eyes again to avoid staring up at the ceiling.

She feels so restless, and she allows herself to wonder what Ben is doing, if he's tossing and turning like she is. She thinks of him so often, in a multitude of ways, but right now she thinks of him fondly, wondering what he might look like when he sleeps.

Rey is so busy wondering, in fact, that she doesn't even notice when the mattress subtly dips with added weight.

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Rey swallows hard at that, jaw working as she tries to think of something reassuring to say, but she can’t. He did what he did and there is no changing that, but Ben knows that. He has never once tried to make excuses for what he did, and there is nothing to do but move past it.

“Perhaps he knew,” she says softly, touching the pad of her finger to the divot under his bottom lip. “At least in some part, what we were to each other. It’s not like he would have told us.”

"I was the darkness he was trying to shield you from," he said, with an edge of wry humor. While he now understood Luke's intentions a bit better than he had once, he still couldn't let go of all the bitterness he felt towards his uncle. Perhaps, what hurt the most was Luke's weakness. To a young Ben Solo, his Uncle Luke had seemed invincible.

It was the greatest disappointment, realizing that he was just a man. A man capable of awful mistakes.

"The Jedi forbid personal attachments," he said, his hand curling gently around Rey's slim wrist, his lips pressing to the tips of her fingers.

“Fat lot of good that did,” Rey replies with a shake of her head. “I knew you would come back, Ben. I just knew it.”

She watches Ben’s face and the emotions that play across it so subtly, looking into his deep brown eyes. He is the one responsible for his actions in the end, but so many people failed him along the way. It all could have gone so much differently, she thinks, but they’ll never know.

“I would think a dyad would be exempt from that, don’t you?” Admittedly, Rey had sort of forgotten that part of the Jedi code. Or— not forgotten, but at the time it seemed so irrelevant that she didn’t give it much thought. “Why would we be given this sort of connection if we weren’t meant to nurture it?”

"I didn't," he admitted, with a faint smirk, and while he didn't say it, he knew she could feel how grateful he was to her, for not giving up on him.

"I doubt they gave the possibility much thought," he said, shifting his grip on her wrist, his thumb brushing along the lines of her palm. "Dyads are exceptionally rare."

He kissed the heel of her palm, pressing his face there for a long moment.

"The Sith foretold of it, not the Jedi. They were obsessed with it. With the power a dyad could possess."

“I knew enough for both of us,” she assures him, smiling at that rush of gratitude. Of course, she did have her moments of doubt, fueled by desperation. She was a fool to think she could end it all when she ran him through on those ruins. The second the lightsaber made contact, she ached with regret the likes of which she had never known.

And she’s sure Ben would have felt the same. Neither of them could ever die at the other’s hand, not without also destroying themselves.

Her eyes narrow at the mention of the Sith, but the tender way he touches her reassures her, and she uses her other hand to sweep his hair back from his face. “I am not interested in power.”

Edited 2020-03-20 03:40 (UTC)

"Oh, I know," Ben said, smiling briefly into the palm of her hand. "I couldn't understand it. That was all I ever had to offer you, and you wouldn't take it."

This time, the smile he gave her was tinged with sadness.

"They assumed that power could only ever exist in the dark side. They were wrong. I was wrong."

“I just wanted you,” she admits, turning in his lap until she’s straddling his thighs, settling back so that she can face him. “You’re plenty, Ben.”

Her palms rest gently against the sides of his neck, sliding back into the soft hair at his nape. For a long moment she doesn’t know what to say, so she leans in to give him a gentle kiss.

“You know better now,” she assures him, reaching down to take one of his hands in her own, threading their fingers together. “As for the Jedi code. We’re the last ones, aren’t we? So who’s to say we can’t make a little adjustment to the rules? An addendum, just for us.”

"You're the last of the Jedi, Rey. The last Skywalker. I have no right to claim that for myself, not after what I've done," he said, a firm statement of fact. Fleeing the temple, he'd known that he had forfeited his place among the Jedi Order, and whatever redemption he might've earned in death couldn't change that.

"I wanted you. When we fought in the snow. You bested me, and I... I lost my way. All I could think of was you. It was twisted and selfish. I wanted to possess you for my own—" He cut himself off, drawing in a shuddering breath, his jaw working anxiously.

