capuletangel - Tumblr blog

capuletangel · 2 years

Text

Like Phantoms, Forever

Chapter Thirteen | The Dead of Night

Pairing: Ben Solo x Reader

Summary: Your destiny had never been clear to you, only becoming so when it led you to leaving behind the life you knew to train with the galaxy's sole Jedi Master, Luke Skywalker. His Jedi Academy became your new home, bringing with it the promise of someday becoming a Jedi Knight. While navigating the ways of the Force, an inexplicable connection forms between you and a fellow student—the heir to the legendary Skywalker bloodline, Ben Solo. Together, the two of you must face your destinies and forge the path to your true selves.

What to expect: fluff, violence, sexual content, general angst, mentions/descriptions of injury and death

Additional info: this story is set in 28 ABY, six years prior to the events of TFA

*concurrently being published on AO3 and Wattpad as well!

Masterlist

Spotify Playlist

Word count: 5.6k

Chapter-specific CW: descriptions of injury, needles, sleep paralysis

A/N: I apologize for the wait on this chapter, I've been tweaking things for the last week and it's finally ready!!!

───────── ⋆ ☆ ⋆ ─────────

Pew!

“Ow—shit!” you hissed, clasping your upper arm and applying pressure to the searing pain left behind by an unblocked laser beam.

The Academy remote droids were programmed to fire at the trainee—which wasn’t an issue the majority of the time—but at the moment, you were completely burned out from the full day of training. This was the sixth day of nonstop training, and its toll was starting to weigh on your body. Your muscles ached and your sleep was nearly nonexistent—and when you did manage to get some, it was fleeting and restless.

As if losing sleep wasn’t enough, you had also been struggling to connect with the Force as of late. Actually, to say that you were struggling would be putting it lightly—you were completely detached from it. The effects of exhaustion were widespread and unable to be ignored any longer, but after only a few months at the Academy, you didn’t feel prepared for the journey ahead of you.

You ripped the blinder off your face and scanned the clearing for the droid, hoping to locate it before another beam could hit you.

Pew, pew!

Two more bright blasts from the droid, both missing you by mere centimeters.

You spun in the direction of the attacks, releasing a hand from gripping your lightsaber to extend it towards the droid in an attempt to disable it. Despite your effort, the droid shot off another blast, this time landing just above the prior hit and slicing deeper through your skin.

Somehow, the pain left behind by its hit was not a hindrance, almost serving as entirely the opposite. As the pain spread down your arm and up your neck, the edges of your vision blurred as the image at the center became acutely focused.

In a moment of blind rage and irrational thinking, you sliced through the remote droid, sending it falling to the forest floor with a thud.

You stepped to stand above it, clutching the hilt of your saber with white knuckles. How the fuck are you going to explain this? you thought as you watched sparks pop from the severed wiring within its broken frame. Then again, what was stopping you from kicking it into the dense foliage and hoping that nobody would find it?

Against your better judgment, you nudged the busted droid out of the path and into the coverage of a billowing fern.

The two wounds in your upper arm demanded your attention. Fortunately, they weren’t bleeding. The lasers had cauterized the tissue as they tore through the skin, leaving behind two dry, pink gashes.

Tentatively, you tapped the inflamed edges of the wounds, each knock of your fingertips unsurprisingly sending pain shooting down your arm. As much as you didn’t want to do it, making a stop at the infirmary would probably be wise. Adding an infection to the list of problems you were dealing with was the last thing you needed right now.

Dusk had fallen over the Academy in the time that you had been out in the forest, shrouding the path back to the buildings in a dim, hazy light. Despite winter’s growing presence, the forest was alive with energy. The distant sound of twigs snapping underfoot of critters ricocheted off of the barren trees, reaching you at the tree line as you left the coverage of the woods.

The air felt heavy, despite the arid winter weather. The twin suns had begun abandoning their positions earlier in the evening, shrouding the campus in darkness before dinner had even been served. You hated the early days, impatiently waiting for the long, vibrant spring days to come once more.

Suddenly, the muscles in your calf tightened, stopping you in your path as you reached down to massage the muscle before it could turn into a cramp. Obviously, hydration wasn’t one of your top priorities today.

Ben had spent the past few days gathering supplies and running diagnostics on the Grimtaash, ensuring that the ship was ready to make the trip across the stars. His enthusiasm was big enough for the both of you, stating on multiple occasions just how excited he was to show you around the snowy terrain of Ilum. To him, this trip was a vacation, but it was anything but that for you. Not to say that you weren’t excited to travel off-world with him, of course you were. In fact, knowing that he would be there with you was the only thing keeping your fear at bay.

Before long, you found yourself standing in front of the infirmary entrance, hesitantly turning the knob on the door.

Spotless, white marble flooring greeted you, reflecting the harsh overhead lights and blinding your unadjusted eyes. The room smelled strongly of cleaning products, which should have been assuring—to know that everything was disinfected, but only made you feel more uneasy. Several machines beeped quietly, each one chirping out of sync with one another.

In the corner stood the singular, chrome medical droid that made up the entire infirmary staff. 4-3B had evidently been preoccupied before you arrived, turning to face you with several vials and syringes in his metal grasp. The rows of products behind him were organized neatly by color and size. The monotony of the task would drive you insane, but you supposed that droids were immune to such human flaws.

“Good evening,” it said, identifying you by name. “I am 4-3B, specialized in medical and surgical operations. How may I be of service?” The droid gestured for you to sit atop the examination table beside it, rolling a data screen in front of the bed in preparation for you.

Either 4-3B’s programming required that it offered an introduction before each encounter, or it didn’t remember you from last week. Regardless, you walked over to the examination table and hopped up onto the stiff paper.

The thick fabric of your robes scraped your wounds as you pulled your arm out of your sleeve, revealing the extent of the damage done by the remote droid.

“Uh, well, I have a couple of nicks from a remote droid and just wanted to get them cleaned,” you said, nodding down to your affected arm as if the droid couldn’t see the wounds for itself.

4-3B inspected your arm, its triangular yellow eyes probing you as you spoke. Another twinge in your leg muscles reminded you of your other condition. “And could I maybe get something for dehydration, too?”

The silver droid moved away from you, turning its attention to the data screen in front of the exam table, flipping through options and pop-ups impossibly fast.

“I can address these concerns, yes. It seems as though you have two superficial lacerations on your right upper extremity, both with what appears to be partial thickness burns. I will clean them properly and suture them closed.”

Stitches? Is that really necessary? A shiver ran down your spine as you looked at your injuries, suddenly all too aware of the extent of the damage done to your skin.

“Thank you, Threebee.” You offered the droid a weak, appreciative smile, receiving an empty stare in return.

“After I have completed my assessment and dressed your wounds, I will bring you a bottle of Hydralyte,” 4-3B said as it unraveled the cords to the vitals monitor, wrapping a cuff around your non-injured arm and clamping a pulse oximeter on your finger.

The cuff began to inflate, squeezing your arm tightly until you could feel your pulse throbbing against it. As it slowly deflated, 4-3B ran a thermometer across your forehead until a temperature value appeared on the screen.

After the confirmation that you were indeed alive and had a pulse, the droid disconnected the cords from your body and rewrapped them to hang neatly on the machine’s hooks.

“All of your vitals values are within expected parameters, however, your blood pressure is rather low. Drinking fluids should correct this,” it stated.

You nodded and watched 4-3B shuffle across the room, opening multiple drawers and cabinets to collect what appeared to be a suture kit, gauze, salves, and a roll of elastic bandage wrap.

After collecting its supplies, the droid began inspecting the rows of vials, the same vials it had been organizing just before you entered. It made its selection question, plucking up a glass vial with a flat, blue top that housed a clear liquid. With its pincer fingers, 4-3B flicked the cap off and plunged a needle through the rubber barrier, expertly drawing up the solution into the attached syringe.

Sweat beaded at your hairline at the sight of the needle, long and sharp as it retracted from the vial. You couldn’t help the anxiety that swelled in your chest at the thought of being jabbed by it, the sting of it puncturing your skin.

“If you don’t mind me asking,” you said, clearing your throat between breaths, “what is that?”

4-3B set the vial down and sheathed the needle with the attached safety cover before answering. “This is lidocaine. It will numb the area before I begin placing sutures.”

“Oh, okay,” you whispered, feeling your pulse quicken as 4-3B removed the large needle from the end of the syringe and dropped it in a red receptacle, placing a new—and notably smaller—needle on it.

Why are you so anxious tonight? Needles had never really bothered you before. When you had the birth control implant placed, you had hardly batted an eye—practically dozing off on the table while it was happening. So, what was different now? Other than the nonexistent chance of you peacefully dozing off this time.

4-3B placed its supplies on a clean tray and brought it over to your bedside before uncapping another clear syringe and flushing your wounds with it. The liquid was cold as it washed the gashes, relieving the burning sensation in the damaged skin.

After repeating the process a few more times, 4-3B uncapped the lidocaine syringe and anchored its prong-like fingers beneath your inflamed skin, the needle steady in its grip.

“I am now going to inject the lidocaine into the skin around the wounds. You will feel a small pinch and a stinging sensation.”

There was something oddly comforting in the way 4-3B spoke. Detached, yet precise and knowledgeable.

The needle broke the skin, and just as 4-3B had promised, a stinging sensation spread throughout the tissue as it slowly filled with lidocaine. The pain wasn’t terrible, and after a moment, the drug had become effective, relieving you of having to feel 4-3B continue to inject the skin around your wounds. Now, all you could feel was a faint pressure from the needle digging around the torn flesh.

Satisfied with its work, 4-3B deployed the safety cap and discarded the empty syringe on the metal tray before opening a small square of gauze and blotting the excess fluid from your wound.

“Lay back on the bed and relax your arm, miss.”

You followed its instructions and laid back against the paper, wriggling into a semi-comfortable position—as if comfort was even a possibility on this bed.

Deciding the best plan of action was to not watch 4-3B stitch your wounds, you closed your eyes and tried to remove yourself from the situation.

Strangely enough, you started to relax, your mind conjuring a familiar daydream: the fantasy you had created of a life shared with Ben. Maybe all of those cleaning chemicals were good for something, after all.

As your mind drifted, you could hear the faint sound of 4-3B speaking to you, its words becoming increasingly distorted.

Soon enough, the imaginary reality you had fallen into had completely engulfed your senses.

Pictured in your mind’s eye was you, just as you were now, but instead of donning your usual tan uniform, you were dressed in a fitted, brown leather jacket with black, leather pants to match. The material hugged your body perfectly, accentuating your shape in every way your Jedi robes didn’t. On your hip was a shiny, silver blaster, tucked snugly in its holster. You looked, for lack of a better term, badass.

You stood on a balcony made entirely of glass, one that overlooked a bustling metropolis made up of tall buildings and crowded hyperlanes. The bright neon signs upon each skyscraper painted the night sky in a variety of vivid colors. Upon further inspection, you found that the city below you wasn’t a city at all, but one of the many levels of Coruscant’s surface.

Somewhere far off, a suture needle punctured your skin, cinching the edges of your top wound together as 4-3B pulled the thread into a knot.

Back on the balcony, there was another figure beside you—an unmistakable, dark-haired man. Ben Solo was wearing all black, from the tactical jacket draped over his shoulders, to the straps, holsters, and pants around his hips. His fair skin absorbed the lights of the cityscape, an array of colors dancing across his freckled face as he looked down at you.

Snip. The sound of 4-3B cutting the thick thread penetrated your dream, yet wasn’t enough to pull you from it.

One of Ben’s big hands pressed into the small of your back as he turned you to face him, his other one tipping your chin up to his face. Tangible butterflies erupted in your stomach at just the idea of his touch.

As you met his gaze, you noticed a unique feature, one that the Ben you knew did not have. A long, pale scar ran up the left side of his neck, continuing over his cheek and brow bone.

The sight was disorienting. You tried to step away from him, but his grasp around your waist tightened. His embrace was overpowering—almost possessive—causing panic to rise in your chest. Now pinned against his frame, he held your chin firmly between his fingers, forcing your gaze to his dark eyes.

Your surroundings became blurry as you futilely attempted to ground yourself in reality. Around you, the clear balcony beneath you transformed into a dark-tiled floor as the vivid, neon signs lining the skyscrapers morphed into tall, black panels filled with blinding white light, illuminating you in the unfamiliar setting.

Under your palm, Ben’s clothing had changed too. A black, quilted tunic replaced his weathered jacket, the fabric the only soft element of his appearance.

You shut your eyes as he guided your lips up to his, a putrid feeling churning in your stomach. Just before your lips made contact, a loud, robotic voice echoed throughout the hallway.

“I am done now, miss.” 4-3B’s voice was a lifeline, retrieving you from the nightmare. “These sutures will fall out on their own in one to two week’s time. In the meantime, you will need to change the dressings daily, or as needed, such as if they get wet or become compromised.”

You hardly registered its words as you propped yourself up on the table with shaky hands, trying to control your unsteady breath. The infirmary was a comforting sight as your vision became less distorted, the details of your surroundings slowly reappearing.

The image of Ben haunted you, burned into your eyes as you stared at the white wall. It was too realistic, too tangible to be a dream.

4-3B lifted your arm and began carefully wrapping your sutures with an elastic bandage. After completing its work, the droid turned away from you and retrieved a bottle from the small fridge in the supply station.

You jumped off of the table, your legs weak as you cautiously walked forward. 4-3B handed you the slim bottle of a pale, cloudy substance. In bold letters running up the side of the glass bottle read: ‘Hydralyte (Electrolyte Solution)’.

In the corner of your vision, you could see 4-3B placing unopened care supplies in a clear, drawstring bag for you to take back to your quarters.

“That is all, miss,” 4-3B said as it handed you the bag. “If there is anything else I can do for you, please let me know.”

“I will, Threebee,” you said as you accepted the bag with your free hand.

With that, 4-3B turned and made its way to clean the metal tray beside the examination table. You glanced down at the items in your hands, as if to verify that you had everything you needed, before opening the door and slipping back out into the dark night.

“Oooh look, they’re serving tiingilar tonight,” Ben said as the two of you entered the dinner line.

The aroma of the hearty stew wafted from the serving dishes, its fragrance as comforting as it was in your childhood.

“My mom used to make tiingilar all the time when I was little. I don’t think I’ll ever get tired of it,” you said, inhaling the scent as you stepped forward in line.

“I can’t say I’ve eaten more than a handful of times in my life. Good thing I have a connoisseur with me to tell me if it meets her standards.” Ben nudged you teasingly with his elbow, striking you just below your wound.

You winced and let out a sharp breath. “Hey, watch it!”

As he turned to look at you, you saw the realization of what he did dawn on him.

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry, baby–” He stopped himself just before he could finish the word, clearing his throat to erase any evidence of the endearment from his palette. He scanned the environment for anyone who could be listening before correcting himself, his voice much lower this time. “I didn’t mean to…” He paused, visibly concerned about his slip up. “I’m sorry.”

4-3B had sutured and dressed your wounds nearly an hour ago and as the lidocaine’s effect slowly ebbed away, the numbness was replaced by a nagging ache.

Ben had been surprised to see the bandage around your arm when you met him in the dining hall, his curiosity immediately piqued. After a few teasing remarks from him, you reluctantly divulged the rather lame story of getting hit by a remote droid. He could hardly suppress his smile as you told him how you destroyed the droid after the second blast. In hindsight, it was an irrational and silly thing to do, but it felt so natural in the moment.

“It’s okay,” you said, grabbing a bowlful of the hot tiingilar and setting it down on your tray. “Besides, I doubt that you and I are much of a secret anymore now. We have Voe to thank for that.”

Ben let out a huff beside you, shaking his head lightly as he grabbed a bowl for himself. “Don’t let her get to you.”

“I think it’s too late for that.”

Across the room, a hand shot up from a table, catching your attention as the two of you turned to find a table. With two empty seats beside them, Tai and Hennix had evidently been saving spots for the both of you.

Not having seen either of them since the tournament, you dreaded interacting with either of them. You could only imagine what they must have thought after watching the match between you and Ben.

The two men exchanged a knowing look as you both walked over and filled the empty seats.

“You had us worried for a second there,” Hennix said to you as you sat down. “With all the rumors floating around, we were starting to think that Master Skywalker had expelled you for getting with his nephew.”

Ben rolled his eyes in response, his expression more irritated than amused.

“You should know better than to trust a rumor,” you said, your annoyance evident in your tone.

“It’s hardly a rumor when I saw it with my own two eyes,” Tai said, leaning in closer to the center of the table. “I’ve known Ben a lot longer than you have. I can tell when he’s taking it easy on his opponent.”

Heat rushed to your ears as you thought back to the match with him. That was taking it easy on you? You had barely been able to hold your own against him, under the assumption that he wasn’t holding back. Somehow, you were angry at him for pulling his punches.

You swirled your spoon in the tiingilar, feeling Ben’s eyes on you as you stirred the sliced carrots and potatoes around. Steam rose from the stew as you lifted a spoonful to your lips, blowing on the bite before carefully swallowing it.

“Enough, Tai,” Ben snapped in a low tone. “She’s had a rough day. Actually, we both have.”

You cocked an eyebrow at him. “Oh yeah? What’s been going on with you?”

He took a bite of the stew, showing restraint by not shoveling the entire bowl into his mouth in under a minute like he usually did.

“I’ve just been feeling…off today,” he said between bites. “It’s hard to describe, and it could be because I’ve been distracted with all the preparations for Ilum, but it’s like I’m having trouble connecting with the Force.”

“Wait, really?” you exclaimed through a mouthful of carrots and rice. “Because I’ve felt out of tune with it all day.” The spices of the stew started burning your tongue as you spoke, frantically searching for your bottle of Hydralyte.

“Yeah, yeah, take a ticket, you two,” Hennix chuckled. “Whatever it is, it’s going around campus like the clap.”

Choosing to ignore his analogy, you redirected the conversation. “Has anyone talked to Master Skywalker about this?”

The three men shook their heads, looking around the table to see if any of them had taken action.

“Let me rephrase that: do you think we should talk to Master Skywalker about this?”

“I mean, what is he going to say? That we’re all distracted and need to focus on our meditation?” Tai said, setting his now empty glass of blue milk down with a clink. “I think I speak for everyone when I say that I’d rather not get lectured for trying to get to the bottom of this.”

You leaned back, crossing your arms over your chest. “Okay, but what are the odds that all of us are feeling weird? Don’t you think that’s something worth investigating?” Your voice was raised, but you weren’t necessarily angry—just frustrated.

Under the table and out of view of the others, Ben slid a hand over your knee and gave it a gentle squeeze.

“It’s probably nothing,” he said, rubbing his thumb over the fabric of your pants. “Definitely not something to lose sleep over.”

His touch was soothing, but you were still irritated about the unresolved issue. “If you say so.”

The conversation died as you and Ben turned back to eating while Tai and Hennix gathered their used napkins and dirty dishes on their trays.

Tai grabbed his tray before standing up, elbowing Hennix in the side to do the same. “Well, I think we’ll leave you two lovebirds be. Besides, I need to finish reviewing my texts before tomorrow’s lesson.”

“We’re not–” you started to say before Hennix cut you off.

“Same here,” he said, winking at Ben before clearing his dishes from the table. “Don’t get into too much trouble, kids.”

“No promises,” Ben said, a hint of sarcasm in his gruff voice.

As the two men walked away from the table, Ben slid his hand up from your knee to your thigh, sending heat rushing to your cheeks.

For fuck’s sake.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Mhm,” Ben hummed beneath you, his chest rising and falling rhythmically under your palm.

His eyes were fixed on the text in his hand as he flipped through the pages, skimming through the required reading. He had brought it with him when he came over after dinner, adamant on still being with you while he studied for tomorrow’s lesson.

You had long abandoned your own assigned reading, finding that running your hand over Ben’s bare chest was far more interesting than memorizing the principles of the Jedi Order. You traced lazy patterns over his muscles, occasionally connecting his freckles with invisible lines, as if you were drawing constellations on his skin. For the first time all week, you finally felt relaxed.

“Do you ever have moments where you feel…” You paused, searching for the right word. “Distanced from the light?”

He set the book down on his stomach, meeting your gaze. “Distanced from the light?”

You nodded, unsure how to elaborate without confessing to the moments of darkness you had experienced, including the vision you had in the infirmary.

Before you could respond, he spoke again.

“I’d say I’ve felt more than just distanced from the light,” he said softly, as if he was choosing his words carefully. “Sometimes I feel like I’m caught in a balancing act between the light and the dark.”

“You do?”

“Yes. More often than I’d like to admit.”

You blinked, unsure how to navigate this conversation. “How do you handle it?”

He shifted under you, raising an arm above his head to rest on the pillow. “I’m not sure I do.”

An uncomfortably long moment passed as you absorbed his words. You stared into the dwindling flames in the fire pit, your hand still resting on his chest below you.

“Why do you ask?” He cupped your cheek with his hand, soothing the delicate skin with his thumb. “Do you feel distanced from the light?”

“At times…yes,” you answered. “Master Skywalker said that I drew my power from the dark side before I got here.”

His face lit up at your confession. “Wait, let me guess…” he said, looking up in thought. “You were arguing with someone and they said something that really pissed you off and in your rage, you accidentally choked them?”

“No, you smartass,” you scoffed, grinning into his warm palm. “I didn’t accidentally choke someone. It’s actually much worse than that.”

His eyes widened in anticipation.

“I accidentally killed a Kath hound that was going to attack me.”

His mouth parted with feigned surprise. “You killed it? In self-defense? Damn, I didn’t realize I was in the presence of a cold-blooded killer.”

“Oh, please,” you groaned, pushing his hand away from your cheek. “I’m serious, Ben. I’m really worried about this.”

He tucked his rejected hand under his head, propping himself up a bit higher. “Well, do you still feel its pull?”

“Yes.”

“Okay, let’s talk about it then,” he offered, his tone more serious than before. “I think that understanding it will help you control your fear of it.”

You rolled back onto the pillow beside him, left with little room between his body and the wall.

“I don’t know where to start. It usually calls to me when I’m meditating, but there’s been a few times where I haven’t been doing anything related to the Force and it's happened.”

