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starwarskinkmeme2016-01-10 10:04 pm
swkm_mod) wrote in starwarskinkmeme2016-01-10 10:04 pm
Star Wars Kink Meme Round #1
Rules For Everyone:
- YKINMKATO (Your kink is not my kink, and that's okay.) No kinkshaming or wank/flames/y'know generally being a dick.
- All Star Wars films and related media are welcome. You can go as obscure as you want.
- RPF is allowed
All comments must be anon.Lbr, if it doesn't bother you guys it doesn't bother me.
- Use the subject for your prompt with the pair, general idea, any kinks, or specific requirements.
- You can post as many prompts as you like, as long as the prompts are different. They can be somewhat similar.
- You may second a post, but you may not piggyback and request different specifications from the original prompt. However, you may create a similar prompt inspired with your own specifications.
- Cross posting prompts is fine by me. If you've posted prompts at tfa-kink, and they've gotten lost in the mix, you can post them here!
- You are not allowed to create prompts for the purpose of mocking a previous prompt. I see you. Just don't.
- Warnings are courteous, but not necessary. Use DW Blocker if there is anything you don't want to see.
- Art and other media fills are welcome.
- Multiple fills are cool. Therefore, a prompt is considered filled, but still "open."
- You may post a link to your tumblr/ao3 account/ or any other website as long as it is accessible.
- You may link to a previously written fic in a comment, but it does not count as a fill.
- If you could post [FILL] in the subject of your fill, that would be awesome.
Sorry I forgot about this.
Discussion Post | Ask A Mod | Filled Prompts Master Post | Searchable Prompts @ Pinboard [Updated to page 16]| AO3 Collection
Spin-off Community: StarWarsFruitBowl
Announcement: I have long neglected my modly duties, because I have been both way busier than I thought I would be (the shock of young adulthood amirite?), and y'know just me being a mess ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ . If anyone is inclined to help me mod, or at least categorize prompts on pinboard, please message swkm-mod @ tumblr. If you don't have a tumblr, still message me but on anon, and we will find another way to communicate. Also, I have received a request for a prompt freeze. I'm thinking that might be a good idea, but I would like to get your opinion. Let me know what you think here.
Re: alpha!Finn/alpha!Poe/omega!Kylo hurt/comfort a/b/o dynamic - Fill 4/5?
(Anonymous) 2016-06-23 10:02 am (UTC)(link)It takes a while for the knot to go down. Not an insanely long time. Certainly not the hours that preteens and trashy romance novels go on about. The two of them are not tied for any period of time even remotely approaching an hour. It’s much more like ten minutes (and even then probably shy of it).
Still, those ten minutes are awkward and uncomfortable. Ren’s heat content enough that there is nothing more he can do (nothing more it can force him to do) to be bred and backs off from the incessant burning need it was pumping through his body. Kylo’s mind is as clear as it will likely be until the heat has finally broken and gone from for good. His mind is clear and his body feels more like his body again. That is, of course, if he ignores Dameron’s penis buried and tied inside him. Ignores Dameron’s body on top of him, supporting his weight on his arms as if he would crush Ren should he rest on him (as if Ren isn’t clearly the larger and stronger of the two of them).
The knot does go down and Dameron pulls out and for a brief second Ren swears he can feel his connection with the Force: bright and unhindered. He tries to reach for it, to see if he can use it to break the heat. However the moment he reaches for it the haze returns and it is back to being something on the edge of his consciousness. Something he knows to be there but cannot hope to get control of.
Dameron is still there as well. He has pulled out but not moved away. Is still hovering over Ren with a concerned look on his face.
Ren wants to kill him for it.
He wants to push him off and cower himself into the back corner of the bed. To try and chase that glimmer of connection to the Force while denying it all. Denying what has already happened as well as the knowledge that this relief is only temporary. That the desperate wanting, burning, need will rise up again and he will be a slave to his body and hormones once more.
“You’re okay,” Dameron says, reaching out to gently stroke Ren’s cheek. His touch seems to rekindle the passive burn in Kylo’s body. To break the reprieve and once more set it upon its path of increasing intensity that will end with him in agonising suffering lest he give his body what it demands again.
He doesn’t want to end up back there again. Wants to stay in this moment where the blur and want are merely haze in the back of his mind. There but ignorable. Something that with meditation he should be able to break through.
“You can leave now,” Ren says because he’d rather be alone with the agony then deal with the emotions that the comfort and care of the alphas kindles in him. He has hopefully given his body enough of what it demands that it will not kill him for denying it for so long. Hopes that the rest of the heat will be agony but not lethal. He is strong enough to deal with agony (should have been strong enough to choose death over submission to his enemies). “Both of you.”
“You don’t mean it,” Dameron says and Ren’s body seems to warm up in agreement. The haze increasing its strength over his mind and his blood pumping under his skin starting to burn up again. The leak of slick from him starts up again, having momentarily stopped at some point after the knot had tied Dameron to him.
“Don’t you dare claim to know what I mean.” The heat has not yet burned out his anger but he knows it will soon. Knows he only has precious few moments of himself left before it is dulled by the heat and the desperate need to be mated.
