A/N: Hell, I have no idea what this really is. It started out as a PG-rated stare down somewhere in the galaxy and ended up as a sex pollen porn party with plot. And fluff and feels. And incest (I decided to go with cousins because there just has to be one more Skywalker). So if this isn't your cup of coffee, please move on.
I admire the fandom for ignoring all the hate it gets for loving this ship and is like WE STILL SHIP IT. So, in a way, this is a Christmas gift from me to all the Reylo shippers out there. :)
Disclaimer: I own neither the show nor the characters. I don't earn any money with this piece. I just do it for fun.
Rey can't say who's more surprised — him or her.
It's not Resistance business that has led her to this planet, she's here because she needs some spare parts for her shuttle, otherwise she wouldn't have even stopped by, but his reason for being here is a complete mystery to her and yet something tells her it won't be long before she finds out.
A quick use of the Force assures her he's alone and she plans to use it in her favor. She needs to get him as far away as possible from the village before things get out of control.
And they will. She can sense his emotions boiling, an angry swirling red, and without a word, Rey turns around and runs.
She doesn't hear the warning shout of the Elder of the village.
Her lungs are burning, her heart is racing, but Rey pushes herself further - just as few more steps before it's safe to take him one without the fear of collateral damage.
There's the unmistakable sound of a lightsaber igniting and she throws herself forward, past the line of trees and into a small clearing. She comes up with her own lightsaber activated, parries Kylo's attack effortlessly and drives him back.
With an almost violent move, Kylo removes his helmet and lets it drop to the ground, eyes ablaze as they meet hers, and suddenly she knows, why he's here.
"You found out." It's not a question. She should have known that sooner or later word would reach him too. Things like this tend to spread like wildfire.
He laughs but it's empty and bitter, and curls his lips into a smirk. "Rey Skywalker." There are so many emotions wound around that name, she doesn't even know where to start. "Daughter of Luke Skywalker, granddaughter of Darth Vader—"
"That's not his name!" she snaps at him, her own anger flaring through her. "That's not who he was!"
"Yes, it was!" he yells. "That was his true self, don't you see? And we are his legacy. You and I—"
"There is no we!" She cuts him off, her words and tone sharp. "I am nothing like you!"
"We are more alike than you think, cousin," he mocks her, taking a step forward, and she can feel his mind brushing against hers.
"Stay out of my head." Rey glares at him. "I'm not like you. I didn't betray my uncle. I didn't kill my father." Part of her knows she's provoking him on purpose but another part of her is so sick of his self-righteousness and just wants to see him shatter into a million pieces. Her father would tell that this is not the way but Kylo and her have never played by the rules. "I am not someone's puppet, Ben."
"Don't call me that!" He snarls, eyes flashing, and lunges towards her, closing the distance between them with alarming speed, and Rey has just enough time to position herself before the beams of their lightsabers cross. "That name is dead, there is only Kylo Ren now. The Dark Side has always been my destiny. As it is yours."
Kylo presses forward, physically and mentally, and Rey grits her teeth as she fights to hold him off. "Come with me, Rey. Let me show you." His voice is gentle all of the sudden, almost pleading, so at odds with the ferocity of his emotions wrapping around her, but she doesn't let herself be lured in and shoves him back.
"Never," she hisses, pouring all the anger, hate and disgust into that one word, and Kylo's face twists into a mask of rage, his scar standing out in a stark white, before he charges at her with a howl that could rivals Chewie's.
Energy flares as he strikes again and again, and there's more than just his fury pulsing through the Force as he attacks, it's something Rey can't quite name but that leaves a strange sort of feeling in her chest that she could not explain if she tried. It unsettles her and she needs to find a way to turn the tables in her favor, to be the one who controls the battle.
When she senses a fallen tree trunk behind her, she sees her chance, takes a step to her right, twists and lets Kylo's blow slide off to the side and into the trunk. As his beam cuts into the dead wood, golden dust explodes in a puff into the air and wafts up their noses. He coughs, she sneezes and then they both freeze, staring at each other in growing horror.
Desiderium, more commonly known as the Mist of Desire, one of the most powerful and rarest aphrodisiac in the galaxy. Usually it's carefully measured and diluted with water, too potent otherwise, but they just inhaled it pure.
Oh God, Rey thinks as she feels heat slide down her throat, pooling low in her stomach before spreading out and igniting her mind and body. This can't be happening, not to her, and certainly not with him of all people.
