#reis face in the bottom panel cracks me up

[dizzybizz]

something i want from ep9

[venusandromedadjarin]

Darling

Alive, part two

18+, soft!Poe if you squint, drinking, fluff, dom!Poe, smut... a whole lot of smut, light bondage, edging, begging... Poe is just a hot husband and his wife pissed him off so now it’s payback time, 3.5k words

The cantina erupts in shouts and whoops the minute the two of you step inside, Poe's hand wrapped tightly around yours as he flashes his dazzling smile. You feel the heaviness in your chest lighten marginally as you see everyone you took off with from the base this morning, all of them smiling at the two of you. General Organa’s words echo in your mind, no one was lost today. She was right, and you hadn’t even let that sink in until now. No one’s picture was added to the wall today, and you glance at it, the heaviness lightening a bit more when you see the number of frames hasn’t changed. Poe squeezes your hand, and you glance up at him, a smile tugging at your lips. 

Red-Ten’s voice booms over the room as he lifts a bottle above the crowd, “To the Damerons!” 

You can feel Poe’s chuckle as his shoulder’s shake with it, his hand tightening as he surges forward. People clap their hands to your backs, throwing out compliments about your flying and his leadership. When you see Red-Six, you break away from him to hug her tightly. She returns the hug, nodding as you thank her for saving your life today.

“Just doing my job, Sergeant.”

You slap her shoulder, “Don’t Sergeant me, Numa. We’re drinking tonight, come on.” You clamber up on a stool, stepping onto the bar and reach a hand down to her. Taking it, she follows you, throwing her head back to laugh, her Lekku swaying with the movement. Poe’s eyes find yours from below, and they shimmer in the low light as he watches you live. Something he hasn’t seen in a long time, and it suddenly strikes him, too, that everyone came back today. 

General Organa strolls into the room and crosses her arms when she sees the two of you on the bar, both of you stilling as the bar grows quiet, waiting for her to say something. She slowly shakes her head, a grin spreading on her face as she comes through the crowd and announces, “Orson, first round is on me. The squadron deserves it. Congratulations on a successful day.” 

The whooping that breaks out is so loud it drowns out her words as she slaps Poe on the back, Finn laughing beside him at whatever she says. You see her nod towards you before quietly exiting as the shots begin to be passed around. Two of Orson’s six large, green hands reach up to give you and Numa the small glasses, filled with clear alcohol. Once everyone has one, you wink towards her and lift yours up, “To the Rebel Scum!” 

No one misses a beat as they echo you, laughter ringing out once everyone has downed the liquid. It burns down your throat and you grimace, swiping your lips with the back of your hand.��

The evening goes on like that more or less, rounds of shots being passed out as you all eat at varying times before drinking some more. While Poe and Finn wager against some other people in a game of Sabacc, you bid Numa to cover for you as you slip out of the cantina. Technically, going outside at night is frowned upon, but you risk it and slide out the vented doors into the cool air. The base keeps the doors slatted open to improve air circulation and temperature at night, since D’Qar cools down significantly when the sun drops. The air is a welcome presence after being inside the humid bar. For a few minutes, you just stand outside the doors and look up, staring at the planets you can see in the sky. Finally, you push yourself forward towards the field that the base uses as a tarmac. The sight of your X-Wing makes you groan as you walk towards it, the sticky fire retardant still sliding down the sides of it. With hesitation, you decide to climb up the ladder, shuddering when you see the inside is full of the light colored goo. Hopping down, you walk around the ship and survey the damage. The entire left engine is gone, having blown up and all, and the left wings are severely damaged. Luckily the body and right side is mostly intact, though the canopy is cracked. It would take weeks for you to fix it, maybe less if Poe helped, which you’re sure he would. Sighing, you walk over to Poe’s X-Wing to asses his damage. It’s definitely less severe, but the right side is charred and cracked, the wings bent enough that they don’t match up properly. At the very least, it’d be easier to fix than yours. 

You climb the ladder to his cockpit before sliding down into his pilot’s chair, the canopy open so you can sit back and look at the sky. It smells like him: leather and oak mixed with a slight hint of gasoline. It’s a scent you would never grow tired of having in your senses. Looking around his cockpit, you notice a fading picture tucked under the edge of one of the control panels. You gently pull it out of the metal it’s wedged under and study it in the dim light. Smiling, you realize it’s the picture Rey took of you and Poe the day you got married. On the back, it has your’s, Rey’s and Finn's initials signed on it. You wipe a tear from your cheek, realizing how fiercely you miss your best friend, before tucking it back into its spot. 

“You’re always right here with me,” Poe’s voice makes you jump, your hand flying to your mouth as you yelp.

“Maker, you scared me,” your eyes close as you try to calm your heart beat. He just chuckles and smooths your wavy hair down, his hand gentle on the crown of your head. “What are you doing out here?”

He looks down at you, humor dancing in his dark eyes, “I’m checking on you. What are you doing out there?”

You smile and point upwards, the stars lighting up his features as he looks up. You’re struck by how handsome he is, especially with the grey hair starting to streak his dark curls. The scruffy beard he’s growing makes him look older, but in the best way possible, and his smile makes your smile grow. 

“I don’t know why General Organa ever doubted your ability to be a pilot when you first joined the Resistance, you always have belonged among the stars,” he whispers, still looking up. 

You duck out from under his hand and grasp it with your own, bringing his wrist to your lips. He lets out a low sound when you kiss the sensitive skin, your tongue darting out to taste him. “If I remember correctly, you also doubted me,” you whisper against his wrist.

Poe chuckles and looks down at you, “I never doubted you, darling. I had never met anyone as bright as you and I was terrified of how quickly this lifestyle can dim that light.”

You catch his eyes, gazing at him through your lashes, your breathing hitched. Even after being with him this long, it takes you by surprise when he speaks about you like this. You and Poe never had the luxury of a slow and sweet romance. It was frantic and intense because of the Resistance, the constant fight, the constant fear of everything good coming to an end. When you both realized you felt the same way, that was the end of it, nothing was the same. It was quick and fiery, at risk of ending before it ever got the chance to start. But at times like this, after a successful fight, after the hope of the Resistance being rekindled, you are reminded of the reason you fell for him in the first place. He’s fierce, stubborn, and rough around the edges sometimes because of his cocky nature… but underneath all of that, Poe Dameron is a romantic, kind man who had to become tough in the face of adversity. This is a man who wore his mother’s wedding ring on a chain, waiting until he could give it to his life long partner. Somehow, the Maker allowed it to be you. 

“I love you,” you whisper up to him, scared of breaking the silence too harshly by speaking. He grasps your hand in his and pulls you up gently, kissing you gently before climbing down the ladder and looking back at you.

“Let’s go home,” he smiles up at you and you nod, scrambling out of the cock pit and down to him so you can take his hand again. “I love you, too.” You squeeze his hand as the two of you begin the short walk back to the main building. 

The sweet talking is forgotten the moment the lock bolts your bedroom door closed, one of Poe’s hands palming at the key pad to dim the lights while the other is cupping the column of your throat as he kisses you. You only see two other people on the walk back, by some mercy everyone is either still getting drunk or in bed, which meant the two of you are finally, finally, alone. A soft whine escapes your lips when Poe’s other hand meets your hip, his fingers digging into you as if he’s afraid he’ll float away if he doesn’t hold on for dear life. You shudder at the thought of finding your husbands fingertips bruised into your skin in the morning. He slowly pushes you back towards the bed, his tongue dipping into your mouth to twist with your own. As the back of your thighs hit the mattress, he pulls back just enough to mumble against your lips, “You drove me insane today, woman.”

Biting his bottom lip, you tug slightly before smiling against his mouth, “What are you going to do about that?” 

You bite back a groan as his large hands slides under your leather jacket, slowly pushing it off your shoulders and down your arms. His mouth works on your neck the whole time, hot and heavy against your skin as he nips and licks you. You sigh when he removes himself from you completely, blinking up at him as you watch him walk over to the desk and open the bottom drawer. Poe pulls out a belt and turns toward you, gazing at you with his brown eyes as he folds the leather into makeshift cuffs. Your pulse jumps as you watch him, heat pooling between your legs, and you fight to not press your thighs together. His voice is low when he breaks the heavy silence, rasping against his throat, his Adam’s apple bobbing, “Lay down.”

Crawling up on the bed, you follow his instructions, waiting for him to tell you what to do next. Instead, he comes over and grasps your wrists, pulling them above your head and positioning your hands in between the headboard slats. He slides the cuffs on you, pulling on the belt to tighten it before checking to see if it’s too much. You nod up at him, and he checks the headboard, making sure it won’t move too much and hurt you. Poe steps back, watching you as your breathing picks up just by being restrained. The way he’s looking at you is almost feral, his eyes darkening as his pupils dilate… and neither of you are even undressed yet. You’re vaguely aware that he can probably see your nipples hardening under your thin t-shirt as he moves to the end of the bad, slowly untying your boots and pulling them off, followed by your socks. His large hands grasp your ankles, pulling you towards him and making your arms strain against the bindings. The tension makes you worry at your bottom lip, the heat in your core intensifying. He slowly slides his hands up your legs, the callouses on his palms catching on the heavy fabric. By the time he actually reaches your waistband you’re trying not to roll your hips, searching for some sort of relief to the dull ache spreading through your body. His thick fingers quickly undo the buttons before dipping below the waist band, pausing as he looks up at you and you crane your neck, and then he’s pulling. Ripping the fabric down his legs like it might burn you if he doesn’t get it them off quick enough. He nearly chokes when he sees the lacy black underwear you’re wearing, licking his lips before he’s tearing those off you too. You lift your hips to make it easier and you shudder when the cool air hits your clit, the wetness on your thighs and pussy becoming shockingly cold, making the ache in your core even more intense. And Poe… Poe just watches as you squirm, your forearms straining as you pull at the belt. 

Finally, he starts undressing. His boots clunk as he kicks them off, his leather jacket makes a soft thud as it lands next to them. His shirt is haphazardly tossed across the room by one hand as he unbuttons his pants with the other. He strips his socks and briefs next, his eyes never leaving yours. 

You’re a wreck and he hasn’t even touched you yet. 

Finally, he’s back on the bed, kneeling between your thighs as he parts them roughly, his hands gripping your knees and pushing them apart. Your chest is heaving at this point, the fabric of your shirt sending bolts of heat down your spine as your nipples rub against it. Poe leans over you, his cock dragging across your stomach and your back arches off the bad, chasing the feeling of his tip and the pre-cum that’s glistening on it. He just smirks down at you before gently pushing your shirt up, his fingertips barely brushing your skin as he bunches the fabric until it’s halfway over your head and covering your eyes. The more you squirm, the more your arms pull at the shirt and the more it darkens your vision. You huff in frustration and he tsks, “You’ve been walking around the base all afternoon with your tits on display underneath that thin fabric?” You smile, your top teeth dragging over your lower lip as you bite it, and he groans, a low rumbling sound that is heavenly and turns you on even more. 

Then you’re yelping as he tugs at your nipple with his teeth before moving on to suck a hickey into the meat of your breast. He repeats it on the other side, your back arching as you try to chase the pleasure it brings. You feel him lay down between your legs, kissing down your stomach before nipping at your hips. He hooks your knees over his shoulders and then he stills. He just lays there, his lips pursed as he blows on your clit and makes you shudder, his hands digging into your hips and holding you down so you can’t lift your them to meat his mouth. 

You’re breathless as you beg, the words coming out in between your groans because the waiting is just too much. “P-poe, please. Pl-lease do someth-thing.”

That’s all it takes.

He licks you, moaning as he drags the muscles through your folds and tastes you like he’s never tasted anything sweeter. His tongue dips in and out of you, circling your hole and making you squirm. Then he flicks it out against your clit. And you pull so hard at the belt you think you might pull a muscle in your arm, but his hands never leave your hips and you can’t chase his mouth for more of that beautiful feeling. All at once he’s sucking, sending shivers through your body as your thighs tense up and you do your best not to squeeze his head. You’re so close, teetering on that edge, the pressure coiling in your abdomen, pulling taught and tight and ready to snap-

Then he stops.

You think you must yell, or at least throw a curse word out at him, or something.

Before you can even stay mad that he brought you to the edge and refused you, his finger is inside of you and your hips come of the bed, pushing it in deeper. He curls it against the spot that makes you see fucking stars, and then he’s fucking you with it before adding a second. Curling and thrusting and sending you towards that edge again. 

Right as you start to tremble, a soft whine escaping your parted lips, he stops again, your walls fluttering around his fingers, searching for the slightest movement to send you careening off that edge. You feel tears prick at your eyes, the coiling pleasure in your abdomen raging so hot that you think you might actually cry. 

But instead of tears, you cry out as Poe simultaneously adds a third finger and sucks on your clit. Your walls clamp down around his fingers as he fucks you through it. Your eyes flutter closed underneath the blindfold, and you’re sure they roll back, as your hips jolt off the bed, chasing his mouth and that hot tongue that sends electric shocks down your spine and through your limbs. You’re trembling, definitely squeezing him in between your thighs, but you can’t bring yourself to care as the coiling, tight rubber band of pleasure snaps so hard that it feels white hot. 

When you finally come down, he’s still drinking you up, lazily licking you and moaning into your folds. When he stops, he leans his head against the apex of your thigh, his facial hair tickling the already sensitive skin, as he watches his fingers slide in and out of you, shimmering with your juices. Even though you can’t see him now, you’re well aware of his fascination because he’s done this before. You gasp when he finally drags his fingers out of you fully and crawls over you, leaning down to kiss you as he pushes the t-shirt all the way up to your wrists. His tongue dips into your mouth, both of you moaning as you taste yourself on him. When he breaks away from you, you look up at him with big eyes, “Let me touch you.”

He smirks, kissing you once more before moving back between your legs and positioning his dripping cock so that the tip rubs your clit. “No,” Poe watches you as he slides his dick against your clit, making you pull at the belt and throw your head back, biting back a moan. Then he’s moving again, positioning himself before sheathing his cock in you with on thrust, his hips snapping against yours. You cry out, the pain and pleasure mixing low in your torso and coiling into the start of another orgasm. You wrap your legs around him, hooking your ankles behind his back and he palms your knees, spreading you and using your legs as support as he pounds into you. The way his hips dig into you with every thrust has you seeing stars already and you can tell by his furrowed brow and heavy breathing that he won’t last long but he reaches down to thumb at your clit anyways, pushing you towards your release again. “Cum for me.”

And you do. It overtakes you before you even have the chance to fight it, coursing through you and firing every synapse in your body at once, it overwhelms you so much that you barely make a sound as you squeeze his cock. Your eyes close and you pull at the bindings, your wrists aching under the pressure and all the while, he fucks you through it, his pace never faltering as he continues to hit that spot inside you that makes you feel like you might be on fire in the best way possible. 

He doesn’t cum until you start to come down, your walls finally letting up just enough for him to tense inside you and paint them with himself. He collapses against you, shuddering as he nips at your nipples, low groans bubbling from his throat as he finishes pumping himself into you. He shakily reaches up to loosen the belt as he pants against your chest and you immediately pull your hands out to reach for him. You rub your hands through his hair, trace your fingertips up and down the curve of his spine, knead his shoulder muscles… you do all of it, just reveling in the afterglow of orgasms and in the fact you can touch him now.