“It’s only fair. You dragged information I didn’t want to give you out of my mind, I can do the same with your body.” There is a brief, dangerous darkness to Dameron’s eyes and maybe that would be preferable. Maybe staying with the First Order and being found by Hux actually what he should have wanted. A degrading, brutal mating, that proved that his heats and status as an omega are weaknesses. Proves them something that must be purged to live up to his grandfather’s legacy. Maybe that is what he actually wants rather than the too kind hands of Dameron or the curious ones of the traitor.
The darkness in Dameron’s eyes fade and with it a panic in Ren’s gut that he did not even realise had risen until it was no longer there. Apparently the obnoxious, reassuring touch is better than the alternative. Apparently the weakness he has spent so long trying to stifle is still there and has found strength in his altered state of mind.
Dameron presses a kiss to Ren’s forehead and moves so he is no longer leaning over him. He leaves the bed, and goes over to where his pants lay on the floor, easily putting them on.
Kylo takes the chance to sit up. Bunches himself on top of the sheets to try and hide some of the evidence of his heat and sex. He refuses to grab the blanket and try to cover himself with it. Refuses to be that omega. The one in all the trashy romance holos who blush and cover themselves after mating with an alpha. The ones that go “don’t look at me” and hide until their alpha comes over and assures them that it’s natural and beautiful and nothing to be ashamed of and that they look very attractive all wet and filled with their alpha’s seed. Kylo Ren may (and does) hate his body for the degrading want it is forcing him to feel but it, at its core, is still his body and has served him well in most matters until now. He’d rather his body return to being what he is used to. Rather the slick that is coating his thighs and leaking from him dry up. Rather be able to blindly hate the two alphas in the room instead of having to constantly fight the urge to roll over and beg them both to fill him up with the dicks, and knots, and seed.
The traitor has gotten up as well. He has followed Dameron and pulled him into one of the corner of the room (the same one Ren cowed himself into and he honestly hates that corner). Ren watches them talk in hushed voices and wishes he still had his connection to the force. Wishes he could read what they were saying instead of having to listen to the beat of his blood pumping through his body. Listen to the squish of cum and slick leaking out of him at every movement of his body.
It seems to be building faster this time. Giving Ren less warning of what will come and just moving back to demanding more. It’s already reached the point of making him want to bury his fingers into himself to try and quell it. Reached the point where he has to fight against the urge to whimper and moan. Fight against his body’s want to do something, anything, to attract the alphas back to him from where they are in the corner of the room. To make them remember that he is there and ready for them. To make them fuck and knot him. To fill him up with the potential of allowing a child, their child, to grow deep inside him.
Ren shuts his eyes and tries to keep his breath steady. Focuses the entirely of his consciousness on not just leaning forward and burying his fingers into himself and moaning like a wonton slut.
He succeeds mostly. His breath may not be as even as he wants it, coming out in pants instead of even drags, but he hasn’t moved. Hasn’t moved either to present himself to better get the alphas’ attentions nor to attempt to obtain relief at his own fingers.
He doesn’t care that he probably looks strange – a statute of an omega with slick pouring out of him and uneven rise and fall of chest being the only signs of life. He doesn’t care what he looks like. Doesn’t care what the alphas or resistance or even his family think of him (maybe if he keeps telling himself that it’ll become true).
The bed shifts indicating that one of the two alphas has climbed on it. Ren doesn’t open his eyes to find out who, doesn’t care until a hand reaches out to gently cup his jaw and he has to bite back a moan at it. Bite back his bodies want to whimper or make some other sign of yes, please, more.
It’s Dameron’s hand on his jaw but the traitor on the bed with him.
The traitor looks uncomfortable with the situation. Ren hopes he regrets coming into the room in the first place. Hopes he hates what his body is doing in response to Ren’s heat as much as Kylo hates the heat itself. Not that it would be possible. An alpha’s mind and body is not stolen from them anywhere near as much as an omegas. Even now the traitor is still mostly himself. Ren however feels like a passenger in a body that will complete its own objectives regardless of his wishes.
Dameron’s hand gently twists Ren’s head so Kylo’s attention is on him instead of the traitor.
“Do you want us to get you through?”
The obvious, clear, rational answer is no. The answer Kylo should give is no. He should say no and make them leave and just suffer through the rest of the heat by himself. He should take it as a chance to strengthen himself. To learn how to master his body and mind even when both have rebelled and are pushing him with every bit of their power to take a certain course of action. He should say no and meditate and try to chase down the brief reconnection with the Force he felt so to try and defeat the heats power with that.
He doesn’t say no. He is weak and cannot stand the burning under his skin and the craving want. Cannot stand the need that feels as if it originates from every part of his being.
His nod earns him a chaste kiss from Dameron and the traitor moving from sitting on the bed just out of reach to being completely in his space.
It is easier to slip under the heat this time. Easier to accept that in this moment Kylo Ren is an omega and not the Leader of the Knights of Ren. The sickening feeling deep in the back of his mind is still there but he knows what to expect now so his fears are only limited to what will happen when the heat finally breaks for good not what will happen within it.