Kylo switches his lightsaber off and lets it drop, his hands curling into fists. He's staring at her with dark eyes, hunger and something else in them, and she tenses. She watches as he looks away, jaw clenched, and she wants to bite at the angle of his jaw, wants to follow the line with her tongue, wants to—
"Rey," Kylo says, and there's a low, needy rasp to his voice, and she snaps out of the haze, her eyes meeting his, and it's not just mortification and embarrassment that let blood rush to her cheeks.
"No," she whispers, her switched-off lightsaber joining his on the ground as she stumbles backwards, no longer graceful but clumsy, the air too sharp against her over-sensitive skin. "No," Rey repeats, desperate to control herself, but her blood is burning and her breath is quickening.
Eyes fixed on her, he follows and mirrors her steps, the look on his face full of open want, and she holds her hand up. "Don't," is all she gets out, and something twists deep in her gut before blooming hot and dark as Kylo follows her order and forces himself to stop and stay where he is, exhaling through his teeth.
Her nails dig into her palms, the pain sharpening her mind, giving her a second's clarity, and Rey takes another step backwards, trying to ignore the way his eyes darken even further at her action. "This is wrong. You and I—We can't—"
Kylo makes a sound, half-laugh and half-snort, and shakes his head. "Don't lie to yourself, Rey." There's something predatory in the way he tilts his head, something that ratchets up the tension pulsing through her and sends a shiver down her spine. "We both know you've thought about me." He resumes walking towards her as if his words have broken the spell she had him under. "Just like I have thought about you."
God, how she hates him, hates him because he's speaking the truth, a truth she's tried to bury in the darkest corner of her mind but is now laid bare. She has thought of him, dreamed of him in the darkness of her room, dreamed of them, only to wake in the twisted sheets of her bed. If it was bad before she learned of their relation, it got only worse afterwards, and no matter how hard she's tried to banish him from her mind, break the link their first encounter has left them with, he has always found his way back to her.
She squeezes her eyes shut in a last attempt of blocking him out, but all those forbidden dreams and thoughts flash before her mind's eye instead, image after image, and it's not just the aphrodisiac amplifying them, Kylo is there too, using the link to feed their intensity.
With a low cry, she opens her eyes and flings her hand out, but there's no real force behind it, her body and mind already weakened by the need and want rushing through her, and all she manages is to bring him to his knees.
Her mouth goes dry and she swallows fast at the picture he presents like this, kneeling there on the ground, panting harsh and loud, his chest rising and falling with effort as his body and mind strain against her hold.
He is at her mercy, and arousal shoots through her like lightening as she thinks about how easy it would be to keep him like this, sink her fingers into his sweat-dampened hair as she settles into his lap and watch his mouth drop open on a wordless sound as she grounds down. She imagines slipping her fingers past the waistband of his pants and wrap her fingers around—
Rey lets out a chocked breath as she throws herself out of the fantasy that's not just her own, and stares at him with wide eyes, her hands trembling slightly.
"I hate you," she breathes.
"I know." Kylo licks his lips and she can't look away. "But you still want me." He struggles against her hold, fighting her harder than before. "And I want you."
She staggers back then, her back hitting a tree trunk, and the contact sets off a wave of a thousands tiny electric shocks, coursing through her nerves, and her concentration wavers for a second.
It's all he needs.
He's on his feet before she can react, his eyes almost feral as he pulls off his gloves and stalks towards her. He crowds her back into the trunk, and she lets him, she lets him, and when his hands settle on her hips, fingers digging into her skin through her tunic, the world whites out for a heartbeat.
There is no going back now.
Need burns hot, she wants she wants him wants him, and just this once flitters through her mind as her body makes the choice for her and her hands drag him closer.
Not enough his mind whispers back as he lifts her up and braces her body against the trunk. Never enough.
Her legs wrap around his waist and her head falls back as she feels the hard pressure of him through the layers of their clothes. She rolls her hips and he pushes back, moaning her name as his fingers tug at the neckline of her tunic, his mouth wet on her collarbone before he drags it up her throat, and she can feel lips, tongue and teeth. His breath is hot on her ear as Kylo tells her what he wants to do to her, what he wants her to do to him, the pictures he's painting running through her mind like a holovid, and she hears a high keening noise.
It's her, Rey realizes, and she does it again as he slips a hand into her pants and nudges past her underwear, fingers sliding easily through her already slick folds, and presses not one but two fingers into her without a warning. She twists in his grasp, arching into his touch, the move pushing his fingers into her more deeply, and the pleasure bursting through her has her biting her lip so hard it hurts.
Her forehead drops to his shoulder and she moans as Kylo draws the length of his fingers out of her in a torturously slow motion, only to cry out again as his fingers slide back inside her. He does it again and again, and all she can do is grip his coat and hold on, her whole body singing, every inch of her alight.
