Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rey Niima has just had her last breakup. 

Or at least that’s what she’d told herself after she found out her boyfriend of nearly three years, that bastard Beau, was cheating on her. Life was already hard enough, between jumping from foster home to foster home and barely cobbling enough scholarships together to cover one hundred percent of her tuition for her freshmen year of college. 

And now, the one person she thought she could depend on in her chaotic life had betrayed her. 

With graduation imminent, Rey had decided to swear off love and embark on a journey of self-discovery and meaningless sex. It’s what any troubled girl would do, right? Who could really blame her?   

Done being the sad girl

I'm done dating rockstars

From now on only actors

Tall boys in the Raptors

I'll become an asshole

Disguised as a bad girl

In my button-up shirt

A natural disaster ¹

It was all going swimmingly well, and after hooking up with almost every unattached girl, guy, and non-binary hottie, in school, she almost had Beau out of her system. That was until she got caught in flagrante delicto by her most recent conquest, Kaydel’s Solo’s father. 

Rey, a scrappy survivor, had never backed down from a challenge before, and she wasn’t about to start in this car with a surly, disappointed father who was driving her home in the middle of the night to face her certain doom. With everything on the line, from her losing her current foster placement to her chance at a normal life, there was only one way this could go.

Mr. Solo picked the wrong girl to discipline. 

That is, or so she thought.

💔💔💔

After she accidentally saw the texts between Beau and multiple girls in his class on his phone, she realized that it was over, that she’d been had. It was at that moment she vowed to feel nothing for anyone for as long as possible. Because feeling nothing was better than feeling the deep ache of betrayal and the hole it had opened up inside of her that may never be filled.

The girls he cheated on her with were her first mission. Three out of five were a success, but one of them had even decided to continue dating him for who knows what reason. Beau was her problem now.

He’d had given her a gift by way of example. Fuck everyone. Feel nothing. It was working swimmingly so far.

After a late-night study session turned slumber party, Rey successfully convinced her acquaintance Kaydel that she should at least try hooking up with a girl once before she graduated. It had already worked quite well on a few other classmates, and once Rey had her first taste of pussy, she was hooked. She liked the thrill of being the dominant one for once, of exerting her power over another beautiful girl, especially ones she used to be intimidated by for whatever silly reason, like the fact that she was far from popular, and couldn't afford to dress as nice as them, even if she wanted to. Was she any better than her ex then? The deeper reflection would have to wait.

I'm not ready for therapy

To take accountability

Right now it's about me

Me and only 'bout me ²

Some of the most popular girls in the class had already crumbled under her skillful tongue. She didn’t care if they wanted to keep it secret or if they were getting back together with their boyfriends anyway. They got to hook up with the weird girl with blue streaks in her hair who smoked only when teachers were watching and listened to depressing music for fun. She got to be their formative queer experience. A story to tell long after they resumed being boring and "normal."

Not that it mattered. Nothing fucking mattered. Nothing could touch her now.

Kaydel was giggly and shy as Rey slid her pink lace-trimmed panties down the girl’s slender legs and kissed her way back up her shins. 

“Shh, relax,” Rey urged her, gently parting Kaydel’s thighs with her palms, smoothing them up and down in an attempt to get her to stop clamping them shut.

“Sorry, it’s just- I’ve never done anything like this before, not even with a guy. I mean, I’m not a virgin; it's just—I don’t know, vulnerable.”

Rey knew the feeling. Beau couldn’t have found her clit if she drew him a map and gave him turn-by-turn directions. Or he could, and he just didn’t care because she’d definitely tried. Each attempt had made her feel even more worthless and embarrassed. It was a miracle he’d duped so many other girls into cheating on her with him. But Rey was almost positive she’d surpassed him in stats by now, and it had only been a month. 

“It’s okay, just let me make you feel good,” Rey smiled reassuringly. “I’ll go slow. I’m gonna make you come.”

“Oh my god, okay,” Kaydel laughed shyly, covering her face with her hands. “I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“We don’t have to, you know. Your dad’s single, right? You think he’s still awake?” Rey gestured towards the bedroom door with her thumb. “Should I go see if he wants me to go down on him instead? He’s kinda hot–”

“Rey!” Kaydel hissed. “Don’t even joke about that. I’m just nervous, okay?”

Rey crawled up the bed to hover over the shy girl and dipped her face down, kissing her softly. “You’re so beautiful,” she whispered, pressing her body to Kaydel’s, grinding her clothed center against her friend’s bare mound. 

“Ah-” Kaydel whimpered. “So are you. Even though you try not to be.”

Rey ignored the common criticism. You'd be so much prettier if you didn't dye your hair such weird colors/dressed more girly and so on. Reaching a hand between Kaydel's legs, Rey sucked in a breath before resuming kissing her neck. “You’re so wet, fuck.”

“Oh god,” Kaydel responded, seemingly embarrassed. 

“That’s a good thing,” Rey cooed as she locked eyes with her and made a dramatic show of sucking her own fingers clean. She began kissing her way down Kaydel’s body, lifting up her shirt to press her lips to the swim team captain’s taut abdomen and finally closing her mouth over the girl’s neatly shaved sex. 

Kaydel threaded her fingers in Rey’s hair and pulled it tight as she bucked her hips, bringing a pleasurable sting to Rey’s scalp.

With a few strategic thrusts of her fingers, Kaydel was so close to unraveling. Rey loved this part— when she could sense the person’s body tensing up beneath her when they couldn’t hold back their lovely, ego-boosting sounds. It made her feel like the sexiest, most powerful person on earth.

If only she hadn’t been so distracted, she might have heard the bedroom door opening.

“Girls, it’s time to go to sleep–”

The room filled with light from the hallway, and Kaydel shrieked, abruptly sitting up and nearly kneeing Rey right in the nose. Rey joined her in scrambling to appear innocent, wiping her wet face with the back of her hand. 

“It’s not what it looks like, Daddy!” Kaydel cried out, which is one of the worst things you can probably say to a parent. What else could it look like when she was desperately searching for something on the bed to hide her waist-down nudity?

“Slumber party’s over. Rey, come with me.” His voice was authoritative, deep, and booming, and it activated a part of her brain that told her to move her ass immediately or face the consequences. “Kaydel, I’ll deal with you later,” he added with the disdain reserved only for one’s disobedient child. 

“Mr. Solo, I–”

She couldn’t go home in the middle of the night. No matter what reason she gave, her fed-up foster parents wouldn’t want to hear it. They were tired of her uncharacteristically flagging grades, the rumors they heard in the supermarket about that “loose girl,” and the looks from the other parents at school functions. The guidance counselor had expressed concerns that Rey was “acting out” in developmentally normal ways, but her parents had merely told her she was on thin ice and that the local youth home might be a better place for her to wait out her eighteenth birthday.

It was her third placement in so many years, and Beau had been there for all of it, or so she’d thought. Often it wasn’t even her fault. The people got divorced, or they finally got the fresh, unsullied infant they’d actually been hoping for, or they needed to move, etc. etc. A plethora of guilt-free reasons to dump her, send her to the next place, and wish her well. She wasn’t a kid to them anymore, too old to be adopted anyway. No one wanted her, plain and simple. 

She had still somehow managed to secure a free ride to college, so she had a place to go in the fall, at least. But there was no way she was going to live out her final days as a minor in some noisy, overcrowded facility where she couldn’t get decent sleep (or get laid, for that matter.)

Mr. Solo was definitely going to drive her home, ring her bell and wake up her keepers, thinking he was being a good fellow parent, and little did he know he was basically signing her eviction notice.

At least she had the full ten-minute ride to convince him otherwise, no matter what it took.

His eyes scanned her up and down, taking stock of her ripped fishnets and skintight black biker shorts, her scuffed, second-hand Doc Martens. Her oversized Joy Division shirt hovered around the hem of the shorts in an attempt to hide her body, but it only accentuated the length of her legs. She tugged at the hem involuntarily, feeling deeply self-conscious under his intimidating gaze.

“I don’t want to hear it, Rey. I’m taking you home.”

“Yes, Mr. Solo.” She lowered her eyes, put on her most apologetic face, and left the room without even a glance back at Kaydel. It was too embarrassing to think that Kaydel might pity her or, worse, not care at all that she was heading home to her doom.

But she wasn’t here for that, for someone to have her back, to care what happened to her after the orgasmic glow wore off. She wasn’t trying to feel any more than that. Then it was on to the next. Just like the rest of her existence.  

Mr. Solo led her down the stairs and grabbed his key off a hook by the front door, under a framed photo of their small family, now one person smaller after Kaydel’s mom had passed away last year. 

Kaydel’s dad didn’t interact with them much earlier when they’d eaten a quick dinner of leftovers while studying, and Rey hadn’t taken him for a super-strict guy. But then again, she hadn’t spent all that much time with him before making her move on his daughter. 

“Shit, he turned around, finally looking directly at her for the first time. “You got all your things?”

She pointed to her backpack on the floor next to the door. “Just this,” she declared. 

He scooped it up by one of the straps and opened the front screen door to step onto the porch. “Lock it behind you,” he commanded casually as he stalked towards the Volvo station wagon in the driveway and pressed the key fob to unlock it.

“Yes, sir,” she said dutifully, turning the lock on the inner knob before shutting it quietly behind her. 

She jogged to the car, and he was already in the driver’s seat, turning the key in the ignition. As she sat inside, she closed the door and folded her hands primly in her lap.

“Seatbelt, please,” He said sullenly as he put the car in reverse. “Now.”

“Yes, sir,” she repeated like a disturbed parrot, hastily grasping the strap and fumbling to place it in the latch. 

“For fucks sake, let me.” 

“Sorry, sir.”

He closed his warm, dry palm over her hand and helped guide the buckle until it snapped into place. His touch lingered for a moment before he pulled away, and she didn’t dare look up at him or express her confusion or dismay at herself for failing to complete such a simple task. 

She didn’t usually get rattled by adults, having seen such a wide breadth of incompetence and stupidity from them over the years. Further, she’d had to raise herself mostly, cooking her own meals, doing her own laundry, and forging her own school forms. 