The traitor moves faster than Dameron does. Spends less time warning Ren about what he is doing next and more just doing it. He is still generous with his kisses and praise although sounds just as confused as to the pleasure and need of it all as Kylo feels.
He doesn’t seem to mind that another alpha has already claimed Ren. Greedily licking (and nipping, which Dameron didn’t do but Kylo cannot really find complaint about it in his heat-addled state) at Ren’s entrance as if he is trying to drink up every bit of cum and slick that is oozing out of him. His fingers push in deep and Kylo cannot help but arch at it. Cannot help but arch and moan as his body’s need for more grows.
“You look good like this,” Dameron says. The traitor hums in agreement, face no longer buried between Kylo’s legs as his fingers explore much deeper than his tongue was capable of.
“Shut up,” Ren manages to growl out but even he can hear how little heat it has despite being muffled in his ears from the sound of his own blood pumping. He doesn’t want to hear it because he doesn’t look good like this. He could never look good giving into his body’s base impulses like some non-sentient beast. He has crafted his image with precision and years of training. Crafted an image of power and greatness despite his body’s biological proclivities. He will not give it up just because he has lost the fight with his hormones and allowed their demands be fulfilled.
He is still Kylo Ren. Still one of the few beings in the galaxy trusted enough by the Supreme Leader to receive his teachings. He will still bring order back to the galaxy. Will find a way to escape and return to his allies once the week and his heat burns out.
He is still all of those things despite the fact his body has revolted and forced submission out of him. He is still Kylo Ren even now, when he whines as the traitor removes his fingers and shifts them so he can line himself up.
Kylo shuts his eyes and steadies his breath for the actual penetration. A second passes then another one and after a third of having the head of the traitor’s penis lined up without actually breaching he opens his eyes to see the traitor’s own watching him carefully.
One of the traitor’s hands come up to cup his jaw and stroke his cheek. Ren watches as he shuts his eyes to steady his breath. Watches a tongue dart out to moisten dry lips. “You… ah… you’re okay with this?”
“Yes.” Kylo reaches up and removes the hand from his face. “Get on with it. Unless you can’t do it. In which case get off and let Dameron get on.”
The traitor shakes his head and licks his lips, and there is defiantly lust darkening his eyes. “No. No. I can do it.”
“Then hurry up.” Ren half regrets the taunts when the traitor nods again, shifts both their hips just slightly, and pushes in with one strong thrust. It is hard to completely regret something when his whole body sings with pleasure at getting what it wants.
It takes a few thrusts for the traitor to find a rhythm. To find what angle to thrust at, where he wants his hands, exactly how much power he wants to put into each thrust. He does find it though and soon the last remnants of Kylo Ren are once against dragged under and consumed by his heat and things as far as his awareness is concerned go pleasurably blurry once again.
This time the knot is less of a surprise. He knows that it will be uncomfortable nearly to the point of pain. He knows it will stop before actually crossing over into pain. He knows awareness and thought will be cruelly given back to them both and they will be stuck in an awkward limbo of not being able to separate from each other but no longer affected by the craving need to be tied together.
When the knot starts to swell Ren shuts his eyes and tries to keep his breathing even despite the flash of panic that maybe this time it won’t stop until he is split in two.
It does. Just like with Dameron it stops before the precipice into pain. Stops and sends the hormone that allowed them both to do this in the first place out of their blood and minds. Leaves them both clear headed but impossibly tied to each other. Unable to escape the awkwardness that quickly fills the air in replacement of pheromones.
The difference in the alphas’ levels of experience shows in this moment more than it did anywhere else. Dameron had some idea as to how to deal with this. Had some idea of where to rest his weight and balance himself in order to minimise the discomfort for them both. The traitor does not. Instead he keeps shifting as he tries to find a comfortable position. Each movement making the knot inside Ren shift and press, each time threatening to make the feeling of it go over the edge from discomfort to pain.
After a minute of bearing it Kylo has had enough. He locks his thighs around the traitor’s hips and tells him in no uncertain terms to stop moving.
And the traitor does. He goes deathly still as if afraid that Ren would use the fact that they are tied together to kill him while he has no ability to escape (Ren does not want to think about what would happen if the traitor did try to escape while they were still tired together). Ren isn’t going to kill him. No matter how tempted he is.
Re: alpha!Finn/alpha!Poe/omega!Kylo hurt/comfort a/b/o dynamic - Fill 4/5?
(Anonymous) 2016-06-23 11:26 pm (UTC)(link)Re: alpha!Finn/alpha!Poe/omega!Kylo hurt/comfort a/b/o dynamic - Fill 5/5
(Anonymous) 2016-07-03 12:05 pm (UTC)(link)The rest of his heat is spent out like that. The painful suffocating drag of the need cutting him off from his own mind and forcing him to degrade himself in submission to get relief. Divided by moments of clarity, where he feels like Kylo Ren and not just some omega but is also all too aware that he will be dragged under again. A whole week of not being able to access the Force in the way he should, of being denied one of his birthrights in deliverance to another.