"To feed my own power. I might've killed you." He reached out to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. "I wish I could be as forgiving as you are," he admitted, then, with a faint flicker of a smile, he added, "Or are you as selfish as I am?"

It was easy, perhaps, to forgive someone you were bound to through fate.

Edited 2020-03-20 04:14 (UTC)

Rey simply nods at that, knowing better than to argue. It’s a lonely feeling, being the last of something. The last Jedi, the last Skywalker. The last Palpatine.

She listens to Ben as he speaks, keeping her hand on his jaw and stroking her thumb soothingly across his cheek as his anxiety rises. It’s easy to remember how terrified she was of him. Sometimes it’s hard to fathom that the man who fought her in Starkiller Base and the man looking at her now are one in the same, but they are. And she loves him still.

“I would have talked you out of it,” she assures him, choosing to believe it because there is no way to find out if she’s wrong. “You felt it too, remember?”

He smiles at her and she returns it, shrugging her shoulders a little before tracing the pad of her finger along his dark eyebrow. “Maybe it’s a little of both. I— I need you, Ben. I just do. I don’t know if that makes me forgiving, or selfish. I don’t really care to decide. I don’t care about the code. I just need you.”

She surges forward to kiss him, sweeping her tongue into his mouth before pulling away to rest her forehead against his. “I am the last Jedi, and I’m changing the rules.”

"All right," he agreed, his hands framing the sides of her face, "It's futile, arguing with you, once you've set your mind to something."

Of course, that didn't mean there weren't arguments in their future. A lot of them, judging by who they both were, but if the past was any indication, she would be winning more than her share. Luckily, losing to her never felt like the defeat that it should have.

Just then, her phone buzzed loudly against the coffee table, alerting them that the delivery driver had arrived.

"I'm glad you've come to your senses," she says warmly, relaxing against him as he touches her face. She'll never get used to being touched like this, she's sure. It feels like she has an entire lifetime of being starved for affection to make up for, and Ben seems more than up to the challenge.

More than anything, she's glad that they're on the same side. It isn't even so much light versus dark anymore, now that they're stuck in this place. It's just Rey and Ben, and she can't help but to feel like they were meant to have this second chance.

She kisses him again, wanting to be close to him, to take him inside of her again, but before she can put this desire into action her phone vibrates and she huffs in frustration against his mouth. Gripping the sides of his face, she gives him another kiss and then gracefully twists off of his lap, smoothing down his sweater before going to answer the door.

The delivery guy looks her over and Rey murmurs her thanks as she shuts the door in his face, juggling the bag and the coffee as she makes her way back over to Ben.

"Here's your coffee, now that our tea is cold," she says with a laugh, handing him the cup as she sits at his side. The burritos are big and warm and Rey lets out an involuntary squeak of happiness as she hands his over. "Here, eat up."

She was... adorable. He couldn't remember the last time, if ever, that he'd thought of another person in that way. Everything about her was infectious— her anger, her passion, her enthusiasm, even her sadness and doubt. Now, she stood in front of him, practically joyous over a few breakfast burritos. It ought to have seemed foolish, but it didn't. It wasn't. It was adorable, and he had no idea what to do but take the food and coffee with a murmured, "Thank you."

After a sip of the coffee, which was still surprisingly hot, he set it aside and turned his attention to the rolled, handheld food. Peeling back the wrapper, he took a bite. It was savory and a bit too salty, and delicious.

Rey tucks her legs under herself as she turns to watch him expectantly, her own burrito momentarily forgotten as she waits for Ben to try it. When he does, she grins at him and then tears into her own so she can enthusiastically bite off a corner.

She leans against his side as they eat, washing down bites of egg and cheese with lukewarm tea and wondering if she’s ever felt so content in her entire life. They are prisoners here. That is certainly something to consider, and a part of her hates so much to be kept here and told she cannot leave.

But on the other hand— she has a roof over her head. She has a warm bed and running water. She never has to worry about food. And, above all else, she has Ben. If she were going to be held captive anywhere, she’s glad that it’s here.