Ben turned to face you, his eyes trained on you as you spoke.

“There was one time in the forest, the time I told you that an animal scared me.” You paused, replaying the moment in your head. “That wasn’t the truth. The truth is that I had been meditating and the darkness had pulled me under. It was terrifying, like I was being dragged into a cold abyss beneath the surface of the Academy.”

There was a brief silence before Ben finally spoke. “I understand.” His voice was low and calming, an antidote to your growing concern. “Just know that it’s nothing wrong with you. Every great Jedi the galaxy has ever known has faced this exact problem and conquered it. I know that you will, too.”

He leaned over and planted a light kiss on your forehead, gently snaking an arm up your spine. As he pulled you in closer, you remembered how it felt to be held by him in your dream. The feelings were nothing alike, the Ben on the balcony being a complete stranger to the one holding you tightly right now.

His warm breath fanned over your ear as he tucked his head into your neck. The image of him with the scar appeared in your mind, but it didn’t bother you like it had before. In his arms, nothing could disturb you.

“At least one of us believes in me,” you muttered against his chest as you buried your face in it, inhaling the fresh scent of his cologne. “Thanks for being here, Ben.”

A certain three-lettered phrase clawed its way up your throat, desperate to be announced. The feeling surged in your belly and flooded your chest, dousing your entire body in a warm, fuzzy sensation that corroded your logic.

“I’ll always be here, princess.” Ben pressed his lips to the top of your head before resting his chin on the same spot.

The two of you stayed there for a moment before you pulled back to look at him. His hair had fallen out of place, revealing the tips of his ears. You raked your fingers through his dark waves, pushing them out of his face. The freckles that scattered the bridge of his nose seemed more pronounced in the dim light, tapering off on his high cheeks. His beauty never failed to captivate you.

He watched you intently, admiring you just the same as you were him. Under his eyes were puffy, dark bags, evidence of his own poor sleeping habits.

“You look tired,” you whispered.

He chuckled softly. “What gave it away?”

Your thumb grazed over his cheekbone as you lowered your hand, dragging over his bottom lip before pressing against his chest. “Just those big, brown eyes of yours.”

He rubbed his eyes with the heels of his palms, letting out a long sigh as he did. “If I’m being honest, I haven’t slept well since that night with you.”

Warmth burst in your chest at his statement, a smile stretching across your face. “I guess I’ll just have to stay over more often.”

“I guess so,” Ben said through a yawn. “As much as I’d love to stay here, I should probably go back. I still have a few chapters to go over and I don’t want to keep you up any later than I already have.”

You groaned. “Do you have to study, though?”

A laugh vibrated in his throat. “Yes, I really do.”

“Fine,” you relented. “Just know that I expect perfection from you on this exam.”

“I'll do my best.”

“You’d better.”

He sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, revealing a pattern of wrinkles from the bedding etched into his skin. He pulled his thermal over his head and stood to his feet, searching for his boots in the low light.

To your dismay, he finally found his boots and slipped them on. If only you could manipulate the Force to make them disappear. Maybe then he wouldn’t—or couldn't—leave you. Maybe then you’d actually get some decent sleep.

You let out an amused breath at the thought, catching Ben’s attention as he stepped into the second shoe.

“What’s so funny?” he asked, digging his fists into the firm mattress as he leaned closer to your level.

“Nothing,” you answered, hiding the smile forming on your lips behind your hand.

He scrutinized you with playful eyes as he picked up his text, holding the ridiculously thick spine in one hand like it was a children’s book.

“It’s not nice to keep secrets,” he said, pulling your chin up with his free hand to meet his lips.

The kiss was warm and sweet, his lips moving gently against yours. Instinctually, you reached for the collar of his robes, trying to keep him here longer.

Your chest felt hollow as he pulled away, his fingers still holding your chin in place.

“Goodnight, princess.”

You looked up at him with big eyes, silently pleading for him to stay. “Goodnight,” you said softly.

“Another night, I promise,” he added, as if he had read exactly what your eyes communicated.

“Okay.”

He smiled down at you before releasing his grip on your chin and walking towards the door. You watched as the door latched shut behind him, Soon, the sound of his footsteps became distant, leaving you with only the pops and crackles of the fire pit to keep you company.

Deciding that there was no use in staying up later than you already had, you nestled into the sheets that had just housed you and Ben, letting your head sink into the feather-filled pillow. You closed your eyes, desperately hoping for a good night’s rest.

Time passed slowly as you waited to fall asleep, tossing and rolling in your sheets. You quickly discovered which positions hurt your arm the most and tried to avoid them, but your restlessness made it difficult. You tried not to think about how easily you would have fallen asleep if Ben had stayed.

Miraculously, the heaviness of sleep began to settle over you, bringing with it the promise of an escape from the long days of training you had put your body through.

Just as it was about to claim you, a sharp, burning sensation erupted in the side of your neck, like a scalding knife slicing into your flesh. A strangled gasp caught in your throat as you reached up to touch the area, feeling a small, metal dart piercing the surface of your skin.

Everything happened so fast. An icy sensation flooded your veins as you tried to grab the object, but before you could, your fingers became stiff, every muscle in your body becoming rigid and tense.

Black dots filled your vision as you laid there helplessly, hot tears filling your eyes as you quickly succumbed to the darkness pulling you under.

52 notes · View notes

capuletangel · 2 years

Text

Like Phantoms, Forever

Chapter Twelve | Never Meant

Pairing: Ben Solo/Kylo Ren x Reader

What to expect: fluff, violence, sexual content, general angst, mentions/descriptions of injury and death

Additional info: this story is set in 28 ABY, six years prior to the events of TFA

*concurrently being published on AO3 and Wattpad as well!

Masterlist

Spotify Playlist

Word count: 5.9k

Chapter-specific CW: NSFW content, unprotected sex, inappropriate use of the Force

A/N: I accidentally hurt my own feelings while writing this chapter, but hey! That's showbiz baby!!!

───────── ⋆ ☆ ⋆ ─────────

“Both pupils are equal, round, and reactive to light and accommodation,” the medical droid stated plainly as it lowered the penlight from your eyes and clicked it off.

You blinked rapidly, trying to wipe away the lingering light from your sight, but a trail still streaked through your vision.

“Considering that the cranial nerve assessment showed no deviation from the expectation and that the patient is not currently exhibiting symptoms associated with a traumatic brain injury, it is my professional opinion that she is safe to resume training activities and…”

As intriguing as 4-3B’s analysis of your condition was, you couldn’t help but tune it out—especially since the findings were identical to Ben’s.

“A little Force pushing isn’t enough to damage our thick skulls,” you said to Ben through your invisible connection, earning a stifled laugh from him seated across the examination room.

You lazily swung your legs back and forth from the examination table—which was really more like a bed—as you watched 4-3B’s assessment data automatically fill the blank spots in your chart. The system was fascinating to watch, instantly transferring information from its memory core to the blue-tinted data screen beside you as it verbally explained your report.

“If you begin to experience symptoms, such as headache, nausea, vomiting, dizziness, or visual disturbances, please come b–”

“Back to the infirmary immediately, I know,” you said impatiently, trying to hurry this visit along so you could escape the uneasy tension hanging between you, Ben, and Master Skywalker.

Given the comment he had made as you snuck into the temple, as well as his apprehension to send you two off in a private ship together, there was no doubt in your mind that he knew about you two, at least in some capacity. And to make matters worse, he knew that you knew that he knew. “Uncomfortable” didn’t do the situation justice.

“If you do not have any other questions, miss, you are cleared to leave.” 4-3B’s tone could only be described as irritated, at least by medical droid standards.

With that, you hopped off the table and started towards the door, avoiding your Master’s gaze.

“Well then, I think I’m going to turn in early for the night. I’ll see you tomorrow, Master,” you said quickly, already pulling the door open. You didn’t bother addressing Ben—trying to create as much distance between you and him in the sterile room.

“Not so fast.” Master Skywalker stopped the door with the Force, freezing it just shy of being wide enough for you to escape. “Since I have the two of you here, there’s something I’d like to discuss.”

Your pulse thrummed in your ears and throat, deafening you. You nodded and released the door handle, watching as it slowly latched shut.

Trepidation rolled through your stomach as you turned on your heels to face your Master, catching a glimpse of Ben seated in the corner as you did. He looked equally as displeased with the situation, his arms crossed over his chest and jaw tense as he sat slouched in the chair.

In the time that had passed as Master Skywalker articulated himself, the multitude of possible outcomes of this conversation ran through your mind—calculating every unique way he could chastise and dismiss you and Ben from the Academy. Would he be forthright and tell you that your illicit affair was against the Jedi Code? Or was he going to tip-toe around the subject before completely derailing your lives?

“Look, you two, I’m hesitant to send you two off on a journey alone,” he said plainly, his arms crossed over his chest and eyes boring into your soul.

Your heart hammered in your chest with enough force to break your ribs and leap out onto the eerily clean linoleum floor. You swallowed thickly, conjuring up any possible excuse that could throw him off your scent.

Before you could speak, he continued. “I’m worried about what could happen out there if the two of you go without me…” He pulled his beard between his fingers, stroking it anxiously.

The three of you sat steeped in uncomfortable silence as you each processed your thoughts. You resisted the urge to glance at Ben as panic rose in your chest, followed closely by crushing disappointment. The last thing you wanted was for your Master to impose himself on your only chance at true alone time with Ben, your only opportunity to exist without the burden of the Jedi Order weighing on your conscience.

The previously mended cracks in your heart ruptured into deep, cavernous abysses at the realization. You could never truly be with Ben—not even in the capacity that you had expected to be for this one trip. The harsh reality was that these two things would always be mutually exclusive, and you weren’t sure which one you would rather live without.

“Master, I–” you started to say before Master Skywalker interrupted you.

“I know that I’m probably just being paranoid, but I can’t jeopardize your safety like this.”

“I’m going with her, aren’t I?” Ben’s voice cutting in reeled you back from your spiraling thoughts. He tilted his head as he stared at his uncle. “Do you doubt my ability to keep us safe, Master?”

The question hung in the air uncomfortably long as Master Skywalker glared back at him, his gray eyes slightly narrowed.

“It’s not that I doubt your abilities, Ben—I wouldn’t have entrusted you with this task if I didn’t. What I’m trying to say is that…” He paused, seemingly forcing the next words out of his mouth. “I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if something happened to you out there.”

Ben scoffed as he stood from his seat. “But you’re fine with leaving the rest of your students behind?”

Your eyes widened a bit at his response. After all, it was a valid point.

“The Academy is safer than the expanse of the galaxy,” Master Skywalker said sharply.

“It may be, but that doesn’t mean you have to coddle us like we’re children.” Ben stepped closer towards him, towering over him. “We’ll be fine, Master. Besides, if we do run into any issues, we’ll have our comlinks and the Grimtaash’s communications to call for help.”

Master Skywalker brought his hand up to his mouth in thought. In the silence, you swore that your racing heart could be heard.

After what felt like an eternity had passed, he relented. “Fine. But I expect you to spend the rest of the afternoon checking the connections of those coms and reporting back to me when they’re cleared.”

Ben nodded in agreement and turned to face you, only taking a few long strides before reaching the door. You moved back to allow him room, still conscious of the pair of eyes that were following the both of you.

Ben yanked the door back and leaned back against it, propping it open and silently ushering you and Master Skywalker out of the infirmary. You ducked out first, wasting no time in returning to the students’ quarters.

A few moments later, you heard the sound of the two men bidding each other farewell, followed by heavy footsteps landing behind you. Unsurprisingly, Ben was catching up to you as his uncle walked away in the opposite direction.

“Hey,” he said, grabbing you by your shoulder and stopping you.

“Hey…?” you replied, trying to slough his hand from your body, conscious of possible prying eyes.

He stared down at you, bewildered by your reaction. “Don’t you think we should talk about what happened out there?”

In the chaos of the last thirty minutes, you had almost forgotten about what had landed you in the infirmary in the first place.

“Oh…yeah.” You resumed your pace at a slower rate as Ben walked beside you, your reply dying in the air as you continued towards the huts.

“You’re not nearly as freaked out as I had expected you to be,” he said with a light laugh. “That was insane.”

You looked up from the ground beneath you to meet his gaze. “What was that, Ben?” Your voice was low as you spoke, revealing your true concern. “I’ve never felt anything like it before. I’m not freaked out, I’m terrified.”

The silence that followed was haunting, an acknowledgment that what had happened was beyond a simple scrimmage or Force abilities. It was more powerful than that, something larger than the both of you.

“I’ve never felt anything like it before, either. All I know is that it must somehow be connected to us,” he said.

You rolled your eyes. “Stellar insight, Ben.”

“Let me finish,” he said, his voice was somewhere between stern and lighthearted. “What I mean is that it must be related to the connection we share. People don’t just communicate telepathically through the Force.”

“Yes, I’m well aware of that,” you scoffed.

What was he trying to say?

“So…what if this is a sign?” He stopped walking beside you, cuing you to do the same.

“A sign about what? I don’t think this is something that you can make sense of—you just have to accept it at face value.” You stepped closer to him, lowering your volume. “We share something unique, and it’s all because of the Force, or some other, unexplainable entity. Or maybe it’s just an enigma we must accept that we’ll never understand.” There was a hint of defeat in your tone.

“It certainly is unique…” Ben trailed, his eyes tracing over your features as he spoke. His gaze was as intense as ever, his brown eyes clouded with an indiscernible emotion as they flitted down to your lips. He pulled you closer by your waist, leaving little room between your bodies.

Your eyes darted around the area as you pulled away from him. “Ben, no,” you hissed, prying his fingers off your body. “What the hell are you doing?”

He grinned down at you as he turned on his heels and dropped his hands from your waist. “Follow me.”

His voice was quiet and gravelly, and unfortunately for you, irresistible. Before you could think critically, your legs were already carrying you behind him, tied to him like a shadow.

“Where are we going?” you asked as you worked to keep up with him.

He glanced over his shoulder, cocking an eyebrow at you. “To show you around the ship.”

After a shorter walk than you expected, you found yourself in front of a field of grounded starships, each ranging in size, model, and color. There were smaller models scattered around, such as X-Wings and A-Wings, as well as a few freighters—the names of which you couldn’t conjure even if you tried. There must have been at least a dozen ships in the clearing, as if each one belonged to an individual student.

You stared at the ships with a childish wonder, amazed by each and every one of them. Of course, you had seen ships before—even traveled in one once before—but it was nothing compared to the fleet in front of you.

Every faded exterior and cosmetic damage on the surface of the metal panels told a story, each one of these crafts living a life of its own as a fighter against the Empire, a smuggler of stolen goods, or a transport full of refugees from the formerly occupied systems of the galaxy. Master Skywalker was breathing new life into each one of them here at his Academy.

Ben approached one charcoal gray freighter in particular, tapping his fingers quickly on the screen beside its massive door and lowering the ramp way.

“Why have I never seen these before?” you asked, moving closer towards the lowering walkway of the ship.

“Is this not where T-2LC dropped you off when you arrived? I would’ve thought you would have seen the shipyard by now.”

“T-2…” you mumbled, racking your brain to recall the details of that day.

“The protocol droid that navigated the ship here. Elsie picked you up on Dantooine, right?”

The memory of the shiny silver droid came rushing back, remembering how it greeted you and introduced itself as you boarded the transport, just moments after you had taken one last look at your mother standing at the base of the ship. You cleared your throat and pushed the memory aside, ignoring the sting in your chest at the thought of your home.

“Oh, yeah…I remember now,” you said quietly.

Ben was standing at the base of the ramp, evidently waiting for you to stop rummaging through the memory of your interaction with the droid to come join him. As you came to a stop beside him, he slipped his hand in yours, causing you to instinctively pull your hand away.

“It’s okay. No one’s going to see us out here,” he whispered.

You inhaled a deep breath and relaxed into his touch, giving his big hand a squeeze as he guided you up the ship’s ramp.

The interior was almost as dark as the exterior, just slightly warmer in hue. Lined with seats, control panels, and collectables from all over the galaxy, the belly of the ship was welcoming, luring you in to explore every detail.

You did, breaking free from Ben’s grasp and rushing forward, investigating the contents behind every sliding door and admiring each encased souvenir perched on the embedded shelving. Where are these from? What epic adventure is responsible for each collection piece? Your thoughts were moving faster than the speed of light as you ran your index finger through the thin layer of dust on one shelf.

Ben watched from the entryway with amusement as you pulled apart his ship, before entering the cockpit and powering the machinery on.

The engines didn’t rumble as he flipped switches on the control panel, leading you to believe he was only turning on the electricity in the ship. Your theory was confirmed when soft yellow lights flickered on around you, embedded in both the ceiling and floorboards.

“I hope you know I’m never leaving this place,” you called out as you toyed with the checkered table in front of a curved row of seats. You hadn’t played holochess since grade school, but you knew a Dejarik table when you saw one.

After a moment of fumbling with the switches, you finally managed to start a new game. A hologram of the classic chess pieces appeared from the center of the table. You let out an excited squeal as you flipped through the options before stopping on your favorite piece, seeing it for the first time again in over a decade.

“You play holochess?” Ben asked, leaning against the cockpit doorway. From the look on his face, you could tell that he was in his element here, ready to pilot the ship at a moment’s notice. His sharp features were softened by the ambient glow that flooded the space.

For a brief moment, you allowed yourself to imagine that this was just another conversation in a day of the life you shared with him, one where perhaps the two of you were freighters—or even more dangerous—smugglers, hauling cargo across the galaxy every day for a sweet profit.

Movement from the holochess pieces in front of you pulled you from your daydream, violently throwing you back into reality.

“I dabble. If you’d like, I’d gladly kick your ass in a quick round,” you said, forcing a smile—one that felt just a tad too wide to be sincere.

“Like you kicked my ass during training?”

“Exactly like training.”

“I might take you up on that after I finish checking these comms. After all, I need to even the score…” he said slowly, pushing himself off of the doorframe and moving closer towards you.

You rolled your eyes before staring off into the translucent image of the Kintan strider waiting idly above the round tabletop, your smile beginning to fade as heartache crept in.

“Hey, what’s wrong?” He took the seat next to you and wrapped an arm around your back and another under your legs, pulling you across his lap. “Are you worried that I might actually kick your ass?”

A weak chuckle escaped from your throat as you wrapped your arms behind his neck, shaking your head in disagreement. The lingering thoughts of a domestic life with him were shoved out of the window in your mind as you rested your head on his chest.

The two of you stayed there for a moment, holding each other in peaceful silence as you counted each steady thump of his heartbeat and twirled your fingers around his dark locks. This was it. This was the closest thing to domesticity you could have with him.

“So…” you finally spoke, “is this ship yours? Or is it, like, shared with the other students?”

“It’s mine,” he answered, his voice vibrating through you as you sat pressed against his ribs. “Just mine.”

You nodded slightly. “Does everyone else have their own, too?”

“No, just a few students. Not many people want to subject themselves to the required flying lessons with Master Skywalker.” The statement transformed into a soft laugh as he pictured what you could only assume was his own lessons with Master Skywalker.

“I can’t even imagine what it’s like,” you said, picturing yourself frantically trying to pilot a craft as Master Skywalker criticized your technique, holding onto the seat harness for dear life.

“It was pretty rough. The only saving grace for me was I already knew a bit from what my dad and his buddy had taught me,” he said softly. “Otherwise, I think I would’ve quit after the first lesson.”

His expression was warmer than it had been the last time he spoke about his father. You saw the opportunity in front of you and seized it, continuing your questions about his family.

“Your dad taught you how to fly?” You slid your fingers down his neck and over his shoulders as you waited for his response.

“Just the basics. He never actually let me practice flying, though.” His tone was becoming apathetic as he spoke, raising the alarm in your head that this was not a subject you should probe further.

“Ah, I see…” you mumbled, leaving behind a long pause as you scrambled to change the subject. “Well, uh, I really like your ship.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” he replied with a quiet chuckle, seemingly relieved to be off the subject as well. “Although, there’s still one more room you need to see.”

As much as you would have liked to have stayed wrapped in his arms all day, you shifted off his lap and climbed out of the lounge, raising an eyebrow at him as you waited for him to show you the way.

The ship was certainly larger than the transport that carried you here, but considering the size of the main hold, you couldn’t imagine there was much space to spare.

Ben led the way through a tight corridor to the mystery room, your anticipation building with each step. Maybe it’s some sort of a glass, star observatory room, you thought. But, wait—isn’t that what the cockpit is?

After a short walk through the curved hallway of the ship, Ben stopped in front of another sliding door and entered the passcode into the touchpad, revealing what appeared to be the captain’s quarters.

The room was larger than you had expected it to be, making you wonder where this space was kept from an outside view of the ship. The walls were lined with white, cushioned tiles and detailed with pale blue and violet accents. A small kitchenette was tucked in the corner, separated from the rest of the room by a bar table with two stools anchored beneath it. Across from the kitchen was a spacious bed built into the wall, allowing for more floor space in the suite.

You stepped inside and walked over to the kitchenette, inspecting the high-tech appliances on the counter and peeking into the cabinets. When you turned around, you saw Ben crouched in front of the bed, taking inventory of the drawers’ contents beneath it.

The same heartache from earlier returned as you watched him, your reckless imagination fueled by the sight in front you. This could be your life—coming back to your shared room after a long day, changing into your sleepwear and crawling under the deep purple duvet before snuggling into each other’s embrace. You two would make trivial conversation and maybe even share a kiss or two—or three—before falling asleep and doing it all again the next day.

“So…” The sound of Ben’s voice yanked you from your thoughts. He was now seated on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his elbows.

“Yes?”

“What do you think of it?” He motioned at the space around you, gauging your reaction. “I already stocked it with snacks and extra sets of clothes for you.”

You stood in front of him and pressed your palm into the mattress, testing its quality. It was soft and spongy, remembering the shape of your hand after you had lifted it. Certainly an upgrade from the Academy’s furnishings.

“Sets? Like, plural?” you asked, viciously picking at the skin around your nails. “How long are we going to be gone?”

He sighed. “That depends on how long it takes you to find your crystal.”

You blinked at him, your pulse rising. “Does it usually take a long time to find one?”