She also raised a carousel of ever-changing younger kids and considered herself widely knowledgeable in simple home and car repairs. All in all, it had led to her having less faith in adults and more in herself to get shit done, and she could barely take them seriously whenever they told her what to do. She was usually on her way to do it anyway. 

Mr. Solo, however, had a commanding presence. He was tall as hell, wide-shouldered, and had dark hair and eyes that, in this low lighting, made look him just this side of menacing. She could see why Kaydel was typically such a good girl. Being on this side of the man’s disappointment was humbling, to say the least.

“I bet you’re sorry,” he scoffed, stretching an arm behind her headrest as he backed out of the driveway, craning his neck to guide their safe entry into the street.

It was well after midnight, and Rey had simply assumed he’d be asleep, but he was still fully dressed in his gym clothes, a hoodie and joggers, and a pair of old-school basketball sneakers. He had to be over forty, but in the dark, she could almost mistake him for a college-aged guy.

She swallowed hard and took a bracing breath before she spoke lest she sound frightened or nervous. “I am so sorry, Mr. Solo. Really, I swear I am.”

It was a lie. They were just fucking around. Why was he so mad anyway? It’s not like she was gonna get Kaydel pregnant. Unless he was a homophobe or something, which sent a sudden frisson of fear down her spine.

“How long you have been, uh– with my daughter?”

“Just tonight,’ she replied quickly. “We’re not dating or anything. And it won’t happen again. You’ll never have to see me again, actually.”

She hoped that would be sufficient to clinch it but kept rambling anxiously for some reason.

“We’re not even really gay, you know. Just girls experimenting. No big deal.”

“That’s not the problem. Jesus, I’m not worried about that,” he interjected, and Rey immediately felt her shoulders relax. At least he wasn’t a bigot.

“It’s just exactly that. You’re not even dating her. And I don’t think I saw you using protection.”

“Oh,” Rey replied softly. “You’re right. It’s irresponsible.”

He turned on the blinker and onto the darker road that led to her house on the other side of town. The poor side.

She could see the look on Mr. Solo’s face as he took in the shoddiness of her neighborhood. 

The potholes that would never be fixed. The blinking streetlights, if there were any to speak of. Cracked sidewalks. Litter galore. The boulevard of broken dreams.

“Can you just pull over for a second?” she asked eagerly as they neared her street. “I just need to tell you something.”

This is where she planned to lay down the sob story. Look around. Do you see what I’m dealing with? Cut a troubled teen girl a break.

 “I’m not doing that, Rey.”

Without thinking, she grabbed his elbow. “Please Mr. Solo! Please!” 

He jerked the steering wheel to the side, almost hitting a garbage can left out in the street, and slammed the brakes, throwing her forward against her tightened seatbelt.

“Fuck, Rey! You can’t grab someone while they’re driving!”

“I’m sorry!” she wailed, real tears springing to her eyes. “It’s just– I can’t go home, sir. They’ll kick me out, and I’m so close to graduation. I just can’t afford that stress right now. My grades are already going downhill, and I can’t lose my scholarship. Please, they won’t understand. I mean nothing to them!”

She watched his jaw work and his thick eyelashes flutter up and down as he listened to her impassioned plea.

It may have been slightly embellished. The Plutts weren’t technically abusive or even cruel unless you counted complete emotional unavailability and lack of warmth as such. Though she truly believed she meant nothing to them and that they wouldn’t hesitate to throw her ass back to the government. 

“Rey, I won’t tell them why, just that I needed to bring you home. I’ll think of something.”

“It doesn’t matter, Mr. Solo. They’ll fill in the blanks. They already think I’m a delinquent and a slut.”

“Is that so?” he quirked an eyebrow.

She shrugged. She’d been laying it on pretty thick, but it couldn’t hurt. Maybe she could use that angle to her advantage. After all, she hadn’t been lying when he said he was cute to Kaydel earlier. But never in her wildest dreams would she actually go through with it. And he was one of those good parents. The type that held their kid accountable and grounded them “with love.” Or at least that’s how he seemed on the surface.

“I don’t mean to be this way, sir. It’s just, you know, I just got my heart broken. I guess you could say I’m using casual, meaningless sex as a coping mechanism.” It occurred to her that she’d already said too much, but at least it was the most honest thing she’d said to him so far. “I didn’t mean to take advantage of your daughter, I really like her. This is all my fault, please don’t take it out on her.”

“So you’re using your classmates for sex.”

“Well, it doesn’t sound very nice when you put it that way,” she pouted.

“And, do you only like girls, or?”

This wasn’t the type of question adults were supposed to ask, she was pretty sure. If it was appropriate, the hairs on her neck wouldn’t be standing straight up.

“I, uh, I’m fluid when it comes to that stuff. It was a guy who just cheated on me. We were together since freshman year. I’m just trying to get him out of my system.”

I'm only in it for the sex

That's why I'm never gonna love again

I'm only in it for the sex

Blame my ex, blame my ex, blame my ex ³

“Huh,” he stated matter of factly, almost like he was amused, pleased even.

“Has anyone ever used you for sex, Rey?”

She bit her lip and looked up at the man, who was now staring darkly at her like he might take a bite of her if he got any closer.

“Um, probably,” she shrugged, feeling more nervous than ever before. “It’s fine. I’m leaving feelings out of it for now, anyway. It’s easier that way.”

“Hmm,” he muttered again, and it was really starting to freak her out. Like she was being assessed, and she wasn’t sure if she was passing or failing or what either outcome would entail.

“You really don’t want to go home, do you? Telling an older man excruciating details about your sex life just to save your own ass. That’s pretty ballsy.”

She really, really didn’t want to go home.

“No, sir. Please. I can just sleep on your couch, and I promise I’ll leave Kaydel alone.”

He steered the car to a dark patch on the side of the street, in front of a field of weeds, and shifted it into park before taking off his seatbelt and turning towards her, one hand still resting confidently on the wheel. 

“Okay,” he said, his voice low. “You can come back to our house.”

“Really?” she asked, grinning. “Oh, Mr. Solo, you have no idea–”

“Wait, I’m not finished-” he cut her off. “First, I need you to take off your seatbelt and get in the back seat.”

“Why?” she said, as naively as possible before the nature of his request truly sunk in. He wondered if he could see the light leave her eyes just as she felt it drain from her body.

She’d practically given him the idea. She was so stupid.

“Did you hear me, Rey? Be a good little slut and get in the back, now, or I’ll just take you home.”

“Ye-yes, sir,” she stammered, fumbling with the buckle again. He reached over and unclicked it for her, his hand lingering on hers, squeezing this time.

“That’s a good girl,” he praised her, his voice syrupy and edged with sinister glee. 

She opened the door and stepped out into the dark, unforgiving night. 

Chapter Text

Rey sat on her hands in the backseat, her heartbeat echoing in her ears as she waited for him to join her. Mr. Solo checked his phone and leaned down to push the passenger seat forward. He was a big man. Of course, he’d need more room to do what he planned to do to her. He closed his door and opened the one across from her before landing in the backseat with a heavy grunt.

“You dress like total jailbait, you know,” he said with a cursory glance at her, voice dripping with condescension.

She shrugged, reaching up to fondle her mini-padlock necklace and curl a stray strand behind her ear, fighting the urge to tighten her ponytail. It wasn’t the first time she’d heard that, and it wasn’t like she gave a shit what people thought of her fashion sense.

“I don’t mean to,” she replied with as little defiance as possible. Telling him to fuck off wasn’t an option unless she wanted a one-way ticket to the group home.

She remained still, keeping her eyes fixed on the seat in front of her, vision blurring. If she didn’t look directly at or sass him, maybe he’d lay off a little–like when you see a dangerous animal in the woods. It’s not that she was even all that scared. She figured she probably should be since she was in the car with a middle-aged man who held her future in his hands, so she acted accordingly. 

He reached for her bag, where he’d tossed it on the floor, and set it in his lap as he unzipped it.

She didn’t dare say a word. She was a little nervous, but this wasn’t her first rodeo by any means. Plenty of foster parents had done the same, assuming she was on drugs or stealing from them, looking for any reason to validate how little they wanted to keep her around. It felt natural to lean in the moment. 

Don her veil of indifference. Resist all feelings. Retain her power.

“Ah, there it is,” he declared smugly, holding her the baby pink plastic birth control pack between his thumb and forefinger, thrusting it forward for her inspection. 

“I- it’s for health reasons,” she declared, which was only partially true. Condoms weren’t all that easy to get. She still went to the local Planned Parenthood once a month and got tested just to be safe and snagged as many rubbers as she could from the fishbowl on the front desk without drawing too many judgmental looks. Even then, they could still break. Better safe than sorry.

“Enough lies for tonight,” he insisted, shoving them back into her backpack before tossing into the front seat. Now, she wouldn’t be able to grab it and run if it came to that. 

Nonetheless, every survival instinct she’d honed over the years was now on high alert. There was no doubting his intentions now, even if he was trying to scare her into submission. In no world could she imagine she was getting out of here scot-free. Hand job, minimum. 

And she hadn’t decided how she felt about that quite yet. 

“Yes sir,” she replied gravely. 

She had to ask herself how bad it would be if he did try to fuck her. She also wondered if she might enjoy fucking someone who actually knew what they were doing. She’d had to take the lead a lot lately with numerous shy and inexperienced partners. It might be nice to let someone else drive for once. Maybe she’d even get to come. If only Beau could see her now. This big ol’ tree of a man could probably fuck circles around that dickwad.

And she didn’t feel bad about not entirely hating what was happening, either. If anything, it said more about what a not-so-great person Mr. Solo was than her being some shameless slut. And she sure as hell wasn’t interested in seeing herself as a victim. 

No, none of this was her fault, even if she’d tried to put her hand on his crotch or something like that. This was all on him. He was a father and a grown-ass adult, and here he was, taking advantage of his young daughter’s little friend. What a freakin’ dirtbag.

A hot dirtbag, at least.

So be it, then. It’s not like she needed him to love or care about her. None of that, thanks. It would just be sex, potentially even decent sex. Then it would be over, and she’d never have to see him again, except maybe in the grocery store. She could handle that. 