Poe finally turns his head so his cheek rests against your sternum, whispering against your skin, “Don’t get tired on me yet, darling. I’m not done with you.”

[triscribe]

The Difference Between Scavenging and Stealing

The ship came down in a hail of smoke and burning parts.

All motion in Niima Outpost froze, scavengers and dealers alike staring at the Star Destroyer falling to pieces through Jakku’s atmosphere. The massive vessel finally landed with a distant WHOOM, creating a mushrooming cloud from the impact point. It took a few moments, after the sand began to settle, before someone moved and set off a frenzy. Every scavenger raced for their vehicles, grabbing extra ropes and nets as they went.

Having already finished her business for the day and been walking back to her rusty old speeder, ten year old Rey was one of the first to roar out of the outpost. The girl didn’t even stop to think - if she could get to the new wreck before anyone else, she’d be able to gather up the kinds of parts and materials that went for big money, the kinds other ships had already been picked clean of.

Unfortunately, better-maintained speeders managed to over-take her little craft, and the girl grit her teeth as they barreled onwards. Adjusting her course, she aimed to pull in alongside the Destroyer’s stern, rather than heading for the undercarriage docking bays where entry would be easiest.

As soon as she arrived, the kid powered down and hid her speeder, then ran to start climbing the crunched and distorted bulwarks. Sure enough, about halfway up, Rey found a tear in the ship’s plating, just big enough for her to squeeze through.

The inside... was a mess.

Flames still burned up and down certain corridors, and the girl readjusted her face mask, glad that the thick cloth could block more debris than just sand. Working her way inward, she paused occasionally to snatch bits of wiring and electronic components to stuff in her belt pouches, the sorts of things she could use to fix up the big red dune-skimmer half-buried next to her house.

Finally, Rey found a vertical shaft clear of smoke, and started heading downwards, towards the engines. She had to keep pausing to listen to distant taps and pings, checking for the inevitable arrival of other scavengers. Being the first to the most valuable pieces of equipment wouldn’t matter if she couldn’t get out with them before someone bigger got there, looking for the same items.

(Most scavengers didn’t share.)

Rey carried a pipe-staff for the exclusive reason of beating off bullies who thought they could take her stuff, but then she’d be distracted, and someone else could grab the parts and take off.

(It wouldn’t be the first time.)

Eventually, she reached a spot where the shaft wall was warped, blocking it off, and the girl had to climb back up to an exit in order to go find another route to the engines. The corridor she emerged into, though, looked like nothing she’d ever seen in another Star Destroyer.

Piles of tools and welding materials were stacked up alongside one wall, a collection of old stormtrooper armor against the other. A whole bunch of cloth and padding material formed a sleep pallet in one corner, next to a box of parts and a half-assembled holotable. Opposite of those were crates nearly as tall as Rey herself, and she drifted closer to peek inside one.

Ration packs. Old, stamped with the insignia of the Empire, but still sealed - and there were dozens of them.

Breath caught in her throat, it took distant shouting to startle Rey into moving. She dropped her biggest bag to the floor, clambered up to perch on the edge of the crate, and started grabbing up armfuls of ration packs to drop into the canvas. So distracted with the need to gather as much food as possible, it took the girl a minute to notice the shouts were getting closer... and to realize they’d turned into screams.

Gulping, she threw the last pack into her bag before jumping down, tying it closed, and dragging the lot back to the shaft entrance.

Climbing back up was a lot harder with the extra weight, but Rey grit her teeth and kept at it, determined to get her prize out safely before returning to look for more. Screams and cries of pain or anger kept reverberating around the cracked decks of the ship, echoing to the point that she couldn’t tell where they were originating from. But one thing was absolutely clear to the girl: someone had still been living on the Destroyer when it crashed.

And that someone didn’t like scavengers coming for their stuff.

-Star Wars-

When he felt the last of the intruders retreat, the blue-haired man deactivated his weapon with a sigh. “Fantastic way to make a first impression, Bridger, really stupendous.” After a moment, he clapped a hand across his face. “Force, now I’m even starting to sound like that bastard.”

Continuing to grumble complaints, the man strode through the once-again empty corridors, absent gestures here and there dropping loose panels on top of fires to smother them. Soon enough he arrived at the particular stretch he’d turned into his own private hideaway, only to pause. Something felt... off. Like a lingering presence in the air, but even less tangible.

Fingers tightening around his lightsaber, the man moved more cautiously, all senses extended to search for any intruders he might have missed. No one sprung out at him from the shadows, and the turbolift shaft at the far end was empty when he poked his head through the opening to check. It wasn’t until he began to inspect his supplies that the man found definite proof someone had been there.

The bare bottom of one of his ration crates seemed to echo with derisive laughter. He stared for a long while, before finally shutting his eyes... and reaching out through the Force.

In one direction, the intruders he’d scared away gathered nearby, fear and resentment and greed marking their faint signatures. Off to the other side, though, towards the ship’s stern, was a single lifeform, burning so brightly in the Force it was astounding he hadn’t sensed them earlier. It was this lifeform, filled by a hesitant joy overshadowed by the steady need to get to safety, that he’d bet had stolen a quarter of his food supply.

Well. If he’d managed to swipe that many meals in one go as a kid, his emotions would likely be much the same.

Warning whispers prickled at the edge of his mind. The intruders were absorbing reinforcements into their ranks.

He sighed.

Chasing them all off again would, theoretically, be doable, but the same cycle was bound to repeat again and again. There was the option of killing them all instead, as a dark little voice in the back of his mind pointed out, but...

But.

This wasn’t war. This was people trying to scavenge enough to survive.

Another sigh. And then he started to pack up his supplies, still keeping tabs on the brightly shining Force signature in the back of his mind.

Maybe they wouldn’t mind trading some more ration packs in exchange for local intel, and possibly a new place to sleep.

-Star Wars-

For the first time that she could remember, Rey had enough food to feast.

Each pack came with a square of protein and carbohydrate blend, a few sticks of vegetable nutrient, and a water bulb. She scarfed her first meal down to quiet the grumbles of her belly, and then ate a second, more slowly, in order to savor the new tastes and textures.

It was while she sat on top of her hut, gradually draining the second water bulb, that Rey felt one of her warning tickles - like someone not really there had tapped on her shoulder. The girl turned, squinting in the sunset light, to look in the direction of Niima Outpost, and beyond it the new wreck.

A figure approaching her home lifted a hand to wave.

Instantly, Rey rolled off the top of her hut and in through the opening, sliding shut the meager door she’d made out of scrap metal. Then she grabbed up her staff, slammed her back against the barrier, and waited, heart pounding.

Two... five... ten minutes went by, and she didn’t hear anything.

Biting her lip, Rey pushed up onto her toes, straining to peek over the top of her makeshift door, which didn’t quite reach the top of the hut’s opening. A glimpse of dark blue hair made her duck right back down again, but apparently the stranger still managed to spot her.

“You know,” a voice called out, “If you wanted some of my rations, all you had to do was ask.”

Oh. Oh no. Oh no, oh no oh no.

The person who lived on the new wreck had followed her.

Shoving down her sudden terror, Rey responded in the only way she knew how: “Go away!”

“Not until I have a chance to talk to you,” the stranger replied.

“I’m not giving them back!”

Chuckling. “‘Course not, you’ve probably already split them between at least three different hiding places. Or at least, that’s what I would’ve done, if I’d ever managed to steal that much food when I was your age.”

Scowling, Rey got up on tip-toe again, high enough her brown eyes could meet an amused blue gaze. “I didn’t steal ‘em! I’m a scavenger, not a thief!”

“Uhh, hate to break it to you kid, but the only difference between scavenging and stealing is whether the previous owner of the stuff you take is still alive.” The man gestured to himself. “And since I’m not dead yet, well...”

Rey dropped back down with a huff. “I’m still not giving any of them back! If you didn’t want your stuff taken, you should’ve protected it better!”

“Yeah, I know. I was a little more worried about those friends of yours at the time, though.”

The girl snorted. “I don’t have friends.”

A thoughtful hum reached her ears. “What about family, then?”

Unexpected tears suddenly welled up in her eyes, and Rey held them back by sheer willpower. “They’re coming back for me. Someday. They will.”

The stranger stayed quiet for a while. “I dunno if my family will come for me,” he finally said. “I’ve been lost for so long, I don’t even know if any of them are still alive.”

Something in his voice made Rey pause. Tentatively, she shoved her scrap door over a bit, to be better able to peer outside at the guy sitting in front of her home. His hair was kind of long, with roughly cut bangs, and the longer bits pulled back into a ponytail. Two narrow scars marked one side of his face, and his clothes were grease- and soot-stained and covered in patches. A bunch of work pouches hung from his belt with different odds and ends sticking out, including a weird looking rod that held Rey’s attention for a long moment.

When she glanced back up, the man’s head was tilted to one side, as he stared back. Something nudged her. Like the warnings that tickled at the edge of her mind, but more insistent, encouraging. Taking a deep breath, Rey pushed the door over enough for her to step outside.

One side of the man’s mouth quirked up. “You’re not one to stay scared for long, huh?”

“‘M not scared,” she sniffed. “I’m careful.”

“Hi Careful, I’m Ezra.”

Rey blinked. “What?”

“Heh, sorry, I’ve always wanted to use that joke,” the man apologized with a grin. “But my name is Ezra, Ezra Bridger. What’s yours?”

“...Rey.”

“It’s nice to meet you Rey,” Ezra said, not commenting on her lack of a last name. “So, if we want to move on from the whole scavenging/stealing debate, how about this: you keep all of the rations you swiped and I won’t try to take them back, in exchange for you letting me camp here and sharing some information.”

Face scrunching up, Rey thought about it for a minute. She liked her house because it was hers, far enough away from Niima and the other campsites that no one bothered her. On the other hand, she did feel kinda bad about swiping so much of Ezra’s food when he didn’t even act a little mad about it.

“...what sort of information?”

“Well, for starters, how about telling me what planet this is?”

Rey’s eyebrows shot up. “Jakku - you didn’t know that?”

“Nope.” Moving slowly, Ezra reached into one of his belt pouches, and pulled out a pretty gold and blue cube. “Like I said, I’ve been lost for a long time.”

The girl didn’t have much time to think about that, because her attention focused completely on the cube when Ezra let go of it mid-air - and it didn’t fall down. She watched, stunned, as the cube’s components shifted, opened, and started to project a holographic star map. “Whoa.”

Again, one corner of the man’s mouth lifted into a half-grin. “Cool trick, right?”

“How are you doing that?”

“With the Force, all things are possible,” Ezra murmured. He focused on the map as it slowly spun, before pausing on a certain sector. “There we are, Jakku - middle of nowhere and clear across the galaxy from Lothal, greaaat.” Scrubbing a hand across his face, the man sighed.

“Is that where you’re from? Lothal?”

“Mm-hm. Born there, survived there, fought there.” He glanced up at the darkening sky, suddenly looking a lot older and more tired than before. “Fields of grass as far as you can see, lakes as big as oceans, smooth mountains scattered around...”

Rey tried to picture it, despite only vaguely knowing what the words meant. For a moment, something hummed at the forefront of her mind, and she thought she saw some blurs of bright colors, green and blue and brown. But then the moment passed. Rey blinked her eyes clear, and saw Ezra staring at her, one side of his mouth partially turned up in a thoughtful expression. “Have you ever heard of the Force, Rey?”

She frowned. “No. What’s that?”

“It’s- well, it’s a force,” Ezra chuckled, “Something that binds everything in the galaxy together, connecting, flowing, transferring energy. And some people are more deeply connected to it than others, which lets them do things like, well, like this.” He gestured to the cube, still floating in place. “If I’m right, you’ve got a really strong connection.”

Rey blinked at him, then at the cube, then back at Ezra. “I can’t do that.”

“It takes practice, and someone teaching you the basics. But once you take even just one step in learning out how to open yourself up to the Force, a lot of it works on the same principles, the same patterns.”

Her gaze dropped back to the cube, and felt another nudge on her mind. “...can you show me?”

“Sure. Come sit like this - you don’t have to get too close if you don’t want to, but less distance helps.” Chewing at her lower lip, Rey took a few hesitant steps forward, before dropping down to sit on her knees like Ezra, just out of arm’s reach. He grinned. “Okay. Close your eyes, and listen to the sound of my breathing... in, hold, and out, hold... match it with me, alright?”

Rey hummed, eyes shut, focusing on the steady inhales and exhales and copying them.

“That’s good. Now feel, not with your body, but with your mind.”

And Rey... felt.

The same brief warmth she got from the nudges that warned her, guided her, completely surrounded the floating cube. Opposite it, Ezra felt hotter, sharper, with bits of cold around the edges that just made his center seem even brighter. And beyond him, Jakku was lukewarm, with faint light and cold spots and currents of something that moved between it all-

“Not bad, not bad at all.”

Ezra’s sudden words brought Rey back to herself, and she sucked in a startled breath, eyes snapping open. Around them, full night reigned, although there’d still been a bit of light from the sunset left when she had sat down. The man across from her smiled.

“What- was that the Force?” Rey asked.

“Yep. The connection that binds everything together,” he said. “And what makes it possible to be a Jedi.”

Surprised, Rey sat up a little straighter, because that was a word she knew. “Like Luke Skywalker?”

“Uh, who?”

“The last Jedi! The Hero of the Rebellion - he was the one who beat Darth Vader and the Emperor and helped bring back the Republic!”

Ezra stared at her, completely stunned. The hologram cube dropped to the ground. “He- what?”

She nodded rapidly. “Mo’junga tells stories about Skywalker and the Rebellion whenever he’s drunk, which is a lot - the Battle of Yavin, the Battle of Endor, Han Solo and Princess Leia and- and-” Rey trailed off. “...and you don’t know any of those names.”

Ezra’s jaw worked silently for a moment, and he tried to smooth his expression out, but Rey could still feel him, could feel how shaken he was. “I- no. I know Yavin, that was our base, but- I don’t recognize the others. The- the Empire’s really gone? We beat them?”

“Mm-hm. Years ago. Before I was born, anyway.”

After a long minute, something twitched. “Wait,” Ezra mumbled. “Skywalker.” He lifted a hand, and the cube floated back up, lights flashing until a new projection emerged. “-asked me to record some helpful tips for those of you going into battle against the Separatists, or any group of well-armed opponents. Now, keeping your saber moving is key to deflecting the fire of multiple adversaries. Flowing motion, one into the next, into the next and so on. I’ve, made some adjustments to the Form Four techniques that work well against droids and other ranged attackers. Here, I’ll show you-”

“That’s a Jedi,” Rey breathed in awe, as the little blue-tinted figure pulled out an actual lightsaber and started using it to swipe blaster bolts away from his body.

“Anakin Skywalker,” Ezra said, gaze narrowed. “He was a Jedi General in the Clone Wars, before the old Republic became the Empire. He taught a friend of mine - do you know the name Ahsoka Tano?”

Rey shook her head, and Ezra’s frown deepened. “Well. She was a Jedi too. My Master may have died and I might have disappeared, but this ‘Luke’ Skywalker was definitely not the last Jedi with the Rebellion-”

“Wait!” Rey shot to her feet. “You’re a Jedi?!”