“Not necessarily. I can’t really say though, it’s different for everyone,” he said as he laid back on the mattress, his hair strewn around him like a dark halo.

A blend of excitement and anxiety consumed you. Excitement to be truly alone with Ben for the first time ever, but fearful to possibly fail at achieving this milestone. What if you couldn’t find a crystal at all? What if you weren’t meant to become a Jedi and you were just wasting Master Skywalker’s resources and time?

Noticing your concern, Ben grabbed your wrist gently and guided you to sit next to him. “It’s going to be okay. If it ends up taking you a little longer to find one, we’ll just make a trip to an outpost for extra food and supplies.”

You nodded and laid down beside him, your feet still planted on the floor. His confidence was almost contagious, nearly successful in convincing you that you were going to be fine. But deep down, you knew that you wouldn’t be relieved until you had your kyber crystal in your hands.

A beat passed before either of you said anything else. His hand found yours again and rubbed soothing circles over the back of it.

“As nerve-wracking as it is, I am really excited for this,” you said quietly, focusing on the pattern of his thumb on your skin.

Ben smiled in return—his authentic, beautiful smile that you loved so much. “I am, too.” His honey eyes traced over your face, as if he were memorizing you.

“And this bed,” you said, rolling onto your side to face him as you poked a finger into the mattress. “It’s like laying on a cloud.”

He chuckled. “It’s certainly an upgrade from our cots.”

“I think I could stay here forever…” you sighed and paused, hesitant to complete the thought. “Stay here with you.”

He searched your eyes for a moment before his wide pupils darted down to your lips. A moment later, his lips were on yours, kissing you fiercely as he ran a hand along your waist. You moaned into the kiss as his grip tightened on your hip, pushing you onto your back and pinning you against the mattress.

A small gasp escaped your lips as he abruptly pulled away, slowly lowering his elbows on either side of your head.

“Ben–”

He silenced you with another kiss. “I’ve been waiting all day for this,” he whispered, his voice low. “Watching you out there was driving me fucking insane.”

You couldn’t help the smirk that spread across your face. Was that why he was being so broody today?

Now wasn't the time to be asking these questions, not when you were pinned beneath him in his ship’s private bedroom.

“You mean it?” you purred, egging on his compliments.

He snatched your wrists in his big hand and brought them up above your head, leaning down until his face was only inches from yours. “Yes, I mean it.”

His body above yours and his dark tone caused your head to spin as desire stirred between your legs.

“Seeing my girl out there, kicking everyone’s ass just like I knew she would.”

Warmth rushed to your cheeks, either from his comment or from the heat radiating off of his body. My girl. Somehow, the endearment felt more intimate than his usual “princess.”

“I couldn’t have done it without your help,” you said, stretching your neck up to capture his lips.

He parted your legs with his knee and pressed you further into the mattress with his chest, kissing you roughly as he did. He released your wrists, but the pressure of his hands remained, an invisible restraint still holding them in place.

Pleased with himself, he leaned back and smiled at you, dark curls falling into his face as he watched you struggle against the Force.

“You son of a—” you started to say before a big finger pressed against your lips stopped you. You squirmed beneath him as you tried to pull your hands free.

“If you keep moving, I’ll just tighten it.”

As different as this was, you actually didn’t mind it. In fact, there was something liberating about allowing him to have total control.

He pulled your robes apart and easily tugged them over your head before sliding his hands under the waistband of your pants. In an effort to make less work for him, you kicked off your boots, each one landing with a thud on the vinyl floor.

“Always so eager,” Ben said as he dipped closer to your ear, his warm breath sending a chill throughout your body.

“You’re one to talk,” you said breathlessly, your senses fixated on his hand slowly moving under your waistband.

He chuckled, the vibration rattling your brain as he dragged his lips tauntingly down your jaw and neck.

Gooseflesh erupted over your skin as his fingers slipped under the thin material of your underwear, rubbing languid circles over your sensitive clit. Another gasp left your lips, followed by a soft whimper as he added light pressure, immersing you in pure bliss.

“Listen to you, princess,” he growled as he lowered his lips to yours, silencing the ensuing moan. “Go ahead, be as loud as you’d like in here.”

The statement felt more like a command than an invitation, but you didn’t need much incentive to comply. You relaxed into the mattress, letting your pleasure dictate the curses and moans leaving your mouth.

Ben kept his thumb on your clit as he lowered two fingers down to your entrance, instantly meeting the warmth gathering there. His eyes darkened and a tiny smirk pulled at the corners of his mouth.

“Fuck, you’re already so wet,” he muttered, slowly pushing his fingers inside of you.

You opened your mouth to speak, but all that came out was a stuttered breath. He stretched you quickly, working his fingers deeper inside of you as his thumb rubbed tight circles over your clit.

It wasn’t long before you had adjusted to him, the initial pain subsiding into pleasure. You shut your eyes and allowed yourself to be submerged in the waves of bliss that washed over your body.

Fire licked at your skin as the blended sensation of his dexterous fingers effortlessly carried you towards your peak.

“Fuck, I’m gonna co–”

“No,” he snapped, pulling his hand out from under your pants. “Not yet, you aren’t.”

“What?” you panted, ripping your eyes open and shooting him a puzzled look. You groaned at the loss of contact as your ecstasy fizzled out, turning into a smoldering ember.

He didn’t respond, only stepping back and silently stripping the heavy robes off of his body.

The invisible grip holding your arms disappeared, and without him even saying a word, you knew why he had released you. You wiggled out of your pants and underwear before tugging your bra over your head and tossing it aside.

Just as you had adjusted yourself to lay properly on the bed, Ben replaced the invisible restraint around your wrists, pinning them against the silk pillow behind you.

You scoffed as you tried again to free yourself. “Really?”

“Yes, really,” he said as he crawled over you, lowering his body until it was almost touching yours. “If you want to come, I suggest you stop fighting it.”

You could tell he was enjoying this—having the power in the situation. And truthfully, it was incredibly hot.

“Okay…” you said, drawing the word out as you stared up at him with doe eyes.

He propped himself up on one elbow, his free hand tracing down your neck until he reached the skin between your breasts. Your heart slammed against your ribs with each beat, undoubtedly pulsating through his fingertips as they rested over your sternum. He lingered there for a moment before cupping one of your breasts with his hand, gently rolling your nipple between the rough pads of his fingers.

You melted into his touch, letting out a relieved moan as you relaxed into the pillows behind you.

“That’s better,” he said as he lowered his lips to yours, kissing you sweetly.

His fingers grazed over your stomach as he reached for your aching clit, passing over it with just a quick circle before stopping at your entrance. You rolled your hips against his hand, silently pleading for more.

His touch was featherlight as he spread your desire around your cunt before replacing his fingers with the head of his cock, dragging it over your clit. You watched in awe as he did, trying to memorize how his hair fell haphazardly into his face and his plush lips parted in concentration. The sight alone was enough to reignite the ember in your belly.

Sparks buzzed in your stomach as he aligned himself with you, his dark eyes meeting yours one last time, drinking in the image of your body sprawled out beneath him.

Slowly, he sank into you, releasing a deep groan from his chest as he did. You fought the urge to reach up for him, to wrap your hands around his shoulders for support as he moved inside of you.

You quickly adjusted to his size this time, having already had his fingers warming you up. Even still, he had to stop and pull back every so often to fully fit inside of you.

“You feel so fucking good,” he sighed into your neck, peppering wet kisses onto the skin. His fingers brushed over your chest and arm before interlocking with yours when he reached the invisible bind. “You’re so tight, baby.”

Between the sensation of him fucking you and his sweet adorations, your orgasm was steadily building again, your senses heightening with each thrust.

“Fuck—please—don’t stop,” you breathed between moans, wrapping your legs tighter around him to bring him closer to you.

He flexed his jaw as he pulled his hand free from yours, moving to hold your hips firmly as his fingers dug into your flesh. His movements were becoming uneven, evidence of his own desire.

“You did so well today, my good fucking girl…” he grunted, pushing into you harder. “And you’re being so good for me right now, too.”

Your addled brain was swimming at his words, and before you could say anything in response, a familiar sensation began buzzing around your clit.

“Oh, fuck! Just like that—right there,” you cried, practically babbling as the Force propelled you towards your peak.

“I want you to come when I tell you to,” Ben said as he propped himself up and unlatched your ankles from his waist, gripping them tightly as he pulled them over his shoulders.

You only nodded in response, unable to push coherent words out between breaths.

In this new position, he was able to fuck you deeper, his cock rubbing against sensitive spots you didn’t even know existed. It was becoming increasingly difficult to stave off your impending orgasm.

“Ben, I can’t,” you said between breaths. “I’m gonna–”

“Yes, you can. Just a little bit longer, baby.” His own pleasure was bleeding into his tone, the muscles in his shoulders and back becoming tense beneath your legs.

It felt nearly impossible to hold off any longer, but just as you were about to give in, the pressure around your wrists disappeared. Without hesitation, you wove your fingers in his hair, pulling him down as close to you as you possibly could.

The muscles in your legs screamed as continued to fuck you, leaning down and hovering above your lips, his ragged breath warm as he spoke. “Come for me.”

Euphoria ripped through you, staining your vision with blinding, white light as your orgasm washed over you, cries of pleasure ripping free from your chest. Your cunt pulsed around Ben’s cock as you came down from your high, causing his movements to become rushed and erratic.

Still rolling through the aftershocks of your climax, your eyes fluttered open, seeing Ben above you, mouth open and eyes screwed shut as he chased his own peak. It wasn’t long before his hips stilled inside you, his fingers bruising your skin as he gripped your thighs, filling you with his cum.

The world was spinning around you as he slowly pulled out of you, causing warmth to drip down your skin as he did. He collapsed on his forearms and kissed you gently, moving his lips lazily against yours as you both relished the endorphins coursing through your veins.

When he finally broke the kiss, you cleared your throat and nodded down at the mess between your legs. “Um, Ben? Can you…?”

He was already on his feet and pulling his pants over his hips, his gaze intense as he watched you lying helplessly on the bed.

“Don’t worry about the sheets, but as for that,” he said with a light laugh as he secured his pants, towering over you with one knee pressed into the mattress. “Let me take care of that.”

He carefully traced his fingers along your sensitive skin, gathering the warm cum that was spilling out of your cunt.

“What the fuck are yo—oh!” you gasped as he pushed his coated fingers inside your entrance again. While it was not at all what you were expecting, the grin on his face as admired his good work made your heart beat violently in your chest.

“Better?” he asked, slipping his fingers out of you and wiping the remnants off on the sheets.

“Yeah, better,” you whispered as he handed you the pile of your discarded clothes.

“That’s my girl.”

You pulled your underwear back on, instantly feeling his cum beginning to leak out of you as you sat up. You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.

Despite your mild irritation, you couldn’t deny how oddly exhilarating it was to have his cum soaking your underwear.

You stood from the bed and finished dressing, smoothing out the creases in your robes as a final touch.

Ben placed a hand on the small of your back as he steered you towards the door. “Now, we really should get back to checking the coms.”

104 notes · View notes

capuletangel · 2 years

Text

Please hotones make it rossterie chicken wings Adam will surely join then

72 notes · View notes

capuletangel · 2 years

Text

Like Phantoms, Forever

Chapter Eleven | Mind Over Matter

Pairing: Ben Solo/Kylo Ren x Reader

What to expect: fluff, violence, sexual content, general angst, mentions/descriptions of injury and death

Additional info: this story is set in 28 ABY, six years prior to the events of TFA

*concurrently being published on AO3 and Wattpad as well!

Masterlist

Spotify Playlist

Word count: 6.1k

A/N: I had an absolute blast writing this chapter and I hope you guys enjoy reading it! The next few chapters are probably going to take closer to 10 days to be posted bc I'm trying to adjust to my new work schedule :( but at least these long days give me plenty of time to think about Ben Solo ♡ Also, I finally decided on a name for pt. II of this story and I'm so excited about it??!!

───────── ⋆ ☆ ⋆ ─────────

“You’ll do great.”

“That’s easy for you to say,” you huffed.

Ben had been trying to encourage you for the entirety of the walk to the training grounds, but to no avail.

Only one day back from the week’s long punishment and your Master was already throwing you into one-on-one combat training with your classmates. In a way, it was its own form of punishment.

“How is that easy for me to say? Everyone here started somewhere,” Ben said, squeezing your shoulder with his big hand.

You rolled your eyes. While having to act platonic in public was undeniably brutal, it was still better than the alternative. Regardless, his touch alone was comforting.

“It’s easy for you to say because you’re Ben Solo, heir to the Skywalker bloodline. I, on the other hand, come from nothing.”

He frowned. “I think your parents would disagree with you saying that you come from nothing. And regardless of my family name, I still had to work to get to where I am.”

You supposed he was right, although you didn’t agree that you didn’t come from nothing. Before the Academy, you were no one. A farm girl whose destiny was to, what, inherit her father’s company? Spend her days aerating soil and planting crops? Not necessarily on par with the Skywalker legacy. Still, you appreciated his humility.

“I know, I know. I’m just nervous,” you replied, biting the inside of your cheek viciously as you approached the grounds.

“You’ll be fine.”

“I hope you’re right.”

The clearing was scattered with students, each one either fidgeting with their lightsaber, chatting, or doing what appeared to be warm-ups. You couldn’t have felt more out of place.

With wide eyes, you peered up at Ben beside you. “Is Master Skywalker at least going to give me a lightsaber to fight with? Or am I going to have to use a training rod against a laser sword?”

He looked down at you and met your gaze. “I’m sure he’ll give you a lightsaber. Just relax—for all we know, we could be paired up.”

Something light and tingly erupted in your stomach as you imagined fighting Ben. Sure, the two of you had practiced fighting that night in the forest, but that was completely different. For one, it wasn’t a competition either of you were trying to win then, as well as the intimacy of the choreography. You didn’t imagine there were many stolen kisses and roaming hands during true combat.

The thought of having to spar with him in front of an audience made your stomach churn.

“Ben, I think you’re great and all, but I think I’d rather peel my skin off than have to fight you in front of everyone.”

He laughed, showing off his deep dimples. “Why’s that? You’ve fought me before.”

“Technically, you were teaching me, not fighting me. I wouldn’t even last ten seconds in a real fight against you,” you answered matter-of-factly.

“You don’t know that,” he said.

“I’m not doing this right now,” you muttered, shaking your head. “Just promise me that you won’t kill me if we get paired up, okay?”

“Whatever you say.”

You stepped away from him to warm-up your arms and legs, alternating between pulling each of your arms across your chest and stretching your quads and hamstrings. Even after a few high-knees and a bit of running in place, you still didn’t feel ready to do this. The only positive of the situation was that it was warmer than it had been the past few days, with the sun peeking out from behind its cloud cover.

Ben stood and watched you, an amused look on his face. Evidently, advanced students were immune from possibly pulling a muscle.

As you were finishing stretching your triceps, a gloved hand patted you on the shoulder, causing you to jump back slightly.

“You ready, kid?” Master Skywalker asked enthusiastically.

You cleared your throat, hoping to sound more confident than you felt. “Yes, Master. Although, I was wondering…what exactly am I going to fight with?”

He offered you a sly grin before flipping one side of his cloak back, revealing the two lightsabers that were clipped to his belt. One was narrowed at the neck and lined with black ridges. The other was slender with a silver body, gold accents near the ignition. He unclipped the second one and held it out for you.

“You can keep this one until you build your own, which shouldn’t be too long from now.”

You accepted the saber and examined it, testing how it felt in your hand.

Master Skywalker continued. “Against my better judgment,” he said, acknowledging Ben with a sharp look, “I have the two of you scheduled to leave for Ilum in two week’s time. Any more tardies before then may change that.”

“I understand, Master. I am looking forward to it,” you replied stiffly. Would talking to him ever feel natural? You were starting to believe that it wouldn’t.

“Thank you, Master,” Ben said curtly, as if he were ushering him out of the conversation.

The Jedi Master’s only response was a hmph and a puff of air from his nostrils as he walked towards the front of the group.

“Someone’s excited to see Master Skywalker today,” you joked, nudging Ben with your elbow.

He didn’t flinch, staring ahead at your shared Master as he walked away, seemingly lost in a storm of thoughts.

“Hey, are you okay?”

“Yeah, fine,” he finally responded. “Just ready to get this over with.”

His statement couldn’t have felt less sincere, but you decided against prodding further. “Me too…” you agreed, directing your attention to your Master, too.

You hadn’t had many opportunities to see Ben and his uncle interact before, but when you did, it often ended with Ben brooding for seemingly no reason. Oh, what you would give to be able to know the inner workings of his mind.

“Alright everyone, let’s get started.” Master Skywalker’s voice thundered over the various conversations. “As I mentioned yesterday, you all will be scrimmaging today—except instead of being in pairs, you will be fighting in a tournament.”

Shit.

A tournament would mean more opportunities to embarrass yourself in front of your peers. Not to mention a nonzero chance of being paired with Ben. Perfect.

As if he had sensed your anxiety, Ben hooked his pinky in yours and gave it a light squeeze. Your eyes shot down to your hands, immensely grateful for your baggy sleeves covering them.

“I have the initial pairings entered here in my datapad. Once we’ve cleared through those, I’ll update the rankings and pairings,” Master Skywalker explained as he pulled a datapad from his cloak, tapping the screen a few times as he retrieved the brackets. “And remember, it’s not about winning, it’s about having fun.”

If it weren’t about winning, then you wouldn’t have us competing in a tournament, you thought. Evidently, Ben agreed with you, rolling his eyes at the statement as well.

“First up are Amir and Voe, followed by Tai and Ben.”

Relief washed over you when you didn’t hear your name called, saving your pride for just a bit longer.

“Go get ‘em,” you said to Ben, hesitantly pulling your hand from his grasp.

“I’ll do my best,” he said flatly as he unclipped his lightsaber from his belt. Before making his way to the sideline of the designated sparring area, he offered you a wink and a small smirk.

To your surprise, you found yourself actually enjoying the tournament. Granted, that could’ve been because you were only watching it.

The first few fights were entertaining, as well as informative of your peers’ different combat styles. It boosted your dwindling confidence to see your classmates defeated. It made you feel almost powerful, or rather, equal.

Voe bested Amir less than a minute after Master Skywalker declared the start. Her victory was the only one that made your stomach churn, keeping the possibility of having to duel her at some point open.

Tai had Ben pretty fairly matched for a few seconds—emphasis on seconds—before Ben knocked his lightsaber out of his hand and sent him tumbling to the ground. After being down for a few seconds, Tai staggered to his feet, muttering something along the lines of “Damn you, Solo.” The outcome of their scrimmage was no surprise, really. Ben was seasoned in combat, as well as an incredibly talented Force-user. You pitied anyone who should ever find themselves on the opposite end of his lightsaber.

Your relaxed demeanor was swiftly upended at the announcement of your name by Master Skywalker, summoning you to fight Hennix.

At least it’s only Hennix. Maybe it wouldn’t be as bad as you imagined.

Swallowing your nerves, you let your feet carry you to the patch of grass that had been determined as the boundaries until you found yourself standing a meter away from Hennix, your knuckles white as you clenched the hilt on your waist.

“Don’t worry, I’ll take it easy on you,” he said as he ignited his lightsaber, revealing a radiant, blue beam.

You unfastened the lightsaber from your belt, quickly thumbing for the ignition. “By all means, please don’t,” you replied coolly, scraping together the remnants of your confidence. With impeccable timing, you found the switch and ignited the blade, unveiling a bright, blue blade as well.

Where you had expected to feel intimidated by the lightsaber’s power, you felt calm. The laser’s energy passed through you, innervating your senses with a heightened awareness, as if it were an extension of yourself. Maybe Ben had been onto something that night in the forest.

The blade hummed in your ear as the two of you stood still for a moment, both waiting for the other to make the first move.

It’s now or never, you thought.

You stepped forward and brought your lightsaber up to swing it down, prompting Hennix to block your strike with a defensive swing.

“Yes, that’s good. Always start out on the offensive.” Ben’s voice entered your mind, but not as a memory. He had never said that to you before, only demonstrated it. His words were live, coming directly from his consciousness as he watched from the side.

As Hennix slid out from your attack and repositioned his feet, you tried to shake Ben's voice from your head and refocus on your opponent. Before you could calculate your next move, he brought his lightsaber down on you with an overhead slash, forcing you to stop it with your blade. You were leaning back, off-balance, and in a weaker position than you would’ve liked to have been.

“You have a size advantage on him. Duck out to his left, it’ll throw him off-balance.”

You did as you were told, deactivating your lightsaber and rolling to your right, disturbing Hennix’s balance and causing him to stagger forward.

Reactivating your lightsaber, you spun it beside you as you waited for him to turn around.

“Aim your next strike at his saber hilt.”

“I don’t need your help,” you said, reaching out to him in return. You weren’t sure if he would hear it, but you had bigger things to worry about at the moment.

Hennix turned towards you and closed the space you had put between you two, swinging his saber viciously at you as you narrowly jumped out of the way. You were distracted and it showed.

“Focus.”

You huffed. “Maybe I would be able to if I didn’t have you in my head.”

As you spun to face Hennix, your eyes caught Ben’s momentarily, finding that he was watching you intently, his arms crossed over his chest and his jaw flexed. Looks like he got my message.

Recovering your balance, you planted your feet firmly and adjusted your grip on your hilt, flexing your tense knuckles as you did. The familiar energy of the Force blanketed you like a salve, soothing your anxiety and steering your focus to the humming blade in your hand.

Your sabers collided once again, only this time, you were prepared. With a deep breath in, you slid your blade down his, crashing into the hilt. The motion was fast—too fast for him to react quickly. He leaned back as you pushed harder, his stance faltering as you exerted as much force against his weapon as you possibly could.

You had him in the perfect defensive position now. Inhaling a steady breath, you drew your blade back momentarily before chopping the base of his saber with a powerful strike, knocking it loose from his grip and extinguishing the laser.

There was little doubt in your mind that you would walk away from your first contest as a victor, yet here you were. Standing above Hennix’s fallen lightsaber was an unexpected thrill, sending intoxicating endorphins through you.