He hates how much he relies on the alphas to obtain the fleeting moments of clarity. Feels like a drug addict - one that craves clear thought. He supposes he probably is. The suppressants are a drug and this is just his body in withdrawal. Like so many addicts before him he has just replaced the drug with something that gives him the same feeling. Gives him the same result (even if it doesn’t last as long).
The withdrawal passes though and his body is his body again and his mind is his mind. And he can feel the Force bubbling up under his skin, ready to answer to his demands.
Clarity comes with realisations and the sickening. The desperate all-consuming need that filled his gut for the heat has retreated to just being a sickening feeling.
He can now see his actions with a clear head. The ones where at the time he gave into his heat-mind’s suggestions. The ones where he spread his legs and moaned and begged for more. The ones that had been justified as just biology or where his mind was so far gone that he can’t even remember them past the pleasure that surrounded them. Now he can see them as they really were. Can see how they, how he, must have looked to the alphas. Kylo Ren, the Leader of the Knights of Ren, entrusted with the teachings of the Supreme Leader, their enemy, moaning and submitting to them like a cheap whore. One of the greatest threats to the resistance spewing words that wouldn’t even make it into a cheap porn-holo because of how cliché and ridiculous they sound.
There is no saving his image in their mind. No reclaiming dominance over them. Even if he does manage to escape they will always know what he looked like desperate from need to be fucked, to be filled with their knots and seed. The whole resistance probably does, probably watched it happen on security monitors (no, his parents wouldn’t allow that). He will never be able to face them again without remembering.
They are both still there. Passed out in the room where total exhaustion once again forced them to rest. Their faces are tight though, it is not peaceful rest, not with the pheromones that are still filling the air (his heat may have broken now but they had been in the room for a whole week filling the rooms air with their shared hormones). He can see the evidence of his excitement left on their bodies. Can see the teeth and nail marks. The hickeys on their necks and long red lines on their shoulders and down their backs. He can see the evidence of his desperate craving submission on them and it just makes the sickness that rises in his stomach so much worse.
He barely makes it to the bathroom before his stomach officially revolts and spills its contents (mostly bile that burns its way up through his throat) into the toilet. He collapses next to it, unable to find the strength in his legs to keep holding him up. The heat has taken its toll on him, has drained his body of energy and turned his muscles useless.
They alphas won’t want him now. Their relationships will return to what they were before the week of hormone induced attraction. That is a good thing, he tells himself. It is good that they will think of him as merely a pleasurable fuck. Good that they do not demand any obligation from him that he cannot fulfil. He has to return to the First Order and they will stay with the resistance. They will be enemies again and they will brag to everyone how they got to fuck the great Kylo Ren.
He cannot seem to convince his stomach to stop trying to bring something up. There is nothing there for it to bring up but the acidic bile that lines it. Nothing and yet it keeps trying as if to spite his attempts to use his newly regained control over his body.
He can feel their seed leaking out of him. He hopes he has broken his body enough that it will not take.
He wants to clean his mouth out. Needs to clean his mouth out. Needs to make some part of his body not feel dirty, not feel used. He cannot get himself up and off the ground to make it to the sink. Cannot make his muscles work well enough to pull him up. Cannot seem to stop retching for long enough to actually move at all.
He can feel stirrings in the Force that tell him the two alphas have woken and he waits for the sound of the door opening and closing. Waits to be left alone to recreate himself back into Kylo Ren the Leader of the Knights of Ren. To be left alone until the Resistance has some use for him (and hopefully he will be able to clean himself up before then).
The sound doesn’t come. Instead they come into the bathroom.
They have come to mock him. There is no other reason for them to come into this room with him. They have come to memorise the sight of him, covered in their cum and so exhausted the he cannot even stand. Memorise it in order to tell the rest of the resistance exactly how pathetic Kylo Ren really is. He hopes they are at least quick. That they will merely stand there and take in the sight of his weakness, maybe get a shared laugh or two before leaving the room and him to his solitude.
He cannot handle it if they taunt him. He does not have the physical strength to attack them nor the mental to just endure. His body and mind have been exhausted and he is sure if he has to put up with taunts for more than minute he will cry. Which he cannot allow himself to do, but cannot seem to gather the strength to do anything to stop them should they try.
He can hear the traitor gasp when they enter the room and that is almost worse than taunts.
“Come on,” Dameron says and Kylo hopes that means they are leaving. That the sight of him is so displeasing that they do not want to witness it anymore.
They don’t leave.
He flinches at the hand that reaches out to touch him and it does back off if only for a moment.
“Ben, it’s just me,” Dameron says and there is a gentle touch on his shoulder before he feels his hair being pulled back and away from him face.
He shudders when a cold hand-towel is placed against his shoulders but it does make him feel more comfortable.
It takes a few minutes but the sickness in his stomach does go away and Ren stops retching up acidic bile. The alphas don’t leave the entire time. No, they gently rub his back and make sure that the towel on his shoulder stays cool (Dameron mostly responsible for the back rubs, the traitor for the towels). Their presence is a comfort which just makes it all worse. Reminds him of how pathetic he must look. He cannot handle their pity nor the weakness within him that causes it. He cannot stop them though. Cannot control what they think nor how he looks in that moment. He cannot hide his body: tired, sticky and sore.
