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WISH LIST

★ my dark au kink:
+ being captured by the first order and subjected to reconditioning
+ trying to turn him back with the power of gay love and friendship (and possibly failing)
+ he was always a first order tie fighter pilot instead of winter soldiered
+ poe and finn first order murder squad (dynamics if they were both stormtroopers? running away together?)
+ ^ part b: the fam that gets captured and reconditioned together… stays…together…
+ Interesting Dynamics with kylo and hux from dark aus

★ finn stuff
+ what will they do after the war? romantic vacations? homesteading? sending finn's spit to space 23andme?
+ infinite escape reimagining/aus, stormpilot escape room reigning champions

★ rey stuff
+ relationship of convenience because they're both In Denial
+ sith princess rey aus where he tries to save her and/or she turns him

★ kylo stuff
+ infinite interrogating/torture room reimagining/aus
+ ^ part b: stockholm syndrome?
+ We Need to Talk about Leia

★ general
+ honestly anything regarding leia (esp processing grief post-tros)
+ talking about his sketchy spice runner past (possibly playing things taking place during that time in his life?)
+ ^ same for things taking place during academy/new republic tbh
+ i love aus. modern aus, vampire aus, a/b/o aus, let's au the entire world
+ i prefer m/m for poe but am good with most ships

kinks if ya nasty

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ Her lips curl, not quite a coy grin but pleasant amusement nonetheless. While she wasn't going to drag it out, make him work to discover the intent, she also wasn't going to spell it all out immediately. Instead of replying she shifts slightly to set her datapad down on the endtable next to her and then stands. ]

As fun as everything to now has been — [ Well, fun for her maybe. ] — I think it's time to get more serious.

[ When she moves it's not to approach him, perhaps surprisingly, but instead to walk to her nearby desk where a box currently sits, rather unremarkable and plain on its own. ]

I don't know if you recall that little incident with the Hutts a few weeks ago? It actually turned out rather well, after a show of force. Disgusting creatures, and annoyingly somewhat resistant to the Force, but not adverse to some negotiating. Because for all that is distasteful about them, there are a few things they're very knowledgeable on. A few unique resources they've come by that would be difficult to find or have made elsewhere.

[ By now she's rested a hand on the box, slightly smiling to herself as she looks at it. After a moment she lifts the lid and reaches in with both hands for the contents, carefully taking out what very clearly is some manner of metallic slave collar. The metal has a matte finish, not shining terribly in the light but polished and new just the same. ]

[ “a few weeks ago” is what actually makes him take pause first. he doesn't like having no grasp of the passage of time between being unconscious and being awake for fresh rounds of torture. even in those occasional gaps of time left on his own, it's hard to track the time. especially with very little in the way of outside stimulation. solitary confinement in a bedroom with a shower is still solitary confinement. he tries to exercise — push-ups, sit-ups, etc — to pass the time, but it feels meaningless. (sometimes he touches himself and tries to think of finn, or any previous sexual encounters he’s had, to try and rinse the unwanted encounters with brianna from his mind.)

he’s quiet and watchful while she talks, eyeing the way she moves across the room with curiosity, confusion, and— as always— dread.

no. he’s not stupid. he knows what it is (maybe not the exact specifications, but knows what a slave collar is) and that it’s no doubt meant for him. but he’s still going to … live in denial about it. ]

I’m not seeing the part that’s not distasteful.

You mean other than the part where I didn't sell you to them?

[ She wouldn't; not to the Hutts under any circumstance, and not in general at this stage, but he doesn't need to know that. Threats weren't near as effective if it seemed like there was no chance of a follow-through.

Admiring the craftsmanship of the collar a moment more, she finally turns around with it in her hands. She knows he's smart enough to figure out where this is going but she's not entirely certain of how he'll react. Which is fine with her. A bit of exploration is on the menu for the evening rather than the outright torture of the last time she had him alone. ]

Honestly, you should be flattered. Market price for a piece like this is almost as much as one of the bounties still on your head.