“That’s a match,” Master Skywalker announced, motioning for the both of you to leave the sparring boundaries before tapping his datapad screen.

You did so without hesitation, reclaiming your place beside Ben. Your enthusiasm quickly faded when you reached him, finding that he was intentionally avoiding your gaze. A heavy feeling plummeted through your chest.

After a few moments of shared silence, you finally spoke. “Well, that wasn’t too bad after all.”

A hmm was the only response you got from Ben, his attention still focused on the space in front of him.

What is he doing? you thought, suddenly anxious that you had said or done the wrong thing. It was as if his mood had flipped on its head, with no warning or explanation.

You pushed the anxiety rising in your chest down with a dry gulp before speaking again. “What, do you want me to outrightly say that you were right?” Your tone was more joking than it was serious in an attempt to ease the tension, but it was impossible to hide your growing unease.

“No,” he muttered quietly, his voice sharp.

Insecurity flooded your mind, washing away the remnants of pride from your victory. Was he mad at you? How could you make this better?

Before you allowed your thoughts to complete its hurtful game of twenty questions, you stopped yourself and turned your attention to the new competitors in the circle. If he was going to behave like this, you weren’t going to feed into it by continuing to ask questions.

You watched as the two students’ blades clashed in an eruption of energy, each of them working tirelessly to gain the upper hand on one another. Beside you, Ben watched as well, his arms still crossed and his focus unwavering.

“Your next fight won’t be as easy as it was with Hennix.”

You swiveled your head to face him, confusion etched into your face. “Excuse me?”

He turned his head slightly before responding, looking down at you in his periphery. “I said, your next fight won’t be as easy as it was with–”

“I heard what you said,” you snapped. “I’m more concerned with the silent treatment you’re giving me, and whatever…” You paused, waving a hand at him irritatedly. “This attitude is all about.”

He let out a low sigh and shook his head. “Silent treatment…” he whispered under his breath. “I’m focusing on the matches right now—something you should probably do as well.”

You scoffed. “What happened to the carefree, ‘I just want to get this over with’ Ben from ten minutes ago?”

He said nothing in response as he looked down at you, his dark eyes piercing yours for a long moment before returning to the fight in front of you two.

Not wanting to entertain this any further, you did the same, turning your attention just in time to catch the match’s end. What the fuck is his problem? you asked yourself, shifting your weight uncomfortably between your feet.

More matches ensued, each one similar in choreography and outcomes as the previous. You couldn’t help but wonder what you looked like while fighting, if you looked as rehearsed as the others did.

Stars, some idea this was. A tournament? Between possibly the most passively competitive group of people in the entire galaxy? Master Skywalker had to have known what he was doing when he organized this.

The shrinking number of participants was only amplifying your concern. As each match ended, the chances of you having to fight Voe were rapidly increasing.

As if on cue, Master Skywalker called Voe to the center once more. To your relief, your name did not follow hers, but rather Tai’s.

Poor bastard.

You watched as the two of them scrimaged for what felt like an eternity, each second passing at an agonizingly slow rate. When their match finally came to an end, Voe was once again declared the victor, causing your heart to beat violently in your chest.

The anticipation of hearing the next match pair weighed heavily on you, suffocating you as you took shallow breaths to soothe your nerves.

Just as Voe had started to walk outside of the boundaries, Master Skywalker held a hand up. “Stay put, Voe. You’re going to be in the next match, too.” He continued to scroll through the datapad, procuring the next competitors’ names.

To your utter horror, you were called.

Instinctually, you glanced up at Ben, hoping that despite his sour mood, he’d be able to assure you like he always did.

Surprisingly, he obliged.

“Do you want me to help this time?” he asked quietly, his voice still low, but softer than it had been just minutes ago.

“Um, yes, I think I’d like that.” If your body language hadn’t already given away your anxiety, then your tone certainly did.

He seemed to understand your apprehension given that a moment later, his voice was pushing into your mind once again.

“I’ll be here if you need anything. You’ve got this.”

You didn’t realize you hadn’t moved until he gently nudged you forward, rubbing a small circle on your back as he did. The touch was only noticeable to you, but you couldn’t help the sparks that erupted in your stomach at the gesture.

The hilt of your saber bounced against your waist as you stepped toward the makeshift arena, feeling like a lamb sentenced to the slaughter. A dramatic way to approach the situation, yes, but your concern was valid. Here you were, a relatively untrained Jedi pupil going toe-to-toe with someone who had spent their entire life dedicated to their craft, working tirelessly to be better than their peers. It was only natural for you to be scared. Voe had a plasma sword in her hand and a burning hatred for you in her heart.

But you had that same weapon in your hands. A defense, a lifeline. What you lacked in the latter aspect, you would make up for with your fortitude. Just moments ago, you had proven to yourself that you were a capable fighter against Hennix, and with the addition of Ben’s advice, there was a possibility that you could beat Voe as well.

When you reached the sparring circle, you looked up from the patch of dead grass, immediately finding your opponent’s stare.

She was visibly tired, something you could use to your advantage. Her green eyes burned dark, an indiscernible mixture of emotions raging behind her irises. Blonde hair was strewn haphazardly in her face, her braids no longer the tidy rows they once were. Frankly, she looked like shit.

“Unlike Hennix, I’m not going to promise to take it easy on you,” she spat, igniting her lightsaber on the last word.

You followed her lead, flicking your blade on and twirling the hilt lazily in your hand. “I didn’t expect you to.”

It was as if the very second you passed the threshold of the boundaries, confidence had been injected into your veins, possessing your body and filling your mind with brash hubris. Whether it was the adrenaline or the cortisol that was responsible for this transformation, you didn’t care. All you knew was you were going to fight her, and you were going to win.

You scrutinized Voe’s presentation, carefully analyzing every movement to glean insight on your opponent. From the slight tremor in her hand to the flaring of her nostrils, you could tell she was unfocused, unbalanced.

“She’s going to try to get the first strike in. Don’t let her.” Ben’s voice was clear and calm in your mind.

His advice came at just the right time with Voe adjusting her footing ever so slightly, something you had noted earlier that she did just before attacking.

Seizing the opportunity, you lunged forward, initiating what would prove to be a long-winded and fierce battle.

After a few long minutes, neither of you were letting up on your efforts, which must have been entertaining for the viewing pleasure of your peers, but was utterly draining to participate in.

Your knuckles were beginning to ache around the hilt of your saber, but you didn’t ease your grip out of fear of losing concentration.

“She’s not letting up, what the fuck do I do?” you said internally as you reached out to Ben. Other than his initial comment, he had been remarkably quiet throughout the fight.

Nothing came for several moments, leaving you to brace for another strike from Voe. This time, your eyes locked with hers, and in them you saw her unbridled anger.

“Just tell me when you’re ready to give up,” she snarled, pushing harder against your blade.

You resisted her efforts, letting out a stifled groan as you pushed back, your arms beginning to tire. Just as you were about to divert her blade to allow yourself a moment of rest, a voice broke through your consciousness, energizing you like a bolt of lightning.

“Tire her out. Hold this position for just a bit longer, then use the momentum of her force to roll backwards out of it.”

You broke concentration for a moment to look at Ben, shooting him a silent look that asked “are you sure?”

He nodded, a trace smile on his lips.

In preparation of a backwards roll, you adjusted your grip on your lightsaber and bent your knees slightly, relaxing your stance just enough to allow your balance to be influenced by the force of Voe’s attack.

She bared her teeth as she pushed harder against you, presenting you with an opportune moment to execute your plan. With your saber still ignited, you tucked your chin to your chest and folded your legs, reassuring yourself that you could do this before retracting your blade and falling backwards.

The break in momentum obliterated Voe’s balance, sending her stumbling forward as you rolled back and out of her path. After a complete rotation, you stopped yourself by clutching the ground in front of you as your other hand ignited your lightsaber once again.

Voe was noticeably enraged by your maneuver as she snapped her head to face you, lifting her blade above her head to bring down on you.

A smirk crept across your lips.

Before she could approach you, you leaped out of your crouched position and jumped toward her, gathering your remaining energy to swing your saber at hers. The force of your impact knocked her lightsaber from her grasp, sending it meters away as she landed harshly on her back.

Without thinking, you brought your lightsaber up once more to bring it down on her, but the sound of your Master’s voice caught you.

“That’s enough!” Master Skywalker called out as he stepped into the space between the two of you.

What the fuck are you doing? you asked yourself, staring at your glowing blade before quickly retracting it. Were you really about to attack your unarmed opponent?

Your chest heaved as you tried to collect yourself, sorting through everything that had just happened in the last twenty seconds. Shame washed over you.

As you turned to leave the sparring circle, a hand clutched your wrist, stopping you in place. For some reason, you had half expected it to be Voe’s, but when you looked, it was Master Skywalker’s gloved hand. His grip was seemingly tighter than anything you had felt before.

You avoided his gaze as you turned to face him.

“Hey, kid,” he said quietly, releasing your wrist. His tone wasn’t upset or angry, but rather concerned. “Is everything alright? I can see that there’s something going on between you two. I didn’t realize–”

“No—everything’s okay,” you said unconvincingly. The last thing you needed was for him to investigate any further. “I think that I just got caught up in everything, I’m sorry.”

He smiled at you, his gray eyes creasing in the corners. “It’s okay. It’s normal for things like this to get intense. We’ll work on overcoming it in future training sessions, but besides that, you’re doing great.”

Something warm bubbled in your chest. It was the first time he had outrightly given you positive feedback. In every previous lesson—meditative or combative—his feedback had always been constructive. Not to say it was necessarily all negative, but it was never as simple as the validation you had just received.

“Thank you, Master,” you replied with a nod, suppressing the smile forming on your lips.

“Of course. And don’t go too far. You made it to the championship round, so you’ll be fighting the winner of this next match,” he explained.

You blinked at him. “Who’s in the next match?” The question was hardly necessary given that the participant pool was narrowed down to just you and two others now.

The ground beneath you seemed to shift as Master Skywalker scrolled through the datapad before announcing that the next match would be between Ben and Cassus. In all honesty, you almost didn’t hear the second name get mentioned as all of your senses became dull, blurring your vision and deafening you to your surroundings.

Are you seriously going to have a panic attack over this? There’s no guarantee that he’ll even win, you thought to yourself as you tried to focus on taking deep breaths in through your nose and exhaling through your mouth.

You stepped away from the sparring circle, realizing how ridiculous you must look to everyone else. While you had masked your panic well, you should’ve moved aside by now and allowed the next match to begin, instead of loitering in the like a petrified statue.

As you left, Ben stepped into the circle, offering you a reassuring smile as he passed by. While the gesture was kind, you’d still pick fighting Cassus over Ben any day of the week. Especially since Cassus was telling the entire Academy that you were his next conquest. You’d gladly put him in his place.

The two men stood across from each other, their weapons ignited and ready to strike. Nausea rolled through your stomach as you forced yourself to watch their blades collide.

Less than a minute in, you had to pull your eyes away, the heartbeat pounding in your ears becoming too much to bear.

You crouched to the ground as if you were trying to keep your muscles warm and closed your eyes, focusing on the energy surrounding you.

The Force fell over you like a warm blanket, a familiar comfort—similar to a hug from an old friend. It demanded your attention, pulling you out of your anxiety and into its embrace.

The energy vibrating between every life form thrummed around you, each heartbeat overlapping until everything went silent. A different sensation was calling to you.

Something icy clawed at your consciousness, its tenor angry and violent. You recognized it as being the same dark energy that had infiltrated your mind in the forest, the same power that had cracked the Kath hound’s neck.

Just before it could pull you further, you sucked in a sharp breath and ripped your eyes open, flooding your vision with the blinding daylight. You were still for a moment as you glanced around, hoping your quiet gasp had gone noticed by your peers. Luckily, all eyes were trained on the match as the two competitors fought relentlessly.

Why did the darkness continue to call to you? Its persistence was worrisome, as well as your dwindling ability to withstand it.

But you couldn’t dwell on it at the moment.

After brushing the pieces of dry grass from your knees and hands, you stood to your feet, only to find that Ben, unsurprisingly, had the upper hand on Cassus.

Barely a moment later, Ben had disarmed his opponent. Your stomach flipped at the reality in front of you. You were locked into a match with him.

As he turned to offer Cassus a helping hand off the ground, his eyes caught yours, sending burning electricity through your veins.

“I’ll hold up my end of the promise, princess.”

Although intangible, his words seemed genuine, and were just the cue you needed to step into the circle.

“Are you still going to give me advice?” you said through the invisible field between you two.

“Maybe. But I’m not going to give you an easy win.” He smirked on the last word, tightening his grip on the deactivated lightsaber in his hand. You knew that in any other match he would’ve already ignited his blade, his hesitation revealing more to you than he probably realized.

With Cassus now out of the fighting boundaries, there was nothing prohibiting the two of you starting. You reached for your saber, fingers trembling slightly as you pushed the ignition up, releasing the bright blade.

Ben’s saber was angled down and to his side when it lit up, a stark contrast to your ready position.

The sight of his ignited saber in front of you was disturbing to say the least. His weapon had always seemed so elegant, more nuanced than everyone else’s. But seeing it now, it looked just like the rest: a lethal plasma blade. How could this be the same saber that you had admired from afar so many times? The same saber that you had the privilege of holding and studying during your late-night rendezvous. In reality, that saber was nothing more than a weapon of destruction.

Dear air hung between the two of you as you both stood impossibly still, neither wanting to take the first swing. If you didn’t start soon, it was going to look suspicious.

A familiar voice called out from the sideline. “What’s the matter, Solo? Afraid to hit your little girlfriend?” Her taunt was followed by a quiet chorus of laughter from the group.

So much for seeming inconspicuous.

Your eyes darted to Voe immediately, bouncing between hers and Ben’s as your mind raced.

“Just ignore her. Make the first move.” Ben instructed you, taking a step closer to you.

“Fine. But only because you insisted.”

As you were about to close the distance between you to strike, something occurred to you. Were there rules in this tournament? And if so, was using the Force to your advantage against them?

You jumped towards your devilishly handsome opponent, suppressing the surge of nerves that erupted in your stomach at the parallel memory of sparring with him under the ambient light of the training droids in the forest.

Your blade clashed against his, but it was short lived. He pushed back with ease, knocking your blade aside.

In his eyes, you saw a shift—something only noticeable to you. It was reminiscent of the darkness that filled his gaze when he would watch you undress for him, or the time you knelt before him in the shower.

Just as quickly as it had appeared, it was washed away as he swung his saber down on you, forcing you to block his attack in a defensive position.

Of course he was going to get the upper hand on you in a matter of seconds, what did you think was going to happen? You had foolishly believed that he would take it easier on you than everyone else. Although, by his standards, this might have been merciful.

Left without any better option, you drew from his earlier advice and ducked and rolled out of his attack, landing a few meters away from him. The move was becoming a signature play for you.

Despite your efforts, you had barely disturbed his balance, his large frame just as steady as it had been before.

“Nice move.”

You flashed him a quick smile as you stood up. “Thanks, I learned from the best.”

His eyes darkened again, filling with the same indiscernible emotion from moments ago as he crossed the ground toward you, swinging his blade at you. This time, you met his strike midway, pushing against his blade with all your strength.

Without thinking, you released a hand from your grip and held it out, directing the Force around you against his blade.

In your periphery, you saw his brows furrow as he watched you with apparent curiosity.

The pressure of the energy pulled the plasma of the blade backwards, morphing its linear shape into something you had never seen before. By the look on Ben’s face, he hadn’t either.

He reached a hand up to do the same to your blade, suspending the beam midair with the Force.

Slowly, both of your hands crept closer, the redirected energy of the Force becoming more tense as the space between you dwindled. Words evaded you as you looked at Ben with wide eyes.

“What’s happening?” you asked, equal parts fascinated and frightened.

“I don’t–”

Before he could complete his answer, the energy trapped between you melded together, transforming into a pulsating force that threatened to knock either one of you backwards.

If one of us is going to fall on our ass, it’s not going to be me, you thought to yourself, pushing harder against the current.

Ben did the same in response, his focus trained on the conjunction of energy as he twisted his hand in a display of effort.

Holding this power was becoming a burden. A fiery sensation spread down your wrist and forearm, causing your hand to shake uncontrollably.

Without warning, the energy erupted, hurling you both backwards through the air.

A fraction of a second later, the back of your head smacked into the hard ground, sending radiating pain shooting down your neck. Your ears rang and your vision was filled with fuzzy, white dots as you opened your eyes and pushed yourself up on your elbows.

Ben was meters away from you in a similar state, rolling onto his side and shaking the bits of grass from his black hair.

Master Skywalker was crouched beside you in an instant, his voice distant as he repeated your name, trying to get a response from you.

“Can you hear me?” he said above you, his voice characterized by a tone of concern you had never heard from him before.

“Yeah, I can hear you. I’m okay,” you answered, wincing as you propped yourself up into a sitting position. “What about Ben? Is he okay?”

“I’m sure he’s fine. It’s not him I’m worried about.” Master Skywalker helped you up to a standing position, his hands hovering beneath your arms in case you should collapse back onto the ground.

“Why not?” you asked, your tone sharper than it should have been with your Master.

Brushing past the students that had gathered around the scene, you marched towards Ben, wincing at the jolts of pain that ran up your legs with every step.

To your surprise, Ben was already standing, rubbing the back of his head gingerly as he watched you near him. Tai and Hennix were beside him, whispering between themselves in conversation.

“Are you okay?” you asked him quietly as you stopped in front of him, trying to find the right distance between the two of you to stand.

Truthfully, you wanted nothing more than to throw your arms around him and be held tightly in return, but that was far from the realm of possibilities right now. So, you left a comfortable gap between the two of you.

“I think I’ll survive,” he said with a light chuckle. His smile faded as he looked down at your lips. “You’re bleeding…” he said, gently swiping his thumb across your bottom lip.

When he pulled it away, there was a thin sheen of crimson blood on it, verifying his statement.

“I-I’m fine,” you stuttered, reaching up to touch the same spot. Iron-rich blood permeated past your lips and spread over your tongue, filling your mouth with its pungent taste.

You locked eyes with him, noticing the stretch of his pupils and the intensity of his gaze. Either he was amused, or he was severely concussed—you couldn’t tell.

Before you could study it further, Master Skywalker’s gruff voice derailed your train of thought as he appeared behind you, startling you by placing a hand on yours and Ben’s shoulders.

“Come on, let’s get you both to the infirmary.”

45 notes · View notes

capuletangel · 2 years

Text

Slow burn? No, no. You misunderstand. I write crockpot romance.

We're not done mutually pining until everything's good and tender and everyone's ravenous.

27K notes · View notes

capuletangel · 2 years

Photo

Clyde Logan breathing. Share if you agree.

630 notes · View notes

capuletangel · 2 years

Text

132K notes · View notes

capuletangel · 2 years

Text

Slow Like Honey

Word Count: 3377

Story Summary: Ben Solo falls into a deep obsession with the local new baker, and Ben always gets what he wants.

Tags: DEAD DOVE; Stalking, Obsession, Creepy Ben Solo, Non-Con, Bittersweet Fluff, Misogyny, Major Character Death, Dark Themes, Violence and Eventual Smut. AFAB.

Also Posted To AO3 | Wattpad

Masterlist

A/N - Trying to pop out as many chapters as I can before I go to University in September… wish me luck. (Kinda weird mentioning Christmas in August… but anyway hope you like this chapter!) <3

Chapter Seven; Ain’t I Good To You

Ben had never been a morning person. Repeatedly waking up in a mood, because of his stiff bed and scratchy sheets, or the sound of his mother thumping on the hardwood floors.

He'd grimace, shift over and clamp his teeth together to get his temper under control; it never worked.

The worst pain of all was waking up alone, when he could have been curled up with her. The right side of his bed was cold and barren, and had been for too long seeing by the dip on his side of the bed.

He had a flat pillow on his side of the bed and a plump, fresh one on the other.

The realisation had his heart sinking with a peculiar feeling. Like someone was holding it, and not letting it go.

There's nothing that matters to him in those moments, except her. Wicked thoughts would tempt him with their bitter sweet graces, but Ben knew it wasn't right.

So he fought them, for months and months, grinding, fighting for her. So that she could see who he was. How kind he was. He never did it in his previous relationships, always pushed too hard or moved too fast and it scared them — drove them away — yet they never got far.

Ben has learnt from his mistakes, like a true, good man does, and his persistence has been honoured with the ultimate trophy.

Her.

She's coiled around him, intertwined with him. Limbs enmeshed together, so she can draw him closer, her face is pressed into Ben's chest, breathing in his essence like he is the only person who matters — the only man she needs.

Ben's chin is tucked on the top of her head, keeping her safe, and Ben has never felt so free.

Her sheets aren't scratchy or aggravating, the mattress soft enough for him to lie open and still be comfortable, and Ben is far from alone.

She stirs, sighing and stretching as she wakes, body shuddering against his. Head delving further into him, which Ben takes with overwhelming pride, gloating to himself. Her breathing hitches and he untucks his chin to see what she looks like.

Her hair is laid out across the pillow in an unruly manner, eyes flickering open — puffy from slumber, and her face is already flushed. For him. She glances up at him through her eyelashes and Ben waits for her to speak.

"Hello."

Ben's face split into a grin, muffling laughter at the soothing murmur of her voice, husky with sleep. Her eyebrows furrowed, vision focusing at the top of his head. "What? What is it?"

Her hand detached from his shirt and she moved backwards to get a better view of him and whatever she was staring at.

Ben could have whimpered from the loss of contact, wanting to fasten his arm around her waist and draw her back in.

"Your hair is a mess." She reached up, moving her hand through his hair with a touch so delicate and tentative it made a shiver erupt down his spine.

"Speak for yourself, kid." Ben's voice didn't come out nearly as strong as he intended it to, suppressed by the power she had over him.

Each piece of hair she smoothed down had his breath slowing and heart thumping. Eyes fluttering as she continues, even though he’s sure she doesn’t need to, scalp tickling with a pleasure that made his loins constrict.

Her nurturing touch that he’d dreamt of for so long. He was watching through heavy eyes as she pulled away. She propped herself up on her elbows, smoothing a hand over her own hair, and gazed past Ben.

