Note: This one is Reylux, and very slightly nsfw. I'd say more on the T side of nsfw. The original prompt for this was received as an anonymous ask on tumblr. It is below, at the end. The setting can be a "possible future" from my story Codega, to provide a little context on how Rey turned to the dark side.
Rey entered the large dining hall on the arm of General Armitage Hux. Kylo Ren, First Knight, was two steps behind her and to her right, acting in the capacity of bodyguard and head of the religious branch of the First Order on this night. They were dressed to impress, with the General in his dress uniform, medals shined and pinned to his breast, and his cap perched upon his brow. The First Knight wore his traditional robes, though they had been newly issued with freshly-cut cloth and new leather. He was without his helmet, however, choosing to forego it in favor of intimidation via his scarred features. He had found, of late, that the contrast of his hard eyes and his youthful features set enemies on edge.
Rey, however, was more the type to allow her seemingly innocent exterior to act as a lure to draw her unsuspecting enemies to her; letting them become complacent before she struck. Her hair had grown longer over the years and she had had it styled tonight in loose curls which fell across her shoulders and down her back. Her loose tunic dress fell to her knees in a gauzy white film and her arms were bare, though her chest was covered to her neck with a thick, intricate pattern of beautiful black lace. Her legs were covered completely with her knee-high black dress boots all the way to the hem of her dress, offering her the illusion of modesty with its coverage. She wore no jewelry besides the silver diadem of her station and the double-banded, simple silver wedding band that graced her slim left hand. Her lightsaber was hidden in a thigh holster, hidden beneath the expensive but well-draped fabric so that no one but she and her men knew where it was.
All of this was carefully crafted; chosen for maximum effect for their target audience.
The herald announced their presence. "Lady Rey Ren, Senator for the First Order system-state. General Armitage Hux, Commander of the First Order fleet. Lord Kylo Ren, First Knight of the Knights of Ren." His voice was loud, and carried to all corners of the hall.
A gasp went up from the crowd awaiting them. Rey had been anticipating this moment, though she made sure to keep her face plastered with a gentle, innocent smile, rather than the sharp grin of a woman high on power. There was no need to frighten them – not more than necessary. This was a surrender… the battle had already been won.
Rey had been waiting for them to realize she was wearing white. It was a clear insult to their local customs, which stated that no one but their Emperor-King could wear the color in question. By doing so, Rey was placing herself above every single one of their guests in the hall, and a clear reminder that she herself had landed the killing blow to their Emperor-King the week before, spilling his all-too-human crimson blood across the floor of this very same hall.
Ignoring their murmurs, the three of them made their way to the dais at the front of the room where a table was already half-occupied. Her two gorgeous, stoic men both assisted in pulling her chair out for her, and then waited until she was seated before pulling out their own chairs. Kylo sat to her right, and Taj to her left, and both immediately twisted in their seats to lean in towards where she sat, bracketed serenely between them. They treated her like their queen, and she would have it no other way. It was a heady, thrilling feeling, and it consumed her at almost every turn, to the point where she was almost constantly in a state of buzzing need.
As soon as she sat, the political elite of the planet they were subjugating attempted to vie for her attention. She ignored them all. There was nothing left to say. She already had them in her grasp. They were hers; they were the First Order's; they were nothing to her anymore. Nothing more than a figurative notch in her bedpost. A bedpost, both literal and figurative, that belonged to all three of them – for without these two men beside her, she was nothing. Without her, they were nothing.
She felt the light touch of Kylo's fingertips ghosting over the bare skin between her black lace socks, peeking over the edge of her boots, and the hem of her dress. Of course it would be him who broke first. Neither of them could ever contain themselves for long when she wore this style of outfit, but Kylo was always the one who gave in before Taj. Taj's self-control was often a little much, and she and Kylo took great pleasure in breaking his iron will, forcing him to submit to all things.
Rey kept her face placid and innocent, still, for the entire outer world to see. Her years of practice in the Senate chambers had refined her ability to hide exactly what she was thinking behind exactly the facial expression she wished to exhibit. She, Kylo, and Hux had also done this many a time, in far more public locations. This was nothing compared to some of the things they had done, and never been caught at.
Kylo's gloved fingers, cool against the heated skin of her inner thighs, were steadily creeping up under her skirt by the time Taj's own gloved fingers joined them. Taj, although always late to join, never wasted a moment, and he brushed his fingers against the other man's as he made his way towards Rey's core. He knew what he wanted, and he knew that he would get it.
Rey sat up straighter than before, slowly so as to appear natural, and smirked, opening her legs slightly wider. She gloried and smirked at Taj's breath hitching when he realized what she wasn't wearing beneath her dress. The smirk was all she would allow herself, keeping her face otherwise relaxed. Kylo and Taj were both leaning towards her and murmuring the odd phrase of meaningless prattle, well-practiced at covering all aspects of their public dalliances with the appearance of a whispered conversation that offered no opportunity for anyone to interrupt. Their faces were as composed as hers were, though Kylo was not always used to being without his mask and had to be watched for expressions that would let on too much.
Hand drifting higher, Kylo's hand eventually joined Taj's, their fingers stroking her wet folds together, perfectly in sync with each other and in tune with her body, her needs. They didn't need to see any expression on her face, relying solely on their memory of her body and the way it sang for them. She was so close – so close… but the sounds of the other people in the hall was driving her to distraction. And not in a good way.
She pushed up from the table, her chair making the most awful of grating noises, and her men's hands fell down into their laps. She noticed them surreptitiously pulling napkins into their laps as she announced, voice loud, authoritative… but bored. "Enough. There is no point to us being here, and the First Order has better things to do with its time. You will offer your surrender to Colonel Anders," she nodded to a man standing in the corner of the hall. She ignored the protests, cutting into them with her powerful voice. "You will surrender." She paused a moment, and then continued in a sweeter tone. "Welcome to the First Order."
And with that, she swept from the hall with her men – her partners – her husbands – at her heels. She had much more important things to tend to.
And no one who dared to stop her.
Note: Here is the original prompt. "I have this HC that Rey wears black dresses to official dinners/events-lovely modest things that hit just above her knee. But she wears knee socks with them, peeking up just over her boots, hugging the curve of her calf and leaving a stripe of tanned skin between her dress and socks. She always sits between Hux and Ren, and both of them itch to stroke that skin with their gloved fingers, to reach under her skirt and explore under the cover of the tablecloth. Rey just smirks."