[ Partly due to just how custom she made sure it would be. Form and function were equally important; if she wanted a simple ring of metal she could manage that herself, or simply wrap her belt around his throat when she felt the urge. But she has plans to make use of his professional skills, at least a time or two, and she wants to make sure it's clear to any who see Poe just who he belongs to. That, and since she's not interested in breaking his mind (yet, in any case) she has to keep in mind there's only so much solitary confinement any person can take. Something that a slave collar with a few built-in perks can alleviate the need for.

On the back of the collar where it locks the First Order insignia has been embossed, both to serve as a brand of sorts and to cover the slight seam in the metal when it's closed. On the front, in contrast, a polished kyber crystal nearly the width of the collar has been set, the crystal still its natural color. A crystal she herself picked out from the mines, needing to find one that was just right even though it wouldn't be going in a lightsaber.

She approaches him with a relatively neutral expression, watching him carefully, and a little curiously. ]

[ the tightening of his jaw indicates that whether or not she actually would sell him to the hutts (he's pretty sure she wouldn't, honestly. not by the amount of "fun" she seems to always be having), he doesn't really appreciate the "kindness."

he steps back instinctively, wanting to maintain as much distance between them as possible. even with practically no hope for escape, his muscles are still always tensed and ready to break out into a run at the slightest opportunity. every moment has the potential for him to grab her lightsaber and almost ignite it at himself again. ]

Can't say I'm much flattered by going from prisoner to slave. [ symbolically, anyway. from the looks of things. ] Seems like a downgrade to me.

[ he didn't like the idea of belonging to her in some tangible official form. as just a prisoner, he had the hope of maybe somehow, someday, escaping and being free. it seemed more and more distant and impossible, but he still used that tiny little ember of hope to keep him warm at night. now... something about it felt harder. further from his grasp. ]

I hope you got a return policy on that.

[ Rather than halt him with the Force she lets him back up, trying to stay away from her. She doesn't even change her pace. Just steadily walks toward him, only a twitch of a predator's smirk on her lips when he eventually runs out of space behind him. Sometimes she wonders if he drags out the inevitable on purpose or if in such instances he really thinks there's a chance of the outcome changing.

It's only when he's backed himself in a corner — metaphorically or literally — that she lifts a hand to still him at last, although she only uses just enough power to do that. ]

A downgrade? Why, it's more the opposite. I would think you'd like more freedom of motion than being kept in a glorified cage all the time.

[ Not that he's going to be able to wander wherever he wants, but that'll be explained soon enough.

Once in his space she reaches out to brush her fingers along his throat, the side of his neck, almost a caress really, before she moves to place the collar around his neck. It's essentially a perfect fit, loose enough to slip a finger or two between skin and metal if necessary. The inside layer is even smoother than the outside though a different type of metal, no sharp edges to catch on or rough spots to rub and cause discomfort. There's some weight to it, like there's more to it than can be seen, but no loose parts to rattle or otherwise make noise when the collar moves.

As the lock clicks into place she can't help but smile to herself, brushing her thumb along the metal to confirm the pieces fit flush together. There's no switch or clasp that can be felt, which was a very purposeful request on her part, not simply because she doesn't trust anyone else but because even though she's been slowly breaking down Poe's resistance and will to escape she knows better than to underestimate him on that count.

She takes a half step back and makes a slight gesture with her hand to release him from the invisible hold, having only wanted to restrain him so she could put the collar on him without incident. ]

I took the liberty of having you measured while you were in the medbay. Wouldn't want anything too tight around that pretty neck of yours. Other than my hands, of course.

Right, I get to go wherever I want now that I'm officially your property.

[ it really is a monkey paw's wish. sure, it would be nice, but the shame is enough to twist his stomach, make him want to stay in his room after all. he still remembers the feeling when she had him kneel next to her in the boardroom. it's not the worst feeling he's endured since being taken captive, but not one he's eager to revisit.

he already knew he'd ran out of space before he ends up next to the wall, which is why her using the force to stop him makes anger prickle under his skin. he already knew he was out of space. when she starts adjusting the collar around his neck, however, he gets a better idea of why.

as soon as the collar clicks into place, he hates it. it's smooth and not heavy enough to be burdensome, which somehow makes him hate it even more. the second she's no longer touching him, his hand are at his neck, feeling at the collar and also looking for that lock that he just felt, like he could immediately pull it off and show her a thing or two. ]

Keep your hands to yourself, thanks.

