Chapter Text
It had been a grand total of one month. One month since the battle on Crait, and one month since Rey rejected Kylo's proposal.
No, she thought. It wasn't a proposal. It was an offer. To speak of it like a proposal meant it was on some level romantic and that was a concept she couldn't afford. Especially now, as the Resistance settled into its new base and Rey was able to stretch her legs and wander off into the jungle to breathe.
One. Month.
And she was dying of thirst.
She was no stranger to the flickerings of desire; she had fleeting sensations of it on Jakku but was too focused on living to see the blazing hot sun the next day while enduring her endless wait for something—as Kylo put it so clumsily—that didn't want her.
Kylo Ren. That was a name that did nothing but cause inherent frustration. She loathed that he hid behind the mask. She loathed that stupid Kylo Ren forced her hand. Offered her something and went someplace she couldn't follow.
Rey loathed that she was dying for him. She wanted sweet, sensible, passionate Ben Solo. She wanted everything, from his caring nature to his most brutal. The worst part, she wanted to climb Kylo Ren and have her way with him. Her supposed enemy. It was one thing to want to be swept away in his arms, it was another to desire to sleep with him.
It didn't help the two just stared at each other whenever the Force decided to connect them, frequently. No words were spoken, just stares being exchanged, and sometimes they go to pretending they couldn't see the other until the bond closed.
She took her makeshift staff and with much aggression, practiced forms against a tree, trying to relieve herself of the thoughts of what could have been. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid.
Stupid Ben Solo. Stupid Kylo Ren.
Some part of her in the back of her mind wished she had taken his hand.
It had been one month. One single month since Rey rejected his proposal.
One month since he took over the First Order and Kylo couldn't get her off his mind no matter what he did.
Most nights he would toss and turn in his bed and give up trying to sleep. Even though the voice of Snoke was gone and he was allowed for once in his life some freedom, Kylo couldn’t find peace. Freedom came with a price. He was alone in his head.
Well, almost.
Rey took up space rent-free and he couldn't even blame her. He was absolutely gone for her the second his grandfather's lightsaber flew to her grip in the forest. The Force bonded them together, shoving her right at the fucking forefront of his mind. But, he savored every single moment the Force connected them so he couldn't even blame that for his troubles. He elected to blame himself.
He turned over in his black silk bed, annoyed once again that Rey was on his mind. A report came in with no signs of the Resistance anywhere. Frustration shook his fist as he punched a wall at the news. He just wanted to find the Resistance for one singular reason and it was Rey. Always Rey.
Rey. Rey. Rey.
The bond would open at least once a day, sometimes several. Today, she had been training while he sat in on one of General Hux's long dull bureaucratic meetings. Sweat formed on her temple. Her strays clung to her cheeks, her half-done hair tousled and falling down her back. A trail of sweat dripped down the crest of her breasts, her chest falling and riding with each breath she took. Her thighs quivered with hints of exhaustion. The temptation to reach out and touch the bare skin of her chest with bare hands, and rip her clothes off just to see her in her raw, untamed state, made him tense up right there in that meeting. He couldn’t leave fast enough.
Kylo let out an annoyed sigh at his intrusive thoughts and reached down beneath his waistband and took himself into his hand. Her lovely face invaded his imagination. Beautiful, even when she was fierce, when she was sad, when she was disappointed. That last one stung the most. He earned her looking upon him in disappointment as she closed the door.
Kylo didn't deserve her. He was getting off at the mere fucking thought of her.
Losing himself into his dirty fantasy, he thinks of her small chest and how he would be able to grasp one of her breasts in just one hand. How her quivering thighs might feel around his waist. How her lips might part in moans of pleasure beneath him. How her hot tight cunt might squeeze around his cock.
With a groan, he came in his hand, warped with shame and a small semblance of relief. All that would remain a fantasy. Kylo didn't want to think about her anymore, in any way.
He fell into another fruitless sleep.
The month following Crait, rules were established in the Resistance. The first rule was to dedicate yourself to the cause and never betray it. That was obvious. The second one was to be fair to your subordinates.
The third rule was unspoken: do not piss off the Last Jedi.
The fourth one was a result of the third one: don't mention Kylo Ren around her.
Sometimes people forget the rules.
"You took the Falcon and ran off!" Poe Dameron berated her.
She rolled her eyes. "I went and got you the supplies you complained about. You're welcome."
"If Kylo Ren saw that ship…"
Finn and Rose took a step back, smarter, and less willing to die than Poe was at that moment.
“Big mistake,” Finn muttered under his breath.