If the past month had taught her anything, she could bear the pain, the rejection. She was pretty accustomed to feeling unwanted and disposable. It was like whatever switch in her brain allowed her to give a shit had been switched off the moment Beau broke things off. It had probably started to flip much earlier than that when her parents left her at their drug dealer’s house as collateral and never returned. 

She was getting really good at feeling nothing, and this situation was no different. She wouldn’t feel shit . Not fear, not sadness, and certainly not shame. 

Mr. Solo leaned back in his seat and patted both of his thighs like a nonchalant mall Santa, thighs splayed wide, knees close to touching the seat in front of him, despite having nudged it forward as far as it would go. “Come on over here and sit in my lap, sweetheart.”

The word sent an odd little shiver down her spine, something she hadn’t felt in a very long time. 

Sweetheart.  

As if she was dear to him. Like he wasn’t about to raw her in the back of his Volvo like a whore.

Regardless of her strengthened resolve, she carried on with her timid fawn act. She couldn’t help but notice that he seemed to be getting off on trying to scare her. His eyes sparkled, and he licked his upturned lips like a greedy wolf who’d just seen a flash of red through the trees. 

And yeah, maybe it was thrilling her a little bit too. She could really play this up. Make it worth both their while.

Oh no, Mister Big Bad Wolf. Please don’t eat me.

She shifted her body towards him, lifting her heavy boots gingerly over the divider in the center of the floor before lifting herself carefully, only to land awkwardly in his lap. His large hands closed around her waist with confidence, pulling her close to his body, letting her thighs spread between his. Her ass rested squarely on the obvious hard-on straining against his joggers.

“That’s it. That’s a good girl,” he said, his breath hot on the back of her neck. He wrapped her ponytail around his fist, yanking her head back. Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, she almost felt something akin to fear. He wouldn’t hurt her, though. Not here where her screams could easily wake up the closest neighbor. But for the first time, it felt possible that she might be slightly in over her head.

“Bet you didn’t picture your night ending like this, huh? Started out eating my daughter’s pussy, and now you’re about to get fucked by her old man.”

“You saw that, huh?” she quipped, hesitating to add you fucking creep to her retort. 

“Sure did,” his voice laced with barely concealed mirth.  

He gathered her oversized t-shirt in his fist until he could slide his warm, dry palm up her bare stomach. She squirmed involuntarily and sucked in a breath. He had her pinned now. He could do whatever he wanted. Instead of scaring her, it made her feel strangely relaxed. All she had to do now was let it happen. 

“Tight little teen body. Jesus. You must think I’m a fuckin’ pervert, huh?”

“No more than any other man,” she responded without thinking, though it was a white lie. A “This is your Life” montage of every leer, catcall, and wolf whistle she’d heard in her young life flashed through her mind. All the older men and most of the boys she’d encountered in her life were mostly the same, even some of her foster “dads.” No one had ever taken it this far, though.

“You would know,” he scoffed, and she couldn’t help but wince. She guessed he wasn’t one for dismantling the patriarchy.

He wrenched down each of her soft bra cups and began eagerly fondling her breasts, loosening his grip on her ponytail to gently cup her throat as he held her still against his body. “Nice little tits. So soft.,” he remarked. 

She kept quiet, relaxing into him, letting him have his fun, concentrating on trying to eke out her own enjoyment from the whole sordid affair. He threaded her increasingly hardened nipples through his thick fingers and teased them with the calloused tips.

“This turning you on?” he asked without waiting for the answer. “I bet it is. Little tease.”

If she kept her eyes closed and he kept massaging her breasts firmly but gently, she imagined she might be able to fall into a tenuous sleep, like she often did at the dentist while getting her teeth cleaned. Getting to stay still for once. Let someone else do the work. Wait it out. Enjoy the ride for what it’s worth.

Once satisfied with his exploration of her now tender breasts, he trailed his palm down the taut expanse of her stomach. He dipped his fingers past the elastic waistband of her shorts, burrowing past the lace trim of her panties. “And what do we have here?” he breathed in her ear. 

She was distinctly aware that he wasn’t kissing her neck, but he kept his nose pressed against her hair, and his breaths grew louder and heavier as he escalated the increasingly intimate touch. He slipped into her panties and slid a finger through her center, parting her lips to release the slick that had gathered ever since she’d willingly accepted her fate.

“You’re so fucking wet. Jesus. You really want this, don’t you? You like getting felt up by an old man twice your age?”

He seemed eager for her to validate them, and she couldn’t give him the satisfaction just yet.

“No,” she lied, though she involuntarily clenched at the suggestion. He already thought she was a slut, no need to encourage him.

He slid his fingertips further down her slit, pressing against her tender hole and drawing them back up again to circle her clit, maddeningly slowly, the pressure just light enough to drive her bonkers. “If you don’t want it, why is your pussy soaking my fingers, hmm?” 

"Probably because I was about to fuck your hot daughter not too long ago?" She offered, hoping to rile up his ego and get him to move faster. 

Instead, he used the hand around her throat to give a quick, sharp slap to one of her breasts that made her gasp embarrassingly loudly. 

“Watch it now,” he threatened. 

“Sorry,” she whimpered, wondering what else she could say to get him to do that again. “It’s just that I can still taste her.”

“Well, I’m definitely not gonna kiss you, then. That's too fucked up even for me.”

“You thought about it, though,” she replied huskily.

“Take this off,” he commanded as he started to lift her shirt over her head. “I only thought about kissing you because you're so pretty,” he cooed. “I bet you look even prettier when you’re getting fucked by my big cock,” he added. Childish but effective. 

She pressed her thighs together, wondering if he was just going to get it over with already or keep making empty promises.

He tossed her shirt to the floor and maneuvered their bodies on the seat until she was on all fours in front of him, facing the opposite door. She looked over her shoulder at him as he settled on his knees and started to yank her shorts down her thighs impatiently. Silent except for some grunting associated with moving his large body within the confines of the cramped car interior, he ripped her fishnets apart and pulled the gusset of her panties to the side. Tingling with goosebumps, she practically vibrated with anticipation. 

Things were racing along now, and she wasn’t mad about it. She was going to be fucked by a real man for once. Maybe this is what would finally free her. End her parade of meaningless trysts. She doubted anything would top this, lest she really go off the deep end and start ripping an even more destructive path through town, seducing teachers, local business leaders, and pastors. 

He spread her cheeks apart and spit loudly, the warm saliva startling her before he smoothed it over her pussy with the thick flats of his fingers. Seemingly frustrated with the stubborn fabric surrounding her sex, he pulled her fishnets and panties down her thighs to rest over her tight shorts, leaving her completely bared to him. 

“Tight, perfect ass, fuck,” he remarked, smoothing both hands over her exposed skin and spreading her cheeks apart before giving her a double slap. She grunted in response, steadying her hands on the seat, her arms already feeling like jelly. She focused on the door in front of her, hesitant to turn her eyes to the night sky. 

She heard the soft shuffling as he jerked himself to hardness. She could barely make a smart-alec remark about how her ass was indeed perfect before he was smearing the broad head of his cock around in her slick, testing her opening with a cursory press. 

“Unh–” she grunted out, biting her lower lip as she braced herself. 

“Bet you never had a cock like this, sweetheart,” he bragged, not so humbly. 

She couldn’t tell yet for sure, but the way she resisted him, she could tell it was massive. The pressure was slow and exquisite as he pushed inside. She expected it to be rough and fast now, given how eager he was, and prepared herself for disappointment despite her earlier fantasies of getting a proper adult dicking down. Hopefully, it wouldn’t be too painful. 

“Don’t worry, baby, just relax, I’ll make it fit.” He stroked her back with one hand and gripped her hip, making his size increasingly known.

Yeah, it was fucking huge.

“Ah–” she whimpered, her back arching in response as if she could stop what was coming. 

“Shh, it’s okay. You can take it,” he reassured her in a soothing voice, like he was teaching her how to ride a bike and not splitting her in half.

He reached forward and wrenched her left arm behind her back, throwing her off balance momentarily before holding her steady. Using her wrist as a handle of sorts, he slid all the way in (or so she hoped).

“Fuck. Good girl. Almost took the whole thing. Don’t worry. We’ll work up to it. This is good enough to get me off. Fuck, gripping me so tight.”

He pulled out and pushed back in ever so slowly, and she attempted to process the pleasure and the helplessness all at once. As it turned out, one only served to amplify the other. As he moved faster, she could feel how wet she was, how her pussy stretched and relaxed to accommodate him, and how the pleasure ratcheted up so quickly that she thought she might come from sheer surprise.

It felt good. Too good. Rey wasn’t afraid of him, but she was certainly fearful of how much she liked it. If someone could make her feel this good while attempting to treat her so badly, she wondered if she would ever accept anything less ever again.

Closing her eyes, she let go of the performance, just for a moment. 

“Ah-fuck!” she cried out.

“You like that, you little slut? You like this big fucking cock?” 

His pace increased further until lewd slapping sounds filled the car. She could see the windows starting to fog up around them, shutting out the world for good.

“Yeah!” she cried out. “Fuck me! Fuck me!”

He hunched over her, crossing his arms over her lower back to grip her hips with the opposite hands. He slowed his pace, focusing instead on driving himself as deeply as possible with drawn-out, torturous grinding.

“Gonna fill this little pussy up. You’re gonna drip my cum for a fucking week. It's so fucking deep. Shit. Maybe you can take it all. Perfect fucking pussy.”

She felt her heart fall. It couldn’t be over. Not yet. 

With her arms free, she pushed back into him, egging him on to fuck her harder, letting her pleasure make itself known through her vocal cords.

“Shit,” he spat out, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull her against him and sit down again without even breaking contact. With her legs trapped by her shorts and other garments. She let herself go limp in his lap as he rearranged her limbs and spread her wider, keeping her speared on his cock all the while. 

His arms wrapped around her like bars as he fucked up into her, still achingly slow. 

 “I wanna feel your whole body shake,” he growled in her ear as a hand snaked down her body and cupped her sex. 

She let her head loll back on his shoulder as he pressed rough circles into her clit, grasping her breast enthusiastically with his other hand. 