[ it's sarcastic. he's still looking. fact: his life has become one long series of defiant exercises of futility. ]

[ She hums a sound that might be amusement and watches him struggle with the collar for a few moments before turning away. ]

Well, not quite wherever you want. Some areas are off-limits. All of the hangar bays, naturally, unless you're accompanying me. The same with the bridge.

[ Talking as she returns to the desk, she takes one last thing out of the box: a small remote that fits in the palm of her hand. ]

Your new jewelry is fitted with a tracking device, both so you can always be found and so you can't go anywhere you aren't supposed to. But if you try to, say, go steal a ship...

[ As she turns to look at him she presses a button on the remote, triggering the collar to deliver a low-level shock, watching him attentively as she does so. ]

[ his muscles all contract and stop working as he collapses to the floor. he's able to sit up after a few seconds, it hurt, but was nothing compared to actually being tased. he starts on an unsteady rise back to his feet. everything is sore. ]

You — [ it takes an additional second for him to regroup mentally enough to say a whole sentence. ] you gave me a shock collar? Like I'm a kriffing animal.

[ he hasn't even fully processed the tracking device part. the pain is distracting. ]

[ As she observes him she mentally notes the reaction, and apparent recovery time, since she hadn't gotten a chance to see a demonstration of the power levels previously. It's satisfactory to her; the first level was intended as a warning after all, like a slap on the hand and then allowing said hand to be drawn back. Wouldn't be much of a warning if it was totally debilitating right off the bat. ]

Everyone's an animal if you break them down far enough. [ On that she can speak from experience, even if it felt a lifetime ago. ] The functionality can be disabled once it proves unnecessary. Stay out of restricted areas, and don't try to tamper with the collar, and you'll never feel it.

Although you should know that's only the base level. There are five graduations in power, each more severe than the former. But considering you've shown you're able to correct your behavior when necessary, I'm sure you'll never experience those higher levels.

[ It's difficult to say whether her tone is mildly taunting or simply stating how she's watched him adapt over the weeks to his capture.

She sets the remote down and lightly crosses her arms, leaning a hip against the desk as she eyes him. Partly she's curious if he might try to strike out at her or otherwise act out. ]

[ telling him that everything will be fine so long as he stays out of restricted areas and doesn't tamper with the collar doesn't sit right with him. it feels like something too simple to be true. especially when there are multiple levels of shock, apparently.

what he wants to do is keep tampering with it, but he knows better than to do it in front of kylo. doing it as soon as she put it on was an impulsive mistake. ]

So... that's it? You'll let me walk around wherever, as long as it not the hangar or the bridge?

There's a few other areas I don't feel you need access to, but — [ She shrugs a shoulder. ] I think you can be allowed to roam a bit. To get some exercise and human interaction. [ Even if it's not much more than passing people in corridors and the like. No one's likely to suddenly just start chatting up what's essentially their leader's prized pet. ]

And if you prove that you can't handle that, then you'll just have to go back to confinement for a while. In a new room. I've decided to move you closer for... easier access.

[ Her lips twitch with self amusement, gaze skimming over him. Speaking of... ]

Take off your clothes. You're not going to need them.

[ he can't stop the scowl that crosses his face as she speaks. at everything she says, in general. her wording still makes him feel more like an animal than a person. (and he still doesn't like the idea of encountering anyone else, even if it would beat just staring at the ceiling waiting for the next meal. he already knows how most of the first order officers see him at this point. having it confirmed for them makes his stomach twist.)

"new room" doesn't make him feel any better, either. that said, he doesn't actually argue while starting to take off his clothes. he knows it's part of his wall being whittled down, but fighting has been exhausting. ]

What are you making me do now?