The world is rapidly spiralling out of control and she knows she's going to come, come at his hands, and she shudders when she hears him think yes, forceful and heated, shivers when she feels the word repeated against her skin before he pulls back to look at her.
His face is covered with a fine sheen of sweat, his pupils dilated and his expression is dark and intense, almost fierce, and then Kylo is surging up - and Rey meets him halfway. He kisses her while she comes, bucking against his hand, and muffles her cry that could have been his name with his mouth.
She clings to him and kisses him back, can taste salt, sweat and his own need on his tongue, and she gives in, slides her hand down and presses it against the front of his pants.
"Rey," he gasps into her mouth, his knees buckling, and when they tumble to the ground, it's just like the fantasy from before. She ends up straddling him, one hand on his chest, the other already unfastening his pants, and when she wraps her fingers around his cock, she watches hungrily as Kylo arches his neck, his mouth dropping open and his fingers clawing at the ground beneath him.
He's hot and heavy in her hand, and she likes that, licks her lip, and he groans, his hands twitching. Rey senses his need to touch her, anywhere, everywhere, but she leans down, his pulse thrumming fast against her tongue as she presses her lips to his exposed throat, and thinks, no. His voice strangles in the drag of a moan that's her name and she begins to move her hand in slow strokes. His restraint is impressive, she has always known how much Kylo needs to be control, but when it comes to her, he's willingly to give it up, likes it even, and the way he's surrendering to her now sends a dark thrill through her.
She keeps going until his back is arching with each upwards stroke and he's moving restlessly beneath her, until he's pleading and begging, pleasepleaseplease, his voice echoing through the woods and her mind. Only then she says, yes, and he closes his eyes and gasps for breath, his hands finding her hips and clutching them hard enough to bruise as he comes over her hand.
When he opens his eyes again and they meet hers, tension winds even tighter around them than before, the flash of heated desire crossing his face echoing the liquid want bubbling in her veins, and he rears up under her then, curling his fingers almost possessively around the back of her neck before pressing his mouth against hers again. It's a hard, urgent kiss, the force of it stealing her breath and leaving her unbearably lightheaded, and she doesn't notice his other hand moving between her legs until there's a ripping noise accompanied by a sudden chill.
She tears out of the kiss when she feels him push against her and entwines her fingers tight in his hair but he has stopped anyway and is just looking up at her. He's waiting for something, waiting for her to take the final step, Rey realizes, because it has to be her, and it feels like she's stepping off the edge and taking flight as she sinks down onto him.
His breath catches in his throat at the same time that hers releases in a rush, and sharp shards of pleasure surge through her as he stretches her. She moans and welcomes the burning sensation, craves it even, because it feels good, he feels good inside of her, and it's too much and not enough at the same time.
Kylo drops his head to her shoulder with a groan when he's finally in, mouth hot on her skin, branding her whole being when he says, I wanted you the first time I saw you, and Rey knows she will have a hard time forgetting them, maybe will never be able to.
She pushes at his chest until he lies back down, tells herself she is creating distance, but the angle of him inside of her is even better like this, and her hips begin to move of their own accord. Heat sparks up her spine and then down again, and Rey braces herself against his chest as she leans forward, and Kylo makes a thin, startled noise as she tightens around him.
He thrusts up and matches her rhythm, his hands finding her hips again and pulling her down harder each time she rocks down. Her body grows tighter and tighter, muscles flexing and pulling taut, skin slick with sweat and prickling with every brush of air, and it's the same for him, like a feedback loop she can feel the sensations coursing from his body and mind to her and back.
His lips part and Rey feels his rhythm breaking up, feels herself falling apart, and when the tension pulls tighter and snaps, she throws her head back and moans, pulsing tight around the width of him. Kylo jerks under her then, she feels him hot and deep and wet inside her, and he chants her name as he comes too.
She slumps against him, tiny aftershocks of her orgasm shivering through her, and he palms the back of her head, pulls her to him and kisses her again, a breathless slide of tongue and lips, and when he rolls them over, her body spread under him, she wraps her arms around his shoulders and her legs around his waist.
Her hands push at his cloak, slip under it and seek out skin, tracing the scars they find there before fingernails dig into his back as he kisses her deeper and rocks into her again, tiny spots of golden light bursting out across the space behind her eyes as the heat builds up again, and—
Rey wakes with a start, her muscles resisting the too sudden movement, and she winces slightly as she slowly rolls on her back. She's naked, wrapped in a blanket, and even before she reaches out with the Force, she knows she's alone. Kylo is no longer on the planet. For a long moment, she stares up at the evening sky and waits for the guilt to set in but it's absent from the emotions swirling inside her, and Rey sighs, not really surprised.