“You gonna come for me? All over this big cock?”

“Yeah,” she told the truth. “Please.”

She was breathless, lost in the world inside this car where only they existed, as he wrung sublime pleasure from her body. It wasn’t long before her thighs began to tremble, and she was writing against him, clenching down on his thick shaft.

“Fuck! Oh fuck! I’m coming. Oh god. Fuck! I’m coming.”

She felt herself gush around his length, sweat beading her skin, soaking into his shirt beneath her back. 

She heard the door handle activate, and a rush of cooler air filled the car as he shoved the door open and pivoted their bodies to face outward, revealing them to the summer night.

Her eyes popped open in a panic, still glazed over from her orgasm. She assessed their surroundings, finding nothing but the dark blanket of night and a steady rhythmic orchestra of insects filling the air. 

With his feet planted on the pavement, he grabbed her biceps and started fucking her roughly, bouncing her helplessly in his lap. Her ponytail fell out, her hair cascading over her shoulders and back, obscuring her face along with her view of the world. It didn’t matter what happened next. Nothing mattered except how his body seemed perfectly aligned and attuned to hers.

“Shh,” he hissed. “Be quiet. You’re gonna wake the whole goddamn neighborhood,” he scolded. 

With some effort and careful contortion around the door frame, he stood them both up and clamped his hand over her mouth, straining her neck backward. He wrenched her arm behind her back again, keeping it tight against his body so she couldn’t move away or bend over. His dick angled perfectly against her front wall, making it harder for her not to cry out. 

The loud sounds of their bodies slapping against each other joined the night chorus, and the sheer thrill of being so exposed while being fucked by the most inappropriate of men brought her close to another climax. Her bared tits bounced above her crumpled bra, her teeth clenched, and her hands were balled into fists as if her whole body began to coil like a loaded spring.

“Good girl. That’s it. Don’t worry. It’ll all be over soon,” he reassured her with choppy breaths as he pounded into her.

It sent her over the edge, and she cried into the humid shelter of his palm.

“Fuck! Did you just fucking come again? Jesus fuck!”

He slammed into her a few more times before his hips finally stilled as he filled her with hot cum.

Loosening his grip on her face and arm, he wrapped his arms around her briefly and pressed his nose to her nape in what could be mistaken for a hug or even a lover’s embrace. That is if she didn’t know any better. He slipped out and sat back on the seat, catching his breath. 

She stood there, mostly nude and thoroughly debauched, attempting to gain her bearings. As she turned around and stepped away from the car to restore her bra and bottoms, she became more keenly aware of the risk of being caught in such a state, even if they’d already gotten away with it.

“Get yourself together,” he grunted, echoing her concern as he handed her her t-shirt and stuffed himself back in his pants. Even as it softened, she could see how big it was, and the sight of his wet cock sent a wave of pride through her. She’d done that to him.

His brow furrowed as he stared past her. Without another word, he stood and got back in the driver’s seat, starting the engine without so much as a glance back at her. It was like it hadn’t even happened, though she could feel his cum pooling in her panties now.

It didn’t escape her that he might have instantly regretted what he’d just done and/or felt too guilty to look her in the eye. It was warranted, of course. He was a creep and a dirtbag who’d just taken advantage of a teen girl in dire straits. 

And she’d liked it a little too much. It was better that he was silent. She needed to keep that switch firmly in place.  

I'm only in it for the sex

That's why I'm never gonna love again

I'm only in it for the sex

Blame my ex, blame my ex, blame my ex¹

Once her shirt was back on, she closed the door and rounded the car to return to the passenger side. When she sat down, his hands were already firmly on the wheel, and he stared straight ahead.

“Seatbelt.” 

It was all he said before he put the car into drive and turned it back toward his house.

As she fastened the buckle herself this time, she realized it’d worked. She’d gotten what she wanted–for better or worse.

She hadn’t yet decided.

Chapter Text

Mr. Solo drove faster now than he had when he’d initially endeavored to take her home, almost as if he was rushing to get her back. She tried not to look directly at him, eyes focused on the road ahead, minimizing her tendency to fidget with her clothes and jewelry. As much as it might satisfy him, she didn’t want to let on that she was at all nervous. 

And she wasn’t, of course. While her mind reeled from what had just happened, given how little she’d expected from it, she couldn’t believe she’d gotten so much more out of it than she’d ever imagined. Mr. Solo had just fucked her brains out, and she’d loved it. 

She felt squirmy and unsettled, but most of all, worn out as the adrenaline began to drain from her system. Sleep was more than welcome at this point, even though he’d probably just put her up on the lumpy couch in the living room. She was positive she’d pass out as soon as her head hit the pillow.

Regardless, Rey already knew that Kaydel had practice in the morning, and she hadn’t planned to linger past grabbing a cold pop-tart from the pantry and heading on her merry way. Rey knew better than to out-stay her welcome.

He turned off the car and raced ahead of her to unlock the front door, and she trailed behind him, grabbing her backpack off the floor and slinging it over her shoulder as she rushed to keep pace with him.

“Shh,” he reprimanded as she scurried in behind him. He spun around to close the door as she passed by him. “Don’t you dare wake her up,” he hissed, grabbing her by the upper arm and stopping her from advancing further into the living room. The house was small, and Rey quickly realized her error in not being quieter with Kaydel earlier. Mr. Solo seemed somewhat nervous about causing a disturbance. 

“I won’t,” she whispered back, dipping her head down and holding onto her backpack strap with both hands like a tether that might keep her soul from floating out of her body. 

Seemingly satisfied, he released his grip and hung his keys on the hook by the door.

So much had changed since she’d left this house less than an hour ago, and it was as if she were a brand-new person. One who fucked people’s dads and got away with it somehow. Someone who was into that sort of thing.  

His transparency was almost comforting in a world where most other adults tried to pretend they had their shit together. He was clearly a mess of a human being, and he’d let her see him in all his pathetic glory. Not only taking advantage of her in his car but having the gall to sneak him back into his house as if nothing had happened at all. If she was anywhere close to naive, she might almost feel special. 

She walked towards the couch and set her bag down, turning around to face him in the dim light, expecting him to make a show of going to find her some sheets or at least tell her to keep it down again or not to eat his food, to go right to sleep.

“What do you think you’re doing?” he sneered. “You’re coming with me,” he gestured with an air of frustrated urgency, eyes darting between Rey and the stairs leading up to the bedrooms.

“Um- I thought you said not to wake her-” she stammered, raising her voice above a whisper.

“You’re not going to her room. Get your shit, and let’s go,” he pointed aggressively towards her bag and then the stairs.

She briefly wondered if he was afraid of being caught. How he’d explain to his daughter what exactly he was doing with her friend in the middle of the night. But his glare brooked no argument, and she knew he still held her fate in his oversized palms.

Not wanting to provoke any further dismay, she rushed past him and tiptoed up the stairs as he followed closely behind, like the unsettling feeling that follows you through the house late at night. Except that he wasn’t her anxious subconscious or the remnants of a too-scary movie she shouldn’t have watched alone. 

He was real, and he clearly wasn’t finished with her.

She knew which door was his and tiptoed straight past Kaydel’s closed one, Mr. Solo hot on her heels. As he reached around her shoulder to turn the knob for her, his back just about pressed into hers. When she turned back to look up at him, his eyes were wide, and his index finger was pressed to his lips. She walked slowly through the open door away from his radiant heat and flinched as she heard it click shut behind them. 

A single dim bedside lamp illuminated the darkly furnished room. All signs of femininity from his late wife had clearly been purged, leaving just dark curtains, a black bedspread, and minimal abstract decor. Some small, artfully arranged trays with cufflinks and cologne populated the sleek mahogany surfaces of his dresser and side tables. 

It was neat. Barely lived in. 

He brushed past her to the ensuite bathroom and flicked the light on, making her squint against the sudden brightness. The sound of him rifling the drawers, followed by footsteps, startled her enough to nearly drop her bag. It’s not that she was scared, per se. He’d already had his way with her. It was merely unsettling, not knowing when or if he would ever let her leave. If he expected her to stay the night. To be left alone with her thoughts as he dozed beside her after having wrung every drop of pleasure from her body.

His footsteps were light on the carpet as he approached her again with a small object in his hand, unfurling his palm to present it to her. “Here’s a toothbrush. I’ll get you something to sleep in.”

She accepted the small cardboard package and deposited her backpack by the bathroom door, stepping into the brighter room and steadying herself with a deep breath. He didn’t protest when she closed the door behind her, and she breathed a small sigh of relief in anticipation of relieving her bladder and hopefully fending off a wicked UTI. 

After placing the toothbrush on the nearly bare bathroom counter, she peeled down her shorts and fishnets and sat on the cool toilet seat. She propped her elbows on her knees and pressed her palms into her eyes until she saw bright, floaty blobs and shapes. Her vulva was only a little worse for the wear, just a tad tender from the absolute pounding he’d given her. It probably helped that she’d come not once but twice , which she still couldn’t believe. 

Now here she was, stalling, wondering if he planned to plow her all night long or lock her in his basement, given the chance. He could probably get away with it, she mused, her sense of humor increasingly darkened over the years. She had to laugh, really, because the alternative was so much worse–hopelessness. Despair.

No one would miss her, though she was sure of it, save for a few casual acquaintances at school that she hasn’t fucked and/or pissed off yet. Certainly not Beau and everyone who’d taken his side afterward. 

Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad. At least Mr. Solo wanted her. 

Mr. Solo. 

She huffed a laugh to herself, wondering if she’d earn the right to call him by his first name by the time the night was through. Unless he preferred sir? Or daddy?

But maybe he’d just put her straight to bed. She could fall asleep dreaming about having a loving father who actually cared about making her feel good as well as her basic needs. He’d feed her in the morning and send her on her way in the morning with a little forehead kiss, perhaps, like nothing ever happened. Nothing but dirty little secret never to be spoken of again. Just a little fun with a lost little girl who’d surely never tell.

When she emerged, he was sitting on the bed, an ankle crossed over the opposite knee, hands folded. 

Waiting.