[ Though she feels the urge Kylo doesn't smirk in satisfaction when he doesn't so much as protest. Yes, yes it definitely feels like it's the right time for a few changes. She'll be curious to see how he takes to his new privileges. ]

Perhaps I want to see just how well you healed up.

[ Which she does, but it's unlikely to be the only reason for her demand.

Her eyes trail over him more slowly as she approaches, not lingering anywhere in particular. She comes close enough to touch but doesn't, at least not right away. Instead she walks around him, gaze seeking out where she recalls injuring him. It's then that a hand ghosts along his spine and she hums a soft sound that might be approval; others might have expected her to want to see scars or lingering effects of what she recently did to him, but that hadn't been the purpose of the torture. ]

Maybe I just want to admire what's mine. [ The words come as her hand slides over his ass and gives a light squeeze. ]

[ his jaw clenches again. he hasn't seen for himself what traces of her damage may or may not remain (faint scars, nothing that won't heal with more time). all he knows is that it doesn't hurt anymore, and that's enough for him at this point. the scars don't matter. they'll disappear and then be written over with fresh ones, over and over. at least, that's how it feels.

it was hard to not flinch from her touch. it was unclear, even to himself, if that was because he was expecting more pain or if it was because of who she was in the first place. a mix of both, most likely.

he'd tried to keep it to that. the flinching escaped him, but he'd hoped he could keep himself otherwise blank-faced while she assessed him like a piece of meat. unfortunately, his composure crumbles when she grabs at his ass. the action mixed with the words leave him with a shocked and sour expression. ]

I'm not -- [ the "i'm not yours" argument felt more difficult to back up while wearing an actual slave collar. the evidence to the contrary was crumpling up in front of him. ] I'm not yours. [ he says it anyway. ] Don't do that.

[ A brow arches at his protest — though she does note he doesn't try to brush off her hand or move away. The futile protest only makes her linger behind him, stepping in closer to Poe and lightly resting both hands on his hips. ]

Oh, but you are. [ she leans down to all but purr near his ear, her hands doing nothing but simply resting on his skin, almost as if daring him to push them away. ] You, Poe Dameron, former pride of the Resistance, belong to me now. And I will do whatever I desire with and to you.

Try and lie to yourself all you want but deep down you know it's true.

[ Kylo steps away then, dropping her hands and trailing her eyes down his backside like a caress. Perhaps he wasn't interested at the moment, but this was definitely a little bit of foreplay for her. Surely he would prefer this to her bloodying him again?

Heading into the adjoining bedroom (large, luxurious as one might expect for someone in her position, done up in blacks and charcoal and accents of red similar to how she redecorated the throne room), the lights coming on automatically at sensing someone in the room, she doesn't bother to glance Poe's way as she starts to disrobe. There's nowhere for him to go; this is her domain, if she were concerned about him being momentarily out of sight she would have had him bound. As she steps out of her boots so she can remove her pants she calls over her shoulder, ] Don't be shy now. I'll move you if I have to but I don't think you'd enjoy that.

[ it's true. he knows it's true and he hates it. no matter how he tries to argue and complain, it doesn't make it any less true. it is just that — ineffectual complaining.

maybe... maybe? maybe he should try to play the game. he could still "belong" to her and try to escape. maybe it would be easier. she was already letting him out of confinement.

and that's why... he says nothing. his face stays as it was, still soured, but no words come out. the closest thing to acceptance he'd give.

also: he still doesn't push her away. he forgot he could do that. he literally forgot that was a thing he could do until she's pressed against him, grabbing his hips. and by then, it's too late to do anything. she stepped away. beat him to the punch.

he reluctantly follows after her, trying to ignore the prickle of the air against his skin. however, he doesn't move any closer to approach her. he's standing in the bedroom, he did his part. and, anyway, ]

Where do you want me?