The man blinked at her, before grinning. “Well, yeah. Wasn’t that obvious by now?”

“Prove it!” She demanded, pointing at the paused hologram recording. “If you’re really a Jedi, then you’ll have a lightsaber like him, right?”

Ezra’s grin widened. His hand went to the odd cylinder Rey had noticed earlier on his belt, held it up, and pressed a button. A blade of bright green plasma leapt out, humming and sizzling in the night air. Rey stared at it, eyes wide with awe.

“Yes, Rey. I’m a Jedi. And you can be one too.”

---

(Posted to my AO3 account, also under the username Triscribe, but of course my internet’s acting wonky and won’t connect so I can copy the link. Bah.)

[madsmikkelsenschesthair]

I’m sorry...ch.3

A/N: yall we are nearing the end of this tiny series! UwU I didn’t think people would like it.

Warnings: angst, mentions of Kylo forcebonding with Rey, General Hux slaps Reader, pregnancy (?)

Pairings: the usual

It had been exactly 9 months since the wedding, since Y/N and Kylo became husband and wife. Everything was fine for awhile.

And then he started training with Snoke again. Then the Force bond with Rey started.

She could feel him pulling away from her more and more every day, the darkness inside him was taking over and she grew afraid of him.

Y/N wished she had never left her father, she missed him terribly not only was her husband Force bonding with Rey but he was sinking deeper and deeper into the darkness. But how could she leave now? She looked out into the training room watching Stormtroopers train when a sudden kick coming from her tummy pulled her out of her thoughts. Y/N stroked her swollen belly softly and looked down as she did so. She was now eight months pregnant but she looked like she had swallowed a small watermelon. No one except for Snoke and Kylo knew that she was pregnant. Kylo said it was for the safety of both her and their baby that the less people knew the more safer she was. Y/N pulled the warm cloak around her tightly enough to cover her belly. The blast doors hissed opened and Y/N turned to see General Hux standing a few feet away from her.

"Hey Tij" she said softly. He had a stony look on his face, his green eyes cold and hard. Y/N wanted to prod his mind to find out why he was looking at her that way but he beat her to it.

"I know." Was all he said. Her eyes widened with both fear and shock. A scream rose to her throat but she swallowed it.

"How-" but he cut her off. He held up a folder which she instantly recognized as her health records.

"I should had known," he hissed angrily and opened the folder, "I've seen the way you look at each other like you have some DIRTY secret. You stopped drinking wine at dinner months ago, you go for routine checkups every month. You're hormonal and sick all the time and you're always wearing that stupid cloak."

Y/N lowered her eyes avoiding his angry gaze. Her bottom lip began to tremble.

He slowly walked towards her until he was close enough to touch her. "Look at me when I'm speaking to you Y/N..." Hux said in a low dangerous tone. She looked up only for him to slap her. Hard enough to make her stumble over. Y/N felt her cheek burn already his angry handprint marked her face.

"Have you gone mad?!" She cried out. Y/N was holding on to her stinging cheek a look of shock plastered on her face.

Hux ran a hand through his hair in frustration, "No not mad Y/N but I fear you will drive me to it. You could have been smart enough to use protection but no you chose to get knocked up by that stupid man!" Y/N stood up and shed the cloak from her shoulders revealing her pregnant belly without a care in the world now.

"I didn't choose to get pregnant to annoy you Armitage! I chose to have a baby for Kylo and I because this child is the product of our love, why are you so mad?"

Hux grabbed her by both of her wrists and pulled her to him, "Because you chose him over me! You knew I loved you yet you ran off and married him when I could have given you more!" Then to her surprise he kissed her. His kiss was not angry or rough but sweet and gentle and then she kissed him back. Their hearts fluttered against their chest and all of their anger sizzled out of them. They pulled away and looked into each other's eyes, "Why didn't you tell me how you felt?" Y/N whispered.

He closed his eyes and shook his head, "I saw the way you looked at him and I knew you only saw me as a friend. Leave him."

Y/N frowned, "What?"

"Leave him Y/N! Let me take care of you and your child....a child I am willing to raise as my own." Her jaw dropped and tears filled her eyes. At that moment then last doors opened again and both of them looked over. Kylo was staring at both of them, the rage inside him grew when he saw a handprint on Y/N's face along with her water e/c eyes. Hux let her go and Kylo calmly walked over to her and placed a hand on top of her belly, "Love of my life are you alright?" he asked. She looked over at Hux and said, "I'm fine..." Kylo kissed her cheek, "Go back to our quarters we'll talk there." Y/N looked at Hux one last time and walked away. As soon as the blast doors closed behind her, Kylo threw Hux across the room hitting the control panels.

"You lay a hand on my wife one more time and that will be the last time you have hands" Kylo roared. Hux's eyes widened but didn't say anything instead he watched him go.

_________________________________

"Do you care about her Ben?" Y/N said as soon as Kylo walked into their quarters. He was confused, who was she talking about?

"What?"

"Rey. Do you care about her Ben?" Her voice began to crack. The room went quiet the only sounds that could be heard were Y/N's sniffles.

"Y/N-" but she walked right past him bumping into him in the process.

"I don't care about her!" he shouted following her into their bedroom.

"Oh don't lie to me Benjamin Organa Solo! I saw you two the other night, holding hands practically kissing!" she shouted back. Y/N was crying hard now. Kylo stood back like she had just slapped him.

"She means nothing to me Y/N!"

"Bullshit Ben that's bullshit and you know it!" She sank on to their defeatedly, Y/N covered her face with her hands and cried. "I don't want to do this anymore..." Kylo froze. Did she just say what he never wanted to hear from her?

"What?" he said quietly. She removed her hands from her face and answered, "I wanna go home. I miss my father. I miss him and it hurts me he will never know his grandchild."

Kylo sat beside her and hugged her, "I'm frightened" she continued "You're going down a path I can't follow Ben...don't do this...please I'm begging you. Let's go home together..."

He didn't say anything for a long time he just stroked her hair kissing her every now and then.

"But I'm so close to achieving what I've been dying to do...stay with me Y/N. Please...don't leave me. Don't go."

She loved him. She loved him with all her heart and he loved her back so in the end, how could she leave?

@dtftheavengers @angelcvsmic

[thewayofthetrashcompactor]

Rating: M Tags: Lingerie, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Retail, Corsetry Chapter: 2/4 Summary: Rey’s part-time job at Holdo’s lingerie botique is going surprisingly well. She may not be an expert, but Poe’s there to sweet-talk the customers, and it helps pay her bills. But one particular tall, dark-haired customer catches her eye while he’s looking at corsets, and she’s about to learn a whole new meaning of customer service.

Chapter 2: Ben’s fitting

read on ao3

So glad people are enjoying this! Here’s the link to the post with reference photos for the lingerie described in this chapter, for anyone who wants to see those.

Also! @alhenacrimson on twitter did some lovely art of Kylo in this chapter!! <3

@persimonne also drew Kylo in lingerie last year which is also v important

(Disclaimer: We're taking some small liberties with the retail industry and men's lingerie here purely for the purpose of getting Ben (and eventually Rey) in as much pretty underwear as possible. Pls understand the minor sacrifices in service of this important cause.)

- - - - - - - - - 

Rey willingly stays far later than she ever has before to put Ben's order together so it'll go out first thing in the morning, once Amilyn approves it. The security guards are starting to give her nasty looks by the time she finally closes the boutique behind her. She tells herself that she's just dedicated to her job. Absolutely no personal interest whatsoever in seeing the giant tree man who can fill out a corset like nobody's business again. Especially not in lingerie she's picked out for him. Completely impartial. Totally professional concern only. If she says it enough times, it'll be true, she's pretty sure.

So there's no reason for her heart to leap in her chest when Amilyn tells her that the new inventory has come in when she arrives at work a week later.

“This was for one of your customers, wasn't it?” she asks, her bangles clinking as she gestures to a box of pieces put aside by someone on the morning shift when they went through the delivery.

Rey bends and sorts through the clothing. “Yes!”

Amilyn smiles at her. “Some very nice sets there, and good variety. You did very well. It's good to see you getting involved with the customers.”

Rey colors. Entirely professional. Just helping a customer. “Thanks,” she mumbles. She does her best to walk at a normal speed to the register to call Ben.

He doesn't answer, and as a professional she is not at all disappointed. She simply leaves a message, letting him know his order is here and he can come to the store at his convenience.

She knows it's unrealistic for him to show up that evening , but that doesn't stop her from jumping every time a customer comes in. She's never been so attentive a greeter, and even the ever-chipper Poe gives her an odd look when she beats him to welcoming the third customer in a row.

She manages a more relaxed stance the next day. Ben could come in when she's off shift, or prefer to work with Poe instead of her. Which would be completely reasonable. He may be a very striking man, but she has no claim on him. He's just another customer.

And of course, once she's come to that peace towards the end of her shift, Ben comes walking through the door, looking even better than she remembers in a tight cut navy suit, hands shoved into his pockets.

She smiles brightly at him and ignores the rapid beating of her heart, the traitor. He half-smiles back at her, his lips pressing together and one side twitching upwards, then ducks his head down as he walks right to the register.

“Hey, Ben! You got my message?”

He nods. “Sorry, was hoping to get here earlier, but work always runs late.”

“It's fine! You have plenty of time.” She glances at the clock. “Well, an hour, but that should be enough. Do you want to come back to the fitting rooms with me? Or, if you want, I can get Poe, he can help you.”

He shakes his head emphatically, then glances at her and swallows noticeably. “No. I trust your judgment.” He suddenly looks at her nervously. “I mean, if that's okay with you?”

“Of course!” she says, a little too loud, and winces. She steps out from behind the counter and leads the way to the back.

She pulls out the small rack she set aside earlier where she carefully hung up each of the items she'd chosen. It's an array of delicate fabrics in shades of blue, from nearly teal to a bright royal. She'd not gotten far in her research before realizing she probably should have asked him more about his preferences, and decided to go with consistency. “I ordered everything in a similar color so we can focus more on the styles than the colors; I hope that's okay? If you want anything in a different color, we can order that in for you if our supplier has it, but we'll at least know which ones work for you.”

Ben looks at the rack she's assembled and nods. “That makes sense. I like the blue; I don't have anything in that color.” He glances down at himself. “Well, not for...underneath, I mean.”

She nods in return and they look at each other for a moment, until Rey turns away and blindly grabs for the first thing on the rack. “I thought we could start with something similar to what you'd already tried on?” She holds out a corset to him, this one in a sheer light blue, as opposed to the leather he'd bought last time.

“There's, um, underwear with it too; do you have anything to try it on with?” By his blank stare, she can tell that he doesn't. “It's okay, I can go grab a plain thong for you, just a second.” She runs out and grabs a plain white pair of men's underwear from the small pile near the register, something that'll be small and unobtrusive enough that it won't get in the way of the lingerie, but with just enough coverage that he can try everything on. She makes sure to grab one of the larger sizes.

She thrusts it at him along with the corset, and he takes them and turns for the first fitting room. The small metal bar to keep the door shut slides into place, and she looks back out into the store. Poe, very casually, passes by.

“You good?” he mouths at her with a look of concern. She gives him a quick thumbs up and he nods. She can hear Amilyn’s chiming laugh from the front of the store as she helps another customer.

It takes a couple minutes before Rey hears from Ben. The lock slides back and his face looks out at her from a crack he opens in the doorway. “Do you want to see?” he asks hesitantly.

“If you want me to!”

He considers, then pulls the door back more, keeping himself mostly behind it. She steps inside and he closes the door behind her, clearly not wanting to be seen by anyone else.

“Could you help me with the laces?” he asks, turning his back to her. One hand holds the laces tight at the base of the corset. She takes them from him with trembling hands.

He's removed all of his clothes except for his socks, and replaced them with the sheer periwinkle corset and matching panties, the tight white thong underneath. She can see his front in the full-length mirror on the side wall, the mirror just tall enough to show up to his wavy hair.

Instead of the clinging leather she caught him in yesterday, this one is made of sheer panels with the channels holding the boning showing clearly in between. The top and bottom are bound in the same satin that makes up the corded laces. The shocking paleness of his skin shows through the fabric, the soft blue setting it off nicely. The way it hugs his torso makes her want to run her hands over it, see if she can feel the warmth of his skin through it. The panties match in style, made up mostly of the sheer and bound in the satin, spanning his hips and cutting across his firm ass. The thong fits entirely under them, and she thinks she probably should have dug for an even larger size, judging by the heavy weight of him pressing against the tight fabric. She imagines what it would look like without the modesty of the additional garment, his thickness held back only by the blue sheer, every inch at once exposed and concealed. The outfit almost makes him look delicate, while still not taking any inch away from the power of his body. She rips her eyes away from his reflection in the mirror, though the view from the back isn't any less distracting, and quickly tugs the laces tight and ties them in an efficient bow.

“Good?” she asks, immediately annoyed with how breathy she sounds.

He nods. “What do you think?” He doesn't meet her eyes.

“You're beautiful.” She realizes what she said and flushes. “It's beautiful, I mean. Not that you're not, just--" Her mouth snaps shut in embarrassment. “It looks really good on you,” she finishes.

His cheeks have turned pink, but there's a hint of a soft smile at the corner of his lips. “Thank you,” he says quietly.

He turns to the side and looks at himself critically in the mirror. She watches his hands hungrily as they run down his sides along the length of the corset. The muscles in his arms flex with the motion.

“I like it,” he says finally, sounding almost surprised.

“Good. Good!” she says, nodding and smiling. “Glad we're starting on a high note.”

“How many outfits did you prepare?” he asks, turning to her with hints of laughter in the way his eyes crinkle.

“Not too many.” She waves dismissively. “And whenever you want to be done, just let me know.”

He nods in agreement. “What's next?”

She stands and opens the door just enough for her to slip through. A moment later, she passes through another hanger. “Try this.”

The pattern repeats; she waits just outside while he changes out of the old outfit into the new one. She turns when she hears the creak of the door and he lets her in. She can tell by the half-amused, half-unsure look on his face that this one probably isn't a winner. Sure enough, when she sees the full length of him, her expression matches his.

“It's a little, um …”

A bodysuit of dark blue lace goes from his shoulders to his crotch, with a deep vee at his chest. The color is rich and the lace looks soft and touchable, but the way it hangs in folds off his shoulders, the waist-deep vee, and the cut across his hips creates a weird kind of a vibe, something uncomfortably…

“Pornstar.” Ben says bluntly, giving himself a judging look in the mirror as he turns. “I look like a seventies pornstar.”

Rey winces. He's not wrong. If the fabric was more synthetic, he wouldn't look out of place on a skeevy magazine to be shoved under a teenager’s bed. His hair, while gorgeous, is not helping the impression. “A really hot one,” she offers apologetically. “I'd definitely risk a sketchy video store for your stuff.”

He laughs. “Thanks,” he says, grinning at her. “But still, maybe not quite the look I'm going for.”

It takes her a minute to recover from the full force of his smile. She can tell why he only offers awkward half ones normally. The power of the real thing is devastating.

“Fair,” she says finally, smiling back. “Something else?”

“Yes, please.”

She passes him in another bodysuit in a similar shade, but this one in mesh and straps instead. It doesn't take him long to slip out of the last one and into this one.