Her tongue pressed against her cheek, mouth twitching with what Ben assumed was hesitation. She settled her sights back onto him and smiled. Ben thought he might melt right there.

“Thank you for last night.”

“What do you mean?”

“The-The thunder. It seems stupid for a grown woman to be afraid of a storm... but we don’t really get them in Seattle, despite all the rain. I’ve never... coped well with them. So, thank you. For being nice. N-Not like you’re not normally nice, you are but-“

Ben cut her off of her rambling, with a gentle hand on her shoulder. “Hey, it’s okay. I would never judge you. You can always be open with me, you know?”

Her gaze softened, listening to his words with parted lips, watching him with equal admiration.

Her eyes flickered down to his lips and Ben certainly didn’t miss the linger of her gaze, the seduction. This is what she wanted, someone to hold her with care, listen to her and understand her completely, without judgement. Ben would — he does.

Ben knows her, knows just what she wants, and he was going to give it to her.

The tension was penetrable, thickening the air and making it hard to breathe. He rolled his tongue over his teeth, tempted to let impatience get the better of him and press their mouths together, lust begging to take charge of Ben’s mind.

To take her even if she didn’t want it. Listen to her squeal in surprise and flinch as Ben would memorise the feeling of her soft lips against his own, feel her quivering breath.

Patience.

Ben fought against himself, knowing it’d be worth it. In the long run.

He didn’t want to ruin what they had — ruin this. He wanted this to go on forever, have her safe in his embrace, have her pressed against him because she wanted to be there. Because she wanted him.

Have her see exactly who he was. Have her see what he can do. A man willing to lose it all, just so he had her. He’d help her. Has helped her.

But moments like this were hard. The first of many. The fact he could test her limits — but good things didn’t come effortlessly. Not for people like him. True romantics. He’d seen it before. In literature and film. Ben was just one of those guys.

She liked that about him. He’d seen it.

It felt like minutes, if not an hour, as time moved at a painfully tedious pace.

To Ben’s chagrin, her eyes shifted and so did she, pulling herself upright against the headboard.

The blush which travelled down to her neck told Ben he wasn’t delusional about her feelings, but it didn’t make the ache in his chest dissipate any quicker.

“Thank you... It means a lot.” Her eyes darted around her apartment, avoiding eye contact with him, picking at the quilt between her fingers.

Ben couldn’t help but pout, wondering if it was him who should have made the move, if he should’ve followed through with his thoughts, if he should’ve acted. But she didn’t seem like the type to enjoy that. Ben needed to give her the control, at first.

He couldn’t scare her away. Not when he’d gotten so far.

“Of course.”

She returned his stare once again, but shifted her sight back and forth to his eyes and to the lamp next to him. “Do you have work today?”

No. But he had a problem to take care of.

“Yeah, unfortunately.” He stretched his hands out past his head, pleased with how she looked at his muscles. Ranch work had its benefits. “You?”

“Yeah — oh!”

The raise in volume from her usual tone made Ben flinch, watching as she hopped out of bed and padded over to the kitchen, staring at the calendar tied to the window handle. He wanted to drag her back.

“It’s the twenty-third. Christmas eve tomorrow... I forgot — well, until just now.”

Christmas. Ben’s mind was so fogged up with her, he barely remembered the month they were in. He wasn't doing anything, he never had. Not since he was a child. It’d be a celebration though, he’d make sure of it.

“Are you doing anything nice?”

He could see something circled in red on the calendar — he wondered if she’d spend time with him if he asked. If she’d like that. He’d make it special for her, get her gifts and cook for her. She’d blush and smile. Ben would make sure it was perfect. Just for her.

“Um, just festive bits for the bakery today and tomorrow, but I’m going to the hospice to see dad on Christmas day.”

His heart shrank. Of course, she wouldn’t want to spend Christmas with him. She had a family — people mattered to her. Ben couldn’t relate. Didn’t want to. Not when he had her; she was the only person he needed. Ben would teach her that. She’d see.

Ben didn’t miss how her eyes would glaze over at the mention of her father, how her voice would disconnect from his words, like she had to hide her feelings from Ben. She’d learn that she didn’t have to.

“You can take the Galette home, if you want?”

“You’re sure?” He watched her as she packed it away into a box.

“Mhm, I made it for you.”

Just for him.

The words made his inside swell, tightening his hands into fists to avoid the immediate reaction that wanted to push through. Taking a deep breath, willing the flush on his cheeks to fade.

This would become ritualistic. She’d bake for him, maybe even before work. Small things that she’d pack away for him to eat at lunchtime. She’d be there for him — love him.

She’d love him so much that she wouldn’t know what to do with it, and he’d get cocky. He’d see it every time she looked at him. He’d press a kiss to her cheek and say that he wouldn’t be long before leaving. They’d crave each other.

Ben rose from his spot, walking over to where she was and taking it, letting his hand brush against her own, before putting it on the counter. Her face contorted in confusion, but then warmth, as he wrapped his arms around her.

She was so small in his arms. So vulnerable. Just for him.

An exhale brushed his chest, one of relief or shock; Ben was happy with either. Letting his touch engulf her, his breath tickling against her crown. It took a moment before she joined, arms wrapping against his waist. Head buried in his shirt.

Warmth wrapped around them both, a dull squeezing around his loins as her body pressed against him. Serenity. Resting his cheek on her head as he held onto her, thumb rubbing circles into her back.

The grass was indeed greener on the other side — this was only just the beginning, and they both knew it. He was content with the pace. Knowing it’s gotten him here, with her. With his girl.

She hummed into him, nodding, and it vibrated through him. It wouldn’t be long. He searched for an excuse to stay, to linger. His head struggled to search for words.

“What are you doing on New Year’s?”

She pulled away, looking up at him with those eyes. That look that made his blood pump faster. Dazed, just like he wanted. It’d be even better when she got on her knees for him.

“Nothing.” A smile formed and her eyebrow quivered. “Why?”

“Um, it’s just… Over by the lake, they have fireworks. Thought you might — I mean, I was wondering if you’d maybe want to… come with me?”

Now Ben was the one blushing, cheeks hot with unease. He hoped she would say yes — prayed, in fact. There was nothing more powerful than starting the new year with her at his side.

Her hands pulled back, but she stayed close, not once breaking eye contact.

“Of course, I’d — I’d like that.”

“Oh, good — I mean, nice. That��d be nice.” Really, really nice. “I’ll see you soon,” he murmured.

The entire drive home, Ben was ticking with excitement. He couldn’t stop smiling to himself. People probably thought he was insane as they drove past.

No one liked it when he was happy. Acted like it was unnecessary.

Ben had her, and she would always have him.

A date. Underneath fireworks. Ben had been good. No matter how tempted he’d been, he had stuck to his morals and built his way up. And the reward was sweet on his tongue, though uncomfortable on his jeans.

Still sticky with his spend from the night before, creating an irritating chafe on his groin. It’d be better suited inside of her — leaving her a part of himself — but he was a good guy. He’d always known he was. That he could be.

Besides, the mess in his jeans reminded him of how he’d protected her — he didn’t need to rush or get physical. Ben had control. Just needed to learn. He’s only human.

His grip on the steering wheel was tight, knuckles turning pale from the pressure.

Of course, he was doing this for her. To protect her. Keep her safe from danger. From men like Hux. Ben would do anything for her and he was going to prove it.

He was going to cut out the tumour. Extract the parasite.

It needed to be done.

People wouldn’t agree, people would think he was sick — deranged. But she wouldn’t, she would understand. He’d make her. Danger lied underneath, even in the clearest waters, and luckily for her, Ben knew that.

He’d known ever since he’d seen that head of ginger hair for the first time, he’d gotten that feeling people talked about. Deep in his gut. Something that encouraged bile to rise up his throat, burning his oesophagus.

Now he had all the proof he needed. It was justified.

If he didn’t do it, then Hux would continue to hurt her — continue to plague the ground she walked on — the ground Ben had worked so hard to protect, and he couldn’t have that. He was so close to getting what he wanted.

Hux would get too close. And he’d never understand what Ben wanted. Sick people never did. He’d only see what he wants to see, he wouldn’t see what Ben was doing for his sweet, sweet girl. His person. Ben didn’t share.

He didn’t want to hurt him. Ben wasn’t insane. He wasn’t some sick sadist that enjoyed pain. He just wanted to make sure she was safe and if that meant inflicting pain on Hux, he would do it for her.

Ben wasn’t selfish.

Planning wasn’t the easiest task, though. They made it seem like a simple task in books and movies, clear. But that just wasn’t the case, not factual in the slightest. In reality, it was difficult. He had to be critical, unbiased.

Had to remain stoic and level-headed, instead of becoming overwhelmed with emotion.

God, was it hard. Especially when he saw the cloud of orange in-front of the barn. Grinding his jaw to calm the storm. It’d be okay if he kept his cool.

Cutting off the ignition and climbing out of the truck, without taking the Galette which sat on the passenger seat, wiping his hands on his jeans and digging them into his pockets to hide the quake in his wrists.

This was the man that frightened what was his — the man who imposed himself onto the property that only belonged to Ben. His. Not Hux’s. Ben didn’t have time to let Armitage learn. He didn’t have any room for his co-worker.

If Ben thought his patience was running short before, it was nothing compared to now. Now he felt like a pot about to boil over.

He had to be smart about this.

For her.

Hux was sawing wood, pathetically, body bent in a hunched posture and bearing his weight down onto the table. It took him twice the amount of time it’d take Ben.

“Hux?”

His head turned at the calling of his surname, face just as angry and displeased as usual. Eyebrows knitted together, expecting Ben to scold him for not cleaning the machinery like he usually would — Ben wouldn’t have to worry about that anymore.

He’d hire a more competent worker; one that wasn’t only hired because of Han sympathising over his father, Brendol’s, death.

No, he’d get someone respectful, someone who cared about Ben’s authority.

“Solo.” His voice was as uninterested as ever, filled with distaste. He’d learn. Ben would show him just how powerful he was. Hux should know better.

“Can you give me a hand? Need to carry some tools up from the house.” Ben waved his hands in front of him. “But, don’t have enough hands.”

Sure, he could’ve thought of something better, like asking him to help fix the boat and just hitting him over the head, dropping him in the lake. But he wanted to get something out of it. Wanted him to hear Ben out.

See the fear in his eyes.

Hux let out a huff, quirking an eyebrow, “I’m supposed to help you. Why?”

“I am your damn boss, aren’t I?”

He paled a bit, looking down at the half sawn wood and shrugging. “Fine.” He brushed sweat off of his forehead with the back of his palm after leaving the bench. “But don’t complain if I ain’t finished my work in time.”

“It’ll only take a moment.” You’ll be out like a light in five.

His co-worker trailed behind him, feet sweeping up the wet mud and spraying it up Ben’s trouser legs. Ben allowed it, thought he might as well allow him one more minute of freedom.

“What’s this for?”

“Have to repair the milking machine.” Ben lied, making his way up the steps and cringing at each creak. Wondered what she’d think — if she’d like his home, if she’d move in.

He’d redecorate for her. Always did hate the wallpaper. His mother’s taste had always been awful. She could choose. He’d let her.

And he could have her anytime he wanted.

He’d come home to her cooking. She would have baked whilst he ploughed the fields, and then he’d lean her over the counter and take her there. Jeans pulled halfway down his legs, her skirt hiked up.

“I thought you fixed it a while ago?”

“Broke again.”

Hux grumbled under his breath, saying how he might as well just buy another one, and Ben couldn’t fight off his smirk. Idiot.

He lead Hux to the basement, ignoring the whine which sounded as he pushed open the door.

The bulb above the stairs swung as he pulled on the cord, fluttering before it lit up and sung a low buzzing noise. Heavy steps echoed off of the concrete walls, wood crackling under both of their weights.

He walked to the far left, looking over his shoulder at Hux, “I think the other tools are behind you — under the workbench.”

When he had followed Ben’s instructions, Ben clutched the wrench which sat on the shelf, splattered with dried liquid.

“I can’t find them—” his breath hitched, and Ben watched as his feet shuffled backwards. “Holy shit. Is that blood—” It was when Hux turned around that he struck.

He’s dizzy with anger when he sees the perplexed expression on Hux’s face and it only fuels his muscles to work harder.

Teeth formed into a snarl as he flung the side of the metal into his temple, incapacitating him with the force. Watching as he crumpled to the floor in a heap, out cold.

Ben can’t seem to take his eyes away from the blood gushing from the wound on Hux’s head, how it bleeds out onto his hair, and then onto the floor. Pooling, mixing with the dirt and dust.

His vision tunnels. He just can’t look away. He’ll be concussed when he wakes up, confused, and it could last long-term, not like he’ll be around long enough for it to matter.

Ben hums a tune under his breath, one he’d had playing in the car, and he heaves Hux’s scrawny body up from the floor, careful to not step in the blood, and placing him on the chair in the back.

It’s still set up from the last time, meaning Ben only has to fiddle with the chains before he clasps them around his ankles and wrists. Not like Hux could escape, anyway. Probably couldn’t even run in a straight line.

Ben backs away, staring at the sight in front of him, and his eyes soften.

So, this is love.

#adcu community #adcu fanfiction #adcu smut #ben solo fanfiction #ben solo x reader #ben solo x you #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #dead dove #dead dove do not eat

132 notes · View notes

capuletangel · 2 years

Photo

ADAM DRIVER The Blackkklansman (2018) Dir. Spike Lee part 2 - requested by @lumberjack00fantasies

316 notes · View notes

capuletangel · 2 years

Text

81K notes · View notes

capuletangel · 2 years

Text

“We are honored to announce WHITE NOISE by Noah Baumbach, starring Adam Driver and Greta Gerwig will be the opening film of the 79th Venice Film Festival 🎥✨.”

Credit- Twitter/@whitenoisefilm

79 notes · View notes

capuletangel · 2 years

Text

5 things your character can't do while speaking

Choke. Just think about it, seriously. Think about what choking is and imagine speaking while it’s happening. That would fuckin’ hurt, man.

Hiss. Look, it’s just not possible, okay? No matter how “evil” you want your character to seem.

Snarl. Animals snarls. The Beast from Beauty and the Beast snarls. The Hulk snarls. You know who doesn’t snarl? PEOPLE WHEN THEY’RE SPEAKING.

Shriek. Come on, 99% of the time, “shriek” is not the word you want.Let’s face it: if you put an exclamation point at the end of the sentence, your reader gets the picture. Don’t bring to mind banshees and screaming toddlers.

Sneer. I’m not even going to bother explaining this one. “SNEER” ISN’T EVEN A SOUND.

137K notes · View notes

capuletangel · 2 years

Text

Slow Like Honey Masterlist

Read on AO3 | Read on Wattpad

Pairing: Ben Solo/Kylo Ren x Reader (No Y/N).

Story Summary: Ben Solo falls into a deep obsession with the local new baker. She fuels something within him; lust, obsession and delusion. Ben will stop at nothing to get her for himself, even if it means he’ll have to kill for her. Ben will always get what he wants.

Inspired by the TV show and book YOU (this is not a retelling), and the song Slow Like Honey by Fiona Apple.

Tags: DEAD DOVE. Stalking, Obsession, Creepy Ben Solo, Non-Con, Bittersweet Fluff, Misogyny, Character Death, Dark Themes, Violence and Eventual Smut. AFAB. Slow burn.

This is a Modern AU, with Star Wars characters.

—

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

#adcu community #adcu fanfiction #adcu smut #ben solo fanfiction #ben solo x reader #ben solo x you #dead dove #dead dove do not eat #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you #kylo ren masterlist #ben solo masterlist

156 notes · View notes

capuletangel · 2 years

Text

Like Phantoms, Forever

Chapter Ten | Make Better Choices

Pairing: Ben Solo/Kylo Ren x Reader

What to expect: fluff, violence, sexual content, general angst, mentions/descriptions of injury and death

Additional info: this story is set in 28 ABY, six years prior to the events of TFA

*concurrently being published on AO3 and Wattpad as well!

Masterlist

Spotify Playlist

Word count: 6.2k

A/N: I can't believe we're already on chapter 10! I just wanted to say that this is the first fic I've ever written and I was so afraid to share it, so I am eternally thankful for all of your kindness and support! The story is really only getting started and I'm more excited than ever to share it with you guys ♡

───────── ⋆ ☆ ⋆ ─────────

The tile was cool against your back, yet still not cold enough to ease the acid churning in your stomach, threatening to spill over. Anxiety consumed you, each thought racing by like stars passing at hyperspeed. Despite the humidity, your mouth was completely arid, your throat knocking as you attempted to swallow your heartbeat rising in your throat.

This can’t actually be happening, can it? This has to be some sort of waking nightmare, an extremely vivid one at that.

The woman who you considered to be your best friend—if you could even call her that anymore—bumping into the man whose dick you had just gagged on. The same man who was apparently her sworn enemy here at the Academy. All of this chaos unfolding just meters away from you as you clung to a shower wall, desperately hoping your presence would go unnoticed.

Truly, there was no worse punishment for your illicit affair than whatever circle of hell you were currently enduring.

“Ben? What the hell are you doing here?” she asked in what could only be described as the most bile-inducing cadence. There was such vitriol behind her words, despite it being a relatively simple question.

“Why do you care?”

You furrowed your brows at Ben’s tone—low and laced with tangible distaste. Part of you had expected him to be equally as surprised to run into Voe here, to share your concern of being caught and tattled on by a third party. All things considered, it made sense that you were the only one that was worried—he had no reason to believe that Voe was privy to your relations.

She snapped at him. “Oh, I don’t care, Solo. I was just under the assumption that you were in time-out this week.” Her emphasis on the word was mocking, as if she hadn’t been assigned to the same punishment just weeks ago.

“Time-out? Really? That’s a bit childish, don’t you think?”

The door finally slammed shut, sealing the three of you inside like a tomb. It might as well have been one.

“I’d say it's no less childish than sneaking around the school grounds with your toy.”

There was that word again: toy. An object of infatuation for a fleeting moment, ultimately destined to be abandoned with the others that once held the same appeal.

A twinge in your gut was your only physical reaction to her implication.

To your surprise, Ben was silent—either lost for words or searching his mind for longer than usual. As it turned out, it was the latter.

“It must feel good, to finally feel like you have something over me. To finally feel like you’re my equal.”

A quiet breath caught in your throat. As you registered his words, they rattled around your skull.

You felt like an intruder listening in on a conversation you weren’t meant to hear. You supposed you weren’t meant to hear it, really. Hearing Ben talk to someone that way was alarming, to say the least.

Your curiosity was intolerable, morphing from a petty intrigue into a biting demand requiring resolution. Whatever had happened between these two, you were going to unearth it—regardless of the cost.

This demand was paired with something else as well: guilt. While you had gleaned from conversations with both of them that their relationship was rocky, to put it lightly, you doubted that your presence in their lives was making the situation any better.

“I am your equal,” she snarled. “Now, get the fuck out of my way.”

Ben was silent, with only the sound of her pushing past him following. Her heavy footsteps were rapidly approaching the shower stalls.

Adrenaline pumped through your veins in preparation of her discovering you. How stupid were you? This is what you get for thinking with your heart instead of your head.

You braced yourself against the wall, your eyes squeezed tight in prayer. To any higher power that may be listening, I promise that if you spare me from Voe’s wrath, I will make better choices in the future. Please, I beg of you, save me from an untimely death at the end of her lightsaber.

The sound of a curtain ripping open rang throughout the corridor, causing you to flinch. Opening your eyes felt like an impossible task, as if to do so would require pliers to pry them apart—somehow still a more pleasant situation than the one you found yourself in.

You lost count of how many beats passed as you stood there, eyes shut and body stiff as you waited for Voe’s lithe hands to grab your neck and squeeze the blood from every vein and capillary supplying your brain, smothering your life force into oblivion.

But it never came. The only change in the atmosphere was the shrill squeak of a faucet turning on.

You opened your eyes, immediately finding that you were still alone in the stall, the faucet still turned tight. You blinked away the haze in your vision, reality becoming more clear with every passing second.

The shower adjacent to you had started, the stall slowly filling with steam. The invisible hand that had been clutching your heart released its grip, allowing blood to once again flow freely to your tissues as warmth returned to your skin.

Voe yanked the curtain shut behind her, kicking off her shoes into the space outside the stall.

“And Ben,” she called out over the running water, “don’t forget to take your little girlfriend’s boots with you.”

Shit.

You looked down at your feet as if your boots would magically reappear if you willed them to. Then, you saw it, the faint outline of them through the shower curtain, taunting you from outside.

It felt like a kick to your chest, all of the air in your lungs escaping through your parted lips.

“You’re going to have to try harder than that if you want to scare me.” Ben’s voice echoed as the door closed behind him, leaving you to simmer in the ambient sound of the shower running.

“Fucking asshole,” she muttered, her low voice still full of vitriol.

You felt like a caged animal, unwillingly trapped in an enclosure. Neither of the two options available to you were particularly appealing: outlasting Voe or making an escape. While both were nerve-inducing, one was certainly less soggy and miserable than the other.

Plucking up what was left of your courage, you tore yourself from the wall and cautiously inched towards the laminate barrier, the last thing protecting you from the wrath of Voe. Your pulse hammered your ears, deafening you to the sound of water splashing against tiles.

Slowly, you slid the curtain back, causing the hooks to screech against the aluminum rod. You grit your teeth at the sound, abruptly stopping your movements.

You ducked behind the remaining coverage of the curtain, dreading a reaction from her. It’s not like you could just use the Force either to lift the hooks off the metal, as she would undoubtedly sense the activity.

Carefully, you tugged at the curtain again, wincing with every noise the metal hooks made. After a few moments, you had cleared enough room to poke your head out. Upon first glance, you found that the room was in the same condition as earlier, besides the newly occupied shower.

You can do this, you assured yourself as you released a tense exhale through your nose before slipping out into the chamber.

The ground was slick beneath your feet, your wet socks gliding freely over the cold tile. The last thing you needed to do right now was slip and fall—although, you were sure that Voe wouldn’t be too upset to hear that you had cracked your skull open on the tile floor. You tightened your center to steady yourself, your arms whirling midair to regain your balance.