[ As she straightens, folding her pants before tossing them in a basket with the rest of her clothes, she can't help a small pleased smile at seeing him near. For a brief moment she wants to gloat — how she's clearly broken him down, how easily he obeys — but she catches herself and holds such urges back. She doesn't want to spoil this. Whether it's him relenting for the time being or actually choosing to be obedient, she'll take it. Savor it. And tuck it away in her mind for the next time she needs to wear him down or humiliate him by bringing up things he's done willingly. ]

On all fours begging me to fuck you. [ she casually replies, one hand pushing her hair behind her shoulder as she looks at him, the side of her mouth curling up in a smirk. ] Well, that's one thing I want, but we can work up to that.

[ Absently wetting her lips, she cants her head toward the bed. ] I'll settle for you getting comfortable on the bed.

[ And in the meantime she moves to finish undressing, having stripped down to her underwear. Though there's a momentarily distraction of her datapad chiming in the other room. Kylo growls under her breath and walks to the doorway so she can extend a hand and summon the object to her, tapping on the screen. ] Don't bother me with anything short of a genuine emergency or it will be the last time you do. [ she snaps at whoever's on the screen, closing the line of communication as quickly as it was opened. Another tap to mute the device, and her comm in general — those who might need to reach her know how — and she drops the device on top of a dresser with a slight huff. ]

[ he takes that brief moment of distraction to skim the room with his eyes for exits — an almost instinctual habit now; there were clearly no results to yield, but he couldn't stop himself from looking anyway. ]

Yeah, I bet you would.

[ it's a disgusted mutter to himself instead of outright backtalk this time. all the same, he gets on the bed. he's not being obedient because he's broken, he's... making it easier for himself? biding his time? right. those are solid reasons. denial is a river in star wars egypt.

that said, he sits on the bed. not on all fours. he's currently working on giving as little of himself to her commands as possible. ]

[ The muttering doesn't bother her. In a different mood it would, but not tonight, and not when he's being fairly well-behaved. Bra and panties cast aside with her other clothes, and a double-check to make sure there shouldn't be any further interruptions, she makes an idle gesture with one hand to have the bedroom door shut before she turns her focus to the bed. Nothing necessary but it's a personal preference, that extra touch of privacy.

And perhaps a small note of finality, that Poe's not currently going anywhere unless she chooses to let him.

There's nothing remotely demure or shy about the way she approaches him and, taking note of his seated position, she doesn't hesitate to swing a leg over his lap and straddle his thighs. A hand goes to his chest but she doesn't push him back on the bed, just lightly moving her hand to where she can feel his heartbeat under her palm. ]

I've been looking forward to this. [ she tells him, her other hand coming up to touch the side of his face, almost tenderly. Her fingers slip under his chin to tilt his head up as she leans down to kiss him. More a brushing of lips, really, and she nips at his lower lip as her eyes, already a little dark with lust, run over his face. ] I haven't gotten to see a real test of your stamina yet. I do hope you don't disappoint.

[ his heartbeat quickens under her palm, somewhere between scared and aroused.

when she kisses him, he doesn't really react. just sort of sits there and lets it happen to him. it's the most he can do to not push her away. he doesn't want this, but his physicality is a frog in boiling water.

all he can say is ]

Uh-huh.

[ that's the most "obedient" he can be while trying to play what he's decided is a game. that's the most he can pull out of himself. ]

[ As she lingers near she catches on that thought, on his desire for distance. It makes her tilt her head ever so slightly like catching a distant sound though her gaze and attention never leaves him. ]

Don't want to touch me, hmm? [ It comes out more a statement than a question. ] Well, if that's the case...

[ She lightly shrugs a shoulder, as if it's not a problem. It's then that she does push him back against the bed, although not nearly as hard as she could. She moves with him, leaning over him and sliding her hands along his arms as she moves to pull them over his head.