“You feeling better now?” the traitor asks after five minutes of Ren not actively trying to bring up his stomach contents. “I mean, you’re not going to vomit again are you? I mean you can if you want but I feel like I really need a shower and if I feel like I need a shower I image you really must want one.”
Kylo does. He really does but he also isn’t so sure that he will be able to even stand. Getting to the shower and actually washing himself in any sort of satisfactory way seems an actually impossible task.
“We’ll help you,” Dameron says when Ren glares at the both of them, “but only if you want us to. If you want us to just leave we’ll do that as well.”
He does want them to just leave. Leave him to clean himself up and try and rebuild Kylo Ren from the crumbling remains. Wants to see what is left and try and start the process of reclaiming his power. He also knows that if they do leave he will probably be stuck where he is until he can regain the strength to at least make it to the shower. Even then he’d likely just sit under the spray hoping that it alone would clean him. Hoping that the week would just magically fall off and he would be Kylo Ren once more.
It wouldn’t be the most shameful thing they had seen him do. Not after everything he had done in his heat-fuelled desperation. What was one more story for them to gossip about if it meant him actually clean?
He hates how careful they are with him. Hates how their hands gently hold him, consciously avoiding the bruises on him. He is not sure if he’d prefer them to be clinical or cruel but knows he wants anything but how they are. They are his enemies and he is theirs. He should not be finding comfort in their touch no matter the surrounding circumstances.
The water that runs over his skin is blissfully warm. It satisfies all the cravings he had, after he woke from the heat, of being capable of washing the filth from his body. He forgets that the two alphas are with him for a handful of moments as he enjoys the feeling of knowing that he can wash, at least the evidence of, the previous week from his body.
It takes a fair amount of effort and energy for him to be able to stand and even then he has to support most of his weight by leaning against the wall of the shower. He has no ability to wash himself even if he did give up and rest on the floor. He has little choice but to rely on the alphas to wash the filth and sex from him. Dameron mostly takes charge of this task, the traitor apparently slightly apprehensive to touch past what is absolutely necessary. Ren cares little about that, care only about the fact that Dameron’s hands are thankfully clinical in his actions of bathing him.
He feels better after his body is clean. Feels more like Kylo Ren and less like an omega whore now that there is no longer seed actively leaking out of him onto thighs crusted with dry slick. It doesn’t change the fact that he still feels so weak and powerless. Something that he was supposed to never feel again after he took up the mantle of Kylo Ren, but he feels better.
He isn’t happy about what happened. Hates the desperation and pathetic weak behaviour it dragged out of him. Hates the fact he will likely never be able to fully return to portending that Kylo Ren is not an omega. He hates everything about the past week and events that lead up to it.
He cannot hate the alphas. He wants to, he really does. Wants to hate and make them pay for what his body did in response to them. Wants to blame it all on them. Kylo Ren is still Kylo Ren even though they forced the submission out of him. He knows it was his body that condemned them all. His body’s betrayal that condemned them all. In the circumstances they were nicer then he could have ever expected, nicer then he probably deserved (even just counting what he did to them personally). That doesn’t make it right but even he, in his deepest moments of denial, cannot place the blame on them completely.
Re: alpha!Finn/alpha!Poe/omega!Kylo hurt/comfort a/b/o dynamic - Fill 5/5 WITH FIXED FORMATING
(Anonymous) 2016-07-03 12:08 pm (UTC)(link)The rest of his heat is spent out like that. The painful suffocating drag of the need cutting him off from his own mind and forcing him to degrade himself in submission to get relief. Divided by moments of clarity, where he feels like Kylo Ren and not just some omega but is also all too aware that he will be dragged under again. A whole week of not being able to access the Force in the way he should, of being denied one of his birthrights in deliverance to another.
He hates how much he relies on the alphas to obtain the fleeting moments of clarity. Feels like a drug addict - one that craves clear thought. He supposes he probably is. The suppressants are a drug and this is just his body in withdrawal. Like so many addicts before him he has just replaced the drug with something that gives him the same feeling. Gives him the same result (even if it doesn’t last as long).
The withdrawal passes though and his body is his body again and his mind is his mind. And he can feel the Force bubbling up under his skin, ready to answer to his demands.
Clarity comes with realisations and the sickening. The desperate all-consuming need that filled his gut for the heat has retreated to just being a sickening feeling.
He can now see his actions with a clear head. The ones where at the time he gave into his heat-mind’s suggestions. The ones where he spread his legs and moaned and begged for more. The ones that had been justified as just biology or where his mind was so far gone that he can’t even remember them past the pleasure that surrounded them. Now he can see them as they really were. Can see how they, how he, must have looked to the alphas. Kylo Ren, the Leader of the Knights of Ren, entrusted with the teachings of the Supreme Leader, their enemy, moaning and submitting to them like a cheap whore. One of the greatest threats to the resistance spewing words that wouldn’t even make it into a cheap porn-holo because of how cliché and ridiculous they sound.
