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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"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."

"Alright," he murmured, working her through it, one hand braced against her shoulder as she nearly lurched out of his lap. She pulled away from him and he blinked, a bit dazed, watching as she rearranged herself to sit astride his lap. He drew in a shuddering breath, fumbling to push aside the elastic of his waistband, his cock springing out and slapping against his belly in a way that might've been comical at any other moment.

Taking himself in hand, he rubbed himself against her still slick folds, guiding her down onto his lap with one hand braced against her hip. "Rey."

He says her name as she sinks down onto him and it's better than flying, how he fills her up, how he looks at her as he does. One hand stays on the side of his face and her other grips his shoulder, and she gasps once she's seated fully in his lap, breathing hotly against his mouth.

"You're sure you've never done this before?" She pants out, teasing him as she takes a moment to adjust and simply revel in the sensation of feeling so complete.

After kissing him, she starts to move up and down on his cock, thighs burning as she slides her fingers into his hair, tipping his head back a little so that they're eye to eye. "I guess you just really know me, huh? Like no one else ever could. Just you."

"No, I have," he said, managing to look playfully confused. "Twice. Once last night, once this morning."

He panted against the curve of her jaw, one hand at her hip, the other arm curled around her ribs, his palm resting against the curve of her spine. Happy to let her set the pace, he leaned back to look at her, her hair hanging down around her face, falling down around his own like a veil.

"I know you," he breathed, lifting a hand to the side of her neck, his thumb resting gently against her jaw. "I'm... grateful that I know you. I can't remember the last time I felt that way about... anything."

"Ah, you're an expert then," she replies, laughing happily as his arms go around her. She braces her hands on his chest and looks down at him, slowing the movement of her hips a little as he speaks.

The words go right to the core of her, making her eyes sting as she nods. Her thighs tremble as she shifts closer to him, rocking her hips so that he barely leaves her body, and she can kiss him, slow and deep. He rocks into her and the angle makes her see stars. Sparks of pleasure ripple through her and she can feel the echo of his own pleasure and it just makes everything so much more intense, until she can't help the moans that tumble out of her mouth.

"I've been waiting for you my entire life," she gasps out, lifting one hand to rest on the side of his face, staring at him with blatant awe. "I know you, Ben. I know where you belong."

"The only way to learn is," he huffed out a breath, a low moan caught in his throat as her hips rocked against his own, "through rigorous practice."

Turning to kiss the palm of her hand, he held her close, rolling their hips in time with the heave of their breath.

"I shouldn't have taken so long." I'm sorry. I'm sorry, he thought, unspoken but clear enough for her. Only for her.

"I guess we'll just have to really commit," she gasps out, curling her hand around the back of his neck. She feels so alive in Ben's arms, like everything is in vivid technicolor. It's beautiful, all of it, and she stares at him as he speaks.

"It's alright," she says soothingly, cupping his cheek and tracing her thumb across his eyebrow, pushing his sweaty hair back from his temples. Yes, things might have been easier. They might have been different, but it doesn't matter. They're together now.

I forgive you. Her mouth finds his as she rocks slowly in his lap, fingers curled behind his ears as she lets out a gasp. "You're here now, Ben. You're here."

And then again. I forgive you. Another kiss, another moan, and she wraps her arms tightly around his shoulders. I forgive you.

He'd wanted to hold off a bit longer, but he'd wildly underestimated his ability to control himself around her. It turned out, she didn't even have to open her mouth to undo him, her intention ringing clearly through his mind, unavoidable even if he could scarcely believe it:

I forgive you.

With his face buried in the curve of her neck, he came with a helpless whimper, clutching her tightly to him, as if afraid she might fade into nothing, as he had done in Exegol.

Ben clings to her so tightly that it makes her gasp, but she likes being held by him like this, like this is where she belongs. She wraps her arm around his head as he comes, and the feedback loop of his pleasure through the bond mixes up with her own, building until all he can do is give herself over to it.

She comes with a sharp cry, trembling in his lap as her fingers tighten in his hair, panting against his temple as she swallows hard. Sex can’t always be like this, she thinks. This has to be something else, something befitting a dyad. They were made for each other, made to fit perfectly together. If it felt like this for everyone whole words would halt, she thinks.

“I’m here,” she breathes out, catching the desperate edge to his thoughts as she slides her hand through his hair and across his shoulders, soothing and fond. After he has a moment to compose himself, she rests her fingers under his chin to gently tip his face up enough for him to kiss him, soft and sweet before she nudges her nose against his. “Hi.”

Still trembling in her arms, Ben let out a rough burst of laughter, tension deep in his chest releasing on the exhale. Lifting a shaky hand to her hair, he slumped against the sofa's lumpy cushions and returned her murmured, "Hi."

He wondered, distantly, if they were somehow putting one another in danger, indulging in something so intense. Immediately, it occurred to him what a silly thought it was, considering that sex was nothing more than a biological function that most would experience in throughout their lifetimes.

"At this rate, we'll need to shower again."