His expression is still unsure when he opens the door again, and she's starting to feel disappointed after their initial success. When she sees him, she has to keep herself from scrunching her features.

It's not a bad look, it's just… not well suited to him. The wide mesh of the fabric that covers his front isn't really his kind of aesthetic, and the wide bands crossing it and circling his back are oddly placed for his frame. The straight edges of the front piece make the proportions of his torso seem awkward, and she can tell he's becoming more uncomfortable the more he looks at himself in it. She immediately feels guilty for making him feel that way.

“No?” she asks gently, letting her apology show in her face.

He looks at her and shakes his head. “No.”

She nods and stands. “Just a minute, we'll get you something better.”

She feels more optimistic about the next piece she gives him, even if she's not entirely certain it'll be his style. Her heart lightens when he looks less unhappy when he invites her in again. His expression is somewhat undecided, but open.

The floral set she's given him this time suits him much better. The applique stretches from the collar around his neck to where the sheer fabric bands just above his waist, the edges of the flowers flat against his skin. The way his chest strains the fabric makes her a little insecure about her own struggle to fill out a bra, but she shoves that aside. The small panties do him plenty of favors as well, the simple straps around the sides emphasizing the jut of his hips, and the way the matching sheer with embroidered flowers in the middle struggles to contain him, even with how he's clearly adjusted himself to fit. She thinks he might be half hard with how the fabric bulges, and she blushes and quickly looks up.

“What do you think?” she asks as he considers himself, turning to the side and back again.

He cocks his head, narrowing his eyes slightly at the mirror. “I'm not sure. What do you think?”

“I like it,” she tells him honestly. “It's a good fit, and the cut really flatters you."

He nods, but doesn't look entirely convinced. He turns back and forth again. “I don't mind flowers, but I'm not sure about the embroidery.”

“Okay! But you like the shape of it?”

“Yeah. I think so.” He considers. “I think this might actually look better on you,” he says thoughtfully, then meets her eyes and blushes furiously.

Rey turns red too. Now they he mentions it, she can see herself in something like that, the flowers curling around her subtle curves. Even better is the thought of Ben seeing her in it, his eyes drinking her in, followed quickly by his hands, broad and warm over the sheer material.

“Thank you,” she stammers. She meets his eyes and wonders if he's imagining the same thing. “I have a couple more for you though.” She retreats from the room.

She's saved some of her favorites for the end, and she has a good feeling about her next option. So does he, judging from his look once he's changed. Her mouth goes dry when she sees all of him.

Lace cups the bottom half of his chest, two curved triangles supporting his pecs, the scalloped edge just covering his nipples. Straps cross over the top of his pecs above the lace, joining the ones wrapped around him. His underwear is designed similarly to the thong he has on underneath, cutting directly across, low on his hips, with the lace extending down to just cover him, exposing half of his cheeks in back. It's an incredible play of showing and hiding, the teasing edges of the lace playing at revealing the rest of his pale skin. The rest of him is left bare, his strong legs, firm stomach, and toned arms. Rey's never seen a businessman look quite so good. She wants to trace the lines of his body, trail her fingers along the lace, before finally slipping her hands underneath…

She shakes her head, trying to focus on the moment. Unfortunately, Ben sees.

“You don't like it?” he asks worriedly, looking down at himself with newly critical eyes.

“No! I do! Very much!”

He raises his eyes to meet hers. “Really?”

“Yes,” she says emphatically. “It's good. Very good.”

He twists to see a different angle. “Yeah?”

“Absolutely.” She knows she's not being very eloquent, but she's not sure how much she can say without embarrassing herself. ‘I'd really like to lick your chest’ while honest, might not go over well. It could, but she likes her job, and it's not worth the chance.

She sits, watching him, until he clears his throat. “Did you have any others?”

“Oh, yes!” She leaps up and grabs the next to last piece. The design is similar, and she's excited to see that he's still looking pleased when he opens the door again.

She hopes he doesn't expect her to give any kind of coherent evaluation of this set, because the only thing that falls out of her mouth is, “Um. Yes.”

There are straps with this one like with the last, but this is more strap and less fabric. A sheer panel covers the top of his chest, elegant curving lines running through it, covering nothing but his collarbones. Straps cut diagonally over and around his chest, dusky blue intersecting pale skin. They run around his sides, down from his chest, and up from his hips, meeting low on his stomach, just below the lines of his abs. More straps cut across the top of his thighs and down from his hips, cradling his now prominent erection between them. Another sheer panel just barely covers his modesty, from his low stomach to between his thighs. If it weren't for the thong, his ass would be left bare, framed by straps above and below. Rey can see him wearing this between her thighs, her hands braced on the patches of his skin revealed by the straps as she leans over him. She swallows.

His lips curl up in amusement. “You like it?” She nods wordlessly. He trails his fingers along the sheer collar over his chest thoughtfully. His hand drifts lower, but he looks over his shoulder at her in the mirror and drops it back to his side. He looks down at the floor as his cheeks redden. She's startled back to herself and looks away, cursing herself mentally for embarrassing him.

“I've got one more,” she says as she stands.

She absently bites her nails as she waits for him to put on the last set, then drops her hand as soon as she realizes what she's doing. The door creaks open and she turns quickly. Her eyes are as round as saucers before she's even through the door. She can't believe that she's outdone herself after the last one, but she's looking at the firm proof of it.

The last piece is mesh again, which she wasn't sure about after the earlier failure, but this redeems the material completely. The mesh only covers his pecs, from his collarbone to the line above his stomach, a medium blue with plenty of stretch to it, as evidenced by the way to struggles to contain the breadth of him. It's helped, however, by the window cut in the middle, splitting the top in half, forcing it to curve around him to meet at the top and bottom. It's practically begging for her to bury her face between it, feel the dips and lines of his chest under her lips.

The bottoms are almost an afterthought after that sight, though the way the fabric shows how it's stretched and distended by the thick and heavy shape underneath is extremely interesting. He could walk out the door in this right now and cause mass casualties right and left.

“That's...wow.”

The thought that immediately springs to her mind is him braced over her, panting and sweaty, as she nuzzles into the gap of the garment. She can practically taste the salt of his skin on her tongue.

His hands come up to cover his chest, and her own palms itch to cup it. “You don't think it looks… weird?”

She shakes her head emphatically. “Not at all. It's hot.”

He grins back at her. “I love the way you say that. Hot.” He mimics her accent and she wrinkles her nose at him playfully.

“It's true though,” she insists.

“Well, if you say so, it must be true.” He smiles at her, and she senses even with his teasing tone, he's genuine in the meaning.

“Exactly,” she says with false haughtiness, crossing her arms as she smiles.

“You do have good taste,” he admits, pulling at the waistband with his thumb.

She laughs. “Thanks, I'm glad you think so. I was worried you were going to hate everything, honestly.”

“You did a fantastic job,” he assures her.

“You ready to check out then?” she asks, even as she's loathe to have this end. There's no reason for Ben to come back after this, at least not anytime soon.

Ben hesitates. “Actually, I was thinking...I might be interested in looking at some women's options too?”

Rey's stomach drops. “I thought you said you didn't have a partner?” She tries to keep her voice light and pleasant. Not accusing. He's just a customer; it's none of her business if he wants to get lingerie for a woman.

“I don't!” he says quickly.

She furrows her brow. “Then why…?”

“Just… in case?”

“Just in case,” she repeats, looking at him in disbelief.

He nods, embarrassment spread clearly across his features. She can see the bright red tips of his ears through his hair again.

She mentally throws up her hands. Fine. Whatever he wants. “What size were you looking to have ‘just in case’?”

“Um. I was thinking possibly about your size?”

She stares at him, the shape of what he's saying very slowly start to take shape in her mind.

“What kind of styles?”

“Whatever you think is best. I trust you.” He looks at her with a great attempt at seriousness, somewhat ruined by the red of his cheeks.

She nods slowly. “And... you want someone to try them on to see how they'll look?”

He nods emphatically. “Yes. If you'd be willing, that is.”

She considers. If he wants to buy lingerie he doesn't need in order to spend more time here, she's not really against that. Not only is it more product that she'll have helped him purchase, she wants him to stay too. Ideally they could get each other's numbers and go out on a date somewhere where one of them isn't half-naked, but, well, this isn't entirely a normal situation. Once again, this probably isn't company recommended customer service methods, but she is still helping a customer. And to be honest, the fact that she's having this conversation while staring into his tit window is very possibly affecting her higher judgement.

She takes a deep breath. “Okay.” His face lights up with another of those beautiful, adorable, breathtaking smiles, and she smiles back, biting her lip. “Where do you want to start?”

Notes:

Again, here's the reference post I put together for this chapter. The findings for men's lingerie online were generally disappointing, so there's some imagination required, but hopefully it still works. (Unfortunately, given that this was originally written last year, not all of the links at the bottom of the post work, but the photos are still there and are in chronological order for the fic.)

(The disclaimer at the bottom of that post also still applies, and to expand on that: clothes are made to fit bodies, not the other way around, and whether a piece of clothing fits a person, flatters them, or makes them feel confident is a reflection on the clothing, not the person. All bodies are wonderful and deserve clothes that make them feel good <3)

[postedbygaslight]

You’ll Be the One to Turn - Part 40: The Resistance

...

Rose came to in the common room of the Falcon where she’d strapped in before the final descent began. She didn’t know exactly when she’d passed out, but it was probably when the ship jerked into a flat spin, because she couldn’t remember anything after that.

The interior of the ship was a sparking mess, and smoke was coiling out from the instrument panels near the cockpit. Whatever Ben had done bringing the ship in for a landing, it had grounded them for awhile. And right now was the worst possible time for that.

She looked around for Finn. She remembered he’d come back up from the turret, but she’d blacked out around that point. Scanning about for a second, she found him, sitting on the floor across the room, blinking awake himself.

“You okay?” she said, and he lazily turned his head toward her.

“I think?” he said, sitting forward and coughing.

The smoke was starting to be a concern, and Rose wondered if there might be a fire. She unlatched her safety harness and stumbled to her feet, crossing to the smoking panel to assess the damage.

It was about as bad as she thought. The circuits for the flight sequence had all blown. It was an easy enough fix— she knew for a fact Chewie had plenty of spares— but resetting them and making sure the program would run the thrust properly would take hours. Rose checked the datapad she’d linked to her terminal back on Vedic III and pulled up the geothermal monitor for the vent beneath them.

It wasn’t good.

“All right, let’s get moving,” Rey said, coming back from the cockpit. “How much time do we have?”

“Forty minutes?” Rose responded. “Less?”

Rey’s face didn’t betray any despair or shock, but there was something in her calm, resolute demeanor that seemed to slip a little, Rose thought.

“No time to waste, then,” she said, her voice softer, more distant. She started to turn toward the ramp controls, but Rose stopped her.

“Rey, wait,” she said. Something had been troubling her. “Ben. He said he can make the beam fire. How does he know he can do it?”

“The crystal in his saber is cracked,” Rey answered, still distracted.

“That... would give him some insight,” Rose said. “Sorry, just—“

She stopped short. Just then, Ben came from the cockpit and put his hand lightly on Rey’s back. They didn’t say anything to each other, but they exchanged a look that seemed so charged with meaning that it made Rose forget to breathe for a second. Then, without a word, Ben headed to the ramp controls, hit the release, and exited the ship.

“How bad is it?” Rey said, crossing to the panel.

Rose shook her head, snapping back to the moment. Finn had gotten up, and the six or seven others— volunteers from the base who knew how dangerous this was going to be— were now milling about, checking equipment and starting to make their way out to the hangar. Finn joined them by the panel, standing a few paces back, shifting nervously.

“Pretty bad. Six hours. Seven.”

Rey peered in at the smoky mess.

“Which means Chewie would say three hours,” she said, laughing softly. “And it would take five. But we’d have something fail mid-flight that’d need an emergency fix.”

She stepped back from the panel, sighed, and looked at each of them.

“Thank you for being here. It’s— this isn’t going to be easy.”

“Never thought for a second it would be,” Finn said, clapping a hand on her shoulder. She smiled at him, glanced over her shoulder, and started down the corridor toward the ramp.

“Finn,” Rose said once Rey was gone, “We really might not make it this time.”

He didn’t say anything. He gave her that look— the look of concern and understanding that communicated just how much he cared, and how much he felt responsible. She sniffed to keep herself from crying and grabbed his jacket with both hands.

“I love you. You know that, right?”

“I love you, too,” he said, and he was so earnest and sheepish that she thought she might literally die. “And I’m sorry I haven’t said it until now.”

She did actually cry this time, and pulled him down, and kissed him like it was the last time.

***

The sky was on fire, and Poe Dameron was rocketing through the thick of a dogfight, screeches of pursuing TIE fighters trailing behind him.

“Black Five to Black Leader,” the comm squawked at him, “The target is crawling with enemy craft. I’ve done one orbit, and I’m not sure how I’m still around to be saying this.”

“Black Five,” Poe responded, looking ahead of him to the looming orb, its dull gray durasteel contrasting sharply with the glimmering crystal of the massive lens, “there’s not really such a thing as enemy craft right now. Assume everything is hostile to everything else.”

Poe already had his throttle all the way open, but he needed more speed. Time was ticking away, and he still didn’t know how much he was going to have to hit the lens with the ion bombardment.

“BB-8, gimme some more juice, buddy.”

The droid objected with a rough screed of beeps and scratching sounds.

“Look, I know, I know. Just gimme a little more. We’re running out of time here.”

BB-8’s interface popped up on the main terminal screen, and Poe watched as the remarkable little droid somehow overclocked the thruster output another six percent.

“Atta boy, buddy, atta boy,” Poe said, a huge grin on his face. He punched the boosters and braced himself as the emitter station came hurtling toward him so fast he barely had time to throttle back and pull up. The X-Wing bottomed out to hover distance just above the broad curve of the station’s outer housing, and Poe throttled forward again, bending around the outer edge of the station toward the lens.

Coming up over the top of the orb, Poe could see the whole spread of the battle against the vast green-blue mass of Naboo. To say that there was any such thing as a First Order fleet anymore was complete nonsense. Of the twenty or so Star Destroyers that had been arranged in blockade around the emitter station, only three remained, and one of those had taken heavy fire and was listing badly toward the planet below. The battle was still raging, and at this point it seemed more like an exercise in tortured principle was playing out than any actual strategy. By this time tomorrow, there wouldn’t be a First Order.

But there also might not be a Taris. Or a Naboo. And that meant there was work left to be done.

Poe sped over the last part of the curvature of the sphere and made a sharp dive into the housing interior. The lens was crystalline and almost transparent. Once Poe entered the housing everything seemed to go ghostly quiet.

“All right, BB-8, this is it,” Poe said as he skirted the inner wall of the housing, rushing toward the surface of the lens. “Keep an eye on those readings. I’m gonna try to keep going until it’s done.”

BB-8 responded with a few apprehensive chirps, but Poe was already locked in, his jaw set, and his eyes piercing as he pulled back on the rudder and opened the throttle all the way, sending the X-Wing screaming around the outer edge of the lens. He brought the nose down slightly, tilting just enough to keep just above hover distance and started firing the ion beams.

