strongerthanblood | (no subject)

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ben solo

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While out doing her normal grocery shopping, Rey buys a bottle of whiskey. She isn't even sure what compels her to do it, because she has never had a drop of alcohol before in her life.

She knows, in theory, what alcohol can do to a person. Never once in her life has she felt like she was safe enough to let her guard down like that.

Until now, apparently.

After dropping the rest of her things off at her apartment, Rey takes the bottle and heads instead for the Falcon. It's a beautiful night for a walk, so she takes her time with it. As she does, she amuses herself by sending subtle hints to Ben through the bond, trying to send him the urge to follow her without actually asking outright.

When she reaches the massive ship, she heads for the booth. On the table their last game of Dejarik sits unfinished, and Rey smiles to herself as she sets the bottle down next to it.

It's your move.

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"One of us should've stayed sober," he realized, even as he tipped the bottle against his lips again, taking a larger swig, if only to keep up with Rey's enthusiasm.

Heaving out a sigh, he stifled a belch, a faint huff of laughter jostling his shoulders.

"You're a terrible influence."

“What’s the fun in that?” She can’t help but to let out a snort when the always impeccably composed Ben Solo burps, and already she feels like this was a wonderful idea. He looks so beautiful when he smiles.

“That’s slander, Ben Solo.” Rey grabs the bottle and kicks off her shoes before climbing up onto the bench. After taking another swig, she turns and steps over his lap before sitting down on the table top. She’s terrible at sitting on things properly, but this way she can face him and tuck her bare toes under his thighs. “You take that back.”

"I don't believe I will," Ben said haughtily, leaning back in his seat and looking up at her, his brow arched in a subtle challenge.

Apart from one hand curling loosely around one of her calves, he did not touch her.

“Is that right?” Rey’s eyes narrow as she leans in to stare at him, hovering there nearly nose to nose, before nipping at the tip of his nose with her teeth. The action surprises even her and she sits back up with a gleeful cackle, one hand on her stomach while she keeps the other curled around the bottle of liquor.

“I happen to enjoy reaping the benefits of my influence on you,” she admits, offering him the bottle as she leans in to press a soft kiss to the spot she bit.

Lifting his hands to her face, Ben smiled.

One of the benefits of her influence happened to be that he'd given his life for her own, a fact which he didn't feel compelled to remind her. He would do the same, ten times over, but it never would've happened if she hadn't shown him the same compassion on the ruins of the Death Star.

"So do I," he admitted, leaning up to press a kiss to her brow.

The look he gives her makes Rey’s cheeks feel warm, and her eyes flutter closed at the first touch of his hands. It’s incredible how much a simple touch can soothe her, warming her more than the whiskey.

She slides forward off of the table until she can straddle his lap, legs folded on either side of his thighs as the table presses against her lower back. Once she’s settled, she reaches up to pull the ties out of her hair so it can fall down around her shoulders in loose waves.

“Do you have happy memories of this ship?” Her voice is soft as she reaches up to slide her fingers through his soft hair. It’s grown longer since they’ve been in Darrow, and she curls a strand of it around her finger. It might not be something he wants to talk about, but she wants to know more about him, always.

"A few," he said, leaning back to accommodate her, his hands moving to bracket her hips.

"My father didn't like sharing the pilot's chair, but I have flown it, on rare occasions. It's a smuggling ship— he rarely used it for day trips, if that's what you're thinking," he murmured, his mouth twisting into a regretful smile.

"But yes, a few."

Edited 2020-06-27 01:35 (UTC)

Rey can picture it clearly in her mind. Ben, maybe a bit younger than she is now, with all his inky hair and ears he never quite grew into sitting in the pilot’s seat, with a smirk just like his father’s. Again, she aches for that boy.

The mention of Han causes a slight pinch to her brow, because she had cared so deeply for the man, and now she’s sitting in the lap of the man that killed him. It isn’t as simple as that, not so black and white, but it does remind her of just how complicated their situation is.

But that’s only when she thinks about it. When she just lets herself feel, it’s the simplest thing in the world.

The wry smile on his face nearly breaks her heart, and she cups his cheek as she leans in to press a lingering kiss to his forehead. When she pulls back, she twists enough to grab the bottle.

“For your father,” she says quietly, before leaning back to take another sip. This time it barely burns, and she smiles loosely at him as she lifts his hand to curl it around the neck of the bottle between their chests.

"I'd rather not think about my father," he admitted softly, even as he tipped the bottle against his own lips and dutifully took a drink.

"Where is Jyn?" He asked, brow slightly arched. "She's not likely to walk in at any moment, is she?"

That's fair enough, she thinks, and she nods as she rests her hands on his shoulders. The question makes her arch a brow, and she bites back a smile before answering.

"I might have checked in with her on my way here," Rey tells him as she traces her fingertip along the line of his jaw. "She said she's staying elsewhere tonight. Why do you ask?"

Edited 2020-06-29 02:40 (UTC)

"No reason," he murmured, turning to press his lips to the palm of her hand. Without another word, he slid out from the bench. Then, before she could voice her possible displeasure, he urged her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist, hooking his hands beneath her knees and hefting her into his arms.

He carried her deeper into the ship, following the narrow corridor into the sleeping cabins. "Which one is yours?" He asked, jerking a nod to the bunks built into the hull of the ship.

Rey locks her knees over Ben's hips and watches his face as he lifts her easily into his arms, burying the fingers of one hand into his thick hair as he carries her through the ship. Her lips part in an easy smile and she curls an arm around his shoulders.

"The last one on the left," she murmurs without looking away from him. She isn't sure she could even if she tried, and she tightens her thighs around him as they move. "It's the quietest."