Before taking off towards the door, you snatched your boots off of the ground, gripping onto the gray cloth as if your life depended on it.

The distance between you and the doorway seemed to stretch longer as you rushed towards it, paranoia looming over you like a dark cloud of horror.

After what felt like an eternity, you reached the door and gripped the handle like a lifeline, relishing in the promise of freedom beyond it.

As you turned the knob, Voe’s voice cut through the dead air.

She chirped your name like a cruel serenade. “Make sure you grab your shoes on the way out, doll.”

Bile burned your throat as you slammed the door shut, guilt rolling over you in heavy waves. This was all your fault—you were the one who told her about you and Ben. You had inadvertently caused the very thing that you feared. How were you supposed to tell Ben this? How could he forgive you for breaking your promise in such a short time?

In the same breath, how dare he withhold pertinent information about Voe and him from you? Really, this was his doing. Had you known the true history between them, you would have never confided in her to begin with.

A seething, dark energy filled your senses, fueled by your growing anger. It was familiar, the same energy you had felt in the forest. Only this time, it was your own emotions that were drawing you closer to the edge of the abyss, luring you towards it.

Each encounter with the darkness became more difficult to resist, the allure of giving in to it feeling more like asylum than a threat.

A flash of lightning pulled you from your spiral, saving you from sinking further into the boiling rage within you.

You let your legs mindlessly carry you through the rain, kicking up mud in your path. You were no longer yourself, but rather a drone determined for answers.

Lightning continued to rip through the sky, each time followed by the sound of its loyal thunder, roaring only for a moment before settling to recharge its might.

Ben’s door was all that stood between you and the answers you sought, but not for long.

You burst into the room, nearly slamming the door into the six-foot-something man standing behind it.

“Hey, easy there. I was just about to bring you a towel,” he said calmly, despite the surprised expression written on his face.

Either he was oblivious to your demeanor, or you were concealing your anger far better than you imagined you were. He reacted to you as if you had just stopped by for a surprise visit instead of storming in after witnessing him in a near-screaming match with Voe.

“Are you kidding me?” you spat, pushing yourself past him.

“About bringing you a towel? No, I meant it. I was jus–”

You snatched the towel from his hands, removing it from the conversation.

“I’m not talking about the towel, Ben. I’m obviously talking about whatever just happened between you and Voe back there.”

His jaw flexed, the muscles in his neck tensing at the mention of her name. “You know that Voe and I don’t always see eye-to-eye.”

You scoffed. “Not seeing eye-to-eye is disagreeing about something that doesn’t matter, like what the best flavor of ice cream is. Calling each other children and talking about having power over one another goes far beyond that!”

“This isn’t something that concerns you,” he said coldly, his stare unwavering.

A stone sank in your chest, plummeting through your ribs until it hit the bottom of your stomach.

“I think it does concern me,” you said, your voice lower than before, but still stern. “She called me a toy—on more than one occasion—all because I associate with you. I deserve to know what the fuck happened between you two.”

You had never spoken to Ben in this tone, but after his dismissal of your questions, you didn’t really care about hurting his feelings. Especially considering that yours were currently smashed into a million pieces.

He moved closer to you, his massive figure now looming over you. Not like he usually did, with gentle hands around your waist, followed by soft lips against yours. No, this time his presence was intimidating, the first time you had ever felt subordinate to him.

“You want to know why Voe and I don’t get along?” he said, his voice gravelly.

All you could do was nod, your fiery rage suddenly nowhere to be found as he closed the space between you two.

A chill ran down your spine as you took a step back, only to be met with resistance from his wall.

“It’s because deep down, she knows that no matter how hard she tries, or how much she trains, that she’ll never be good enough. She is destined to live in my shadow.”

Your ears heard the words and your brain recognized them as coming from Ben’s mouth, yet you were still unable to process what he had just said.

“Do you really believe that?” you asked quietly, trying to hide your emotion.

“Yes.” His response was almost instant, nearly automatic.

“Why?”

He pinched the bridge of his nose and huffed sharply. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“And why’s that? Because I haven’t been here as long as you have?” Your voice was raising once again, your emotions bleeding through.

“That’s not what I said,” he growled.

“But that’s what you meant!”

“No,” he snapped, his brows drawing together. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean by it?”

“I…” He paused, running this hand through his drying hair as he considered his answer. “I don’t know what I meant by it. Just forget that I ever said it.”

You let out a terse exhale, dissatisfied with the resolution. If he wouldn’t answer that question, then you would press another.

“The way you see Voe…” you started, hesitant to say the rest of the question. “Is that how you view the rest of us, too?”

He pursed his lips, considering his answer for an uncomfortably long time. You watched him with pleading eyes, ones that begged for the truth, but weren’t sure they were ready to hear it.

For a fleeting moment, he looked as if he was going to respond, inhaling deeply before pushing the words out.

But nothing ever came.

His silence was enough of an answer for you. You stepped away from him, his eyes still trained on you as you drifted further from him.

Somehow, the silence hurt more than hearing him say what he believed. It meant he knew what he thought was arrogant and wrong, but he wasn’t bold enough to say it to your face.

Tears began to prick at the corners of your eyes, accompanied by a lump forming in your throat as you turned on your heels, hiding your face from Ben’s sight.

He was stoic in the center of his room as he watched you grab the door handle.

You turned to face him one last time before you left the room, allowing him one more chance to resolve the conversation.

Was he really going to let you leave like this? With the belief that he thought so little of you and your peers?

As you pulled the door open and stepped past the threshold of the entryway, you learned the answer.

The next day passed uneventfully. The rain finally let up in the morning, which would have been nice if you had been scrubbing the temple steps all day, but you weren’t. You didn’t show up to your assignment, opting to take the risk of a prolonged punishment over having to see Ben.

When Master Skywalker knocked on your door mid-morning, you fed him a lie as to why you weren’t there. As far as he knew, you had been up all night with an upset stomach. It was a foolproof lie—you weren’t even halfway through your explanation before he cut you off and excused you for the day.

You spent the rest of the day either pacing around your quarters, tossing and turning in bed, or flipping through the pages of dense texts as a means of passing the time between meals. While hiding in your quarters wasn’t exactly productive, it provided you the solace you didn’t receive from Ben Solo.

The twill blanket rolled between your fingertips as you picked at it, fraying the thread as you tried to calm the gnawing pit of anxiety in your stomach. You weren’t sure how long you had been laying like this, lost in your thoughts as you waited for the night to come and allow you to sleep. Not that you would be able to sleep right now.

Part of you was hoping to hear another knock at your door. Over twenty four hours had passed already since the conversation—if you could even call it that—in his quarters. For all you knew, he was carrying on as usual, completely unaware of the turmoil in your mind.

Your eyes fell on the drawer beside your bed, the one you had yet to open since arriving here. Scrolling through the offerings of the datapad sounded more intriguing than staring off into oblivion all night.

It was black, sleek, and light in your hands as you fiddled with the touch-sensitive buttons, familiarizing yourself with its operating system.

While flicking through the applications, one in particular caught your eye, accented with a bright notification in the corner. It was the…messaging application?

Upon further inspection, you noticed that the number three was written in the circle. Your fingers flew to click on the notification, dread growing in your gut upon seeing who the messages were from.

1 new message from Ben Solo, received at 0548:

Hey. I don’t know if you’ve found your datapad yet, but if you have, please write back.

1 new message from Ben Solo, received at 1310:

We missed you at lunch today. Master Skywalker said you weren’t feeling well, so I hope you feel better soon. Let me know if there’s anything I can do.

1 new message from Ben Solo, received at 1722:

Okay, I’m starting to worry about you. Please, just let me know you’re alright.

In your fragile state, just reading messages from him was enough to seize your heart and brim your eyes with warm, salty tears.

You opened the last message, expanding the text and details of the communication. After reading over it once more, you typed your reply.

Reply to Ben Solo:

Hi, Ben.

Yes, I finally found my datapad, along with all of the messages you’ve sent. I didn’t realize I was so popular. I’m feeling a bit better, thank you for asking. I’ll see you tomorrow for another day of scrubbing the steps.

The message felt incredibly impersonal, all things considered, but you couldn’t be sure that the datapad communications were entirely private. So, you opted for a safe, platonic-sounding response.

Less than a minute after pressing send, another notification popped up on your screen.

1 new message from Ben Solo, received at 1806:

I’m coming by. I’ll be there in a few minutes.

Before you could even respond to the message, there was a knock on your door. A quiet one, but still loud enough to be heard from inside your room.

You cracked the door open, finding who you already knew was on the other side of it.

“So much for a few minutes,” you said as you pulled the door open a bit further.

Ben cleared his throat. “There’s, uh, a lag in delivery time.”

He looked tired, his shoulders slouched and his hands shoved in his cloak pockets. He was wearing an emotion you hadn’t seen on him before. It almost looked like guilt.

“I’m sure there is,” you joked, your tone still stiffer than usual. “Um, do you want to come in?”

Your invitation was less of a genuine offer and more of a means to getting him out of the view of any possible bystanders.

“Yeah—yes, I would like that.” He was stumbling over his words, something that had been reserved only for you up until this point.

A small, amused smile pulled at your lips as you turned your back and led him inside.

Suffocating silence fell over the two of you as the door shut behind him. You sat on your bed and leaned against the wall, eyeing him as he shifted his weight between his feet. It was oddly satisfying to see him uncomfortable, given how you had spent the past two days.

Predictably, your soft heart got the better of you and you patted the spot beside you. He accepted your invitation and shuffled over to take the spot, avoiding your gaze as he did. The bed dipped as he sat down, shaking the mattress as he scooted back against the wall like you.

“Well, how are you?” he asked, as if you hadn’t told him in message form less than five minutes ago.

“How am I? Stars, Ben.” You let out an incredulous laugh.

He rubbed the heel of his palms into his eyes to hide his embarrassment. “I know, that was lame of me to ask. I shouldn’t have–”

“Look,” you snapped, “I’m really not interested in making small talk.”

“Yeah, definitely. Me neither.”

He was very agreeable when he needed to apologize. Not that he was necessarily stubborn otherwise, but you could tell he was acting on his best behavior right now.

Your eyes roamed the perimeter of your room as the two of you sat there, steeped in silence. Unfortunately, you were too stubborn yourself to broach the subject, forcing him to be the one to do it.

“I’m really sorry about yesterday,” he said after a moment, his words rushed.

All you did was blink at him, waiting for more than just an “I’m sorry.”

“I didn’t mean to insinuate that I think you’re below me, because I don’t think that at all.” He paused, as if he were anxious to say his next thought. “Quite the opposite, actually.”

Your next exhale was shaky as it spilled out of your lungs. He had his tongue pressed against his cheek in thought, so you resisted saying anything in hopes of keeping the apology going.

He continued. “You’re the only person here that doesn’t have to push themselves past their capabilities to keep up with me. It all comes so naturally to you, too.”

While his words could have been either flattery or praise, given the tone of his voice and his relaxed demeanor, it seemed to be the latter. Warmth filled your chest at the thought, lustrous pride rising to the surface.

“You flatter me,” you said with a coy smile, trying to hide the blush that rose to your cheeks.

“But it’s true. I know that it’s wrong of me to think of our classmates that way, it’s just something that’s hard to look past when you’ve been told you’re a prodigy your entire life.”

He let out a small sigh as he rested his chin on top of his knees. His brows were slightly drawn, his soft, brown eyes focused on a point far in the distance.

Hesitantly, you inched your hand closer to his, wrapping your fingers around his slack palm. Truthfully, it was hard to understand how he must have felt. To be related to the famous Luke Skywalker, Galactic Rebellion hero and Jedi Master. Trying to live up to his legacy alone must have been an enormous burden.

“Do you feel pressured to be someone you’re not?” you asked quietly.

With that, he turned to face you, his lips rosy and pouty. His gaze flicked between your eyes for a second, searching for something in them.

He nodded. “More than I’d like to admit.”

You hummed in response, grazing your thumb across the back of his hand.

The conversation could’ve naturally stopped there, but he continued. “Do you know who Leia Organa is?”

His question felt irrelevant from the topic, but you answered nonetheless. “Of course I do. Why?”

He let out a short puff of air through his nose, chewing on his bottom lip before responding. “She’s my mom.”

The words clattered around your skull like a pair of dice, knocking into and obliterating any other thought you had. On the outside though, your parted lips and stunned eyes were the only evidence of your shock.

“Your mom is Senator Organa?!”

When he had divulged the information that his mom was a senator, your head had been too clouded with anxiety to think harder about it. Not to mention that you were not overly familiar with every senator on the New Republic’s roster. But Senator Leia Organa was a household name throughout the galaxy, not only for being one of the founding members of the Galactic Senate, but also for her role in the Rebellion. And here you were, sitting beside her son.

“Yeah, she’s Master Skywalker’s sister. It’s quite a reputation to uphold,” he said with a sigh, relaxing the tension in his shoulders. “That’s beside the point, though. I really do feel terrible about yesterday.”

You studied him, trying to piece together features he shared with his mother. Recalling your grade school education when you learned about the senate, as well as images of Leia Organa from news articles about her on the HoloNet. His big, brown eyes and dark, wavy hair were reminiscent of hers. You wondered what his father looked like, what features of his could be attributed to him.

“It’s okay. Honestly, I think we both could have handled things better,” you said, resting your head on his shoulder. “I appreciate your apology.”

He turned and kissed the top of your head before leaning against you as well. You supposed that was his acknowledgement of what you had said, which you didn’t really mind.

After a moment of resting like this, he spoke up. “I have something for you.”

“Mmm?”

You straightened your back to look at him as he dug through his pockets, retrieving a small, drawstring pouch. He took your hand in his free one and placed the bag in your palm, his eyes lighting up as he watched you, anticipating your reaction.

“What’s this?” you asked, hesitant to open it.

“Open it.”

The canvas bag shifted in your grasp as you opened it and poured the contents into your hand. In your grasp was a silver, braided bracelet with a cyan, opalescent detail hanging from the center. It was flexible, but not as much as a typical chain would be. By the craftsmanship and alloy used, it looked to be fashioned out of some kind of metal wire.

“I made it myself. I sanded out some wires I had laying around from when I built my lightsaber, and I braided it to match yours,” Ben said, gently pulling your braid to lay on your shoulder.

Your heart felt as if it were going to explode, a stark contrast to the coldness of the past day. You slid the bracelet over your hand and let it dangle from your wrist, admiring the asymmetrical charm hanging from it.

“This is beautiful, Ben,” you said, a giddy smile stretched across your face. “If you don’t mind me asking, what’s the pendant?”

“It’s a flake of a crystal,” he explained, his eyes searching the room as he looked for the right words. “I found it on one of Endor’s moons when I was a kid. I’ve been holding onto it ever since, but I want you to have it.”

His fingers laced with yours, enveloping your hand.

“Are you sure?”

He suppressed a laugh and sighed. “I hope so, considering that I already drilled a hole into it.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled your hand free from his grasp, shoving him lightly. “You know what I meant, smartass.”

“Yes, I’m quite sure,” he said quietly before leaning over and kissing you.

There was a beat of silence between the two of you, but a comfortable one.

“I should get going now.” He sounded half-hearted, as if he were hoping you would protest.

You did.

“No,” you murmured. “Please stay.” You bunched his cloak in your fist, preventing him from standing up from the bed. With wide eyes you watched him, trying to read what was going on in that beautiful head of his.

“Okay,” he said softly.

A surge of confidence flooded your veins. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, your lips parted his, moving slowly against each other as you moved to straddle his hips. His rough hands were quick to grab your waist, gripping you tightly and pulling you against his chest.

He sighed into your mouth as you ground your hips into his, the familiar—yet intoxicating—feeling of his growing length between your legs. You smiled into his lips and pressed harder, rubbing against your aching clit.

You pulled away from his lips momentarily. “Why is it that we only seem to do this after an argument?”

Ben let out an airy chuckle through his nose and shook his head. “I don’t know, but I’m definitely not complaining.”

“Neither am I.” You slid your hands behind his neck and kissed him again before finishing your thought. “We’ve had a rough couple of days, haven’t we?”

“Yeah, all thanks to me,” he said quietly, a tinge of guilt evident in his tone. Despite his gaze still being on your face, it felt distant, as if he were lost in a sea of thoughts.

“No, not all thanks to you,” you assured him, swiping a thumb over his cheekbone. “I’m equally at fault for handling things the way I did.”

His eyes snapped up to yours, irises nearly erased by his pupils. He searched your eyes for a lingering moment, as if in them he would find the courage to say what he wanted to.

“You’re all I thought about this past day. Not school, not training,” he said, tracing his thumb over your bottom lip, his fingers splayed over your hot cheek. “Just you.”

He dragged your hips across his, massaging the sensitive spot between your legs with his hardened cock. A sharp gasp escaped your lips, your eyes falling shut as you savored the sensation.

“There’s something else I was thinking about, too. Something I wanted to try,” he said, gently holding your bottom lip down with his thumb.

The ambiguity of his statement sparked electricity in your stomach, bleeding down to the pressure between your legs.

“And what’s that?” You let your hands fall to his shoulders, gently squeezing the muscle beneath.

“First, we need to get you out of these,” he said hoarsely, his hands moving to untie your belt.

You beat him to it, moving to stand as you shed your clothing, leaving just your bra and underwear remaining.

His dark eyes raked over your body, and before you could climb back onto his lap, he grabbed your waist, holding you in place. “Those too.”

Butterflies swarmed in your stomach as you unclasped your bra and slid it down your arms. Ben rolled your underwear down your legs, his eyes following them until they finally fell to the ground.

“At any point in this plan are you going to be undressing, too?” you asked, crossing your leg in front of the other to cover yourself.

“I wasn’t going to, but I can if you’d like me to.” He looked up at you with wide eyes, a lock of dark hair falling into them.

“Oh, you don’t have to then…” You trailed off as you tried to comprehend what was going to happen.

He pulled you onto his lap and laid back, dragging your hips forward with him.

“What are you doing?” you asked, providing almost no resistance to his movements.

“Just come here and you’ll see.”

You let his hands guide you further, your hips hovering above his face now. His hot breath spread over your throbbing clit, igniting a fire in your belly.

To your dismay, he turned his head and placed slow kisses on your inner thigh, his fingers digging into the flesh above his lips. A low groan vibrated in his throat, dangerously close to your cunt.

You squirmed under his touch, trying to expel the energy pent up within you.

“Don’t be cruel,” you gasped, threading your fingers through his hair in an attempt to pull him closer.

“I’m not being cruel,” he whispered, his lips grazing your skin. “I’m just trying to memorize how you look right now.”

Heat spread across your cheeks and down your neck, melting away any residual insecurity. As you opened your mouth to respond, he parted you with his tongue, licking a long stripe up to your sensitive clit.

A whimper fell from your lips, earning your hips a squeeze from Ben’s hands as he licked your cunt again, groaning into you. You let your head fall forward, your legs beginning to shake from the strain of supporting yourself.

“You can relax—you’re not going to crush me,” he said, his breath fanning over your wet skin.

“Are you sure?”

He nodded, smoothing his hands up your waist until they reached your breasts. You moaned as the rough pads of his thumbs rolled over your nipples, igniting your nerves with each tight motion.

His mouth was relentless, sucking and circling over your swollen clit, drawing you closer to the edge. You let your muscles relax, allowing yourself to focus on the sensation between your legs.

Everything about it was intoxicating—his tongue, being on top of him, the intensity of his gaze. It was all becoming too much as your pleasure grew, your senses nearly overwhelmed.

“Shit, I’m close,” you panted between shallow breaths, tugging on his dark locks as you neared your orgasm.

“Yes—fuck—come for me.”

Ben’s voice was clear, but not spoken aloud. As the words penetrated your mind, you opened your eyes, seeing that his mouth was still on you.

It had been an invisible communication between you two.

Before you could question it, euphoria flooded your veins, washing over your body and emptying your mind. You writhed in his grasp, grinding your hips against his mouth as you came down from your high. You felt weightless, spinning on the comedown until you landed in a bed of soft, cottony bliss.

Ben’s eyes were locked on you as he peppered wet kisses along your thigh before letting his head fall back onto the mattress, smiling as he exhaled softly.

Shakily, you climbed off his chest and collapsed beside him, your skin warm and eyelids heavy.

“Ben,” you started, yawning between thoughts. “I think I’m going crazy.”

He chuckled. “What do you mean?”

The statement about to leave your mouth was either going to be easily explained away or leave Ben thinking that you’re clinically insane. Your gaze wandered around the room before finally meeting Ben’s.

“Just now, when I was about to, you know…”

“Come?” Ben finished for you, grinning at your hesitancy.

“Yes,” you sighed, “when I was about to come, I swear I heard you say something. But I don’t know how that’s even possible.”

“What did you hear?” he asked, propping himself up on an elbow, a flicker of curiosity flashing across his eyes.

“I thought I heard you say ‘come for me.’”

A pause hung in the air. He definitely thinks you’re insane.

Ben finally parted his beautiful, plush lips to respond. “I mean, I thought that, but no, I didn’t say it out loud. I was…occupied.”

You smiled, chewing on your bottom lip. “I know you were. That’s why I’m confused.”

“I’ll have to do some research, but I think I’ve read about this being possible through the Force. Connected minds, connected bodies…” He winked at you, evidently proud of his innuendo.

“Don’t be dirty.” You shoved him with all your strength, but still barely disturbed his stability. Not that you were any better after riding his face just moments ago.

“I would never.” He ran a hand through his hair, his brows pinched in thought. “Well shit, what else did you hear? I might need to start censoring my thoughts,” he said with a stifled laugh.

“I didn’t hear anything else. But yes, you’d be wise to only think the kindest of thoughts while you’re around me.”

“I already do, princess.” He pulled you by your waist until you were pressed against him and kissed you, his lips warm and salty. In the hazy afterglow of your orgasm, you couldn’t find the will to care.

Another yawn threatened to escape your mouth as you watched Ben sit up, adjusting his pants before standing. Guilt washed over you.

You sat up on your elbows. “Wait, if you want, we can–”

“You’re already half asleep, we’re not going to do anything,” he said quietly, pushing you back against the bed with a kiss.