If Poe had been the sort to have any tendency toward vertigo, the maneuver he was performing would have been fuel for nightmares. The world was tilted and dipping in and out of view, and Poe was on the outer edge of a centrifuge, spinning frantically and at tremendous speed. He was scoring confirmed impact after confirmed impact, and it was bizarre to watch the red bolts come blasting out of his cannons without some attendant explosion or other indication of damage. The lens just glittered and streamed beneath his ship, and he kept pulling the trigger.

“How we looking, buddy?”

BB-8 shot back a string of beeps and clicks.

“Four percent? After two passes? Are you sure?”

The droid confirmed. Poe did some quick math in his head. It would never work. The weapon would fire well before he’d be done.

“Okay, BB-8, listen up. I’m gonna keep doing what I’m doing. But you have got to find a way to get me more ionization per blast.”

BB-8 replied skeptically, but Poe just shook his head.

“No way, little guy,” Poe said. “This is the plan. No time for anything else. Get me more charge per shot.”

And Poe pushed the throttle harder, and pulled the trigger faster, barreling just above the cold glimmer of promised annihilation.

***

The hangar bay looked just like a hundred others Finn had been in during his life. Only this one was littered with the bodies of stormtroopers and First Order officers, and the Falcon had left a long, jagged scorch mark along the length of the black mirrored floor as it crashed and skidded to a stop. The ship itself had seen better days. It had long smoky burns streaked across its gray-white surface where it was overheated during atmospheric entry, and parts were dangling and clattering off its frame.

It was probably a miracle any of them survived at all. Though, to be fair, Finn was hardly an expert. He was, however, an expert in First Order military protocol, and this hangar had been assaulted with devilish precision. Whoever this hunter was, she knew her business, and she was going to give them all cause for panic before the end.

Ben Solo was standing by the blast doors that led to the interior of the tower. The kyber heart— the giant crystal Ben was here to manipulate into completing its firing sequence— was housed in a focusing chamber somewhere beneath them. The blast doors, which had been closed by whatever unfortunate officer had been commander of this block, had been blown open by some particularly vicious ordnance, and looked like they’d been peeled back with a tin opener.

“What should we expect?” Finn asked, coming up to stand beside him.

“Missiles. Sonic devices. She has some customized battle droids. Mostly close range melee. Flamethrowers. I’d guess, with a group, she’ll use gas.”

“Or toxins,” Finn added.

“Yeah.”

“Kind of makes me wish I had my helmet.”

“You’re not alone there,” Ben said, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “But we’re better off without them.”

“Can I ask you something? Before everything goes to Hell and we don’t know up from down?”

Ben tilted his head toward Finn, but kept looking through the gap in the blast doors.

“Why didn’t you kill me? In the forest.”

“Wasn’t trying to kill you. I was making a point.”

“Which was?”

“That I didn’t have to,” Ben said, turning back toward the small group mustering near the boarding ramp of the Falcon. “Turns out, not such a bad call.”

Then Ben turned to him and looked him in the eyes. His gaze was like magnetic ore, and his dark eyes burned with the same intensity Finn remembered seeing on Starkiller, what seemed like a lifetime ago.

“Listen,” he said, his face grim and resolute, “this hunter is smart. She’s going to see I’m wounded and she’s going to attack me first. She’ll probably keep attacking me. To get Rey to do something stupid. You told me you’d do anything for her. You meant that. When the time comes, you’ll keep her safe, right? No matter what’s happening with me.”

“What about the crystal? We need you alive.”

“I’m not worried about dying. When the hunter attacked last time, she went after Rey to draw me in. This time it’ll be the reverse. I need you to make sure she’s not missing a threat because she’s worried about me.”

Finn had to pause a moment to gather himself. Here was a man who possessed powers beyond anything Finn could imagine— a man Finn knew to have been cruel and callous and unfeeling— and he was asking for help. To protect someone he loved.

“You know, this may not be the time to say it,” he said, “but I had you all wrong.”

Ben’s expression didn’t change. Neither did his intensity.

“No, you didn’t,” he said, and went to join the others.

Finn stayed standing near the destroyed blast doors, and felt the cold air seeping from within. And somewhere, down in the depths below, that cold hid a burning center, roiling with reasonless bloodlust.

[reyleaux]

because I'm totally ridiculous and this is my new platonic crackship: 18 for Ben Solo and Rose Tico as nerd teamup forced to work together and developing A Rapport.

biTCH ME TOO, THE FUCK.

special shoutout to @futurecatladies, who I know is always down for that good good roselo content. this is technically platonic with shades of background reylo, but i think with just a minor nudge and minimal squinting one could consider it roselo instead (or even ‘also’). 

--

Rose watches him work from behind, half grateful and halfincensed.

On the one hand, they’re barreling away from the Limiter, the First Order’s newestflagship, at high speed. She’s safe – relatively – and on her way home after onlya day in a holding cell that could have easily become an eternity. Things areas good as they’ve been in at least a week, and for Rose that’s saying a lot.

But on the other, the other half of this ‘they’ is Kylo Ren,the one and only Supreme Leader of that same Order from which they’re currentlyrunning.

He opened her cell an hour ago with a serious look on hisface that said he didn’t want to think about what he was doing. She nearlypissed herself in terror but put on a brave face.

“Here to kill me?” She asked him, impressing herself withher defiance.

“Shut up,” Kylo Ren said in a low and slightly nasal voice. “Shesent me. We’re going.”

“I’m not going anywhere,”Rose spat back. “Not with you. Who sent you?”

She could see the tops of his bottom teeth as he sucked in abreath. He closed his eyes. “Rey.”

She scoffed, put off by his dramatics. “Rey sent you.”

“Don’t sound so incredulous about things you don’t understand.”

If the look on his face hadn’t convinced her of the honestyof this frankly baffling admission, his sharp and perfect recitation of herlast conversation with Rey did. It was like he’d been sitting with them in herroom, taking notes on the strange and meandering argument they had aboutrepairing the new base’s laundry equipment.

It was, in a word, unnerving.

But then again, Rose muses now, watching dumbfounded as Ren’supper half disappears into an access panel on his own personal shuttle to rip out the fusebox that powers the ship’s tracker,what about him isn’t unnerving?

“Literally everything about this is illegal!” She halfyells, half hisses.

Kylo Ren grunts as he knocks against something on his wayout of the panel. He has a sparking fusebox in one hand and a hydrospanner inthe other, slightly charred from where she assumes he used it to pry off the fusebox.

“Appropriate that now would be the time I start living up tothe name.” He sounds almost wistful.

He stands and drops the fusebox onto the nearest surface, abuilt-in bench along the wall. He towers over her, but Rose hardly notices, confusedand on-guard at his cryptic admission. “What?” She asks, chin tilted high.

“What do you care about legality, anyway? You’re a Rebel.”

“What do you mean ‘living up to the name?’”

He looks taken aback. “What do you mean, ‘What do you mean?’”

Rose wrenches the spanner from his hand and brandishes it athim. “Don’t repeat my question back at me!”

“You don’t know who I am?”

“Of course I know whoyou are, Kylo Ren.” She spits the name at him, already tired of whatever gamethis is. “You’re the worst thing that’s ever happened to the galaxy.”

“No,” he says, a little quieter. “Before that.”

Rose grits her teeth. She wants to scream. “Out with it! Wedon’t have time for a dramatic reveal right now!” There’s a following pause andshe’s about to warn him not to bother if it’ll make her hate him any more thanshe already does, when—

“Ben Solo,” Kylo Ren says, voice low, eyes lower. “That wasmy name.”

She can tell he’s expecting a gasp, the gentle cracking of aworld-altering revelation. And maybe three weeks ago – before Finn and Rey andnarrowly escaping death on Crait and the First Order beginning its incomprehensibleand rapid implosion – she would have obliged him.

But Rose Tico is different now. More skeptical, yes, but alsoless afraid.

Which might be why she reaches up to grab his chin and tiltshis face down towards her. Her eyes skim the flaring bridge of his nose, thefeline tilt to his eyes, the unruly, triangular brows. She scrunches up hernose, remembering what she can of Han Solo’s face from the holos she’s seen.

He’s surprisingly calm for someone being manhandled by anenemy, if that’s still what they are.

Fair enough, shethinks, that might as well be true, too.

“Well, Solo, putit to some kriffing use.”

She can tell that the smile he cracks is supposed to becharming – that it would have been on Han’s face, all loose and careless – and shecould have expected it to be menacing, even sad.

But what it is instead is absolutely goofy.

His cheeks wing out and he has a gap between his front andeye teeth on both sides. Even worse, he has dimples. Rose can’t help herself.Her eyes roll back.

They’re flying through First Order-controlled space in aship that is (probably) technically stolen, possibly about to do irreparabledamage to the Order and definitely goingto do irreparable damage to the (probably) stolen ship in the process. Disablingthe tracker will be absolutely necessary to making their escape through hyperspace,but the entrances and exits of the lanes are now fully monitored by the Order,meaning that they’ll be apprehended almost instantly once they emerge out ofFTL.

No matter how much Rose knows they’re doing the right thing,it doesn’t change how kriffing dangerousit is, nor how stupid.

She tells him as much.

“Son of Han Solo or not, you can’t fly a ship that’s, one, ina million pieces or, two, booted by C-Dot.”

“Then let’s not get booted.”

“Uh-uh,” Rose says, actually wagging a finger in the face ofKylo Ren, menace of the galaxy. “Let’s just boot them first.”

“It’s an expensive ship, but there aren’t torpedoes.”

“No, we can be cleverer than that.”

“We?”

“What do you know about electrical interference?”

A distant, slightly horrified look crosses his face. “Some.Biologically speaking.”

“That’s fine,” Rose says. “I know enough. What weapons do we have?”

“There’s a standard short-range IR-73 blast canon mountedunder the hull and a miniature rail gun under the cockpit,” he snaps, havingwritten enough reports on this shuttle to answer Rose’s question withoutreflection.

“Wow,” Rose says, flat and sarcastic, “I’m surprised it’snot an IR-80. And here I thought you liked your guns big.”

She turns towards the cockpit and Kylo huffs something likea laugh and follows without thinking. The IR-80 is the blast generator thatsits inside the surface cannons of a star destroyer. Mount one on a ship thissize and it’d blow you back twenty-thousand clicks every time you fired.

“That’s actually—”

“What General Hux suggested in the armaments meetingyesterday,” she finishes for him, giggling as she goes to tap her handheldsplicer into the cockpit’s consol. “I know.”

Kylo Ren tilts his head, looking for all the world like acurious dog. Rose raises her brows and jiggles the splicer in her hand, a small,satisfied smile dimpling her cheeks.

“Didn’t have a lot else to do. Thought I’d get intel, listeningin on the monitors, got a laugh instead.”

Rose ducks away to focus on her task, muttering and swearingunder her breath as she fights the override protocols coded into the ship.

“Okay, almost there.” She presses a button and swivels as ahatch opens nearby. “Grab us those PPE’s.” She points and Kylo obeys, largebody crossing the cabin’s vertical and horizontal space with little more than astretch. Rose doesn’t bemoan her stature, but she kind of wishes she could dothat.

Kylo Ren tosses her a suit and begins pulling his own on. “Theoscillator, right? From the life support block.”

“Yeah,” Rose says, pleasantly surprised by his deference toher orders. “We’ll vent the ship.”

“Then move it into the charging block of the rail gun.”

“I thought you said you didn’t know much about electricalinterference.”

“I don’t,” he says, zipping up the rubberized collar of thesuit. “But she does.”

This time Rose’s brows and lips scrunch up with her nose. “Youmean Rey again. You can say her name, you know.”

His eyes sweep down. Rose’s brain momentarily short-circuitsas she recognizes the look and color on his face. He’s…bashful? Embarrassed? Maker,she really doesn’t have time for whatever thisis.

“You know what?” She flicks a hand in front of herself, asif shooing a fly. “I’m not gonna worry about it.”

He seems relieved, nodding as he pulls on his helmet.

“For now,” she adds. Butjust try to stop me later.

Once they’re suited up, Rose presses another button and thehum of the shuttle’s engine vibrates just lower than before.

After a quick test of the suits’ comm system and asuspiciously synchronized nod, Rose initiates the depressurizing sequence andthey’re plunged into the echoey silence of the vacuum.

They work with minimal banter this time, careful to avoid jostlingthe oscillator and hooking it into the rail gun’s generator system withcareful, coordinated hands.

Rose explains in a soothing, even rhythm how the oscillatorwill charge the rail gun bolts with ionic energy. At the low-power setting she’sprogrammed into it, that will make the bolts effectively nonlethal, but perfectfor their intentions. The ionic charge will ripple through the systems of thetraffic monitoring stations and reverse the current on board for a fewmicroseconds. They’ll essentially have a small power surge, but won’t gooffline. If they time it right, they won’t even notice the shuttle at all. Ifthey time it wrong, they’ll notice the shuttle but not its missing tracker.They’ll get by on looks. It’s actually…she takes a moment to be proud ofherself. It’s actually a pretty foolproof plan.

To her surprise, Kylo Ren agrees.

What’s more, they manage to pull it off. Even in two layersof gloves and a terribly restricting helmet, Kylo is a damn good pilot,managing to target the nearest waystation within microseconds of their jump outof hyperspace. Doesn’t even use the tracking systems. Is that how the Forceworks? Rose will have to ask Rey.

Or, well, she guesses she could ask Kylo. Once this is over.

Once they’re past the scanning range of the traffic stationsand have returned the oscillator to life support, they hang around in thecockpit, PPE’s half-peeled off with the arms tied at their waists. Just in casethey have to suit up again. Kylo taps on the ship’s cloaking and spools hisbody comfortably into the co-pilot’s chair.

“Shouldn’t you be—?” Rose asks, gesturing to the otherchair.

His eyes flicker to hers in confusion, then it clicks. “Iusually don’t, uh—”

“Oh,” she says. Huh.

He stiffens, “I can—”

“No, that’s fine.”

He coughs low in his throat, looking away and running a handthrough his hair. Scrunched up like this, he actually looks capable of feelingself-conscious. Scratch that, he does look self-conscious. Rose recognizes it,feels sympathetic to it, even against her better judgment.

Things have been changing fast, recently. She’s starting togive up on fighting it anymore.

“Also, uh, ‘shut up’? Seriously?”

He shoots her an indignant look.

It doesn’t frighten her at all. And from what she can tellthrough her steely and unwavering gaze, he can tell. His face softens just alittle in response.

“It’s been…” Silence stretches out as his gaze falls out offocus, swimming through the endless mid-distance of space.

“One hell of a week,” she says, “I know.”

He leans back and kicks his feet up on the console. “Ofcourse you do.”

[coolcephalopod]

say you’ll love me again

Summary: How do you get over someone you’re still in love with?

Note: i’m back! again. last time i posted a fic, reylo wasn’t even technically canon yet but here we are now holy shit! i hope this turned out okay, i’m trying to get back into the hang of writing cause i started uni and it’s wild and i’m so busy like whatever, anyway enjoy!

AO3 is krakeneggs!

It’s eight in the morning and definitely way too early for this.

Her finger hovers awkwardly over the doorbell. She’s been standing at his door for the past 5 minutes, debating on whether to knock or call or press the doorbell. Or just leave, honestly.

Going to see her ex to pick up all her stuff from his apartment is a lot harder than she thought it would be. Especially when she’s still in love with him.

