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my kind's your kind (i'll stay the same)

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Really, even if Rey thought about it, she couldn’t have come up with anything better than this.

(This, of course, being Finn stretched out on the bed underneath her, her small hands gripping his much larger ones and holding them in place above his head with barely any effort at all.)

This is relatively new to the both of them. The idea that they can touch another person -- trust another person -- and receive the same in return, without any consequences. Neither she nor Finn have ever had the opportunity to just explore; learn what another person likes. Hell, learn what they like, themselves. Their similar lack of experience -- both in this and also just people -- is almost freeing. The fact that sometimes neither of them really know what they want, and have no idea how to ask for it, but that they can somehow manage to work it all out together.

And, quite honestly, Rey has been taking full advantage.

(Not that Finn has been complaining.)

She presses his wrists deeper into the mattress, before removing her hands entirely. “Keep them there,” she murmurs, more into his neck than anything. His skin is warm, with just the lightest sheen of sweat, and Rey could really just live right there in the crook of his neck for the rest of her life. After a second, one long shaky indrawn breath, Finn nods, his eyes squeezed tightly shut in a way that used to worry Rey before she began to figure him out.

He likes it when she alternates the sensation -- moving from a gentle flutter of fingertips over the muscles of his chest, which twitch in response, and on to a firmer stroke. The bite of fingernails on sensitive flesh alternated with a gentle tongue to soothe it. She uses her teeth on one flat nipple, keeping one eye on his face to see if she’s pressed him too far.

She also trusts that he’ll let her know if she crosses any lines. Trusts that he trusts her with his body, as sure as she trusts him with her own.

And really, that’s the core of this entire thing. Trust.

Finn is panting by the time she makes it down to his hips, and he squirms underneath her. Still, his hands remain pressed flat into the mattress, exactly where Rey put them.

“You’re doing so good,” Rey says quietly, as she nuzzles into the soft skin at the place where his hip meets his thigh. “Hold still,” she murmurs, and she can feel the muscles in Finn’s thighs tightening with renewed effort.

And this is the struggle right here. Because Finn is amazing, holding himself just so, and all because she asked him to. Obedience freely given, and worth so much more to both of them because of it. And Rey really wants nothing more than to sink down on to Finn’s straining cock; she can see just how much he wants it, and kriff, she wants to give it to him. Reward him. Wants to ride him until they’re both gasping out their release, her back arched as she fucks him through her own orgasm. The urge is almost overwhelming, and Rey feels her cunt clench down on nothing. Nearly groans in frustration.

But also.

But also, she has learned, there is a certain pleasure that comes from seeing how far she can push them both. Find out which one of them is going to beg.

She wants to make Finn beg.

And so, she holds still, her breath ghosting over Finn’s cock as she looks up his body, waiting for him to meet her eyes.

When he finally does, she can see the way his pupils are blown; his eyes black in the dim lighting of their bedroom. And then, watching her watch him, he whimpers, and Rey can feel a rush of wetness between her own legs at the desperation in his voice. Knowing that she is the one who has made him this way.

“Here’s what I want to do,” she starts, because Finn is never able to deny her anything that he could possibly give her, even in this state. “I’m going to use my mouth on you, but I don’t want you to come until I say that you can.”

Finn groans in response, his eyes screwing closed once again. But he nods, and his hands stay where Rey put them, and that’s all the encouragement that she needs.

“I know that you can do it,” she murmurs, before dipping her head down so that she can lick her way up the sensitive underside of his cock. Her hands are on his thighs, and so she feels the way that the muscles in his legs tense at her words. Can feel how much he wants to move.

But he won’t do it. She’s sure of it.

But also, she knows Finn -- knows just how much he wants to succeed -- and so she sets up a challenge that she knows that he can win. Licks at his cock with slow and deliberate strokes. Sucks at the tip gently, with enough pressure to drive him within sight of the precipice, but nowhere near the edge. “Kriff, Rey,” he manages to get out, his voice low and wrecked, “I want - want, gods.”

And suddenly Rey is the one groaning, her body responding to Finn’s heady mix of obedience and desperation. Almost instinctively, she moves her hips so that she is straddling one of Finn’s legs, and grinds down against the lines of solid muscle. Rocks back and forth a few times, and she can feel just how wet she is, as she slides against Finn easily. It provides a measure of relief, but also makes Finn gasp suddenly, choked and oh so close.