“Thank you for the toothbrush,” she said quietly, threading her fingers together, eyes trained on his bare feet. He’d abandoned the hoodie, clad now only in a tightly-fitting black t-shirt and the same joggers. 

He stood then, walking towards her at a slow pace until she had no choice but to walk backward into the opposite wall, not quite pinned but not exactly free to move about, either. 

Gazing into her eyes, she felt like frozen prey and swallowed hard as he wrapped both hands around her face, thumbs resting on her cheekbones, fingertips surrounding her entire skull, pinkies resting on the juncture of each shoulder. He could move her any way he wanted, like a doll, she mused to herself. It was almost relaxing, knowing she couldn’t stop him–not that she wanted to. 

“Now I can kiss you, hmm?” he said in a soothing, almost playful voice. 

When he leaned down and closed his lips over hers, she nearly forgot to breathe until she was forced to suck in air through her nostrils embarrassingly loudly. She scrabbled to grasp at his wrist as his tongue swept into her mouth, greedy and insistent. As she writhed against the wall, he pressed his body against hers, finally ensuring she had no escape. The kiss continued seemingly forever until she couldn’t help but whimper a little, relaxing her body and accepting that there was more to come and that she would be genuinely disappointed if it ended here. 

“You like this, don’t you?” He chuckled darkly.  

His grip on her face tightened, and he waited for the minimal nod she could manage before shoving his tongue past her lips again and pressing his thigh against her core, the hint of another amused laugh reverberating in his throat as she ground against it. 

“Yeah, you do,” he remarked matter-of-factly,  placing his hand on her shoulders until she began to slide down the wall. “On your knees,” he commanded,

She licked her lips, staring up as he towered over her, dark hair obscuring his face as the lamplight silhouetted him from behind. He shifted his joggers down over his slim hips until his thick member sprung forth, still scented with the lingering perfume of their earlier coupling.

In an act that she might later view as self-betrayal but nonetheless could not refrain from, she grasped him at the root and took him deep in her mouth without a word, still holding his gaze. The betrayal lay not in giving in to him but more in suddenly desiring his approval. This weak, disgusting man had practically kidnapped her for more sex when he’d already gotten what he’d wanted. Kaydel could wake up at any moment and find him here defiling her friend, the shameful pig that he was. 

She tongued at his frenulum and slicked his shaft with both hands, spreading the ample saliva from her greedy mouth. She was enjoying this far too much.

He sucked in a shaky breath, eyes widened in surprise, and she wondered if his view of her had changed at all at that moment or if he was simply startled by the sudden, intense pleasure.

Stroking her hair, he tilted his head to the side and seemed to admire her for a moment, eyes gleaming, darkening even, as she licked a stripe up the veiny underside of his shaft and pulled him in deep again. 

Her control was short-lived, however, as he jerked his hips forward until her head met the wall with a soft thud. It wasn’t painful, just shocking as if they were in a battle of wits, of dominance, and he’d just scored a point against her. 

Before she could retaliate, he held her forehead back and buried himself deeper into her throat until she gagged and choked, drool pouring from the edges of her lips and eyes watering. She tried in vain to push at his thighs until he mercifully decided to pull his dick out of her mouth, bringing a thick string of saliva with it, a thin connection between them yet.

“Absolutely perfect,” he leered. “Absolutely fucking perfect.’”

She wiped her mouth with the back of her hand and stared up at him, silently imploring for that to be the worst of it but refusing to let on that it had challenged her at all. He hadn’t bested her yet. She was strong. She could handle it. 

“Don’t stop now,” he breathed, feeding the plump and pinkened head of his cock back between her lips. She inhaled through her nose and stopped fighting it as he fucked her face in earnest. He seemed to relish her loud gagging sounds, entertained by her continued struggle. She closed her eyes and let it happen, finding that it only made her wetter the longer it went on. Her nipples strained against her bralette, fingernails scratched at the soft fabric on his thighs, and her knees and pussy began to ache in equal measure. Her clothes felt tight and hot, her boots constrictive. 

When he lifted her up, hands firm around her ribcage, she watched the room spin around her in a brief blur until she landed with a soft bounce on his tautly made bed. 

“Take this shit off,” he growled, pawing at her biker shorts by way of example before kneeling at her feet to unlace her Docs and toss them onto the floor. 

Assuming he meant all of it, and so eager for air on her hot, tight skin, she peeled off her shirt and bra before shimmying out of her biker shorts, tights, and panties all at once. His thick fingers eased them past her knees all the way off her ankles before he began to disrobe himself. His hard, spit-slicked dick still hung out of his joggers as he pulled his shirt over his head. It was then that she realized that he wasn’t just cute for an older guy.

Mr. Solo was hot as fuck . 

His muscled torso was immaculate, featuring abs she could definitely count on if her eyes could focus on a single aspect of him before greedily moving to the next. His shapely chest and creamy skin were dotted with moles and looked deceptively squishy and soft, but once she ran her hands over it, she found his body unyielding and firm. He pushed her back onto the bed and hovered over her, using his feet to slide his sweatpants over his ankles as he peppered her lips, jaw, and collarbones with fevered kisses.

His lips traced a wet path down her goosebump-addled abdomen as he spread her thighs wide with his plate-sized hands and kneeled on the floor. He nosed at the crook of her thighs and flattened his tongue over her mound before swirling it over her clit until she had to slap her hand over her own mouth to hide the involuntary shriek of pleasure.

Eyes meeting hers, he spat crudely on her pussy before dipping his massive tongue into the slick crevice, releasing her ample arousal. He was a taker but also a giver, she soon realized as he quickly unraveled her with his impressive skill. 

Mr. So-” she panted. “I’m gonna-”

He was quiet for once, concentrating on forming a vacuum with his plump pink lips around her clit, flicking his tongue rapidly until she bucked her hips, kicked out her feet and clamped her thighs together, wondering if it was possible to break such a large neck with her slightly smaller thighs. 

With a heavy grunt, he climbed atop her once more, grasped himself, and plunged into her willing hole, pinning her arms over her head with one hand as he began to roughly bounce her body against the mattress.

Her eyes widened at the unexpected intrusion, the quickness with which he’d managed to delve inside her once more. As his hand closed over her mouth, his agility allowed him to keep her wrists pinned and for his cock to keep pummeling her soaked, tender center. 

“Don’t make a fucking sound,” he panted, eyes meeting hers before drifting to where they joined. “Just take my cock like the good little slut that you are.”

Satisfied after a few thrusts that she could keep her noises to soft mewls, his broad, calloused palm drifted down her throat, over her tightened nipples, and down to her clenched abdomen. He turned his fingertips southward, pressing hard circles on her clit that ramped up her need to a near-explosive force, barely dampened by her increasing exhaustion.

Her lips ached to be kissed, but he turned his face, instead burying it in the crook of her neck, slowing his movements to a maddening, mocking pace. She burned from the inside out, exceedingly desperate for release. Their eyes locked, and then and only then she knew that there was no winning here. 

They were going down together. 

Seeming to share her realization, his brow furrowed, and he averted his gaze once more. “You belong to me now,” he rasped in her ear before teasing the lobe between his teeth, tracing the shell with the tip of his tongue. “This hot, wet, perfect little cunt is mine. ” 

She instantly shattered, stifling a sob of sheer pleasure that threatened to erupt and incriminate them both. As she clawed at the sheets and the hair at his nape simultaneously, he began fucking her pulsating cunt faster and faster. He reared up on his knees, grabbing both her wrists and pulling them forward, yanking her towards him until he was impossibly deep. His strained grunts and heavy breaths competed with the lurid wet sounds where joined. With a few short, blunt thrusts, he groaned his release, collapsing over her to press their lips together as he pumped her full of cum. 

She had forgotten to breathe, captivated as she was by the sight of his muscular body holding hers captive until there was no space between them. Crushed now beneath his weight, she struggled to inhale and exhale, staring at the ceiling, vision swimming as she felt the final pulses of his cock emptying inside her. 

He fell to the side with a heavy grunt, leaving a possessive arm draped across her ribcage, a rush of cool air against her sweat-slicked skin making her shiver. Her thighs were splayed wide and ached from the stretch, and she felt his spend start to drip from her well-used hole onto the bedspread beneath them. She didn’t dare move, couldn’t make sense of the combination of satisfaction and confusion she felt.

Mr. Solo propped himself up and traced a finger between her breasts, down her stomach, and cupped her sex. 

“You’re not afraid of me,” he said quietly, threading a finger through the mess he’d made, pressing his cum back inside. “You weren’t supposed to like it so much.”

Maybe he was more intelligent than he looked. 

“I do a lot of things I’m not supposed to,” she smiled with an effort to sound witty, simultaneously wondering if she was the pathetic one after all. 

“I bet you do,” he smiled, smearing cum across her lower abdomen, seeming to enjoy marking her with it. She was in desperate need of a shower. 

She perked up, defiant now, still riding the high of her climax. “Maybe you should be afraid of me . I could ruin your life, you know,” she said matter-of-factly. “I’m not even eighteen.” 

“You’ve already ruined me, beautiful girl,” he replied, his tone wistful as he reached up and curled a lock of hair behind her ear. “Don’t you know that by now?”

His eyes searched hers, and something warm pooled in her chest as he leaned down to kiss her, this time soft and slow, lacking the aggression and desperation from earlier when he’d pinned her against the wall. 

No .

His fingers traced her jaw, and he flattened his palm over her chest, where her heartbeat quickened beneath it. 

No.

“Get some sleep, sweet girl,” he implored, rising from the bed to pull the sheets out of their tightly packed corners. 

Don't you dare get comfortable

Heartbreak is impossible

Feelings doing somersaults¹

She crawled under the coverlet, and he joined her, curling her into his arms and kissing the top of her head.

“And call me Ben,” he murmured, his breaths growing heavier as he seemed to instantly drift into slumber.

It was just sex. 

She wasn’t supposed to feel anything. She didn’t think she could feel anything. Of course, she was deliriously tired and on the very brink of sleep herself. The sheer exhaustion was a gift.

Because for the first time that night— and the first time in a long time–she felt absolutely terrified. 