Rey scoffed. Her temper was high already—not enough sleep from the previous night. And she was frustrated sexually. But bringing up Kylo Ren was raising her blood pressure and irritation to a new level. Thinking about her desire to climb that tall tree of a man—her enemy, the Resistance's enemy—brought on the urge to punch something.
"What about Kylo Ren?" she fired back, eyes narrowed and nostrils flaring.
Poe took a step back, taking notes from Finn. "He is out for your blood. He is the Jedi Killer."
"And? He's an over-dramatic nerf-herder too. He would rather kill me himself in a duel to the death."
Every bit of that last sentence she was spouting out was a complete lie, but she could never spill the truth. She trusted that Kylo would never hurt her, somehow. And from what she gathered from various Resistance intel, he was probably searching for her. Probably trying to win her back. He was relentless.
Stupid. She really needed to get him off her mind.
She stalked off to her room, hearing Finn telling Poe, “You just had to bring up Kylo Ren.”
Slamming and locking her door, she tossed off her gear, leaving her in only her grey robes, and flopped onto her small bed to stare at the ceiling. Rey really should go out into the dense jungle to relieve her anger at an innocent tree, but her sexual frustration has got to go.
But something held her there, something that stopped her. She shouldn't be thinking about Supreme Leader Kylo Ren like this. His hair, full and luscious even when tousled in the heat of battle, his very full lips that she was tempted to kiss in that very elevator once, his large and sculpted frame that could easily cover hers. It was hard to let him go, even though she flat out reject his propos—offer. She wanted to hate him for being so… attractive.
Rey relaxed her tense muscles, putting aside her frustration towards everything for the moment. Her anger mixed with disappointment towards her enemy not mattering right now when she had needs to see to. It was wrong to think of him this way, but it was her own body and who was going to know? Certainly not Finn. Or Poe. Or Rose. Or even Leia.
Rey would never betray the Resistance, but she had needs. Important needs.
She pushed aside one of her grey wraps and slipped her fingers into her leggings, brushing past her panties into her already wet heat. She teased her skin, her folds, before dipping her thin fingers within. She let out a quieted moan, trying to imagine it was Kylo’s own hands touching her. Preferably in leather. His hands had to span her waist at least from what she could tell. Her arousal rose as she glided her fingers over her sensitive cilt and down into her cunt, slipping one finger inside.
She really wished it was his fingers inside of her, or even his cock.
"Ben," she gasped out, trying desperately to reach deeper with her second finger.
"Rey?"
Rey’s eyes snapped open. She scrambled off her bunk and shoved her hand out of her leggings. Her cheeks flushed with her messy hair as she stared in horror and irritation at the man of her desires before her.
Why did the Force have to do this to her?
Kylo had a rather shit day. Well, more than usual.
First, he had suspicions that Armitage Hux circumvented his authority in regards to the troops, and that was a headache in and of itself particularly because Hux denied it and Kylo could read his mind clear as day. Hux got a warning in the form of a partial force-choke.
Second, nothing on the Resistance. In fact, the only thing detailed in the report was the sighting of the Millennium Falcon but they lost track of it in an instant. He knew who was piloting that hunk of junk. The irritation he had been so close to finding her and speaking to her in the flesh made him take his lightsaber to an unsuspecting wall.
“Find. That. Ship,” he growled out. “And bring it in, unharmed, or face the consequences.”
The poor trembling lieutenant—Mitaka—nodded with haste. “Yes my Lord.”
The Knights of Ren also knew never to stand in the pathway of a pissed off Kylo Ren. They didn’t have a death wish.
When he returned to his quarters, he tossed his lightsaber aside and ran his leather-gloved hand through his hair. He didn’t know what to do anymore. His plans all had Rey at the center of them all and without her, he was lost. And angry, and really fucking horny.
The quiet hum of the bond froze him in place before he could move to remove his gloves and get himself off. He turned around and fully hardened at the magnificent sight.
Kylo hadn't anticipated the Force would connect him to Rey in his quarters in the heat of his anger. Or have her on his bed of silk sheets moaning with her hand between her still-clothed legs.
Worst of all, he could detect her every emotion. The bond was a curse and a blessing. Her desire was singing loudly, and she was craving him, all of him.
And then she said his name.
It all happened so fast, he had to say something .
“Rey,” he choked out.
She scrambled off his bed, hand behind her back in shame. Her lovely face was flushed and framed by her stray hair. Her grey robes were askew as she looked upon him with a mix of horror and disdain.
Fuck.