And so she pauses, moves her mouth off of him. It seems cruel, but Finn sighs in actual relief as he backs away from the edge that he had been so close to, and Rey can’t help grinding down one more time -- and it’s not enough, not nearly enough -- before settling herself back down between his thighs.

Finn is doing so good. The cords of muscle and tendon in his arms are held taut, and his breath is ragged and filled with the occasional whine. But his eyes are closed and she can tell that he’s concentrating on her; waiting to see what she’ll do next.

“I know you want to come,” she says, when his breathing finally slows and his forehead relaxes. “But I think you want to make me come, first. Is that right?”

Finn’s eyes snap open to meet hers, and he nods, frantic. “I -- yes. Yes,” he says, eager.

“Okay,” she says, decisive, and Finn watches with rapt attention as she slides back up his body until she’s seated on his hips, his cock nudging against her slick folds.

Finn’s face suddenly twists and his eyes roll back in his head, and Rey holds her breath. Waits for it. But, after a long moment, he relaxes again, almost through sheer willpower, and his clenched fists relax back into the mattress.

And just…. fuck. It’s perfect -- he’s perfect -- the way that he wants so badly to please her. “You’re doing so good,” she repeats, and she sees his face relax even further at her words. “So good, and you’re going to make me come,” she affirms, quiet.

His face is a mask of concentration as she finally sinks down on to him. She can feel his cock twitching inside her, knows just how close he is, and she is nearly right there with him, as well. “So good,” she murmurs again, as she braces one hand on Finn’s chest and leans back so that she can ride him.

This position is one of her favorites, she’s learned. She likes being able to control how fast and how deep, and the way that Finn’s cock is pressed against her front wall always threatens to undo her so quickly that it makes her a little dizzy. Still, she can feel just how much Finn is holding back, and so she brings her other hand down to her clit so that she can circle it with two fingers, fast and hard. Below her, Finn moans wantonly, as her fingers brush the base of his cock as she rides him.

“Finn,” she gasps, suddenly, too fast and not fast enough all at once. “Open your eyes.” And she can see the concentration on his face, pleasure to the point of almost pain, but he obeys her anyway.

And that is what does it.

Her body tenses, and she feels the feels the white-hot peak of pleasure; hovers on the edge for a moment that simultaneously seem to go on forever, and is over in an instant. And then she is falling forward on to Finn’s chest and his hands come out to catch her hips, holding them still against him as her fingers work furiously over her clit, trying to draw out her orgasm as long as possible. She knows she is panting, and her sweat-soaked skin is pressed against Finn’s, and she suddenly comes back to herself when she realizes that his fingers are digging into her hips. Probably leaving tiny circular bruises that she will admire in the morning.

Finn’s face is still screwed up in concentration and his eyes are closed again, and his hands are not where she put them, but that isn’t the important part. None of it is important except for this.

“Finn,” she says, her voice hoarse and breathless, and she brings one hand up to stroke his cheek. “Oh gods, you’re perfect.” And then the words he’s been waiting for. “Come for me, Finn.”

He groans, desperate and grateful, and then he starts to move. Using his hands on her hips for leverage, and thrusting up into her, hard and fast. It only takes a few seconds -- she knows that he’s been on the edge forever now. Can’t believe that he’s held off so long. And when he comes, he cries out, harsh and inarticulate, and his hips continue to move against her for long seconds before he finally collapses down into the bed underneath her.

For a long time, he doesn’t move, but she’s only too happy to rest against his chest as she feels him softening inside her. She loves when he gets like this -- well-fucked and blissed-out. The evidence of just how much he lets himself relax when they’re together like this.

“Rey,” he finally starts to say, but she silences him with a soft kiss against his lips.

“Shhhh,” she soothes, “I’ll take care of it.”

And she does. Cleaning both of them up, and sorting out the blankets that have been pushed off the end of their bunk at some point. She pulls the blanket up over them, and then settles in against his side.

Finn sighs. A sound of pure contentment and gratitude. Also, exhaustion.

It’s okay, though. She knows. Knows how Finn is feeling and how he feels about her, without either of them having to say it with words.

They’re figuring it out, this thing.