Chapter Text

Rey awoke from a fitful sleep to a heavy weight atop her body, face pressed into silky soft sheets, hair swept back over her shoulder. A firm hand wrapped beneath her abdomen, and another splayed across her lower back, pulling her hips skyward. 

The slippery, firm slide of a masterful tongue bloomed a renewed heat between her legs, and fingers massaged her slit and teased her entrance as a strong hand wrapped nearly all the way around her thigh. 

Halfway between awake and dreaming, she felt her pleasure build as she desperately grasped the sheets. 

Warm palms thrust her downward onto a strategically placed pillow, and warm, muscular columns of thigh surrounded her hips. Her soaked cunt stretched to accommodate Ben’s girth as he pressed inside, slowly but insistently, until she welcomed him without resistance. 

His strong thrusts shook her to full wakefulness as she took in gulps of air, stretching for anything solid to grasp in front of her until she found the solid wood rungs of his headboard to hold on to and steady herself. Warm and broad, his form curled over hers, caging her in as he kissed her shoulder, neck, and the corner of her lips, filling her to the brim with torturously slow strokes. 

“Good morning,” he greeted her in a low, gravelly voice, plunging in and out of her, snaking a hand around to massage her clit in practiced circles. 

Kaydel must be awake by now. The room was filled with sunlight, lawnmowers buzzed in the distance, and she could smell freshly brewed coffee. 

“Mr-uh-Ben-” she whimpered quietly. “What about-”

“She’s already gone,” he reassured her. “It’s just you and me now.”

She relaxed as much as she could, filled to the brim and crushed by his massive form as she was. Didn’t he ever get tired?

“Sorry, I couldn’t resist,” he offered, his voice increasingly shaky as he plunged into her earnestly, stealing even more of her breath. “You looked so beautiful sleeping naked in my bed. Thought maybe I’d dreamed you up.”

“I kinda have to pee,” she admitted, only slightly miffed he’d started without her. 

“Shit, sorry,” he stammered, pulling out. 

“No, it’s okay,” she responded quickly, immediately mourning the loss of fullness. “You can finish.”

“What about you, huh?” he asked mischievously, pulling her hips further up. She flattened her palms on the mattress to keep herself upright, her cheek still pressed to the bed as he closed his mouth around her well-used cunt, licking, sucking, and delving his tongue inside. 

“I- I don’t think I-”

He pressed his cock inside once more, driving it in forcefully in a way that lit up her whole being with sudden pleasure until she shrieked. 

“That’s it. Make some fucking noise. Scream for me,” he insisted, grabbing her wrists and pulling her skyward. 

“Ah-ah!” she screamed, helplessly suspended as he pummeled her from behind, stretching her shoulders and biceps, her tits shaking from the force of his thrusts. 

Just when she thought her arms might fall clean off, he pulled her flat against his chest, arching her back and closing both hands over her throat to keep her upright. “You like it when I fuck you like this instead? Is this what you need?”

She wailed an incoherent cry as he pounded into her, freeing one hand to sharply slap each of her tits and then her sensitive mound. The startling bursts of mild pain left nothing but pleasure and a desire for more in their wake.

“Beg me to come, Rey,” he growled in her ear. 

“Please!” she cried, still sleepy and increasingly overwhelmed, tired of pretending and more than needy for his guidance. 

“Please what?” he teased her, their skin slapping together loudly where they joined, his thick shaft filling her to the brim. 

“Please let me come!”

“Call me sir,” he insisted, rapidly stroking her clit now, squeezing the sides of her throat with the other strong hand.

“Please, sir, please let me come. Please.”

“Filthy girl. Already so full of my cum. But you still want more, don’t you? Fucking dripping with it all day and all night.”

“Yes- more. Make me cum. Fill me with more cum. Please, sir.”

He rolled backward onto the mattress still buried inside her, taking her with him until she was splayed helplessly on her back, limbs radiating across his body, still somehow dwarfed by his size. 

Voice rumbling in her ear, he grasped both her tits in one hand and used the flats of his fingers to bring her all the way to the edge. 

Her body seized and shook, clamping down hard on his thick length, each of her limbs flailing erratically until she coiled upwards with searing pleasure, soaking both their bodies and the sheets in the process. 

She quickly collapsed, out of breath, as he braced his feet on the mattress and fucked her through it until her teeth clacked together, and she thought she might split into a million individual atoms from the overstimulation. 

He rolled them onto their sides and moaned in loud, staccato bursts until he was utterly spent. 

She curled up into an exhausted ball as he slipped out and laid on his back, breathless behind her. 

Without warning, an overwhelming wave of emotions overcame her, and before she could do anything to stop it, she was sobbing. 

He shot upwards, reaching a hand around to tilt her face towards him, but she curled tighter into herself, feeling deeply embarrassed. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t hold back the tears or the feelings that came with them.

Blame my ex blame my ex, blame my ex.¹

“Rey, are you hurt? Did I-”

“No!” she shouted, continuing to cry despite her best efforts. “I don’t know what’s happening, I’m sorry. It’s not you, I swear.”

It wasn’t logical. It had felt so good. The strongest orgasm of her life, in fact. Maybe it was because he’d caught her off guard when she wasn’t fully awake, all her defenses laying dormant.

Maybe it’s because he’d given her more than she could ever hope to hold onto. 

Because so much gain could only mean inevitable loss.

How could he do such a thing?

Anger. That one she could manage. That, and she really did have to pee.

She shot up from the bed.

“I just need a fucking shower.” Rey glared in his general direction without meeting his eyes. “ Don’t follow me.” 

He sat on the bed, dumbfounded as far as she could tell from his silence, as she slammed the bathroom door behind her and rushed to turn the shower on.

She could wash it all away. She could leave, and that would be that. She was just really fucking tired. That’s all. It didn’t mean anything. Tears were just tears. Hormones could easily be blamed.

He’d left her some of his clothes on the vanity the night prior that he’d never given her a chance to wear. She slipped them on while her skin was still wet, knowing she’d never return here to give them back. She’d have to give them away or even burn them to avoid thinking about this night and this morning and everything it had done to rile up the dreaded emotions she’d tried so hard to extinguish.

She took a bracing breath and turned the doorknob, expecting him to still be waiting for her, but he was gone. The bed was made, and the house was quiet. 

A mixture of disappointment and relief swirled through her. At least he was giving her space.

When she bounded down the stairs expecting to make a speedy escape, her relief was short-lived.

“Rey-” he said sternly, hands on his hips like a concerned father. That was the last thing she wanted right now. For him to care.

“Thank you, Mr. Solo-er-Ben. I have to go.”

“Please don’t,” he said, more softly this time, moving to block her exit. “At least let me get you something to eat?”

She stared at the floor, eyes welling. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Why the fuck could she not stop crying? She wasn’t in love with him. This creepy, sick, pathetic old man. 

But when she finally turned her eyes towards his, that was the last thing she saw.

Deep pools of brown, a concerned expression. Soft, pink lips. Fresh stubble. 

He’d showered elsewhere, apparently, wearing a fresh black t-shirt that showed off his biceps and dark-fitted jeans. 

He wasn’t supposed to be so goddamned cute .

He wasn’t supposed to care about her.

She’d gone along with all of this because it was supposed to be gross and regrettable. She was just trying to save her own ass by doing what had to be done. Maybe even one day, it could become a fun, wild story to tell her new college friends when she learned to bury the shame of having had to do it in the first place.

But a new shame had formed in its place instead–letting herself give a shit . 

Letting herself be given a shit about.

“I just wanna know if you’re okay.”

“I’m okay, Ben,” she lied. “It’s fine.”

She wanted to kiss him again. To be held in his arms. To imagine a life where they could do this again and again. “I just think I should go.”

He reached for her elbow, and she shied away.

“Are you sure this is really it? You look so good in my clothes,” he remarked with a tentative smirk, though his eyes wavered with uncertainty. 

“I think it has to be,” she bit her lip, holding back tears.

“Come on, Rey. I know it’s wrong, and I’m pretty much a piece of shit for doing this with you, believe me. I think if it was anyone else but you, I might regret what I did, but for some odd fucking reason, I don’t. And I don’t think you do either. Am I wrong?”

He sounded like a little bit of an asshole, yet she understood him without really knowing why. Maybe she was delusional. Perhaps they both were. 

“I’m just um-” 

She tried to think fast because it was taking all of her strength not to give in and kiss him breathless. Was she really going to let some idiot man hold her fragile heart in her hands so soon? Was she really that stupid?

Cognizant of her continued hesitation, he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her close. “I promise I will never hurt you,” he insisted, and for some strange reason, she almost believed him. Not like when she believed Beau when he said that condoms were uncomfortable or that he didn’t really finger Bazine underneath the bleachers during prom. 

“I’ve heard that before,” she scoffed, rolling her eyes, testing him further. She had to. Because her strength was fading fast, the longer she inhaled his soapy scent, the more his strong arms gave her respite from standing on her own two feet. She could collapse, and he would still hold her. 

“It has to stay a secret for obvious reasons, but I will take such good care of you, Rey. I will spoil the shit out of you. I’ll make you come until you beg me to stop. You could own me completely if you want to.”

If he was pathetic, she was even more so. Because she wanted all of that to come true. To own him. To be owned. 

“What’s the catch?” she asked because if life had taught her anything, everyone was selfish as fuck, including her. She had no choice but to look out for herself. She had no reason to trust.

“Give yourself to me. Only me. Keep our secret until it’s safe for both of us. That’s all I ask.”

He made it sound so simple, only he hadn’t bothered to ask what her plans were.

“I’m going to college, Ben. I’m trying to get the fuck out of here. What you’re offering is just a horny fantasy. It’s not real life.”

“You can still do that, of course. I’m not staying in this fucking shrine to my old life, nor is Kaydel. She’s going across the country for college, and I’ll follow you wherever you go, Rey. I’ll pay for it too.”

So that’s why his bedroom was clear of everything she might have left behind, even if her picture still hung in their entryway. But did Rey want to be his one-way ticket out of his stagnant life? His only path forward? It was so much pressure.

She shook her head, backed out of his arms, and crossed her own over her chest, unsure how to respond. Sensing her unease, he softened his voice.