To no one’s great surprise, she finishes her burrito first and crumples up the foil, shoving it into the paper bag before wiping her hands and mouth with a napkin. After another sip of tea, she unfurls herself to lay on her back with her head in Ben’s lap, dragging his sweater up so she can pat contentedly at her bare belly.

“I have excellent ideas,” she says brightly, smiling up at him before turning her head so she can press a kiss to his stomach.

Ben took more time with his food, tucking it away methodically, though something in him seemed to give himself permission to enjoy it. They sat in companionable silence, something they they're rarely had the opportunity for, before. When he finished off his food, crumpling the foil and tucking it neatly into the paper bag, he sat back, warm and satisfied.

Wiping his hands, he looked down at her with a curious arch to his brow. Laughter crinkled the corners of his eyes as he reached out to cover her hand with his own, his fingertips brushing the soft skin of her stomach.

"You do," he said, with a bit more reverence than her teasing statement called for.

Rey stares up at Ben with a soft sort of wonder in her gaze, taking in the way his eyes crinkle so endearingly at the corners. His warm hand envelops hers and he looks at her like he loves her and this is what she was searching for her entire life.

This acceptance and understanding, this reverence. Happiness. And maybe it is selfish, but she can see past all the things he's done to the man underneath. She accepts it and understands it. She reveres him.

She slides her hand out from under his to rest it on top of it instead, wanting to feel his palm against her skin. His hand spans so much of her waist and she lets out a content sigh, sliding back until her head rests on the arm of the sofa and she's sprawled fully across his lap, his thighs bracing her back as she draws her knees up slightly.

"Does this mean that you're going to listen to me more often?" She teases warmly, sliding her hand along his forearm. "I'll have to remember that."

"Within reason," he murmured, his thumb tracing the dip just below her rib cage, the shirt rucking higher to expose her torso. One corner of his mouth twitched as he swept his hand higher, high thumb grazing the bottom edge of one nipple.

"Though, if I'm going to get into trouble, I suppose I'll prefer it if you're the one to lead me there."

"I'll try to make it good trouble," Rey assures him, giving him a playfully solemn nod before smiling widely. His hand glides along her skin, pushing the sweater up to reveal more of her body, and she realizes that any self-consciousness she may have felt the previous night has melted away, at least when it comes to him.

The intensity in his gaze used to unnerve her but now she can't seem to get enough of it, and she bites her lip as his hand slides higher, trailing over the underside of her breast.

"You like what you see?" Rey asks, perhaps in some attempt to flirt, and her cheeks flush as she scrunches up her nose, laughing softly as she covers her eyes with one hand.

"I would've thought that was obvious by now," he said, a helpless grin breaking out across his face as she squirmed with embarrassment, her nose wrinkled endearingly.

With her eyes hidden, he let himself look at her, her torso stretched across his lap, the low waistband of her cotton panties leaving the wings of his hipbones exposed. Her skin wasn't flawless. It was marked with scars, with freckles, even a blemish or two, but to him, she was perfect.

He tweaked at her nipple, pinching it gently between his thumb and forefinger, his touch more curious than anything else.

Rey stays there, sprawled out across his lap with her hand over her eyes, because she knows Ben is looking at her. Even more surprising, he likes what he sees. She can feel it, and it makes her whole body tingle with warmth.

His fingertips pull at her nipple and her breath hitches as she squeezes her thighs together, peeking up at him from between her fingers. "It's a little obvious."

She bites her lip and then pulls the sweater up over her head, letting it drop to the floor, baring herself to Ben's questing hands. She has never really been so at his mercy, stretched out across his lap wearing only a pair of underwear, but she likes it. She trusts him, and she makes sure that he can feel just how much.

"I wasn't trying to be subtle," he admitted, pinching her nipple a bit harder, rolling it carefully between his fingertips, his own breath hitching at the way the pink flesh puckered and tightened beneath his touch. Turning his hand to cup the underside of her breast in his palm, he squeezed it gently, his thighs spreading a bit wider to cradle her shoulders and the small of her back.

His hand slid lower while the other slid beneath her neck, cradling the back of her skull as he explored the flat of her belly, his thumb dipping into her navel, his fingertips dipping briefly beneath the elastic of her panties.