“But–” you protested weakly. He was right after all, you were only one warm blanket away from a good night’s sleep.

He smiled down at you. “You deserve to be treated. Please, just let me do that.” As he walked towards the door, he turned back to look at you once more. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

You slid under the blanket, relishing the faint heat stored in it from your bodies atop it. “Goodnight, Ben,” you said, letting your eyes flutter closed and your head sink into your pillow.

“Goodnight.”

68 notes · View notes

capuletangel · 2 years

Text

Slow Like Honey

Word Count: 3492

Story Summary: Ben Solo falls into a deep obsession with the local new baker, and Ben always gets what he wants.

Tags: DEAD DOVE; Stalking, Obsession, Creepy Ben Solo, Non-Con, Bittersweet Fluff, Misogyny, Major Character Death, Dark Themes and Eventual Smut. AFAB.

Chapter Specific Tags; Non-Consensual Touching

A/N - Genuine thank you to everyone who interacts with this fic and comments, you really do make my day. I’m a whore for validation.

Posted To AO3 | Wattpad

Masterlist

Chapter Six; Like Someone In Love

"Do you want me to help?" She stood hovering in the hallway, wide eyed as if she needed to apologise to him, but this was Ben being there for her. Clad in a sweater that only allowed the fabric of her sleep shorts to peek out by an inch. She knew what she was doing, what the flesh of her legs would do to Ben.

"Don't sweat it, kid," Ben tried to assure her as he heaved the flat pack box into her apartment, tensing his forearms as much as he could so that he didn't get her in harm's way.

Ben couldn't be more joyous about her asking him for help, as she should.

If Ben found out that she tried to assemble this by herself, he would've been fuming. Ben yearned to look after her — to help her. And the fact she felt comfortable asking brought a warmth to his heart.

Ben wanted to press her up against the wall and let his hands roam around the flesh of her thighs, feel her breath falter and her heart beat race as he pressed ardent kisses to her neck. How she melted underneath his touch.

Her hair was messy, thrown up into a bun and her hands emerged underneath the sleeves of her sweater.

He could do anything he wanted to her.

A starving man alone with such a beautiful woman, he could. He could force himself onto her, take her right where she was, listen to her screams and cries as she tried to fight. She wouldn't have been able to, of course. He was far larger than her and to have her squirm beneath him would've sent his cock into overdrive.

Feel how her heat tensed around him, muscles clenching for him despite her yelps.

But Ben didn't want that, no, no. How could he? Ben wasn't a vile man, nor a simple one at that. Ben takes his time. Ben is patient. Ben could never take her so callously or push her away. Not when he's tried so hard all of this time.

That'd be a waste.

Ben would love her like no other could. Like no other would. No one would love her like Ben can, he wouldn't let them. She's his and his alone. She'll learn. He'll teach her.

"Where are you putting it?" He scanned her apartment and couldn't fight his smirk when he realised she'd cleaned up for him, as if this was the first time he'd been here. How naïve. But, he reacted as if it was his first time seeing the place, chuckling at the photo of her in rain boots.

"Um, opposite the couch—oh, god. That's so embarrassing." She moved her body to cover the fridge, face beet red. She hugged her arms around her body, as if that could protect her from Ben's stare. Just looking towards the couch makes Ben's cock stir, remembering what she looked like last night.

Desperate and needy.

He couldn't help but wonder if she was thinking of him, imagining that it was Ben between her legs—coaxing her orgasm.

"You've got a lot of books," Ben hums, trying to get her cumming off of his mind, but it wasn't a simple task. She had another bookcase, which he noted before was filled to the brim with recipe books, but there were fiction books haphazardly placed around her apartment.

"Yeah... It's a problem. I sort of hoard them. I don't really have a lot to spend money on at the moment, so it goes to buying books."

"Have you read all of them?"

"Yeah — well, the majority of them."

Ben got his toolbox from the hallway, carefully tearing the box apart. He glanced at her from the corner of his eye and smiled at how frantic she appeared. "You can sit down, y'know, I've got it covered."

"I-I know, I just feel like I should be helping you... considering," she shrugged, chewing on her lip as if she knew it'd make his vision tunnel.

But then she stopped, and her face lit up. Ben quirked a brow, wanting to know what was going on inside her pretty head. "I can bake you something—at least I'm good at that."

"I—Okay, I won't turn that offer down."

She beamed at Ben's response, a wide smile as she moved towards the kitchen counter. Ben couldn't take his eyes off of her, how she glowed at his approval. She flicked through a small leather notebook.

He could see her rushed handwriting sprawled over the pages.

He'd imagined this for months on end. Spending the day with her, watching her work in the privacy of her own home. Being the person she bakes for. Everything was going exactly how he wanted it to. He only needed to assemble the bookcase to have her to himself.

Throughout making it, he noted all the small things that she'd do that made his heart pump faster. Faster than it had ever done before. She hummed whilst concentrating, and she'd form her face into a cute little pout, lips puffing out.

She'd mumble the ingredients to make sure that she had the ones she needed; apples, ginger, allspice, cinnamon, flour, sugar, butter and heavy cream. The smell was rich and homely.

He'd catch her eye a few times, she'd blush and look the other way, but he could see how pink her ears were turning.

The bookshelf was like the other one but had more space, an ivory shade of white. He noticed she didn't like stark colours. Everything was mellow and gentle, like her.

He wiped his hands on his jeans, puffing out a breath before turning around. Finally, he could spend time with her instead of the screwdrivers he'd been holding for the last thirty minutes.

"Ta-dah!" She placed a dish down on the table with jazz hands, face smeared with flour, just like it was the first time he saw her in September. "It's not a Danish, unfortunately for you, but I have alway wanted you to try something new... it's an apple gingerbread galette."

It looked beautiful—perfect, even with the little patisserie knowledge Ben knew about. A rich amber colour with a caramel sauce dripped over the top in delicate patterns. She'd already cut a slice for him, eagerly passing him a fork.

"This looks... really, really good—you sure you're not trying to poison me, kid? Or fatten me up like Hansel and Gretel?"

She gave a cheeky smile, though no matter how much she tried to feign charm, she'd always be too nice. Those wide eyes captured Ben through her constantly awestruck expression. "No promises."

He hummed, scooping up the galette, and his mouth exploded at the taste. His eyes soften as he held her stare. The way she was wringing her hands showed him that she was itching to know what he thought. The moan that slipped said it all.

"Good?"

"Amazing. I wish I could think of a stronger word... delectable, mouthwatering, ambrosian, succu—" He went on with a humorous tone until she shook her head, almost squeaking with insecurity.

"Stop, stop," she laughed, and it sent shivers up his spine. Seeing her toothy grin was like a thwack in the heart. "Do you want to watch a movie?"

Ben would love nothing more. "Okay." He watched her grin widen, and she nodded in success, squeezing her hands once more before moving over to her desk.

"I don't have a TV at the moment. You don't mind watching something on my laptop, do you?"

"No, no. Not at all." As long as they were sitting next to each other, cuddled onto her small couch, he was sure he'd cope, somehow.

He still wasn't certain that this wasn't one of his fever dreams. It sure felt like it. Watching her, in her apartment, her baking for him and not just for profit, but for his personal satisfaction.

Ben took a seat on the right, remembering that she liked to sit on the left side from when he last visited. She placed the laptop on the coffee table. "There are blankets in the drawers—" she cut herself abruptly, and it took Ben a second to realise why.

That's where she kept her vibrator.

"Oh?" Ben feigned innocence, leaning over to hook his fingers into the gap, ready to pull it open, but she shook her head adamantly.

"Oh, no, it's okay!"

"You sure?" He began to pull, just with a light force, and he could see the faintest glimmer of the metal.

"No, no. It's cold—we can just share my duvet."

He let his fingers drop from the draw, secretly laughing at her reaction, how frantic she became at the thought of him finding her secret. He pushed the drawer shut, but he wanted to continue to tempt.

She got so squirmy. He likes it when she squirms, like a little rabbit. All nervous.

He drew back, leaning against the cushions. It was a very comfy couch. She placed the duvet down into the middle and shuffled a bit, "I'm gonna go wash my face quick," she pointed to the flour and laughed at herself, scrambling off.

Like a little rabbit.

He took the moment alone to lift her duvet up to his nose, breathing in her scent like it was ambrosia. It relaxed his body like nothing else, as if it were made to calm him down.

Calming his muscles, making him feel at home.

He was home. Home with her. She was his home, and he hoped, no, he knew, that she could feel it too.

He dropped it when he heard the water stop running, draping it across his lap. At least it hid his ever-growing boner.

She lit some of the lamps around her apartment whilst on her way back, letting the low bulbs light the space with a soft glow.

This was peace. He couldn't imagine anything better than this. She picked up her laptop before slipping under the duvet, her thigh touching his.

"What film are we watching?"

"Um." Ben didn't miss the shy smile which began to show. "I'm—I'm a bit of a nerd for old fantasy films... But, I'm not very opinionated, if that's not your thing?"

Anything. "No, no. You can choose."

She hummed in appreciation. Scrolling through, the white light of her laptop screen let Ben see every glimmer of interest when she saw a film she wanted to watch. How her lips would twitch or her eyebrows would rise a bit as she saw the thumbnails.

Her eyes scanned between two films, chewing on her lower lip in concentration. Tilting her face to look at Ben, with an expression which tempted his cock.

"Labyrinth... or Neverending Story?"

Ben pouted at the screen, as if he cared about the film when she was sitting next to him. "Labyrinth." She nodded, happy with his choice, happy with him.

She placed the laptop back onto the surface of the table, leaning back so that their shoulders pressed together and she hooked her feet underneath her hips, so that her fluffy socks brushed against his forearm.

She was teasing him. She wouldn't have gotten so close otherwise. She felt like she could trust Ben, and that alone made his head spin.

He hooked his arm behind him, so that it leaned against the back of the couch and brushed against the skin on her shoulder.

The first touch of her bare skin against his fingertips and he couldn't be more overjoyed. He looks at her through half-lidded eyes and he can see the faintest smile tugging at her lips.

He drags his fingers back and forth, caressing her as if it's a subconscious action, like he's doing it inactively, but that couldn't be further from the truth.

Taking pleasure in feeling the texture, how silky she is, how warm she is underneath his touch.

Her body relaxes into his and he hears her take a long breath. She's tucked under his side, cherishing his touch. Melting into him. Protected. Safe. With him. So cute. She needs him — she doesn't know it just yet, but she will. She'll know, and she'll thank him.

They're about halfway into the film when her eyes start to flutter shut and her fingers begin to flitter against the duvet, twitching as she fights clarity.

It's a beautiful sight.

"A creepy guy keeps coming into the bakery," she murmurs. Her voice is so quiet he barely hears her, but he does.

Fingers pausing their rhythm as his heart speeds up. "What? Who?" He knew this would happen, knew she wasn't safe. He can't protect her when she's at work. She shouldn't be all alone. She's vulnerable. Fragile.

She whimpers sleepily, and his cock twitches again.

He nudges her, wanting an answer. "Who?"

"I'm not sure," he thinks she says, but it sounds a lot more like m'n'sure. She straightens a bit when he nudges her again. Not too harsh. He wouldn't hurt her. Just needs to know who.

Rain begins to patter down, hitting the window and muffling her, so Ben has to lean down closer.

"He's ginger. Pasty. He's weird a-and he scares me... gets really close." Armitage. That's why he was so inquisitive — why he was trying to get on Ben's nerves.

Ben drops his hand, placing it on her shoulder instead of just stroking. "It's okay," he gives a supportive squeeze, thumb coaxing the flesh on her collarbone. Her head relaxes onto his chest in submission, nuzzling into his shirt. Ben will protect her, always will. "Think I know who."

She doesn't reply, just makes a small sound and nudges her head closer. Ben hasn't been touched like this for so long, maybe not ever.

Not with such pure intentions. Not with such love, such care. His hand on her shoulder reels her closer and her hair tickles his chin, brushing against his beard.

The rain became much heavier, hitting the window panes with harsh and consistent pressure. "Think it's going to storm," Ben mumbles to himself, though it doesn't miss her ears. She tenses on him, breath hitching.

Ben inwardly gloats, begging the maker for a storm. He'll be able to look after her.

Her hand moves from the blanket to his chest when the rain continues to torment the glass, fisting the fabric. A yelp escapes her as there's a clap of thunder which cracks through the sky. She flinches and fidgets, clinging on tighter.

"Are you scared of thunder?" Ben questions, lips formed into a grin.

"No!" Her words came out rushed, but the grip told him she was lying.

"It's okay, sweet girl." Ben strokes a hand through her hair at a slow pace, mimicking the speed of his own breath. "Your safe with me."

Lightning flashes and she clamps her eyes shut, breathing deep through her nose. "C-Can we hug please? It-it's just I haven't hugged in so long—" Ben doesn't wait until she finishes her sentence, instead wrapping his arms around her in an instant.

She sounded like she was on the verge of tears.

He sighs into it, and her arms stretch to go around his torso, squeezing tight and tensing again at another boom of thunder.

She's petrified, trembling, and she's choosing to put her comfort in Ben. Holding him tight because she knows he cares. Knows he's good.

His hand rubs circles on her back and his chin rests at the top of her head.

When the next sound comes, he takes the shock to scoop her into his lap. She doesn't protest, instead she whimpers. He holds her so her butt rests on his left thigh, rather than it resting on the bulge of his cock.

He was getting very turned on, from all the whimpering and squirming. And the physical touch — Ben hasn't been hugged since his mid-twenties.

This is bliss.

This is love.

He didn't remember the warmth that followed intimacy, not just physical warmth but eternal.

It felt like his heart was swelling up, fizzling.

The thunder began to move farther away, but he didn't release her. Her breathing gets softer and softer with each minute that passes, but his grip stays firm, sheltering her in his embrace.

He likes her like this.

"Are you tired?" He mumbles, lips skimming her ear, and she shivers before nodding, releasing a tired moan.

The hand which supports her knee detaches, leaning to shut her laptop. He scoops his arm under her legs and stands. God, he loves her so much.

Seeing her sleepy frame is intoxicating, but holding it — it's indescribable.

"Gonna get you into bed."

He takes his time carrying her, holding her. Feeling her in his arms, breathing in her scent. He could do anything he wants to her, alone with her in her apartment. She's sleepy and he could take control.

The thought makes his vision tunnel, but he brushes it away for now. He doesn't want to do that.

Ben's a nice guy. He wants to take his time, it's paying off. Ben is a patient man.

Hasn't even felt her lips yet. He could, if he wanted to. Ben shakes his head, huffing a breath as he lays her down, returning to the sofa and collecting the duvet.

He takes a moment to look at her before laying it over her body, patting the plush fabric around to make her comfy and warm. Ben shuffles awkwardly, backing away.

She stirs, and he looks, chewing on his lip.

"You can lay down if you want." Again, her voice is muffled by sleep, blurring the words.

"You're sure?" He cares about her. Doesn't want her to feel pressured.

"Mhm."

Ben begins to edge out of his boots, sitting at the edge of the bed and slipping them off, before taking off his flannel that's placed over his t-shirt, placing it on her bedside table. He leaves everything else on, wants to respect her. Loves her.

His blood pumps audibly through his ears.

He lays next to her and he could definitely be dreaming. Surely this is too lucky?

He stays still, wondering if he should be hugging her or stroking her, but she interrupts the thought, pulling herself closer to him. She's only just awake by the look on her face.

Her eyelashes flutter as he wraps himself around her, spooning her. Distracting her from the rain. Soon he's sinking into her pillow and just listening to the sound of her whimpers and breaths. Holding her tight. She'll never leave him.

It's not long before she's twitching, dreaming. He wonders what she's dreaming about. He hopes she dreams of him, just like he dreams of her. He deserves to be on her mind.

They're so close.

Ben could touch her, just a bit. He'd do it gently. She wouldn't know. Ben is gentle.

He held his breath, testing the waters with a simple word. "Hey," he murmurs, seeing if she was fully asleep or still hanging on. When there was no response he murmured it again, but still, no response.

He could.

The hand that was round her waist moved lower and lower, gripping her hip with a light hold. He shifted her back and her butt brushed against his clothed cock, creating just the right amount of friction.

His breath hitched, pulling her back to him again in a grinding motion. Controlling her motions.

Shit. It felt good. It felt really, really good.

He fumbled to unbutton his pants, fingers shaking whilst he pulled them halfway down his hips. Ben palmed himself before pressing up against her again. He kept his underwear on.

Curling her hips to him before setting them back and doing it again, letting small moans of pleasure escape as he did.

He wanted to feel her. Wanted to feel her flesh against his own, wanted to feel her warmth, wanted to feel her engulf him. Feel her stretch around him. But Ben is patient.

This'll be enough to satiate him, for the time being.

A tremble rocked his body, and he knew he wouldn't last much longer. Concentrating the friction on the tip, inducing a groundbreaking amount of pressure and sensitivity.

"Fuck. Such a sweet girl, aren't you?" She didn't respond, but that did nothing to sway him. "Making me so desperate, letting me be intimate with you. You're such a good—such a g-good girl."

He couldn't stop the deep groan which left his mouth after orgasming, ejaculated right then and there. In his underwear.

He'd never been so desperate to cum before. But god, she looked so peaceful he couldn't help it. Zipping his trousers up and wrapping a tight arm around her waist, locking her in for the afterglow. She's all he can smell.

One thing was for sure.

He was going to kill Armitage Hux.

#adcu community #adcu fanfiction #adcu smut #ben solo fanfiction #ben solo x reader #ben solo x you #dead dove #dead dove do not eat #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x you

53 notes · View notes

capuletangel · 2 years

Text

Like Phantoms, Forever

Chapter Nine | Heavy Gloom

Pairing: Ben Solo/Kylo Ren x Reader

What to expect: fluff, violence, sexual content, general angst, mentions/descriptions of injury and death

Additional info: this story is set in 28 ABY, six years prior to the events of TFA

*concurrently being published on AO3 and Wattpad as well!

Masterlist

Spotify Playlist

Word count: 5.5k

Chapter-Specific CW: NSFW content, oral sex (m receiving), inappropriate use of the Force

A/N: Okay so I lied last week! I plan on having a consistent upload day eventually, but today is not that day. Updates will be posted in 7-10 business days, that much I can promise. Also, I made a playlist for this story! Just like the fic, it's a work in progress (also feel free to leave recommendations for it!) Thank you guys for all the kind comments and messages, you have no idea how much they mean to me :') Anyways, enough with the sappy shit, enjoy the chapter!

───────── ⋆ ☆ ⋆ ─────────

The sound of bristles scraping against stone had droned on for what felt like an eternity, but in reality only twenty minutes had elapsed. Dark grime was embedding under your fingernails as you scrubbed the steps, your knuckles already tiring from your tense grip on the brush.

The light of the twin suns bled through the cold, gray atmosphere. Billowing clouds loomed above, overlapping each other in various sizes and tones, threatening to open up and pour down at any moment. Rain or shine, Master Skywalker’s words echoed in your mind, mocking you.

Despite the less than ideal weather, you were grateful that your punishment partner had yet to show. The prospect of having to interact with Ben made your stomach flip, unsure if it was because of what had happened yesterday morning, or because regardless of how much you tried to fight it, you were still completely infatuated with him. It was the same reason why you clung to the minuscule hope of being with him.

Certainly, the knowledge that you would be spending a week of punishment with him hadn’t influenced your decision to wake up earlier than usual to style your hair in a new, intricate braid. Or the choice to apply the berry-tinted balm that you knew he liked. After all, you weren’t trying to impress him—you were doing it to make yourself feel good. Though, it wouldn’t hurt if he saw you like this.

Deciding that the stone you were currently scrubbing the life out of was adequately clean, you dropped your brush into its accompanying bin and watched it sink into the oblivion that was the muddy water.

The sound of your classmates training in the distance carried in the wind, reaching you at the top of the temple steps. It taunted you, the dull hum of lightsabers slicing through the air, laughter and declarations of victory as someone bested their partner in sparring practice. It truly felt like rubbing salt in yesterday’s wounds.

An irritated groan rumbled in your throat as you fished out your brush and began working on the next spot.

“What’s all this grumbling about?”

You didn’t need to turn around to know who the owner of the deep voice was. Predictably, your pulse quickened as you pushed your shoulders back, fixing your slouched posture.

Without turning your head, you addressed Ben, keeping your tone apathetic. “And here I thought that Skywalker had let you off easy.”

“Skywalker? That’s awfully casual of you,” he said, a hint of surprise in his voice. “And of course he didn’t. My uncle is nothing if not fair.”

Despite your indifference, he was still friendly, which only exacerbated your bad mood. Knowing that he wasn’t experiencing the same turmoil that you were made your heart ache.

“You’re still late,” you huffed, finally turning to face him. Your cold demeanor threatened to melt at the sight of him standing before you, arms crossed over his chest, head tilted slightly as if he were amused by you. “So, at the very least, he favors you in that way.”

He didn’t respond to that, only reaching down and picking up the pail he had set down at his feet, moving to begin scrubbing a stone beside you.

The sudden change in proximity to him made your head spin, forcing you to focus on the brush in your hand to avoid looking directly at him. A full week of this was going to be agony.

To your surprise, Ben was quiet for the first few minutes of monotonous work, leaving the two of you simmering in only the sound of brushes scraping stone and the occasional swish of water. The tension hanging between you was unfamiliar, almost eerie.

“We’ll be lucky if it doesn’t rain today,” Ben stated in a blatant effort to start a conversation. In your periphery, you could see his eyes flicker up to you as the sentence hung in the air.

“Mmm, yeah,” you replied idly. Having to make small talk with the man who you had been completely naked in front of less than 48 hours ago was a uniquely tailored level of hell. You could only dream of being so fortunate that the sky would open up and unleash lightning, striking you where you sat and allowing you an escape from this conversation.

“If it doesn’t today, then it definitely will tomorrow. Possibly even the day after that. Either way, these clouds don’t look very–”

“Okay, I get it,” you snapped. You clenched your jaw as you inhaled from your belly, trying to ground yourself. “I’m totally fine with us just not talking, especially if it’s about the weather.”