“It’s been a long time, Rey. Another lifetime. I’m not that person anymore. It’s not just about that if that’s what you’re worried about. I want you either way, and I’m more than willing to follow your lead.”

“I’m sorry, but I don’t believe you,” she shook her head even as he drew her closer once more, tracing soft circles on her back, making her ache to put her head back on his chest.  

“I get that, considering what you’ve been through,” he nodded. “Let’s just take one step at a time.” He pulled out his phone and opened Venmo. “Put your details in here.”

“I’m sorry, what?” she furrowed her brow at the odd request.

“Do you prefer PayPal?”

She shook her head no, still perplexed, as he handed her his phone.

“Then enter your info.”

She gave him a quizzical look and then searched and selected her username before returning his phone. He thumbed quickly at the screen, placing it back into his pocket with a sly smile.

Her phone buzzed in her backpack, and she pulled it out to check the notification. 

Venmo 

Benjamin Solo paid you $5,000.

“What the fuck ?” she muttered.

He grinned mischievously. “Do you get it now? I’m not kidding, Rey. Don’t worry about your foster parents; don’t worry about college. Just be here with me, now. We’ll figure out the rest later. I don’t know how else to convince you.”

Her mouth opened, but no sound came out. Her eyes watered as they met his, and she accepted his hand when he reached for hers.

“Now, about breakfast,” he spoke cheerfully, leading her towards the kitchen.

Chapter Text

Hours later, she was tied to a chair by her wrists and ankles and blindfolded, wearing nothing but knee socks and a white lace bra and panties.

Waiting.

Since the morning, he’d fed her, massaged her whole body, played with her hair while she watched mindless TV in his bedroom, then stepped out to buy her these ridiculous lacy things while she napped. Now that Kaydel had gone straight from practice to a party with her friends for the evening, another night alone stretched before them.

She’d texted her parents that she was going to the same party, and they just asked that she not leave the porch light on when she returned home. They seemed to have barely registered her extended absence since she’d planned to spend the previous night at Kaydel’s anyway.

It had been roughly an hour or so since he’d left her here, and the light bordering her blindfold had long since faded. She squirmed a little, eagerly anticipating his return, having had plenty of time to ponder what they’d discussed.

She liked and was repulsed by Mr. Solo in equal measure, probably because she felt like she should be. He was basically a big loser, willing to sell his house and follow a teenager to college just to keep her as his little fuck toy. 

He was a fucked up human being, and by playing along with him, she reasoned, so was she. 

Because, in all honestly, she really, really liked him.

She was probably delusional for even half-believing they might be able to have a happy ending. But for once in her life, someone was obsessed with her and wanted to keep her. 

How could she say no to that after wanting it her whole life? 

She wasn’t entirely sure about the whole glucose father thing either. It made her feel itchy and a little claustrophobic, the thought of depending on someone financially like that. She’d had enough of trying to count on adults who constantly let her down her entire life. She could never, ever get used to it, she reminded herself. She’d always have to have a Plan B. Be self-reliant.

For now, however, she’d take his stupid money. It certainly didn’t hurt to have an extra five grand in her bank account. She’d been sure to hide in the bathroom and transfer it to her bank account before he could change his mind and rescind the transaction. Now, she could push, test, and refuse to go easy on him to her heart’s desire. Even if he turned her into her parents now, that tidy sum would easily keep her afloat until the Fall.

She had nothing to lose now except a young girl’s fleeting, gossamer fantasy. 

Her thoughts were interrupted by the heavy tread of a man’s footsteps on the carpet and the quiet snick of his bedroom door closing.

“What do you really want from me, Ben?” she asked nonchalantly, though her heartbeat quickened. He’d convinced her to play this little game, let him make her feel good, give her a taste of the life he was offering. She was intrigued and figured, at the very least, she’d get some orgasms out of it, even if she ultimately changed her mind and called the whole thing off. 

“I just want you,” he said, his voice calm and clear. 

“Why not a normal girlfriend your own age? Am I, like, your mid-life crisis or something?” 

She felt his fingertips brush her collarbones, sweeping across them, light as a feather. Her whole body shivered even though he’d turned up the thermostat to compensate for her near nudity.

“Probably,” he huffed a soft laugh. “Make fun of me all you want. I know I’m a living, breathing cliche.” 

“Have you been with anyone else since she died?” She squirmed. If she was going through with this, she wanted to know everything about him. Crack him open and look at his gooey insides. Decide if his fucked up puzzle pieces matched hers.

“Someone’s had a lot of time to think of the hard-hitting questions,” He mused, though he didn’t seem upset or the least bit shaken by her candor. “But if you must know, a few.”

“Young like me?” 

She thought for a moment that she might be pushing a little too hard, but she had to know he could take it. She would almost certainly have worse things to say to him the longer this went on, the more she feared losing what little she had gained because that’s just how life was.

“No, you’re–”

“Special?” she asked sarcastically. 

“I underestimated you. Let's just say that. But yes, Rey, you’re very special.”

“So you’re not into the whole Lolita thing then? New to the whole old pervy dude lifestyle?” She licked her lips.

“I’m into the whole Rey thing,” he laughed softly. “Just you. You’re not like anyone I’ve ever met. It’s why I begged you to stay.”

“What if I don’t?”

“I’ll try harder to convince you,” he insisted, his palms pressing down on her spread knees, the warmth of his body occupying the space between them as he kneeled before her. 

She couldn’t help but giggle nervously, imagining how far he might go to convince her. How he already had gone so far as to gift her a small fortune, however inconsequential it might be to him. She could really twist him around her little finger for as long as it amused her, and he’d probably enjoy it. 

But her borderline rude questions were merely an attempt to tamp down the terror she’d felt since the night prior. She didn’t want to use him or torture him at all. She needed him just as much as he seemed to need her, if not more, and she hated it. 

The only consolation was that they were both so seemingly unloveable otherwise. The fact that they’d found each other was likely nothing short of a goddamn miracle.

“What if we get caught? What if you get bored of me, Mr. Solo? What if it’s not fun anymore?”

What if I love you more than you love me? What if I ruin it? What if you ruin me?

He squeezed just above her knees and leaned forward to press his forehead against her sternum. She propped her chin atop the crown of his head, as close to a cuddle as she could muster, completely restrained as she was.

His hair smelled delicious, soft, and downy against her chin. She breathed him in and felt lightheaded for a moment. It was like the first drag of a cigarette clapping against the back of her delicate throat, buzzing her brain, reminding her she was solid and alive, even if it might eventually kill her.  

When he lifted his head, he breathed in deeply. “All I know, Rey, is that whatever happens next, it will have been worth it.”

He gently kissed her cheek, then her nose, and finally her forehead. “I’ve been sleepwalking through life for so long. When Tallie died, I shut this part of myself down, and I’ve just been going through the motions ever since.” He smoothed his hands lightly over her hair and down both of her shoulders. It felt too good.

“I didn’t see you coming at all. You scared the shit out of me, so I tried to scare you back. I would have stopped immediately if you fought it even for a second. I would have left you alone, put you on my living room couch, and never looked at you again. But you surprised the fuck out of me.” His fingers traced between her breasts and down to her abdomen, stopping just short of her lacy waistband, gently pulling it away from her skin before letting it snap back into place. So here I am, begging you to be mine because I can’t imagine the alternative.” 

He was just like she was. Closed off and taken entirely by surprise. His confession encouraged her honesty. She bristled at her silky tethers, her arousal growing at the same pace as their increasing emotional intimacy.

“I thought you were the kinda creep that got off on me being scared. I couldn't decide if I wanted to give you the satisfaction or not. But I didn’t see you coming either, I guess. And I don’t think I’m into the whole pervy old man thing either. Just the whole Mr. Ben Solo thing.”

He chuckled. “Maybe I did like scaring you, just a little. But as it turns out, I liked that you wanted it even more. And look at me now. I’m at your mercy, precious girl.” His voice was so soft, so painfully honest.

A tear suddenly escaped her eye, immediately absorbed by the blindfold. But he could probably still see the pink on her nose and cheeks, the quiver of her lower lip. 

“You’re not the one tied to a chair,” she laughed in a vain attempt to prevent herself from fully crying. She’d already allowed herself to feel more emotions in the last twenty-four hours than she had in a month. 

Baby steps.

He reached behind her to where the soft, silken rope bound her wrists and grabbed the loose end of the artfully fastened knot. “Do you want to go?” he asked. “Just say the word, and you’re free.”

Being given the option only solidified her resolve. She shook her head no without hesitation. “I want to stay. I want to see what happens next. If it’s worth it.”

“Good.” She heard the smile in his voice, even though she couldn’t see it. 

Her own lips formed a smile in return. 

First time in her life, she felt truly seen. And for the first time in a very long time, she let herself feel hope.

Chapter Text

“So–” she started coyly, tugging at her restraints ever so slightly. “What are you gonna do to me, Mr. Solo?” 

“You can call me Ben, you know,” he responded with a quiet, amused chuckle. Her thighs stretched around his hips as he remained kneeling between her spread-apart knees and bound ankles. Her fingers fiddled with a loose end of the silky rope looped around her wrists. She could escape at any time, she gathered.

If she wanted to.

“But I like it when you’re a creepy, dirty old man,” she smirked, wondering when he’d finally lose it, once more become the unhinged lover she’d come to know in the last twenty-four hours before he’d made her feel all sorts of unwelcome emotions. 

“Is that so?” Rough fingers suddenly dragged the lacy cups of her bra down, further exposing her helpless body to his gaze. 

“Yes, sir,” she replied, licking her lips as every molecule of her body yearned for his touch. “I can even pretend to be afraid of you if you want,” she offered, knowing that it was probably still his kink, even if he’d still be grateful to fuck her regardless. 

She liked having something to offer, even if she would inevitably disappoint him, just like she seemed to do with everyone else sooner or later.

“You wanna pretend, huh? Is that what my little slut wants?”

Her pussy clenched in response to the familiar degradation. It struck a chord in the instrument of her arousal that she’d never known existed until she’d met him. Beau had just treated her like shit in a rather non -sexy way.