Rey bites her bottom lip nervously. She looks to her left, contemplating going back down the hallway and taking the elevator and pretending she was never here. She closes her eyes, and takes a deep breath.

The kid down the hall is screaming his head off as usual. Classical music streams from one of the other apartments, probably Mrs. Hunter. In a sad sort of way, she thinks she’s gonna miss this place.

Wiping her sweaty palms on her jeans, she knocks lightly on the door with her knuckles. There’s a tightness in her chest that threatens to crawl its way up her throat as the door stays closed. She struck with the terrible thought of throwing up on Ben as soon as he opens the door. Seconds pass, and she spins around, ready to walk away and forget she ever came here.

“Rey?”

She freezes, cursing under her breath, hating the way she feels when he says her name. He has no right to still make her feel like that. She turns around, and the sight before her makes her breath catch in her throat.

Ben looks like he just rolled out of bed. His hair is messy and unbrushed, eyes bleary and unfocused, and the only thing he’s wearing are a pair of black sweats. He looks impossibly attractive. She pushes the thought out of her mind.

“W-what are you doing here?” He clears the sleepiness from his voice, running a hand through his hair. She clenches her fist, holding back from reaching out and fixing it for him. She’s not supposed to do that anymore.

There are a billion things she wants to say.

“Sorry I woke you up.” Out of all the things she could’ve said, that came out of her mouth?

“It’s fine. Couldn’t sleep anyway.” He says, avoiding looking her in the eye and instead staring at a spot above her head.

“I, uh, came by to pick up my stuff.”

His gaze swivels down to her, staring for a few seconds, dark eyes burning into hers, before stepping aside and motioning for her to go inside.

His apartment is a mess, a major difference from its usual organized and sterile state, with half-empty soda cans and leftover cup noodles strewn everywhere. The sink is piled high with dirty dishes. A pillow and blanket left lying on the couch.

She shouldn’t judge though, her own apartment’s in the same disastrous state. She barely mustered up the energy to get out of bed this morning, after spending the night tossing and turning.

“I’ll get your stuff.” Ben says, disappearing into their—his bedroom, she corrects in her mind.

Rey supposes she can’t blame him for being cold. Who gets over a breakup in only a week? It was a tough decision to a complicated situation, and she’s not entirely sure she made the right choice. She remembers shouting and arguing and maybe she threw something, or he did. Maybe she cried, or he did, or they both did. It’s a hazy memory in her mind that she doesn’t want to think too hard about.

On the coffee table, she notices a familiar photo frame that’s supposed to be on his night stand. It’s a picture of her and Ben, when they went to the carnival and rode the Ferris wheel and it had gotten stalled right when they were at the top. It wasn’t unwelcome, as it happened right when the sun was starting to set. The picture is of the two of them smiling at the camera, cheek pressed to cheek. She remembers the sun casting a warm, sunny glow onto Ben, and how beautiful and angelic it made him look. It was the first time in their relationship that she told him she loved him. Her heart pounded in her chest, and she stumbled over her words and she wanted to jump off the ride, but (of course) she didn’t. She remembers the careful and hesitant way he said it back, and how gentle he was when he kissed her, a hand carefully cupping her cheek.

Rey looks down at the picture frame, which now has a few fresh droplets of tears sliding down the glass pane. She tries to wipe it away with her sleeve, but it slips out of her hand and falls to the ground, the glass panel shattering. She drops to her knees, cursing, and starts picking up pieces, placing them in her open palm.

“Rey?” Ben calls from the bedroom. Oh shit. He’s gonna think she did it on purpose, that she hates him, but it’s not true she’s just trying to pick up the pieces and she’s just-

She turns to see him standing in the doorway, eyes filled with concern and worry. “Your hand...” His eyes flicker down and he frowns.

She looks down and realizes that the hand that’s holding the shards of glass has curled into a tight fist, and blood is dripping down between the cracks of her fingers, splattering onto the carpet. She stares numbly at her hand, until the pain finally registers, shooting through her arm and causing her to let go of the bits of glass.

“Shit, Rey, are you okay?” Ben runs over to kneel down in front of her, taking her hand to examine. She ignores the way her skin buzzes with electricity as he touches her.

“I’m...fine.” She says lamely.

He rolls his eyes and huffs. “Come here.” He leads her to the kitchen, lifting her by the waist (with his ridiculously strong arms) and placing her on the counter. He rummages around in a cabinet for the first-aid kit, setting it down next to her when he finds it.

Methodically, he starts to disinfect and tweeze out any remaining splinters of glass that might still be embedded in her palm. He doesn’t say anything, but she can tell by the tightness in his shoulders that he seems upset about it. She wouldn’t feel as bad if he just yelled at her, or threw one of his famous temper tantrums. But the empty silence combined with the careful way he fixes her is much, much worse.

“I’m not supposed to be here, fuck, I shouldn’t have come, I’m sorry.” Rey tries to pull her hand out of his grasp, but he doesn’t let her go. She tugs and twists, but he’s still firmly holding onto her, and her hand still hurts so she doesn’t try too hard.

“Stop.” He says. She does.

He finishes wrapping the bandage around her hand, and finally looks at her. He doesn’t look angry, just sad. And that hurts her more than any physical injury ever could.

“Why are you here, Rey?” He runs a hand through his hair, letting out a deep breath.

She doesn’t respond. She’s not sure. She should just say she’s here for her stuff, so she can go home, but they both know that’s a lie. She toys with the edge of the bandage, anything to distract her.

“Rey.” He says firmly.

“I-I just wanted to say that I uh, I missed you.” She squeezes her eyes shut, cheeks burning with her confession. There, she said it. “I guess I just wanted to know if you missed me.”

A long, painful moment of silence passes, neither of them saying anything. She doesn’t look at him, doesn’t want to see the pained look in his eyes that’ll make her heart feel like it’s going to break even more.

He lets out a long sigh. “Rey...”

She feels him take a step closer to her, until he’s the closest he can be with her knees in the way.

“Look at me.” He says softly. And damn it, she can’t help but obey when he uses that gentle tone with her.

Dark eyes burn into hers as his forehead presses against hers, hands holding her face in place. His lips are slightly parted, breath hot against her lips. It’s slow, their heads tilting and leaning in. It’s so delicate, a jarring contrast to the bruising and burning intense kisses they’re used to.

“Ben.” She rasps, resisting the urge to clear her throat and break the spell.

“Please.” His voice is barely audible even in the silence of the room. She thinks she can hear his heart beating in her chest. Or maybe it’s just hers.

Her eyes close and she leans in, or maybe they both do. It’s a desperate sort of kiss, so tender and gentle and she can feel a wetness on her cheeks. She’s crying.

They kiss for an undetermined amount of time, but she knows when they both part, they’re panting for breath, faces red and wet with tears.

“I’m sorry.” Rey admits.

“I missed you.” Ben says, thumbing away a tear from the corner of her eye.

“I think...that night we both said some stupid things, and I was mad, and you were mad, and I just wanted to- no, needed to get away from all this. But all this time, I couldn’t stop thinking about you. Letting you go would be the stupidest thing I’ve ever done.” She takes his hand in hers, and looks at him hopefully. It’d be really embarrassing if he rejected her after this.

“I’m sorry too. I should have listened to what you were trying to say instead of getting mad. I love you, Rey.” He gives her hand a firm squeeze. “I don’t want to lose you over a stupid fight. I’d never forgive myself.”

“I love you too.” She leans forward to press a soft kiss to his lips.

[waypathfinder]

Crimson Lane - Chapter 22 - Deception

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Doors slammed against the backdrop of crickets and flushed storm drains. Rey looked back at the house. There was a warm glow from the windows, smoke spiralling from one of the chimneys softening the cold snap in the air with the smell of wood smoke and storms past.

Rey got into the passenger side of the Mercedes Vito, giving a weak attempt at a smile in Poe's direction before she put the window down. He wrapped his fingers over her door, ducking his head down to speak to them.

"Don't take any risks in there. We'll get Snoke, whether we have the drive or not."

Finn nodded. "We'll be careful."

"And you—" Poe tapped her on the nose, in what she would have thought was a brotherly gesture, had she ever had one. "We're on the same team. Don't forget that."

"As long as you won't."

He chuckled, stepping back to the bottom step. "Stay safe, all of you."

Dom turned the key in the ignition, and with a heavy heart, Rey watched as the homestead faded away into blackness and the long empty road stretched out ahead. There were no street lights on this section of road, and even the reflector panels were like fading stars against a rising fog that hovered eerily before them.

Dom turned on the radio, and the silence was blasted with ABBA's greatest hits.

"Oh, God, kill me now," Finn moaned from the back.

Rey cracked a smile, catching sight of her reflection in the glass, but even as she saw it, the smile slipped from her lips, her heart was beating too fast, the hairs tingling at the back of her neck. She swallowed a lump in her throat and tried to will away the churning feeling in her stomach.

What would Ben say when he came back to find her missing? Would he understand? That this was the only thing she could offer him: more than her love, more than escape, but freedom to walk away from it all.

Finn pulled a pair of earbuds from his pocket, pushing them into his ears and leaning back with his eyes closed,

"If you guys need me, just give me a poke."

Rey recognised the muffled tunes of Wizzkid playing from the back and smiled—same old Finn.

Minutes passed in relative silence until there was a flash of lights against the rear-vision mirror. The lights bounced on her side mirror and into her eyes. She squinted, trying to make out the kind of car, but it was impossible to tell, just two white eyes, in the sullen darkness.

"Fuck off," Dom hissed. A streak of light crossed his face. He lowered the mirror, but it didn't seem to do much.

Rey looked once behind them, noting how close the car appeared on their tail.

Too close.

Dom's leg shifted, and the engine revved, and the van sped up ten kilometres an hour over the speed limit, and the lights fell back a little behind them.

"I hate tailgaters, don't you?"

"Yeah," Rey said dismissively, trying to hide the way her heart hammered in her chest.

The lights flashed in her eyes again and then the car was coming at them faster than before, with no hint of stopping. Without even noticing, Rey floored at an imaginary foot pedal.

"Shit, shit, shit," Dom hissed. "What should we do?"

"I don't know!" Rey whispered back. She glanced at Finn, he was blissfully oblivious in the back seat. She'd seen far too many movies to know how this would end. "Have you got anything, weapons, a gun?"

The car swerved out from behind them until the navy wagon was alongside them. There were two young children in the back watching movies on their tablets, and a woman and man in front, their hands gesticulating wildly like they were in some kind of fight. The family overtook them, leaving a flurry of rain mist in its wake.

"Holy shit." Dom relaxed back in his seat. "I thought—"

"I know." Rey realised she'd been clutching onto her belt until her fingers were numb. "Me too."

Rey let out a shaky breath, smoothing the folds of her jeans. "So, what's our plan once we get there?"

"If you can switch the drives, I'll meet you as you come out and get the original. And then you and Finn get as far away from there as you can."

"And what will you do, give the drive to Poe?" She held her breath as she asked the question.

She knew that was what should happen — but if there was still a chance to help Ben, she would take it.

Dom looked back at Finn. He wasn't listening, still nodding his head in the back seat to the muffled tunes they could barely hear.

"I wasn't going to give it back straight away?" He glanced at Rey, as if measuring her reaction. "I can if you want me to, but I thought we could remove some files first."

Rey held her breath. "The stuff on Kylo?"

He nodded.

"Why would you do that?"

"Kylo had already tampered with the info on the drive. He'd removed all references to me on it."

"How do you know?"

"I traced a bunch of deleted messages on Lor's phone about me, and you. He was determined to help me out of there with a clean slate, and his plan was always to get you to safety. He'd booked plane tickets, accommodation, he'd even gone as far as paying your lease out."

Rey thought back to those nights Ben hadn't come to bed, when he'd been working late on his laptop, carefully hiding the details of his screen. Is this what he'd been working on, her escape plan?

"I figured it's the least I could do, you know?" Dom added, signalling to turn onto the main street heading back into town. "I know the guy's done some bad shit for the First Order, we all have, but no one deserves what Snoke has put him through."

Rey nodded, contemplating what she'd just heard. Somehow all the fear that had been coiling inside her abated a little and she felt lighter, more confident, knowing that she was making the right decision—no matter what the outcome.

They watched the world outside transfer from empty fields and acreages to the tight streets and bright lights of Coruscant. Finn took his earphones off and leant forward.

It had all come down to this. Six years of fighting the demon in her memory, six years of hiding and scrambling for a way out of this tunnel.

With each tick of the odometer, Rey's heart stopped, until they rounded the corner of Crimson Lane and pulled up before the brothel.

She stepped out on the sidewalk, slick with rain, and peered up at number 12. It sank into the night with all its black walls and cast-iron balcony. The windows were dully lit, a hue of brown blood glowed like a bruise behind the thick velvet curtains.

Finn came up beside her and the tips of his fingers brushed over hers.

Behind them, she heard cars sloshing through dirty puddles. It brought her back to the first time she had come before the door, the bright red light of the wall bleeding down onto her face, marking her.

It would be the last time she came here, and with a steadying breath, she opened the door.

"You're late." Phasma eyed Rey up and down, her words sharp and pronounced. "And you look like shit."

She didn't bite. Not tonight.

Rey walked over to the desk, running her finger along the diary of appointments.

"Is Kylo here yet?" she purred. It was a good act because even now, her insides felt like they were sliding into the centre of the Earth.

"He's not coming back." Phasma's steel-coloured eyes flicked up to a point at the corner of the room. Rey followed her gaze to a security camera watching them both. "I'm surprised you did."

Rey shrugged, dragging her finger alongside the list of names. Armitage Hux, Seth—no last name… Snoke.

She tried not to react, even though the muscles in her legs tightened like she wanted to run, and her finger was shaking, so she snatched it away, unable to speak.

That was until she saw something else.

"You booked Rose with Dathomirian Zabrek?"

Phasma shrugged. "He is a special friend of Mr Snoke's. It was the least we could do for him after Kylo beat him black and blue."

There was a loud thump upstairs and Rey flinched.

"Don't worry." Phasma bent to gather some black-leather lingerie from beneath the desk and placed it on the table. "I'm sure he will be on his best behaviour this time."

Rey struggled to hold back. The tide of anger was rushing over her like a rampage of fire. How could this woman be part of something so evil? This wasn't going to happen to Rose. Not tonight. Not ever.

"You're a cold-hearted bitch," Rey hissed at her through clenched teeth.

Phasma laughed.

Rey wanted to slap the smile off her pale face. "Go to hell!"

Rey grabbed the underwear to turn away when Phasma yanked her across the desk, so close that her hot breath seeped into Rey's ear, making her shiver.

"We're all going to hell, desert flower! Some of us are just going there sooner than others."

She let go and Rey stumbled back in shock.

As if nothing had passed, Phasma shrugged and resumed sorting through client files. "You shouldn't have come back here."

Rey stiffened, confronted with the stark reality that perhaps she'd made a mistake in coming back. Snoke was a creep and a criminal, but had she ever really known how far he would go to destroy her? A shiver trickled down Rey's spine, as she remembered the three little words Phasma had penned to them only this morning.

Don't come back.

And yet, here she was, unarmed and unprepared—without Ben for protection.

There was a creak to her right, and Snoke's office door opened an inch, seemingly by itself. Inside the light was off. She waited. But no one came out.