Her lips find his again in a brief, proper kiss, partly wanting to see if he'll yield at all or keep trying to not be an active participant. Regardless, when she lifts her head she also takes a hand off him to reach to the side, and there's a slight stirring of the air as she summons a set of restraints to her hand. Cuffs but definitely not the sort used in any official capacity. She doesn't hesitate to snap them around his wrists as soon as she has the chance. ]

[ he gives in inasmuch as he starts becoming a participant in the kiss, mostly because he thinks it might help him escape whatever fate is coming when she grabs and pulls his areas above his head. instead of the reward of freedom, they're quickly handcuffed. it's only then that he tries to struggle, trying to pull them off. it sets off a panic instinct. too much like the finalizer.

why didn't he try to struggle earlier?. or for the split second she wasn't touching him? it keeps happening. it keeps not even occurring to him to struggle. at least, not while her touching him is happening. he could pretend it's because he's playing her game deliberately, but deep down he knows some part of his brain is broken. it keeps happening and he keeps surviving it, so it's become something almost acceptable.

this is awful. he hates it. she's winning. ]

Seems like you've got it under control.

[ ugh no WRONG THING TO SAY.]

[ When he starts to struggle she sits back a little, just observing and not trying to stop him. Perhaps if he gets it out of his system now he'll be less likely to struggle and fight her later. Not that it ultimately matters, she's going to get what she wants regardless, but as time passes it's increasingly interesting to her what does and doesn't merit fighting against.

The comment earns a warm, almost flirtatious laugh from her. ]

Oh, I've certainly got you under control.

[ As if to further prove her point she reaches a hand out for her belt and uses it to securely attach the cuffs to the headboard, or at least securely enough for the time being. She hums a little sound of content as she trails her hands down his arms, and leans down, seeming like she's going to kiss him again but then changes her mind. ]

Should I choke you now and we'll see just how quickly you get hard? [ Her fingers brush the base of his throat, stroking the tender skin. ] Last time was, mmm, most enjoyable for both of us.

[ It's tempting but there's plenty of other options on her mind. She bends her head to graze her teeth along his collarbone and she starts to make her way down his body, her hands leading the way. A brush of lips here, a nip of teeth there. Taking her time since this is the first she's gotten to really explore.

One of her hands curls around the length of him, almost lazily stroking him. She presses a kiss to his hip and lifts her head enough to look up the length of his body at him. She's sure if she asked he'd claim he was hating every moment, but was he really? Her lips curl in a sly grin and she stops her stroking as she moves her head to lick at him once, twice, and then wraps her lips around the tip as she delicately teases him with her tongue. ]

[ he's caught in another moment of not wanting to admit she's right. she drew out something latent when she tried to choke him, and now he's afraid of it coming back. and how much he'll want it when it does. she can feel him swallow under her touch.

being touched by her in a light, intimate way — with no way to fight back — makes it feel like something in him is unraveling. he's a sweater she keeps tugging at the loose string of, until he unfurls completely.

he finds himself shuddering as she shows attention to his cock — but the noise is something pleasured. he hates it. he hates it, he needs to hate it. hating it is how he still feels like himself.

however — he likes how it feels; his body is in disagreement with his interal protest as he hardens in her hand. his hips try to buck up to meet her, even though he's trying to control himself. rational thoughts are evaporating.

he doesn't want to look at her, but he doesn't trust her enough to close his eyes and just let it happen. so he ends up starting in that directon… sort of. focusing on a spot of light behind her. ]

[ She lifts her head for a moment as his hips move but she doesn't scold the action or take the moment to draw further attention to how his body clearly doesn't mind her attention. At a different time, yes, not right now. She's enjoying — and trying to mentally note — his reactions. Enjoying making him want.

Her hands move to his hips, simply resting there more than making an effort to hold him still, and she tilts her head so she can run her tongue along the underside of his cock. When she takes him in her mouth again it's not simply to tease, slowly but steadily drawing him deeper. She rolls her eyes up to watch him as she does so, noting how he can't — or won't — quite look at her.

After another minute or two she pulls back, slowly licking her lips, but she lingers close enough for her breath to fan his skin. ]

Does it feel good, Poe? Do you want more? [ Her tone is lower, more intimate like her touch. Her hands, drifting from his hips, run along his thighs as she continues to look up toward his face. ] All you have to do is ask...

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