[ finn stumbles over the explanation, starting and stopping with vague gestures between them, but in honesty, the discomfort goes over her head. rey's exposure to sexual interactions would be hard-pressed to be described as anything but functional — she's wandered into the wrong space a time or two, seen crude grinding portrayed on a fuzzy holoscan in the outpost, even accidentally opened up the wrong room on ajan kloss and found herself witness to sight and sound on occasion, but she's never quite sought it out.
it being either the knowledge of what things were (or could be, rather) or what they felt like. so rather than blush or scramble to change the subject, rey simply shakes her head, because she doesn't understand and while finn seems eager to stop elaborating, she can't tell him to stop talking for her sake. ]
Finn, you know I've never — [ she makes a face, considering. ] What do they call it here? [ sex, fucking, kriffing. it doesn't matter the terminology when the extent of rey's own experience is aimless rutting against her hand in her bunk.
no subject
it being either the knowledge of what things were (or could be, rather) or what they felt like. so rather than blush or scramble to change the subject, rey simply shakes her head, because she doesn't understand and while finn seems eager to stop elaborating, she can't tell him to stop talking for her sake. ]
Finn, you know I've never — [ she makes a face, considering. ] What do they call it here? [ sex, fucking, kriffing. it doesn't matter the terminology when the extent of rey's own experience is aimless rutting against her hand in her bunk.
she blows out a breath. ]
You should show me. So I know.
[ fake it until you make it, right? ]