There is no saving his image in their mind. No reclaiming dominance over them. Even if he does manage to escape they will always know what he looked like desperate from need to be fucked, to be filled with their knots and seed. The whole resistance probably does, probably watched it happen on security monitors (no, his parents wouldn’t allow that). He will never be able to face them again without remembering.
They are both still there. Passed out in the room where total exhaustion once again forced them to rest. Their faces are tight though, it is not peaceful rest, not with the pheromones that are still filling the air (his heat may have broken now but they had been in the room for a whole week filling the rooms air with their shared hormones). He can see the evidence of his excitement left on their bodies. Can see the teeth and nail marks. The hickeys on their necks and long red lines on their shoulders and down their backs. He can see the evidence of his desperate craving submission on them and it just makes the sickness that rises in his stomach so much worse.
He barely makes it to the bathroom before his stomach officially revolts and spills its contents (mostly bile that burns its way up through his throat) into the toilet. He collapses next to it, unable to find the strength in his legs to keep holding him up. The heat has taken its toll on him, has drained his body of energy and turned his muscles useless.
They alphas won’t want him now. Their relationships will return to what they were before the week of hormone induced attraction. That is a good thing, he tells himself. It is good that they will think of him as merely a pleasurable fuck. Good that they do not demand any obligation from him that he cannot fulfil. He has to return to the First Order and they will stay with the resistance. They will be enemies again and they will brag to everyone how they got to fuck the great Kylo Ren.
He cannot seem to convince his stomach to stop trying to bring something up. There is nothing there for it to bring up but the acidic bile that lines it. Nothing and yet it keeps trying as if to spite his attempts to use his newly regained control over his body.
He can feel their seed leaking out of him. He hopes he has broken his body enough that it will not take.
He wants to clean his mouth out. Needs to clean his mouth out. Needs to make some part of his body not feel dirty, not feel used. He cannot get himself up and off the ground to make it to the sink. Cannot make his muscles work well enough to pull him up. Cannot seem to stop retching for long enough to actually move at all.
He can feel stirrings in the Force that tell him the two alphas have woken and he waits for the sound of the door opening and closing. Waits to be left alone to recreate himself back into Kylo Ren the Leader of the Knights of Ren. To be left alone until the Resistance has some use for him (and hopefully he will be able to clean himself up before then).
The sound doesn’t come. Instead they come into the bathroom.
They have come to mock him. There is no other reason for them to come into this room with him. They have come to memorise the sight of him, covered in their cum and so exhausted the he cannot even stand. Memorise it in order to tell the rest of the resistance exactly how pathetic Kylo Ren really is. He hopes they are at least quick. That they will merely stand there and take in the sight of his weakness, maybe get a shared laugh or two before leaving the room and him to his solitude.
He cannot handle it if they taunt him. He does not have the physical strength to attack them nor the mental to just endure. His body and mind have been exhausted and he is sure if he has to put up with taunts for more than minute he will cry. Which he cannot allow himself to do, but cannot seem to gather the strength to do anything to stop them should they try.
He can hear the traitor gasp when they enter the room and that is almost worse than taunts.
“Come on,” Dameron says and Kylo hopes that means they are leaving. That the sight of him is so displeasing that they do not want to witness it anymore.
They don’t leave.
He flinches at the hand that reaches out to touch him and it does back off if only for a moment.
“Ben, it’s just me,” Dameron says and there is a gentle touch on his shoulder before he feels his hair being pulled back and away from him face.
He shudders when a cold hand-towel is placed against his shoulders but it does make him feel more comfortable.
It takes a few minutes but the sickness in his stomach does go away and Ren stops retching up acidic bile. The alphas don’t leave the entire time. No, they gently rub his back and make sure that the towel on his shoulder stays cool (Dameron mostly responsible for the back rubs, the traitor for the towels). Their presence is a comfort which just makes it all worse. Reminds him of how pathetic he must look. He cannot handle their pity nor the weakness within him that causes it. He cannot stop them though. Cannot control what they think nor how he looks in that moment. He cannot hide his body: tired, sticky and sore.
“You feeling better now?” the traitor asks after five minutes of Ren not actively trying to bring up his stomach contents. “I mean, you’re not going to vomit again are you? I mean you can if you want but I feel like I really need a shower and if I feel like I need a shower I image you really must want one.”
Kylo does. He really does but he also isn’t so sure that he will be able to even stand. Getting to the shower and actually washing himself in any sort of satisfactory way seems an actually impossible task.
“We’ll help you,” Dameron says when Ren glares at the both of them, “but only if you want us to. If you want us to just leave we’ll do that as well.”
He does want them to just leave. Leave him to clean himself up and try and rebuild Kylo Ren from the crumbling remains. Wants to see what is left and try and start the process of reclaiming his power. He also knows that if they do leave he will probably be stuck where he is until he can regain the strength to at least make it to the shower. Even then he’d likely just sit under the spray hoping that it alone would clean him. Hoping that the week would just magically fall off and he would be Kylo Ren once more.