“Well, I’m not,” Ben said abruptly, grabbing your attention from the weathered rock you were cleaning to his wide, honey eyes. His brush clattered against the stone as he dropped it, his frustration palpable. “What’s gotten into you?”

“What’s gotten into me?” you scoffed. “I don’t know, maybe some sense? Some self-respect?”

“What in the world are you talking about?” His voice raised slightly, his cheerful front slipping away. “Self-respect? What did I do to infringe upon your self-respect?”

You shut your eyes, trying to compose yourself before speaking again. Your nails bit into the flesh of your palms as your temper rose. “I don’t know about you, but personally, being called a ‘hookup’ makes me feel pretty insignificant.”

Ben stared at you, baffled by the words leaving your mouth. “Hookup? I never called you a hookup!”

“Oh, but you did!”

“No, I didn’t! Why would I ever call you that?”

“I don’t know,” you hissed, lowering your gaze to pick at your nails. “I think I just misinterpreted what the other night meant to you.”

“What makes you think that? Being with you was nothing short of a dream come true.” His features softened as he spoke. “I certainly didn’t interpret it as us just ‘hooking up.’”

His words were sickeningly sweet, nearly successful in lifting the heavy gloom that had been cast over your mind the past day. Still, you persisted.

“You said it yourself, we’re not the first or last students to hook up at the Academy.” A pang ripped through your heart as you repeated his words.

“How was that me calling you a hookup though? I was just trying to put your mind at ease about us being together.”

All you could do was blink in response.

“I could have phrased it better, but I thought you knew what I meant.” His voice was softer now as he moved closer to you, his hand resting just above your knee.

The tension in your neck and shoulders vanished at his touch, a pathetic reminder of the influence he had on you. You realized how stupid you must’ve sounded, getting so worked up over a single, poorly-worded sentence. All of the heartache that one sentence had wrought was null.

Ben noted the change in your demeanor and suppressed a laugh. “That’s what this is all about? Is that why you stormed out yesterday?”

You shot him a sheepish look, inadvertently answering both of his questions. He pulled you against him in a snug embrace and you nuzzled into his neck, relishing the warmth of his skin.

A beat passed before you pulled back and looked at him, searching his eyes for any sign of anger, finding none. You dropped your head and let out a quiet sigh, ashamed that your insecurity had gotten the better of you.

“I’m sorry, Ben. I should’ve communicated better and asked you what you meant. I…” You pushed the next words out, ignoring how vulnerable you felt. “I was just afraid of being hurt–”

His lips smothered yours, cutting off the last word as it left your mouth. Cupping your flushed face in his big hands, he grazed your cheekbones with his thumbs, soothing you.

Warmth erupted in your chest, extinguishing any remaining animosity in your heart. You sighed into his mouth, melting more and more into his touch with every tender swipe of his tongue.

Ben pulled away, tucking a lock of hair that had fallen out of place behind your ear. “No need to apologize,” he whispered, his voice low and gravelly. “I feel the same.”

The fire in your chest calmed to a mere flicker, like a pilot light on stand-by, waiting for Ben’s lips to ignite it once more.

“You do?”

“Yes.” Your name slipped from his mouth before he paused, drawing his words out almost teasingly. “I do.” His lips curled into a smile, one that danced on the line between adoring and devilish.

Commotion erupted at the treeline below, revealing a handful of students wielding bright lightsabers, sparring with remote droids. Their eyes were covered by opaque visors, blinding them to the movement of the spherical droids.

You jumped out of Ben’s grasp and reached for your brush in the pail.

Reality had taken a brief intermission while you were in his arms, no longer at the Jedi Academy, but somewhere far away. Somewhere where you didn’t have to hide your affection.

Not a moment later, the last rays of sunlight were snuffed out by the dark clouds, a crack of thunder ringing through the air. The two of you glanced at each other at the sound, eyes wide with horror.

The students below flipped their visors up and squinted at the clouds overhead.

“Hey, we should get inside! It looks like it’s about to start coming down!” One of them shouted, setting off towards the temple. The others followed, quickly jogging up the steps and passing you.

One boy in particular kicked Ben’s bucket as he passed by. “Have fun you two,” he said in a borderline mocking tone.

Before you even looked up, you recognized the voice as belonging to Tai. Narrowing your eyes, you glared at Ben, who only offered you a shrug in response.

The students filed into the temple, pulling the heavy doors shut behind them. As if on cue, a wet drop hit your cheek. And another one. And then multiple at once. The slate stone became littered with dark blotches, slowly evaporating into the atmosphere and being replaced with new ones.

“At least it’s just sprinkling,” Ben said as he looked up at the clouds, analyzing them with the grit of a true meteorologist.

A flash illuminated the sky, fiery and unruly as it burst through the gray canvas. Now you decide to show up.

What started as a soft trickle quickly turned into heavy, roaring rain, crashing into the steps and dousing you both where you sat. Strands of hair were glued to your face, streams of water running off the tip of your nose.

“You just had to say that, didn’t you?”

Ben laughed, revealing a toothy smile and creased dimples. “Okay, I’ll admit it—that one’s on me.” He snatched your hand as he stood, pulling you up to your feet. “Let me make it up to you.”

“What are you doing?” you asked as Ben started down the stairs, taking you with him. “We can’t leave, Master Skywalker said ‘rain or shine!’”

“Don’t worry about him, I’ll handle it,” he shouted behind him as he raced down the slippery steps, nearly dragging you behind him. He looked back to you, squinting through the wall of rain. “First, let’s just get out of this.”

The robes that once draped your frame were now glued to your skin, hindering your speed as you ran through the training grounds. Ben gripped your fingers tightly, as if you would slip away and be lost to the downpour forever.

Your mind raced through the possible places where you two would hide out. Surely not either of your quarters—that would be the first place Master Skywalker would think to look when he discovered that you both were missing. Certainly not the temple, considering he was guiding you in the opposite direction from it.

The cold, wet air burned your lungs as you ran behind Ben, becoming breathless and tired from the elements.

Without warning, he stopped in his path, causing you to nearly crash into his tall frame.

“Watch where you’re going, princess,” he said, peeking over his shoulder to see you.

You frowned at him. “I would if I knew where I was going.”

“Well, we can go to either of our huts from here, so it’s up to you.”

“Are you insane? Our quarters are the first place Master Skywalker will look when he realizes we’re gone,” you argued, water dripping into your mouth as you spoke.

“Do you have a better idea?” he asked, his once pink lips now a faint shade of violet.

You glanced at your free hand, as if the answer would be written on it, but only found blanched, mottled skin from the lack of circulation.

Then, it hit you.

“We’ll hide in the showers.”

Ben only nodded in agreement as you pulled him behind you with almost no resistance. As you made your way to the building, you searched the area to ensure that no one was around. If anyone was, you hoped that they would be too occupied with finding shelter for themselves to care.

Your knuckles ached as you squeezed the door handle, pushing it open just far enough to pop your head in and scan the space for any signs of company. Finding none, you pushed it fully open with your shoulder, yanking Ben inside with you.

Relief washed over you as you stepped out of the rain, the stagnant air in the room a welcome greeting to your senses. You made swift work of peeling off the drenched cloak from your shoulders, dropping it to the ground with a loud plop. You didn’t dare attempt to remove your other layers out of fear of wrestling to get them back on later.

“I don’t think that Master Skywalker would dare to check in here,” you said as you pushed wet clumps of hair out of your face. “Plus, I��d bet credits on there being plenty of hot water right now.”

Ben considered what you had said, chewing on his lip as he studied you, completely soaked before him.

You shifted your weight under the intensity of his stare.

“There’s only one way to find out,” he said, a tiny smirk pulling at the corners of his mouth.

Before you could open your mouth to respond, Ben lunged towards you and wrapped his arms around your waist, effortlessly lifting you off the ground.

“Put me down!” you cried through a string of giggles. Your weak attempts to free yourself earned a laugh from your captor.

“Not yet,” Ben said as he set you down, only to adjust his grip and pick you up again, this time holding you firmly against his chest. “We have to get in the shower first.”

“What, no! We can’t hide in the same stall—what if someone comes in?” You considered fighting back again, but knew it would ultimately be futile.

With your hands wrapped behind his neck, he carried you down the line of stalls.

“They won’t know.”

He can’t be serious, can he? you asked yourself, your mind teetering between logic and desire.

“Seriously, we could get caught!” There was a hint of sincerity in your tone, a vain attempt at rationality amidst the excitement.

“Caught doing what, exactly?” he asked wryly, pulling back the curtain to the last stall in the line.

“I…I don’t know,” you muttered, rolling your eyes as your feet hit the floor, your legs weakly supporting your weight. He didn’t deserve the satisfaction of hearing you say what you meant.

Ben drew the curtain closed, sealing you inside the white-tiled walls with him. “I was just going to warm you up,” he said, snaking his hands up your waist, leaving behind a trail of gooseflesh on your skin. His eyes flitted down to your lips, then to your neck and chest, admiring you as if you were a work of art instead of a rain-soaked mess wrapped in Jedi robes.

“I’m sure you were.” Your hands found their way back to behind his neck, as if resting there was second nature to them. “I’m sure you had no ulterior motive for bringing me in here.”

A fleeting twitch under his eye confirmed exactly what his motive was, but you knew he wasn’t going to admit it. No, you could tell he was enjoying this banter far too much to give in immediately.

“Someone’s got their mind in the gutter.”

You stretched your neck up and traced a finger down his chest, your lips barely an inch away from his. “Like you’re so innocent yourself, Solo.”

He remained stoic, and without so much as twitching his fingers, he manipulated the Force to turn the faucet on, a faint squeak the only evidence of the motion. Cold water sprayed from the spout, hitting the back of your head and running down your spine.

You gasped at the sensation, jumping back and nearly out of his grasp. His strong arms anchored you in your place. As if you hadn’t spent enough time in the cold rain today.

“Very funny,” you said flatly, trying to pry his hands off of you to escape the unrelenting stream. Unfortunately for you, his hold was stronger than your will to pull away from him.

“It actually was very funny,” he said, suppressing a laugh with his hand. “You should’ve seen the look on your face.”

If the water weren’t beginning to warm up, you might have spontaneously learned how to slap someone with the Force. Instead, you silently shot daggers at him. You hated how amused he was, but in the same breath, you couldn’t deny that seeing him like this made your heart swell.

A beat passed before either of you spoke again—you, standing proudly with your arms crossed, and Ben, leaning closer towards you, his eyes darting between yours and your lips.

“C’mon, princess. I promised that I’d make it up to you, didn’t I?”

His lips captured yours in a tender kiss, his grip on your waist tightening as he kneaded your flesh beneath the wet fabric. A soft moan vibrated across your lips as you raked your fingers through his hair, his damp locks clinging to you like static. His warm breath fanned over your skin as he leaned down, dragging his lips along your jaw and neck, pausing over your hammering pulse.

“And how exactly are you going to make it up to me?” You rolled your head to the side, giving him full access to the sensitive skin. Blood rushed to your head as he worked down your neck, making you almost dizzy.

“If I tell you, then it’ll ruin the surprise.”

His words sent lightning through your body, causing heat to pool between your legs. Your clothing felt all too constricting, weighing heavily on your limbs. Fuck what you had said earlier—you’d find a way to get these back on later.

“Fine,” you huffed. “If you won’t tell me, then you’d better show me.”

As if you had just granted him the permission he had been waiting for, Ben pushed your hips into the wall, sending your back colliding with the tile. He left a few more rough kisses on your neck before straightening his back, his massive frame now towering over you. His irises were nearly consumed by the void of his pupils as he scanned you, his gaze lowering down your figure.

“I don’t think I can when you’ve got all these clothes on,” he said, his voice low and raspy.

Your knees threatened to buckle at his words, the possibility of turning into a puddle becoming more likely with each passing second.

Without hesitation, you lifted your arms from his neck and fumbled blindly for your belt knot, eventually finding it and pulling it loose. Seemingly in slow motion, the saturated material tumbled down your body and landed on top of your boots. Why were those still on, anyways? You made quick work of slipping them off your feet as Ben watched, a smirk playing on his lips.

“For someone who thinks we’re going to get caught, you sure are eager.”

The last boot fell from your grasp, hitting the floor with a heavy thunk. “Hardly.”

His hands skated over your shoulders as he peeled off the soaked fabric, his touch lingering as he pushed the cloth down your arms and onto the tile floor.

All that remained was your undershirt and bra, the gray material stretched taut against your skin, outlining the contours of your clavicle and chest.

“I think I can change that,” he whispered as he took your face in his hands and kissed you deeply.

The pressure of his lips was intoxicating, a sensation you could never get enough of.

He pinned you against the wall with his weight, parting your legs with his thigh to hold you in place. A rough hand smoothed down your jaw and neck before settling on your breast.

His touch felt like a live wire, sending a current of electricity through your nerves. Through the material, his thumb skimmed over your nipple, amplifying the heat building between your legs. A familiar sensation blossomed in your stomach, even through the layers of clothing separating you two.

Ben hooked his fingers under the hem of your undershirt, tugging it up your body until it gathered below your neck. Your bra followed suit, the flimsy material squeezing your chest as it rolled up.

He pulled back, leaving your lips tingling and plump. His eyes traveled down to your exposed skin, pausing there as if he were memorizing the image before him.

“You’re absolutely divine, you know that?” he said as he leaned down, taking a stiff nipple in his mouth. His plush lips created the most heavenly suction around it, tugging lightly at the skin.

“So I’m told,” you replied, stifling a moan as you rolled your head back, letting your eyes fall shut.

The world around you became dull as you focused on the feeling of his tongue swirling around your delicate bud. A whimper escaped your lips, nearly drowned out by the sound of water hitting the tile. The noise spurred Ben to twist your free nipple between his thumb and index finger, drawing another moan from you.

Suddenly, a warm, buzzing sensation wrapped around your clit, an invisible hand massaging you.

Your eyes shot open. “Fuck—Ben!” you gasped, pressing your thighs together as the pressure grew. “Is that?”

He locked eyes with you, dragging his teeth gently over your rigid nipple as he stood, a small—but wicked—smile on his face.

“Yes,” he said, kneading your breasts as he spoke. “It is.”

“How?” Your voice was raspy, rushed between sharp breaths as pleasure spread throughout your body.

“Just a little Force manipulation,” he said, his words coming out as a baritone growl. “I’ll teach you sometime.”

He dipped his head back down, closing his lips around the skin of your throat in wet, greedy kisses.

The coil of bliss tightened in your stomach, threatening to send you over the precipice at any moment. The Force was unrelenting around your clit, rolling in what felt like the perfect pattern to draw you closer to your release.

Between the Force, Ben’s lips, and his dexterous fingers, your nerves were blazing, just short of overwhelmed.

“It feels so good,” you moaned into his ear.

“You like that, baby?” he growled, nipping at the skin of your throat.

““Yes, fuck! I’m so close, Ben!” you cried, clinging to his shoulders for support.

You were barely coherent, your words trapped between wanton breaths, stringing together into one desperate plea. The energy swirling between your legs intensified, driving you closer to your peak.

“I want you to come for me,” he growled into your skin, his teeth grazing your jaw.

That was all it took for the pressure in your core burst, flooding your body with raw, blinding ecstasy. For a brief moment, you felt weightless, as if the ground beneath you had disappeared.

Ben kept you pressed against the wall with his thigh, his fingers bruising your breasts as he carried you through your high. Slowly, the flames of pleasure ceased, leaving behind flickering embers throughout your body.

The sensation of soft lips against yours pulled you from your haze, grounding you in reality. You regained your focus, your heavy eyelids fluttering open to see the man before you.

He looked nothing short of ethereal, his sharp nose dripping water over his full lips, his fair skin flushed with color in the steam of the shower.

“That was incredible,” you panted, your chest heaving as you inhaled the humid air. “How long have you been hiding that trick up your sleeve?”

“Since about…” He glanced at his watch. “Five minutes ago.”

An airy giggle spilled from your lips. Ben’s effortless charisma was hypnotizing, and possibly one of your favorite things about him. It felt like a privilege to be charmed by him, to see this side of him on display.

And to think that less than a day ago you had been ready to take off into the galaxy and live as a true Jedi, entirely free from attachments.

“I’m impressed,” you said, pulling your lower lip between your teeth, blood rushing to the thin skin as you released it.

Mist burned your eyes as the water ricocheted off your bodies, splashing onto the porcelain tiles surrounding you. The chemicals that had flooded your veins had begun to dissipate, the cloud of bliss slowly lifting from your nerves.

Ben worked your clothing back into place, smoothing out the wet wrinkles with his palms. His touch was remarkably tender, especially considering the sheer size of his hands. His callouses occasionally snagged on the material as he skimmed over it, a reminder of his years of experience with a lightsaber.

With one final tug on your undershirt, Ben stepped aside from the cascade of hot water, reaching to turn off the faucet.

If he thought he could get away that easily, he was mistaken. You shot out a shaky hand, wrapping your fingers around his wrist in protest as you pulled him back under the stream.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

He blinked at you. “I’m…getting out?”

“But we’re just starting to warm up,” you purred, easing the grip on his wrist and batting your lashes up at him. “Besides, do you really want to leave with this?”

With your other hand, you lazily brushed over the bulge in his pants, giving it a firm squeeze at the base.

An unsteady breath hitched in his throat as you grabbed him, his cock twitching against your fingers. You could feel his pulse hammering against your fingertips that gripped his wrist, further evidenced by the pink hue flushing his cheeks.

“We probably should get back, j-just in case someone’s looking for us,” he stammered unconvincingly.

“Mmm, now you care about being responsible.” You dropped his wrist and tugged at the waistband of his pants, snapping it against his wet skin. “Always the hypocrite…”

Ben was lost for words, his dark eyes following you as you sank to the floor, your knees barely cushioned by the pile of discarded robes.

The wet fabric of his pants clung to his hardened length, pulled tight against his hot skin. You hooked your fingers around the waistband, looking up at him through wet lashes for permission.

“Let me take care of you, baby.”

He sucked in a sharp breath and nodded, watching as your fingers slid further down the band.

You dragged his pants past his hips, exposing the drenched material constricting his length. Fuck, he was so big. Not that you had somehow forgotten in the past few days, but seeing it again made your stomach flutter.

You pressed your lips against the fabric, kissing along the line of his cock. With one last, slow kiss on the head of it, you met his gaze, finding his dark eyes locked on you.

“Holy shit,” he breathed, reaching down to cup your cheek.

Heat rolled through your chest as you watched him, his lips parted and pupils wide. His wet hair framed his face like dark curtains, dripping onto you.

Encouraged by his words, you kissed the head again, letting your lips linger a moment longer this time. He let out a low groan, sending warmth coursing through your veins.

You slipped your hand under the fabric and pulled his cock free from its confines. Sheer confidence had gotten you this far, but now your actions had to match your boldness. With anyone else, you would’ve felt intimidated, but with Ben, you relaxed and let your intuition guide you.

You wrapped your fingers around the shaft and gave it a few slow pumps, testing how he felt in your grip. Ben sucked air through his teeth, his dark brows drawn together.

Heat licked between your legs, inciting you to wrap your lips around the head of his cock and take it into your mouth.

The size filled your mouth almost immediately as you pushed further, stroking the length that couldn’t fit with your hand. You swirled your tongue over the head, slowly taking him deeper.

“Fuck,” he hissed, weaving his fingers into your hair. “You look so beautiful like this.”

The muscles in your jaw and cheeks slowly relaxed, stretching to accommodate for his size. Saliva pooled in your mouth, spilling out with every movement of your head, running down your chin and chest.

Ben rolled his head back, looking at the ceiling to gather himself as a quiet expletive fell from his lips.

Your own moans vibrated against him as you took him deeper, testing your limit. His hips bucked at this, almost triggering your gag reflex as tears pricked at your eyes.

“You feel so fucking good,” he groaned, his eyes pinched shut in bliss.

Between his praise, the pressure tugging at your roots, and the ache between your legs, your own need was demanding attention. But you stayed focused.

A moment later, you pulled away, gasping for air as you continued to pump him in your hand, his length now coated in saliva. Water dripped onto your face as you peered up at him, watching his chest rise and fall as your hand moved.

You took him back into your mouth, working faster than before to please him, eyes wide as you looked at him. He was lost in his pleasure, the sight of which prompted you to suck harder, to swirl your tongue over his head with more pressure.

“Fuck, baby, I’m gonna come–”

A rumble from your throat acknowledged his words, your pace unwavering on his throbbing cock. The faint taste of salt spread over your tongue, and before you knew it, Ben’s face was twisted in pleasure, his muscles tensing as he filled your mouth with ropes of hot, sticky cum.

Sinful words fell from his lips as you continued to suck gently, a mixture of saliva and cum now spilling from your chin. Knowing that it was your good work that had brought him this euphoria caused pride to swell in your chest.

You sat back on your heels, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand as you watched him come down from his high.

“My fucking god,” Ben gasped, trying to steady his breath. “When did you learn how to do that?”

“Hmm, like five minutes ago?” you quoted him, smiling up at him.

He scoffed and shook his head amusedly as he pulled his pants back over his hips. When you moved to stand, your knees were aching and your legs were wobbly, causing you to grab at the slick shower wall for support.

Ben reached under your arms, bracing you with his fierce grip.

“Thanks,” you whispered.

You dipped your face into the hot stream, rinsing away the layer of spit around your mouth. A grin pulled at the corner of your lips as you rubbed your face, still high on the confidence surging through you.

You turned the faucet and it squeaked to a stop, leaving you both cold in its absence.

“Stay here, I’ll go get us some towels,” Ben said, planting a soft kiss to your tingling lips before ducking out of the shower.

Your head spun as you leaned against the tile wall, relishing in what had just happened. So much had happened these past few days and you hadn’t even begun processing it all. This brief moment of silence allowed you to start.

The door creaked open, indicating that Ben was leaving as expected. What you didn’t anticipate, however, was a new, sharp voice slicing through the air.

“Oh, excuse me,” the voice said with a grunt, evidently colliding with Ben as he exited.

The blood coursing through your veins turned to ice, flushing the color from your skin. You could recognize Voe’s voice anywhere.

57 notes · View notes