Sliding that hand along the inside of her thighs, he wedged her knees apart, the back of his thumb grazing the cotton of her underwear where she was warm and already a bit damp. He touched her over the thin fabric, his fingertip tracing the slit between the folds of her labia, his thumb flicking gently over her clitoris before drifting away entirely.

He continued that way for a while, tracing patterns across her skin, nebula and starbursts across her collarbones, until she was squirming and covered in goosebumps, a mottled flush staining her chest.

Any retort Rey might have had dies on her lips when Ben pinches her nipple again, sending a shock of pleasure down between her legs. She has never given them much thought before, and now she realizes what an error she's made. Or maybe it's just him.

She lets Ben explore her body, watching his face and reaching down to rest her hand on his shin, squeezing whenever something feels particularly good. By the time the his questing fingers reach between her legs, Rey's breathing has picked up and she swallows hard, twitching and letting out a quiet whimper at the brief touch to her clitoris.

It feels a little like exquisite torture, but she doesn't dare rush him. This feels different than their nearly frantic encounter the night before, which had continued into the morning. This feels more deliberate and she likes the slow build of it, even as she tries to squeeze her thighs together for some sort of relief, but Ben's arm is in the way so she can't.

His fingers trail across her jaw and she turns her head so she can pull his index finger into her mouth, feeling it glide along her tongue as her cheeks hollow around it. Her eyes never leave his, and she whimpers a little as she lets her knees fall open, thighs spread shamelessly wide.

The front of her panties was soaked, the little bloom of transparent fabric expanding as he watched her, the scent of her sharp and sudden as she spread her knees apart.

Drawing in a shuddering breath, he hooked his fingers in the elastic of her underwear, tugging them down with as much patience as he could manage. He left them there around her knees, his hand sliding up between her legs, gripping the firm muscle of her inner thigh. She left a wet streak across the back of his hand and he gasped, turning his wrist and with deliberate care, he pressed two fingers into her with achingly slow precision.

"Have you ever been this wet before?" He asked curiously, her body fluttering around his fingers as he pumped them in and out of her slowly, drawing out almost to the tips of his fingers and then swiveling back in as deeply as he could go.

A part of Rey wants to tell him to hurry but she keeps it at bay, sucking harder on his finger as he pulls her underwear down so slowly. She only lets his hand fall from her mouth when his fingers press inside of her, sliding in so deep that her thighs quiver.

The question makes her flush even more, clenching down around his fingers. It's something so deeply intimate, something that no one else will ever, ever know and she likes that he asks her these things. She shakes her head and then curls her toes, gasping as his fingers slide in and out of her body. Pleasure seems to shoot through her every nerve and she presses her palm to her temple as she breathes through it, chest heaving with each deep inhale.

"No, never," she finally tells him, sliding her other hand up the back of the sofa until she can curl it over his shoulder. "Not until you. Please, Ben."

He nodded wordlessly, and moved his other hand, his fingers shining with her saliva, down to spread her open, exposing the tight, swollen nub of her clitoris. The act of it was lewd and startlingly intimate, his mouth dry with the way the channel of her body stretched around the thick length of his fingers. He circled her clit with his thumb, watching the way it pulsed greedily with each touch, the way her hips stuttered with every quick flick of his fingertip over the swollen bud.

Pumping his wrist deeper, his fingers curled upward, he began rubbing harder, faster at her clitoris, his length hard and straining against her spine.

Both hands. He has both of his hands between her legs, working her with such purpose, and Rey cries out as her spine arches. She can feel how hard he is against the small of her back and she wants it inside of her so badly, but she feels helpless against the rise of pleasure in her body.

When she comes, it's with a sharp cry and her legs close around Ben's hands as her body tries to curl in on itself. She swallows hard, panting dazedly for a moment, before pulling herself into a sitting position, fumbling a little until she's straddling his waist. She rises up onto her knees and cups his jaw, drawing his face in against her chest as she tries to catch her breath.

"I need you inside me," she pleads, fingers curled in his hair as she reaches out to brace one hand on the back of the sofa. Her whole body seems to clench with need and she throws their bond open so he can feel exactly how much she wants him, how she needs him. "Ben."

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