It wouldn’t be the most shameful thing they had seen him do. Not after everything he had done in his heat-fuelled desperation. What was one more story for them to gossip about if it meant him actually clean?
He hates how careful they are with him. Hates how their hands gently hold him, consciously avoiding the bruises on him. He is not sure if he’d prefer them to be clinical or cruel but knows he wants anything but how they are. They are his enemies and he is theirs. He should not be finding comfort in their touch no matter the surrounding circumstances.
The water that runs over his skin is blissfully warm. It satisfies all the cravings he had, after he woke from the heat, of being capable of washing the filth from his body. He forgets that the two alphas are with him for a handful of moments as he enjoys the feeling of knowing that he can wash, at least the evidence of, the previous week from his body.
It takes a fair amount of effort and energy for him to be able to stand and even then he has to support most of his weight by leaning against the wall of the shower. He has no ability to wash himself even if he did give up and rest on the floor. He has little choice but to rely on the alphas to wash the filth and sex from him. Dameron mostly takes charge of this task, the traitor apparently slightly apprehensive to touch past what is absolutely necessary. Ren cares little about that, care only about the fact that Dameron’s hands are thankfully clinical in his actions of bathing him.
He feels better after his body is clean. Feels more like Kylo Ren and less like an omega whore now that there is no longer seed actively leaking out of him onto thighs crusted with dry slick. It doesn’t change the fact that he still feels so weak and powerless. Something that he was supposed to never feel again after he took up the mantle of Kylo Ren, but he feels better.
He isn’t happy about what happened. Hates the desperation and pathetic weak behaviour it dragged out of him. Hates the fact he will likely never be able to fully return to portending that Kylo Ren is not an omega. He hates everything about the past week and events that lead up to it.
He cannot hate the alphas. He wants to, he really does. Wants to hate and make them pay for what his body did in response to them. Wants to blame it all on them. Kylo Ren is still Kylo Ren even though they forced the submission out of him. He knows it was his body that condemned them all. His body’s betrayal that condemned them all. In the circumstances they were nicer then he could have ever expected, nicer then he probably deserved (even just counting what he did to them personally). That doesn’t make it right but even he, in his deepest moments of denial, cannot place the blame on them completely.
Re: alpha!Finn/alpha!Poe/omega!Kylo hurt/comfort a/b/o dynamic - Fill 5/5 WITH FIXED FORMATING
(Anonymous) 2016-07-07 02:09 pm (UTC)(link)Re: alpha!Finn/alpha!Poe/omega!Kylo hurt/comfort a/b/o dynamic - Fill 5/5 WITH FIXED FORMATING
(Anonymous) 2016-07-10 07:21 am (UTC)(link)I'm glad you like my Ren, he's probably the character I'm happiest with my writing of. Everyone else I feel I get slightly wrong but with Ren I can normally get him somewhere in the realm of what I consider is loyal to his character.
Again, thank you so much for your wonderful compliments. It was a great prompt and I enjoyed writing it (trapfalls aside). I'm glad you enjoyed it so much.
Also - don't forget there's the bonus 'alternative way it would have gone' and epilogue that are still coming... soonish (if you follow my tumblr you'll have seen I've probably made a very bad decision when it comes to amount of fics I'll need to write over the coming months)
Re: alpha!Finn/alpha!Poe/omega!Kylo hurt/comfort a/b/o dynamic - Fill 5/5 WITH FIXED FORMATING
(Anonymous) 2016-08-14 07:41 pm (UTC)(link)Re: alpha!Finn/alpha!Poe/omega!Kylo hurt/comfort a/b/o dynamic - BONUS ALTERNATIVE VERSION
(Anonymous) 2016-08-21 11:54 am (UTC)(link)Dameron’s hands are on him. His hands and lips are mapping out paths on Ren’s skin. Exploring the new territory and claiming it as his own with every press of finger and touch of lip.
And Kylo cannot do this. He just cannot. He doesn’t care that not doing so will literally kill him. Does not care if it makes him weak or a coward. Doesn’t care if it means that he has failed the Supreme Leader’s teaching and that he will never obtain his true strength. He does not care because he cannot do this.
He does care. Of course he does. He cares so much and that is making this all so worse. He doesn’t want to die. He doesn’t want to be weak or a coward. He doesn’t want any of that but he also doesn’t want this. Also cannot stand the touches on his body. The feeling of Poe discovering the mountains of his hips bones or the ponds that is the places on his thighs where his river of slick has decided to gather.
He wants to push him off. Wants to scream at him to get off. Wants to fight and run and get away from this all and go back to when he was Kylo Ren, so hopped up on suppressants that many believed him an alpha.
He can’t though. Cannot seem to get his vocal chords within command. Cannot seem to get his body to respond to the demands that it move. He is trapped within the frozen muscles under his skin and his lungs burn from his failure to even drag oxygen in to fuel the fires that keep him alive.