Thankfully.

Phasma sighed, following the line of Rey's gaze. "It's too late now. Go get changed. I'll let Hux know you are here."

Rey took the pile of black mesh underwear again and put it under her arm. As she turned to leave, she noticed that Rose had one spot free before Dathomirian's booking, just a short one, half an hour max.

She prayed that would be enough…

"There's a drunk guy out front looking for a quick one."

Phasma raised her eyebrows from her work. "Oh, yes?"

"He seemed pretty agitated. You might want to call the cops on him. I'd hate for one of the girls to run into trouble with him. I told him to go, but he refused."

Phasma picked up the phone and began dialling an inside line.

"Tico. Kit up. You've got a booking."

There was a pause and Rey breathed a sigh of relief. At least she could trust Phasma to be a nasty bitch.

"I don't care. It won't kill you to spread your legs for an extra 30."

She hung up the phone with a spiteful glare at Rey.

"Tell him to come in."

"What are you—"

Rey cut Finn off, throwing her arms around him and buried her head in his neck. "Listen to me, I need your help and we don't have much time."

Finn's strong hands wrapped around her back, pulling her close, while his lips brushed her cheek as he spoke. "Tell me what to do."

"My friend, Rose, is in there. Phasma has just booked her with a very dangerous client. I need you to get her as far away as possible!"

Finn didn't release his grip, still clinging to her. "We can help her after—"

"No!" Rey pulled back from him, searching his eyes. "It will be too late. I've booked you in with her, I need you to get her out. She has a daughter. You do whatever you have to do to get her to safety."

"I'm not leaving you."

"Yes, you are," Rey said. "Dom and I can finish the job without you. It's not up for debate. Her name is Rose Tico, she has a child, and her sister died in the Resistance bombing as a hero. Hell, see if she'll talk to the paper if you want, but get her out!"

Finn's nostrils flared as he took a large breath out.

"This is important," Rey urged one last time. "You'll understand when you meet her."

His shoulders sagged, nodding.

"I'll do what I can."

The room was new to her and unlike any of the others she had seen, and especially different from the one she had spent her night with Kylo in. The walls were covered with floor to ceiling mirrors, and at the centre, was an oval-shaped bed draped in navy satin sheets. Rey slipped her clothes off, kicking them under the bed, for lack of anywhere else to put them.

With careful precision not to rip it, she pulled on a mesh and vinyl fishnet bodice, stomach-churning as she zipped it up at the centre. Next, the panties and stockings, connected by a black suspender belt. She'd hoped for a robe at least, somewhere she could hide the drive Dom had given her, but she fixed it behind the band of her left garter.

She waited, goosebumps prickling. The room was an endless line of reflections. She met her own eyes staring back at her. The image stunned her, the lingerie left nothing to her imagination, her nipples tightened from the cold, and she didn't dare peer down between her legs and what could be seen. The whole outfit made her appear small, insecure and weak.

She touched the wall of one of the mirrors.

How far would she have to go to do this?

The thought hadn't occurred to her until now, dressed up for someone else's pleasure. Would she let him touch her as intimately as she'd let Kylo?

And could he forgive her for going this way?

She stepped back from the mirror, dropping her hand by her side.

"For Ben," she whispered to many visions of herself surrounding her in a rainbow of black and flesh.

A Tarsier. That was the first thing Rey thought of when she saw Finn as she stepped back into the lobby. Her cheeks flushed as she tried to look at anything but his bulging eyes and gaping mouth.

"Oh, shit," the words tumbled from his mouth.

"Not that one, you idiot!" Phasma snapped at him. "That one!"

Finn turned to see where Phasma was pointing. A pair of tanned feet in five-inch red heels slowly came down the stairs. Her eyes were downcast, the side of her jet-black hair carefully positioned to hide a smudge of yellow by her right eye socket. Rey rushed up to meet her and Rose stopped her slow walk down to embrace her.

"There's something going on down the hall," Rose whispered carefully. "You need to get out of here."

Rey held her tighter, pressing her lips on her cheek. "I know."

"He hasn't paid for a threesome," Phasma snapped.

"My friend Finn is down there. You're getting out of here tonight!" Rey told her seconds before she pulled away,

As they neared the last few steps, Rey noticed at once that Finn was no longer looking at her, but his line of vision was firmly centred on Rose. His hands slipped in his pockets, out, back in again, and his eyes were pointedly not trying to look below her neck.

Rose took the last step onto the landing and lifted her eyes to him. She hesitated, surprised by what she saw there.

"Err, hi," Finn said, slipping his hands back out of his pockets and wiping them on his trousers.

Rey raised her eyebrows at him as if to say, why are you acting so weird? "I'm Finn."

"Finn." Rose nodded slowly, turning around to meet Rey's face with a questioning expression and something akin to happiness. "It's good to meet you."

Rey watched them go up the stairs with a full heart. There was something in the way Rose's fingers had curled around his, and the gentle, wistful expression in Finn's face as he'd followed behind her that made her think she was giving Rose more than an escape route.

For a moment, she entertained the stray thought that there could be something between them one day. That spark of curiosity, desire and attraction, perhaps one day turning into something so much more.

She had almost relaxed a little when she felt the sudden nerve-tingling feeling of being watched. Rey turned around to see a pale face, pointed nose, and bright ginger hair slicked back with gel, and a pair of blue eyes narrowed and taking in every curve and line of her body.

He didn't even try to hide his excitement as he spoke to her with a sneer.

"Now, it's my turn."

In the room of mirrors, Rey sat with her legs crossed upon the oval bed. The lighting was dim, making the mirrors and her reflection shaded with gold, the navy bed vast enough to be lost in. Hand on knees, she jiggled her leg distractedly. Armitage Hux had not undressed or done anything apart from staring down at her.

Rey slipped a curl behind her ear, and Hux dipped his head to the side, admiring her from another angle.

It was infuriating, sitting here, waiting for his instructions and Hux was in no rush.

Part of her had hoped that she may have found Ben here. That knowing she was about to be locked in a room with this red-headed pyromaniac would be enough for him to carry her away and they could escape together, travel the world, and not look back.

But that was not why she was here...

Rey levelled her eyes at his crotch, noting the way the material fell on both sides, uneven. The smallest hint of something in his left pocket.

"Like what you see?"

She smirked. "How couldn't I?"

It wasn't a lie.

Armitage shifted his hips forward and backwards, rolling on the balls of his feet, keeping his hands in his pockets.

"You want to taste it, don't you, Rey?"

She cringed at the sound of her name on his lips, and the intimate way it fell suggestively into the air.

"I can think of other things I'd prefer to do with it." She flashed her eyes up at him again.

Hux met her gaze with a smug look of satisfaction. He reached his fingers out to her temple, brushing them lightly, a soft smile on his lips.

"Oh, I can tell you are a naughty girl, aren't you?"

Rey bristled, swallowing a lump in her throat.

"Very naughty." It was the most demure voice she could have managed. "Sometimes." She slid her hands out to his hips, tracing circles from his thigh to his waist, slipping her fingers into his pockets.

His eyes widened, and he tried to pull back in alarm, but she yanked him forward by his pockets, as hard as she could, bringing his crouch before her face. "Sometimes…" She clutched the top of his zipper fastener with her teeth, as she dipped her fingers down, brushing the hard tip of what lay inside. She dragged the zipper down with her mouth, releasing the package beyond, sticking out at her. "I can't seem to help myself."

Armitage parted his legs, and Rey tried to look away from the pink-headed snake sticking out at her. Long and urgent fingers clasped around her own and his breathing came in heavy groans.

"Tell me I'm bigger than him."

Rey blinked.

"What?"

"Tell me I'm bigger than Ren."

She ducked her head down, hiding her smile, but he pulled her chin up to meet his gaze.

"I've heard he's a terrible lover," he said, almost consolatory. "Unsatisfying." He huffed, stifling a snigger. "Not surprising, considering."

Rey could do little else but peer up at his nasal hairs, mouth agape, until he squeezed her jaw together. "I can't hear you."

"He is no Armitage Hux," she purred. "That much—" she made a purposeful glance below his belt—"is clear."

Armitage straightened, sniffing proudly as his nose hairs shivered.

"But, words are all very well…" Rey crawled back onto the bed, parting her legs and arching her back. "Why don't you show me instead?"

Hux released a muffled gasp and the next minute he had thrown himself on top of her, attacking her with kisses, nipping her jaw, and licking along her collar bone.

Rey stared down at her reflection in the ceiling mirror, hair askew and face flushed. When his spindly finger slid inside her panties to pull them down, she slapped his hand away.

"No, me first!" She moved quickly, hands searching for the drive. In the rush of panting breaths and hurried hands, she slid her right hand behind her thigh and took the drive. Her urgent fingers replacing the one in his pocket under the guise of rubbing her hand along him. Hux groaned as she touched him, sucking on his neck with hungry, blood-thirsty bites.

If he had noticed at all, he didn't show it.

She gazed up at the girl in the mirror, ignoring the way Armitage's appendage stroked hard against her, hot and seeking.

Now, how to get the hell out of here?

She should have thought this through.

He began clawing at her underwear, his nails scraping against her skin, trying to rip the fine mesh to pieces.

"Slow down," Rey hissed at him. She wrapped her hands behind her back, trying to steady his fingers.

Seizing the opportunity, Armitage clamped her wrists behind her back and sneered. "Yes, I like this."

Rey jolted as he nipped her on the neck, sinking his teeth into her skin. There was a brief knock at the door, and he turned away, peering at the mirrored door like he'd just stepped in dog shit.

"Piss off. This room is taken."

"Snoke sent me to say your time is up."

Relief flooded through Rey as she recognised Dom's voice on the other side of the door.

"My time is up when I say it is!" Hux covered her mouth, spit showering her face as he spoke. "We need to be quick—"

There was a crunch, and Rey felt the moment her knee impacted his groin with a rumbling groan. Hux's eyelids fluttered as he rolled off her, clutching his balls like she'd stabbed them, keeling over in a fetal position. She did feel a little guilty, considering the lime-complexion that came over his face as he moved his lips in broken, breathy curses, but still —

"I'm sorry about this." She jumped on top of him, locking her legs around his waist in a vice-like grip as she smashed the base of her palm just under his nose. The move was sharp enough to pinch the nerves of his upper spinal column and Armitage's head snapped back and he blacked out.

Rey just stared at his limp body in the silence. Only now she realised how hard her heart had been thumping, how the blood was coursing through her veins, the way her pulse points beat like drums in her neck, wrist, she could even feel them bounding behind her knees.

Every part of her was on high-alert.

With rapid, frenetic movements, she pulled the drive out from her garter belt.

Had it been that easy?

There was another hurried knock at the door, jolting Rey back to her senses, and with a leap, she dashed across the room and opened the door.

"Hey!" she breathed.

Dom raised his eyebrows. "Hi… did you get it?"

"Yes!" She pulled the drive out, pushing it into his outstretched hand. "Don't forget our deal, okay? Clear everything on Kylo?"

He nodded. "I'll do it straight away. My equipment's in the van. Are you coming?"

Rey looked back at the limp body of Armitage splayed across the mattress and back out to the corridor. "I'll meet you out there, I'll just check that Rose and Finn made it out."

Dom nodded. "Sure, don't be long."

Rey didn't waste any time. Grabbing her clothes from beneath the bed, she shoved them under her arm and darted out of the room.

Raising her chin high, she strode out into the main foyer, praying to God that Phasma wasn't there to ask her what she was doing.

The main entryway of Crimson Lane was gloomy and cold, sticks of incense had burnt into discarded ashes in the waiting area, and Phasma's desk was clear of papers with the lamp switched off.

Strange...

She continued, shooting a side-glance at the door to Snoke's office.

It was open.

Her body went rigid.

A pair of blue eyes glistened at her from the darkness beyond, standing just back from the door crack, watching...

Smiling. The expression of someone who had caught his kill.

Every bone in her body turned to liquid, and the hair at the back of her neck stood on end.

What the fuck was she going to do?

Run!

A voice screamed in her mind, filling her up from the tips of her toes to the top of her head. That silent, urging voice that had carried her through life, a rock-solid instinct that had been sharpened on the streets of Jakku.

But if she could just get to Finn and Rose, then she would have help. It would be three against one.

And if they weren't there...

She bolted up the steps, her bare feet thumping on every creaking level. There were no rushed footsteps behind her, no blood-chilling jibes to accompany her on her way.

Just… silence.

She reached the top of the stairs and almost bowled straight into a tall, blonde-haired man with azure-coloured eyes and thick pink lips. He was startlingly attractive, with perfectly combed hair in a style that was too old-fashioned for someone who looked barely ten years older than her.

She tried to push past him, but his lips parted, exposing dazzling teeth, and she smelled peroxide and disinfectant filling her nostrils.

"Hi," he said.

Rey squinted, confused for a moment before his fist slammed into the side of her face. Her body flew backwards. She couldn't even scream.

The ground rushed up to meet her and there was another kick. It landed her square on the floor, peering up at the hanging light and smoke alarm flashing on standby above her.

"Hold her down!" Phasma's voice hissed and an iron-like clamp pushed down on each of her arms.

There was a shadow towering over her, tall, and nimble. She couldn't see his face properly as she was still seeing stars, shooting through her eyesight like dozens of flares.

She knew it was Snoke. It had to be.

A foot stepped onto her stomach and she would have cried out, except someone clamped a hand around her mouth and a black band over her eyes.

The last thing she heard was Snoke's voice issuing a command that sent cold-blooded chills down every vein in her body.

"Bring her."

[thewayofthetrashcompactor]

rated best in customer satisfaction: part II

For @lingeriewarsweek Day 3: Ocean blue see-through (yes I’m late again but this time I’m blaming tumblr mobile)

Rating: M Words: 3.7k

[Part I | Epilogue ] [Lingerie reference photos]

Rey willingly stays far later than she ever has before to put Ben's order together so it'll go out first thing in the morning, once Amilyn approves it. The security guards are starting to give her nasty looks by the time she finally closes the boutique behind her. She tells herself that she's just dedicated to her job. Absolutely no personal interest whatsoever in seeing the giant tree man who can fill out a corset like nobody's business again. Especially not in lingerie she's picked out for him. Completely impartial. Totally professional concern only. If she says it enough times, it'll be true, she's pretty sure.

So there's no reason for her heart to leap in her chest when Amilyn tells her that the new inventory has come in when she arrives at work a week later.

“This was for one of your customers, wasn't it?” she asks, her bangles clinking as she gestures to a box of pieces put aside by someone on the morning shift when they went through the delivery.

Rey bends and sorts through the clothing. “Yes!”

Amilyn smiles at her. “Some very nice sets there, and good variety. You did very well. It's good to see you getting involved with the customers.”

Rey colors. Entirely professional. Just helping a customer. “Thanks,” she mumbles. She does her best to walk at a normal speed to the register to call Ben.

He doesn't answer, and as a professional she is not at all disappointed. She simply leaves a message, letting him know his order is here and he can come to the store at his convenience.

She knows it's unrealistic for him to show up that evening , but that doesn't stop her from jumping every time a customer comes in. She's never been so attentive a greeter, and even the ever-chipper Poe gives her an odd look when she beats him to welcoming the third customer in a row.