"Mm, you'll survive being a little sweaty, you prince," Rey says with a fond laugh, leaning in to shove her nose behind one of his ears. "Besides, I like the way you smell."

They stay like that until he starts to soften inside of her, and she climbs off of him with trembling legs, frowning slightly at the loss of him. She feels a trickle of fluid along the crease of her thigh and somehow still possesses the ability to blush a little, even as she carefully tucks him back into his sweats.

"I do need to clean up a little," she tells him, kissing the tip of his nose before grabbing her discarded underwear and wobbling towards the bathroom. The mess between her legs isn't nearly as appealing when she isn't in his arms, and her nose wrinkles as she uses the last of the toilet paper roll to clean up. Ducking down, she opens the cabinet under the sink to grab another and her eyes fall on the box of tampons sitting there next to them.

The tampons for her monthly bleed. That she finished a week ago. Because her body is full of reproductive parts.

Rey's whole body flushes as her stomach sinks, and she presses her forehead to the cool wood of the cabinet for a moment before forcing herself to stand. She pulls on her underwear and breathes, trying not to panic, though her stomach is twisted in knots.

"Ben?" She stops at the end of the hall, biting her lip as she links her fingers together nervously. "I think we might have forgotten something. Last night. And-- and twice today."

Smiling blearily, Ben managed to pull up the elastic of his pants, his long limbs sprawled in an uncharacteristically ungainly way. He sat up with a groan, reaching for his cold coffee, nose wrinkling faintly at the bitter, slightly stale taste of it.

When she returned, he frowned at the nervousness radiating from her, panic roiling within her like a physical presence. We might have forgotten something... He stared at her, uncomprehending.

Then, her thoughts, as loud as they always were, came to him in a jumbled rush. "Oh," he said, feeling younger than he had in a long time. "Oh, I. Um."

He was suddenly overcome with embarrassment, not wanting to admit that he only had a vague notion of how that sort of thing was dealt with, in their world or this one. Before the previous night, it had never occurred to him that he might need to keep up with the details.

They stare at each other for a long moment and Rey chews nervously at her thumb nail as she thinks. This is— well, it isn’t great. She remembers what Ben said about the Jedi and their lack of personal attachments, and it makes sense that he wouldn’t have thought about it. She knows that she probably should have, but she couldn’t think of anything but how badly she wanted him.

“It’s— it’ll be okay,” Rey says after a moment, pushing her hair back from her face and putting it up in a messy bun with the elastic around her wrist. “I talked to someone when I got here. They mentioned a— like a clinic? Where you can—“

She turns and goes into the bedroom without continuing, swallowing hard has she pulls off the sweater and jerkily pulls on a pair of leggings. They have to figure this out because she can’t— she just can’t. “Ben! Come get dressed.”

Scrambling to his feet, Ben followed her into the bedroom, some of his earlier stupor fading.

"Rey, we'll be all right," he said, reaching for his sweater and pulling it on over his head. He looked down at his clothes, which were clearly meant for sleep, and heaved a sigh.

"I'm now seeing the err in rushing over without putting on clothes."

"Oh, now you're an optimist," Rey says as he grabs his sweater, turning to look at him with her hands on her hips. She still isn't wearing a shirt, but she's pretty sure she's done feeling self-conscious around him. Especially right now. “Trust me, you rushing over in your sleep clothes was the best idea at the time. It made me feel— wanted.”

She does feel slightly reassured, so she pulls on a tank top and then a thin sweatshirt, zipping it halfway up before coming over to press her face to his shoulder for a moment.

"We can go to your place so you can change," she says into his sweater. "And then to the clinic."

Edited 2020-03-30 08:30 (UTC)

"I've always been an optimist," he claimed, which was, in a way, not untrue. "My idea of an optimal outcome was what differed from yours."

Pressing his palm to the small of her back, he murmured, "You were." Then, a brief pause. "You are."

Finding his shoes in her living room, he stepped into them, then nodded, fishing his phone from his pocket and leading her to the door. "I'll call a car."

Rey can’t help but to let out a small laugh. He has always spoken differently than her, more clipped and formal. He takes his time with his words whereas Rey doesn’t, and it used to make her feel inferior. It doesn’t anymore. They’re just different, and she likes the way he talks.

Especially when he says kind things, like how she’s wanted. It isn’t as if she’s unaware, considering their bond, but there is something special about hearing the words.

He pulls away and Rey takes a deep breath, steeling herself as she finds her own shoes and puts them on. She grabs her wallet and her phone. And her keys. So many little things she never needed before. After shoving them all in the pockets of her hoodie, she follows Ben out into the courtyard, squinting against the late morning sun.

“I learned how to drive a car, did I tell you?” She says, sounding proud of herself. “A truck, actually, but I assume it’s much the same.”

"You didn't," he said, falling into step at her side. It was still strange, walking along with her. Standing side by side. Living life in each other's orbit, instead of constantly crashing together only to have her run from him.

"I can't imagine it was much of a challenge," he said, with a hint of respect. "You're a natural pilot." His lips twitched, struggling to hide a smirk. "You're almost as good a pilot as me."

[for ben]

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