It had been a long time coming. They had been just waiting to happen. And God, did they happen. Heat sweeps through her as she remembers what they had done, done with each other, to each other (the look of broken, desperate desire in his eyes as she makes him come with her hands, her lips and her tongue - his body covering hers, pinning her to the ground as he settles between her legs and pushes into her slowly, thick and deep - straddling his lap, her arms wrapped tight around him and his hands skating over her body as they rock together - pushing him down onto the ground again and riding him, making him catch his breath over and over again until he's doing nothing but begging her - the way he kisses his way down her body, worshipping her even while he's taking her apart with his fingers and mouth), and mortified, she turns her head, hiding her flaming face in the blanket, and takes a calming breath.
It smells like him, she thinks, embarrassment forgotten as she draws back and sits up to look more closely at what she mistook for a blanket. It's his black coat, carefully arranged to keep her warm, and Rey brushes her fingers over it thoughtfully, the look in her eyes distant as she watches the last rays of sunlight slowly disappearing behind the horizon.
It hadn't been the Desiderium. They could have easily found release at their own hands or go to the village and ask for a Relief Potion but they hadn't. Instead they had used the aphrodisiac as an excuse to give into feelings that have been building for months now, and now nothing would ever be the same again.
Rey sighs again. She's out of her depth here, all of this, they, were never supposed to happen, they will never be on the same side, he's the Dark and she is the Light, and worse yet, they're related, but neither of these things stopped them, and now all she can do is deal with the fallout as best as possible.
A light breeze has her shiver, reminding her of her current state of undress, and with a little shake of her head, she clears her mind. It's time find her clothes. She's going to leave the pondering of how-to for later, when she's safely back on her ship and far away from this planet as possible because she's not going to be so naive and believe he won't consider coming back with a division of stormtroopers to take her prisoner.
She twists a little and moves to her knees and...stops mid-movement. Her clothes lie neatly folded on the ground beside her, right next to her lightsaber and a crate she has never seen before. Puzzled and a little wary, Rey shuffles towards it, probes it with the Force and is more than stunned to find out that it contains the parts she's been supposed to pick up from the village's merchant.
Why would he do this? she wonders, and suspicion has her reaching further with the Force then, just to make sure, but she finds nothing, he hasn't tampered with any of the parts or planted any tracking devices on them.
It doesn't make sense, unless she considers the impossible, and could it really be?
Rey sits back and blinks slowly, feeling the echo of the words he'd whispered against her skin, over and over again, and maybe, maybe the darkness isn't as impenetrable as she has thought.
Turning away from the crate, she reaches for her clothes. Her pants are on top and she blushes again as she remembers what Kylo had done to them, but when she feels for the tear, all she finds is a tiny and perfectly aligned line of stitches. Just like the stitching she had to learn during her training. A Jedi has to be prepared for everything, even a tear in his clothes, her father had said, but she's pretty sure he hadn't this kind of scenario in mind.
Laughter bubbles up inside her as she imagines Kylo sitting cross-legged on the ground, mending her pants, and honestly, the picture should not have her heart skipping a beat but it has, and there's warmth rising in her chest again.
Biting her lip to keep the grin off her face, Rey slips into her pants before pulling on the rest of her tunic, and then picks up her lightsaber and the crate. Her path back to the village leads her past the fallen tree still covered in golden dust and she is careful not to get too close but even from a few feet away she can see the smeared line as if someone has collected a handful of the dust, and there's no doubt in her mind who that someone is.
The knowledge goes straight to her stomach, and then lower still, and Rey swallows hard, blood rushing to her face, and she quickly averts her gaze, firmly closing the door to the thoughts and feelings rising from below.
When Rey steps out of the woods, the Elder is waiting for her, the look in the older woman's eyes kind and understanding.
"Are you alright, my child?"
"Yes," Rey replies, and strangely enough, she is. "Yes, I am."
The other woman tilts her head and gives Rey a thoughtful look. "Your young man is troubled."
'Troubled' doesn't even begin to describe what Kylo is, Rey thinks, ignoring how she's taking no offense at Kylo being called 'hers'.
"But he is slowly finding his way out of the darkness." The Elder steps forward and lays her hand on Rey's arm. "You and him, you are bound. Be a good teacher to him and he will come to you. And back to the Light."
She studies Rey's face a moment longer before nodding as if she's found what she's been looking for, and bids her goodbye then. Rey watches her go, the Elder's words, her prophecy, seeping through her skin and into her soul. She can sense the Force rippling with longing for it to come true, and as she prepares her shuttle for take-off, Rey hears the Force whispering in her mind.
There is a new hope...
- The End -