She manages a more relaxed stance the next day. Ben could come in when she's off shift, or prefer to work with Poe instead of her. Which would be completely reasonable. He may be a very striking man, but she has no claim on him. He's just another customer.

And of course, once she's come to that peace towards the end of her shift, Ben comes walking through the door, looking even better than she remembers in a tight cut navy suit, hands shoved into his pockets.

(cont. under cut)

She smiles brightly at him and ignores the rapid beating of her heart, the traitor. He half-smiles back at her, his lips pressing together and one side twitching upwards, then ducks his head down as he walks right to the register.

“Hey, Ben! You got my message?”

He nods. “Sorry, was hoping to get her earlier but work always runs late.”

“It's fine! You have plenty of time.” She glances at the clock. “Well, an hour, but that should be enough. Do you want to come back to the fitting rooms with me? Or, if you want, I can get Poe, he can help you.”

He shakes his head emphatically, then glances at her and swallows noticeably. “No. I trust your judgment.” He suddenly looks at her nervously. “I mean, if that's okay with you?”

“Of course!” she says, a little too loud, and winces. She steps out from behind the counter and leads the way to the back.

She pulls out the small rack she set aside earlier where she carefully hung up each of the items she'd chosen. It's an array of delicate fabrics in shades of blue, from nearly teal to a bright royal. She'd not gotten far in her research before realizing she probably should have asked him more about his preferences, and decided to go with consistency. “I ordered everything in a similar color so we can focus more on the styles than the colors; I hope that's okay? If you want anything in a different color, we can order that in for you if our supplier has it, but we'll at least know which ones work for you.”

Ben looks at the rack she's assembled and nods. “That makes sense. I like the blue; I don't have anything in that color.” He glances down at himself.  “Well, not for...underneath, I mean.”

She nods in return and they look at each other for a moment, until Rey turns away and blindly grabs for the first thing on the rack. “I thought we could start with something similar to what you'd already tried on?” She holds out a corset to him, this one in a sheer light blue, as opposed to the leather he'd bought last time.

“There's, um, underwear with it too; do you have anything to try it on with?” By his blank stare, she can tell that he doesn't. “It's okay, I can go grab a plain thong for you, just a second.” She runs out and grabs a plain white pair of men's underwear from the small pile near the register, something that'll be small and unobtrusive enough that it won't get in the way of the lingerie, but with just enough coverage that he can try everything on. She makes sure to grab one of the larger sizes.

She thrusts it at him along with the corset, and he takes them and turns for the first fitting room. She hears the metal bar to keep the door shut slide into place, and she looks back out into the store. Poe, very casually, passes by.

“You good?” he mouths at her with a look of concern. She gives him a quick thumbs up and he nods. She can hear Amilyn’s chiming laugh from the front of the store as she helps another customer.

It takes a couple minutes before Rey hears from Ben. The lock slides back and his face looks out at her from a crack he opens in the doorway. “Do you want to see?” he asks hesitantly.

“If you want me to!”

He considers, then pulls the door back more, keeping himself mostly behind it. She steps inside and he closes the door behind her, clearly not wanting to be seen by anyone else.

“Could you help me with the laces?” he asks, turning his back to her. One hand holds the laces tight at the base of the corset. She takes them from him with trembling hands.

He's removed all of his clothes except for his socks, and replaced them with the sheer periwinkle corset and matching panties, the tight white thong underneath. She can see his front in the full-length mirror on the side wall, the room just wide enough for the mirror to show up to his wavy hair.

Instead of the clinging leather she caught him in yesterday, this one is made of sheer panels with the channels holding the boning showing clearly in between. The top and bottom are bound in the same satin that makes up the corded laces. The shocking paleness of his skin shows through the fabric, the soft blue setting it off nicely. The way it hugs his torso makes her want to run her hands over it, see if she can feel the warmth of his skin through it. The panties match in style, made up mostly of the sheer and bound in the satin, spanning his hips and cutting across his firm ass. The thong fits entirely under them, and she thinks she probably should have grabbed him the larger size, judging by the heavy weight of him pressing against the tight fabric. She imagines what it would look like without the modesty of the additional garment, his thickness held back only by the blue sheer, every inch at once exposed and concealed. The outfit almost makes him look delicate, while still not taking any inch away from the power of his body. She rips her eyes away from his reflection in the mirror, though the view from the back isn't any less distracting, and quickly tugs the laces tight and ties them in an efficient bow.

“Good?” she asks, immediately annoyed with how breathy she sounds.

He nods. “What do you think?” He doesn't meet her eyes.

“You're beautiful.” She realizes what she said and flushes. “It's beautiful, I mean. Not that you're not, just-" Her mouth snaps shut in embarrassment. “It looks really good on you,” she says finally.

His cheeks have turned pink, but there's a hint of a soft smile at the corner of his lips. “Thank you,” he says quietly.

He turns to the side and looks at himself critically in the mirror. She watches his hands hungrily as they run down his sides along the length of the corset. The muscles in his arms flex with the motion.

“I like it,” he says finally, sounding almost surprised.

“Good. Good!” she says, nodding and smiling. “Glad we're starting on a high note.”

“How many outfits did you prepare?” he asks, turning to her with hints of laughter in the way his eyes crinkle.

“Not too many.” She waves dismissively. “And whenever you want to be done, just let me know.”

He nods in agreement. “What's next?”

She stands and opens the door just enough for her to slip through. A moment later, she passes through another hanger. “Try this.”

The pattern repeats; she waits just outside while he changes out of the old outfit into the new one. She turns when she hears the creak of the door and he lets her in. She can tell by the half-amused, half-unsure look on his face that this one probably isn't a winner. Sure enough, when she sees the full length of him, her expression matches his.

“It's a little, um …”

A bodysuit of dark blue lace goes from his shoulders to his crotch, with a deep vee at his chest. The color is rich and the lace looks soft and touchable, but the way it hangs in folds off his shoulders, the waist-deep vee, and the cut across his hips creates a weird kind of a vibe, something uncomfortably…

“Pornstar.” Ben says bluntly, giving himself a judging look in the mirror as he turns. “I look like a seventies pornstar.”

Rey winces. He's not wrong. If the fabric was more synthetic, he wouldn't look out of place on a skeevy magazine to be shoved under a teenager’s bed. His hair, while gorgeous, is not helping the impression. “A really hot one,” she offers apologetically. “I'd definitely risk a sketchy video store for your stuff.”

He laughs. “Thanks,” he says, grinning at her. “But still, maybe not quite the look I'm going for.”

It takes her a minute to recover from the full force of his smile. She can tell why he only offers awkward half ones normally. The power of the real thing is devastating.

“Fair,” she says finally, smiling back. “Something else?”

“Yes, please.”

She passes him in another bodysuit in a similar shade, but this one in mesh and straps instead. It doesn't take him long to slip out of the last one and into this one.

His expression is still unsure when he opens the door again, and she's starting to feel disappointed after their initial success. When she sees him, she has to keep herself from scrunching her features.

It's not a bad look, it's just… not well suited to him. The wide mesh of the fabric that covers his front isn't really his kind of aesthetic, and the wide bands crossing it and circling his back are oddly placed for his frame. The straight edges of the front piece make the proportions of his torso seem awkward, and she can tell he's becoming more uncomfortable the more he looks at himself in it. She immediately feels guilty for making him feel that way.

“No?” she asks gently, letting her apology show in her face.

He looks at her and shakes his head. “No.”

She nods and stands. “Just a minute, we'll get you something better.”

She feels more optimistic about the next piece she gives him, even if she's not entirely certain it'll be his style. Her heart lightens when he looks less unhappy when he invites her in again. His expression is somewhat undecided, but open.

The floral set she's given him this time suits him much better. The applique stretches from the collar around his neck to where the sheer fabric bands just above his waist, the edges of the flowers flat against his skin. The way his chest strains the fabric makes her a little insecure about her own struggle to fill out a bra, but she shoves that aside. The small panties do him plenty of favors as well, the simple straps around the sides emphasizing the jut of his hips, and the way the matching sheer with embroidered flowers in the middle struggles to contain him, even with how he's clearly adjusted himself to fit. She thinks he might be half hard with how the fabric bulges, and she blushes and quickly looks up.

“What do you think?” she asks as he considers himself, turning to the side and back again.

He cocks his head, narrowing his eyes slightly at the mirror. “I'm not sure. What do you think?”

“I like it,” she tells him honestly. “It's a good fit, and the cut really flatters you."

He nods, but doesn't look entirely convinced. He turns back and forth again. “I don't mind flowers, but I'm not sure about the embroidery.”

“Okay! But you like the shape of it?”

“Yeah. I think so.” He considers. “I think this might actually look better on you,” he says thoughtfully, then meets her eyes and blushes furiously.

Rey turns red too. Now they he mentions it, she can see herself in something like that, the flowers curling around her subtle curves. Even better is the thought of Ben seeing her in it, his eyes drinking her in, followed quickly by his hands, broad and warm over the sheer material.

“Thank you,” she stammers. She meets his eyes and wonders if he's imagining the same thing. “I have a couple more for you though.” She retreats from the room.

She's saved some of her favorites for the end, and she has a good feeling about her next option. So does he, judging from his look once he's changed. Her mouth goes dry when she sees all of him.

Lace cups the bottom half of his chest, two curved triangles supporting his pecs, the scalloped edge just covering his nipples. Straps cross over the top of his pecs above the lace, joining the ones wrapped around him. His underwear is designed similarly to the thong he has on underneath, cutting directly across, low on his hips, with the lace extending down to just cover him, exposing half of his cheeks in back. It's an incredible play of showing and hiding, the teasing edges of the lace playing at revealing the rest of his pale skin. The rest of him is left bare, his strong legs, firm stomach, and toned arms. Rey's never seen a businessman look quite so good. She wants to trace the lines of his body, trail her fingers along the lace, before finally slipping her hands underneath…

She shakes her head, trying to focus on the moment. Unfortunately, Ben sees.

“You don't like it?” he asks worriedly, looking down at himself with newly critical eyes.

“No! I do! Very much!”

He raises his eyes time meet hers. “Really?”

“Yes,” she says emphatically. “It's good. Very good.”

He twists to see a different angle. “Yeah?”

“Absolutely.” She knows she's not being very eloquent, but she's not sure how much she can say without embarrassing herself. ‘I'd really like to lick your chest’ while honest, might not go over well. It could, but she liked her job, and it wasn't worth the chance.

She sits, watching him, until he clears his throat. “Did you have any others?”

“Oh, yes!” She leaps up and grabs the next to last piece. The design is similar, and she's excited to see that he's still looking pleased when he opens the door again.

She hopes he doesn't expect her to give any kind of coherent evaluation of this set, because the only thing that falls out if her mouth is, “Um. Yes.”

There are straps with this one like with the last, but this is more strap and less fabric. A sheer panel covers the top of his chest, elegant curving lines running through it, covering nothing but his collarbones. Straps cut diagonally over and around his chest, dusky blue intersecting pale skin. They run around his sides, down from his chest, and up from his hips, meeting low on his stomach, just below the lines of his abs. More straps cut across the top of his thighs and down from his hips, cradling his now prominent erection between them. Another sheer panel just barely covers his modesty, from his low stomach to between his thighs. If it weren't for the thong, his ass would be left bare, framed by straps above and below. Rey can see him in this between her thighs, her hands braced on the patches of his skin revealed by the straps as she leans over him. She swallows.

His lips curl up in amusement. “You like it?” She nods wordlessly. He trails his fingers along the sheer collar over his chest thoughtfully. His hand drifts lower, but he looks over his shoulder at her in the mirror and drops it back to his side.  He looks down at the floor as his cheeks redden. She's startled back to herself and looks away, cursing herself mentally for embarrassing him.

“I've got one more,” she says as she stands.

She absently bites her nails as she waits for him to put on the last set, then drops her hand as soon as she realizes what she's doing. The door creaks open and she turns quickly. Her eyes are as round as saucers before she's even through the door. She can't believe that she's outdone herself after the last one, but she's looking at the firm proof of it.

The last piece is mesh again, which she wasn't sure about after the earlier failure, but this redeems the material completely. The mesh only covers his pecs, from his collarbone to the line above his stomach, a medium blue with plenty of stretch to it, as evidenced by the way to struggles to contain the breadth of him. It's helped, however, by the window cut in the middle, splitting the top in half, forcing it to curve around him to meet at the top and bottom. It's practically begging for her to bury her face between it, feel the dips and lines of his chest under her lips.

The bottoms are almost an afterthought after that sight, though the way the fabric shows how it's stretched and distended by the thick and heavy shape underneath is extremely interesting. He could walk out the door in this right now and cause mass casualties right and left.

“That's...wow.”

The thought that immediately springs to her mind is him braced over her, panting and sweaty, as she nuzzles into the gap of the garment. She can practically taste the salt of his skin on her tongue.

His hands come up to cover his chest, and her own palms itch to cup it. “You don't think it looks… weird?”

She shakes her head emphatically. “Not at all. It's hot.”

He grins back at her. “I love the way you say that. Hot.” He mimics her accent and she wrinkles her nose at him playfully.

“It's true though,” she insists.

“Well, if you say so, it must be true.” He smiles at her, and she senses even with his teasing tone, he's genuine in the meaning.

“Exactly,” she says with false haughtiness, crossing her arms as she smiles.

“You do have good taste,” he admits, pulling at the waistband with his thumb.

She laughs. “Thanks, I'm glad you think so. I was worried you were going to hate everything, honestly.”

“You did a fantastic job,” he assures her.

“You ready to check out then?” she asks, even as she's loathe to have this end. There's no reason for Ben to come back after this, at least not anytime soon.

Ben hesitates. “Actually, I was thinking...I might be interested in looking at some women's options too?”

Rey's stomach drops. “I thought you said you didn't have a partner?” She tries to keep her voice light and pleasant. Not accusing. He's just a customer; it's none of her business if he wants to get lingerie for a woman.

“I don't!” he says quickly.

She furrows her brow. “Then why…?”

“Just… in case?”

“Just in case,” she repeats, looking at him in disbelief.

He nods, embarrassment spread clearly across his features. She can see the bright red tips of his ears through his hair again.

She mentally throws up her hands. Fine, whatever he wants. “What size were you looking to have ‘just in case’?”

“Um. I was thinking possibly about your size?”

She stares at him, the shape of what he's saying very slowly start to take shape in her mind.

“What kind of styles?”

“Whatever you think is best. I trust you.” He looks at her with a great attempt at seriousness, somewhat ruined by the red of his cheeks.

She nods slowly. “And... you want someone to try them on to see how they'll look?”

He nods emphatically. “Yes. If you'd be willing, that is.”

She considers. If he wants to buy lingerie he doesn't need in order to spend more time here, she's not really against that. Not only is it more product that she'll have helped him purchase, she's wants him to stay too. Ideally they could get each other's numbers and go out on a date somewhere where one of then isn't half-naked, but, well, this isn't entirely a normal situation. Once again, this probably isn't company recommended customer service methods, but she is still helping a customer. And to be honest, the fact that she's having this conversation while staring into his tit window is very possibly affecting her higher judgement.

She takes a deep breath. “Okay.” His face lights up with another of those beautiful, adorable, breathtaking smiles, and she smiles back, biting her lip. “Where do you want to start?”