He is frozen and Dameron’s touch feels like fire and there is nothing he can do to stop him. Not when his arms will not raise at his request. Not when the pheromones are suffocating them all and he is going to die before this is through. He just knows it. His body will burn either from Dameron’s touch or its own flames grown all consuming. And he can feel those flames growing. Feel them now his breathing is back. Too fast to actually allow oxygen into his lungs but fast enough to keep pouring more onto the fires of his heat and the pyre that will be his end.
“Ben?”
The flames must have consumed his hearing and sight because he cannot be sure if it is Dameron’s voice behind those words. Cannot be sure if it is even him still touching him or if he has been traded for the traitor. Or maybe traded for someone else. Why not? Get all the resistance members in and let them fuck the villainous Kylo Ren while he’s wet and ready for them. Make him beg for them all.
His skin feels ice cold though. The fire burning him only from within. He cannot feel the burning touch of another on his skin so maybe there is none. Or maybe the internal flames have reached such strength that even if someone was touching him it would not compare.
“Ben you need to breathe.”
Breathing only seems to fuel his heat. Only makes it burn stronger. Makes his suffering worse. Maybe if he stops breathing it will be over sooner. If he stops breathing the flames will not get the oxygen they require and will extinguish. He doesn’t care if they take him with them as long as this is over.
“Finn, go get the General. Come on Ben, at least look at me.”
How can he look at him if he cannot see? His world is plunged into darkness and the deafening beat of his heart as it pumps the molten heat through his body.
“Come on. Open your eyes. That’s all I’m asking.”
He had not shut them but his eyes are shut. He realises it when he opens them and can see Dameron’s concerned face. Dameron kneeling in front of the ball he has apparently also curled himself into without noticing. At the sight of the alpha his heat demands submission. Demands he try and look appealing and get back on the track he deviated from in his distress. He’s a coward, a weak foolish coward. He swears these words are in the Supreme Leader’s voice. This is just another failure on a very long list. The final piece of a puzzle of screw ups that reveal the image of his true nature. If he was stronger he could control his body. If he was stronger he could quash the heat and continue being Kylo Ren instead of a fertile omega in the hands of the resistance. If he was stronger he could grit his teeth and bear the mating no matter how unpleasant it was. Instead he is weak and cannot even endure when his enemies are spoiling him with kindness.
“No. Don’t do that. You gotta’ stop thinking. Just focus on your breathing.”
That should be an easy task for him. More than an easy task. If he really learned the lessons given to him by the Supreme Leader he would be able to maintain his breathing no matter what happened to him. If he had learned the lessons given to him he would not be this weak.
“General I don’t know what happened but he started panicking and I’m trying to calm him but-“
The General. His mother. His mother knows. She knows how weak her son is. Knows she gave birth to a pathetic omega who can’t even handle his heats yet believes he is deserving of claiming the galaxy. It is not a monster that she raised but a scared pathetic weak child.
“Ben they’re going to get something to break your heat but you still gotta’ breath for me. If you could do it while wearing that stupid mask you can do it now. Come on.”
His mask. He is undeserving of it. Undeserving of the mantle of Kylo Ren. He cannot go back to his old name. He is so weak he does not even deserve that one. He may hate that generation of his family but they did succeed at toppling an Empire. He cannot withstand a single heat without it consuming him and burning him from the inside out. He is undeserving of his family’s legacy. He is undeserving of his grandfather’s legacy.
“Poe how is he doing?”
“Honestly? About the same. I can’t get him out of his head and focusing on anything let alone his breathing.”
“That’s okay. That you for trying.”
“It’s nothing.”
“Let me have a go.”
He can see his mother. See her right there where she can see him and his weakness and shame. He can see the syringe in her hand. The one she is turning around and around her fingers. He wonders if that is what will break his heat. He wonders what new torture will replace it. He wonders how else he will fail the Supreme Leader.
“Ben this will break your heat but I need you to at least start breathing for me.”
Even with the incentive on the table he cannot regain control of his body. He is so weak he cannot even command his body when the chance of being relieved of the burning agony is right in front of him.
“Ben.”
His mother’s voice is so gentle as her hand reaches out to cup his face. Thumb coming to wipe away the tears and sweat that stain his cheeks. He must look a mess. She must be pitying him and his weakness.
“Just breathe for me.”
Her hand moves to grab his and place it on her chest. He can feel her chest move with each breath and slowly, gradually he is able to mimic it with his own.
“Good. There you go. Now this will probably hurt.”
The syringe is plunged into his thigh and the contents pushed into his body. It is an agony of a new kind. Frigid ice forcing its way through the molten lava of his blood. It is colder than anything he has ever endured before and the same heartbeat that pumped the fire through him is forcing it to move through his body. Is moving the agony from one spot to everywhere.
His heat is over though. He can feel it halting at an instantaneous stop. It is wrong. His body knows that. This is not the way it is meant to be. And there is no easy solution. No easy way to right itself so he suffers for it. Suffers as it tries to bring itself back to normal within seconds.
His heartbeat is deafening again and he wants to vomit up the last months’ worth of food as well as the bile and lining of his stomach. And the world is spinning and his mother is saying something but he cannot hear it. Cannot focus on anything but the agony.
Eventually the pain becomes too much and everything goes black.