With a soft huff of laughter, he carried her over to it, setting her down on her feet and urging her to climb up into it. "I thought so, too," he admitted, crawling into it behind her, ducking to clear the low hanging overhead.

He hadn't slept there in years, but he recalled behind small, curled up there in the warm recesses of the Falcon and listening to his parents bicker affectionately nearby.

Rey wobbles slightly on her feet as he sets her down, sliding her hand down the center of his chest before pulling off her zippered sweatshirt, leaving her leggings and a tank top. She tosses the sweater aside and smiles to herself as he crawls in behind her, twisting around to face him in the small space.

Finally, his words cut through the slight haze of her mind and her expression brightens, brows lifting as she smiles happily at him as she presses in close. "This one was yours, too?"

"It was," he murmured, shifting to try and get comfortable. It had been cramped for him, as a teenager, and now, he couldn't quite stretch out all the way, his knees slightly bent and tangled with her own.

"It's smaller than I remembered."

"Or maybe you're just bigger," she teases as she raises her hands up between them to rest them against his chest. He shifts and she nearly rolls out of the bunk, but she grabs onto his arm and lets out a quick burst of laughter as she scrambles to stay in place.

"Hang on, I have an idea." Rey rolls out of the bunk and pads out of the small room to grab the cushions from the bunk next door, dragging them back into the room and laying them out on the floor. "Here, bring those down here. It'll give us more space, you giant."

She stands there with her hands on her hips, cheeks pink as she raises a brow at him. "Assuming we need space for whatever it is you have in mind."

Clambering out of the bunk and dragging the cushions from it along with him, he knelt at her feet, a faint smile playing along his lips.

"We need space," he confirmed, reaching for her hand and pressing his lips to her knuckles, which were roughened slightly from a childhood of hard-living on Jakku.

When the other cushion hits the floor, Rey reaches out with her foot to straighten the two of them, pressing them together to make a comfortable place to lay. When she turns back, Ben is on his knees in front of her and Rey's eyes widen for a brief moment before she grins, watching as his plush mouth presses to her skin.

"We do?" She lets out a shuddering breath and reaches out with her other hand to push his hair back from his face. The alcohol has her feeling warm and loose, as she unconsciously squeezes her thighs together at the sight of him as she gives him a playful smile. "Are you going to teach me calligraphy?"

"Do you want me to teach you calligraphy?" He inquired playfully, returning her smile with a crooked one of his own.

"It's been a while, but I do have impressive penmanship," he teased, allowing himself to think back on his training, his years as a padawan, and the simple pleasure he took in some of the Jedi's more monotonous traditions. He'd often complained about the more domestic, meditative aspects of the Jedi teachings, but since leaving the temple, he found that he often missed them.

"I-- that's a trick question," she says with a laugh, tracing the curve of his bottom lip with the pad of her thumb. "Of course I want you to teach me. My penmanship is awful."

Another time, she would happily sit at Ben's side and watch him write, but right now she wants something else, so after a moment she pulls her shirt over her head and tosses it aside, leaving her bare from the waist up. Her flush spreads down her chest, because she still feels such a thrill at him looking at her this way, seeing parts of her that no one else ever has. "But maybe later?"

"Okay," he agreed, his hands at her waist, his mouth pressed to the valley between her breasts. Each time they did this, he watched her uncertainty and her anxiety fall away, her skin flushed pink with the nerves of someone unused to leaving themselves vulnerable.

"I'll teach you whatever you want," he admitted, which was its own kind of nakedness. He wanted her to know all the things he knew, and he wanted to learn everything there was to know about her.

When his mouth presses to her skin, Rey's breath hitches and she watches him with a heavy-lidded gaze, letting her hands cradle his face as his brad hands nearly span her entire waist.

"Everything," she murmurs, nodding a little as she sinks down to straddle his lap. The action makes his hands slide up her sides, along her narrow waist and over the span of her ribs, raising goosebumps along her skin.

"I want to know everything." She smiles and leans in to press a soft kiss to his mouth, pulling his bottom lip into her mouth as she curls her hands loosely around his forearms.

"Even my knowledge has its limits," he said wryly, with a smile that was perhaps more pained than it ought to have been, given their current position. Once, he would have stopped at nothing to be the most powerful being in the galaxy, strength and knowledge of the Force unmatched. He'd been foolish to think it possible, and now, wanted nothing of such lofty ambitions. Instead, all he cared to be was her equal.

Their kiss was shallow at first, even tentative, but soon, he lost himself to her, as he always did. Pushing her gently onto the cushions they'd arranged, he crawled over her, careful not to crowd her, his hands mapping out her body beneath him.

"As does mine, but you can have it all." Rey knows that Ben's knowledge outshines her own on a variety of topics, but he doesn't make her feel inferior. Instead he teaches her things and answers her questions patiently, like he has all the time in the world when it comes to her.

He kisses her deeply and she moans softly into his mouth, stretching out on the cushions once he lays her down. He's so big, covering her body entirely with his own, but she doesn't feel caged in, not even in the small space. Her world has narrowed down to this bunk, to him on top of her making her arch up into his warm hands.

"You know how to make me feel good," she assures him, pressing kisses to his mouth as she opens her thighs to make room for him. She doesn't just mean like this, even though he does know how to make her body sing. His hand travels over her breast and she gasps, squirming slightly in her eagerness. "All the time, not-- not just like this."

Edited 2020-06-29 04:42 (UTC)

Ben hummed softly, hoping she knew that he felt the same. He'd nearly forgotten what it was like, to find pleasure in anything, and she made it all seem so effortless.

Dropping his face to the slope of her neck, he kissed along her throat, his tongue dipping into the hollow between her collar bones, his mouth tracing the line of freckles he found there.

By the end of this evening, he wanted to have tasted every inch of her. They had time, and he was in no hurry.