“Mmhmm,” she whimpered, shifting in her seat, feeling her neglected nipples tighten in anticipation.

“Okay then, what’s your safe word?”

“Uh, safe word?”

She wondered what kind of Mr. Rogers-esque, fatherly nonsense this was. 

“It’s the word you say when you want me to be Ben again instead of sir or Mr. Solo . In case we get carried away. Mostly me, I’m sure.” She could hear the smug grin in his voice. 

She pondered briefly what she could say to stop…what was about to happen between them, and came up blank. Because she wasn’t sure she wanted it to stop. Ever. Her palms began to feel slightly damp at the unwelcome thought.

I’m only in it for the sex.1

He was stroking her thighs now with the tips of his fingers, light enough to tease above the tight upper bands of her knee socks. Her toes curled. 

“Basically,” he continued, “The word ‘no’ might not be enough,” he continued. “So it has to be something you wouldn’t normally say in the heat of the moment.”

“Oh,, I think I get it. Avocado maybe? They’re so bougie, and I can’t afford them, so I never talk about them anyway.”

“Sounds like a good choice. And you know I can get you avocados whenever you want. I also make a mean avocado toast,” he offered gently. “I am technically a millennial-“

Sexy old dork.

“I don’t want toast, I want you,” she interrupted him, her whole body ablaze with unmet need. 

Could she safeword out of being blueballed? (Blue clitted?) 

“I can tell,” he teased, and she felt the dry rasp of his calloused knuckle brush across one of her nipples, making her buck against her restraints and let out a pathetic “ Ah!”  

“Somebody’s needy, even though all I’ve done is fuck you. Such a greedy little whore, aren’t we?”

The other nipple got a taste of not enough, and she clamped her lips tight, refusing to give him the satisfaction of an answer .

She heard the rustle of his clothes as he stood, the soft brush of his feet against the carpet as he walked around the chair to stand behind her. Both his palms just barely smoothed across the tender buds of each nipple now, slow orbits and feather-light pressure that built excruciatingly slowly. 

“Have you ever been touched like this, or have you been too busy sucking some loser’s cock under the bleachers at football games?”

Clearly, he’d thought about her in this and other stereotypical underage porn scenarios. 

Pervert. 

“N-no” she stammered. “ Never,” she whispered as the circles ceased, and he gently grasped each of her breasts, dwarfing them in his fists and squeezing.

Hot, sex-god Pervert.

As he released his grip, he resumed the soft torture once more, this time integrating the use of his fingers, trapping each nub between the lengths of his thumb and forefinger, drawing them out until it nearly hurt before gently massaging them between his fingertips.

She never knew nipples could be made to feel this way–like she could come from this alone. When Beau had attempted the same, it felt like he was trying to twirl an evil mustache or tune an old-timey radio. 

“How long were you fucking him?” A quick, sharp tap to her breast elicited a guttural sound from her throat. She could barely touch her knees together, but her thighs still attempted to clap shut in response.

“Three years-” she replied, nearly breathless, finding it increasingly harder to speak. 

Another slap, this time her other breast. She craved another, against all reason. Flames licked up her abdomen, threatening to consume her. But her curiosity prevented her from stopping it at all by shouting Avocado! At the top of her lungs. His questions didn’t even bother her, mostly just the taunting stimulation. After all, she’d conducted a similar interrogation.  

“What positions?”

Double-slap.

“Fuck!” she cried out. “I don’t know? The normal one?”

He laughed darkly, starting over with those evil, barely-there touches of his palms again.

“Which position is your favorite ?”

Rey strained to remember a single instance of sex with her ex. They were all the same, really. Beau hovering, grunting, caring only about himself, her sometimes feeling good for a moment, then giving up on her own orgasm when he came too soon for her to finish as well. The pleasure eventually came from pleasing him, from being useful. It was never about her and never would be. She’d learned to stop trying.

Don’t fucking cry. 

She had to remind herself of this as her nose began to tingle, and her eyes threatened to release traitor tears. This wasn’t about Beau anymore. They had never belonged to each other, really. She’d been lonely and in need of a friend, and Beau was just there for her and continued to be for a long time, or so she thought, until she’d discovered his extracurricular activities. Then, in an instant, he just–wasn’t. 

She wasn’t lonely when Ben found her, not in the traditional sense, given she was face down in his daughter’s pussy at the time. But at this moment, as he touched and teased her to the brink of losing her mind, she imagined that losing Ben could bring the type of loneliness one could hardly imagine. Losing Ben might be unbearable .

She willed her brain to shut the fuck up.

Ben threaded and pinched once more. It felt achingly good even though her cunt throbbed with envy in response. She remembered his question then and realized that she and Beau had only ever done the one position after all. 

Maybe Beau hadn’t been the only one not trying. She could have said something, could have asked for more, but she knew it wouldn’t be worth it. Knew deep down that he found her as undeserving as she found herself. 

“I actually didn’t like fucking him all that much,” she finally admitted, both to Ben and to herself. It brought an unforeseen relief to say it out loud. Maybe there was some additional value to this ill-advised encounter aside from, well, five thousand dollars and getting to come more than she ever had in her life.

“Did he ever make you come?”

“No!” she responded emphatically. “ Never .”

More relief washed through her. Beau straight-up sucked and always had. Ben had quite efficiently brought Beau’s inferiority into stark relief. If only she’d befriended Kaydel sooner, she might have shaved some time off of her and Beau’s obviously doomed relationship.

She’d let Beau treat her like shit, she realized then. Because it was normal and familiar to her. Dating him was some complex form of self-harm. She’d then just use their breakup as an excuse to debase herself even further. Using and letting herself be used. 

This moment probably wasn’t any different than what she’d been doing the past month with her peers. Very few of them had made her come, either. But surely it must be even worse to let a man twice her age use her as fuck toy for an entire weekend, throwing unsustainable amounts of money at her and promising her the world? At least with Beau and her noncommittal classmates, she could predict how she’d feel when it was over – empty, bored, craving more to fill the void. And she had been well on her way to feeling almost nothing at all until this man came along and ruined everything.

Another squeeze, rougher this time, drawing out a short growl from Ben’s throat. 

“Do you think you deserve to come?”

The question surprised her far more than the others, and it was getting harder to think straight with his hands overwhelming her this way, long fingers starting to stretch down her torso towards her needy cunt. 

What was he even getting at? Of course, she deserved to come. She knew that on an intellectual, Feminism 101 level. But also, of course, she hadn’t done anything about it until now. Perhaps by being here, at Mr. Solo’s mercy, she finally was. 

In spite of revelation, however, her faith in him continued to waver. Because why would anyone keep giving and giving at the rate that Ben was? She just got to come all the time now, more than once ? Be taken care of by a devoted capable man? She’d actually get to be happy? In what world would she get everything she ever wanted from a man ?

Sounded fake.

“I-I don’t know.”

Two slaps, this time to the tops of her thighs.

“You’re afraid,” he breathed in her ears, seemingly pleased by this realization. “Tell me why.” His breath was hot against her neck, and her whole body shuddered. Still blindfolded, her every sense was heightened. 

“I’m afraid–”

That's why I won't get vulnerable

Don’t you dare get comfortable2

“Of?” he wrapped his fingers nearly all the way around each of her thighs and tightened his grip. His nose nuzzled into her scalp, and she could hear him inhale deeply as if taking in her scent. 

With Ben, she felt too much , and it was utterly exhausting. And now she didn’t know where this treacherous path was going to lead her, only that she couldn’t help but follow him down it. So yes, perhaps she was nearing her rock bottom, and the only abyss called to her more loudly with each passing moment.

“I don’t know what’s going to happen,” she admitted, unable to avoid the layered meaning behind her statement. She wondered if he understood just how fearful she truly was or if he would simply accept it as part of their aforementioned roleplay. Maybe she could bury her mountains of feelings beneath it if she tried hard enough. Maybe she could trick both of them, at least for a little while. 

“Are-are you going to hurt me,” she said in a wavering voice. 

His hands slid up her thighs towards the creases. “Just be a good little whore and take whatever I give you,” he instructed, his breath quickening.

“Yes sir. Please don’t hurt me, sir,” she whimpered, unable to avoid the reality that she truly meant it beyond the imaginary scene they were now constructing together. Because more than ever, he had the power to absolutely destroy her–she was sure of it. She’d never wanted anything more in her life. Something was gonna go wrong. Something was gonna-

“Give this little pussy over to me, and there won’t be a problem, hmm?” He slid his hand past the lacy band of her minuscule panties and kissed her bare neck and shoulder just as his finger parted her slit to release an embarrassing amount of slick. 

She mewled, a humiliating sound, as her wanton need took over, and she decided to simply surrender to whatever he had in store for her. She was both terrified and resigned. Because she couldn’t imagine doing anything else but heeding the sound of his voice and waiting eagerly for him to touch her again, no matter the cost. 

Whatever happens next, it will have been worth it.

“Mmm,” he continued, practically purring in her ear. “Looks like you already have. Good girl.”

“But sir, I’m a… a born-again virgin!” she whined her imaginary headcanon about herself. In a way, she was new to this kind of sexual experience, one where her efforts were actually reciprocated. Maybe it was silly, and she was bad at this role-play stuff. But the alternative was cutting open her own chest and offering him her still-beating heart to him instead. “I promised myself I’d never have sex again until I was in love–or uh, til I got married,” she stumbled on her words.

He held back a laugh as he plunged a sturdy finger inside of her. “Not for long, sweetheart,” he threatened. “I’m gonna fuck the shit out of you.” 

In. Out. 

Each of his fingers rivaled two to three of her own, and his practiced, assured movements made her cant her hips desperately in search of more . 

“I’m gonna ruin this sweet, little cunt and pump it full of my cum, and there’s nothing you can do about it.”

Oh, Ben, but you already have. You’ve ruined all of me.

She threw herself wholeheartedly into her role. It was her only escape now.

“Oh no,” she cried, nearly convincing herself if not for the slight tinge of sarcasm that was one of her hallmark personality traits. “Can’t I just, I don’t know, give you a blow job, sir?”

“You’re going to give me everything ,” he insisted gruffly as she heard the downward slide of his zipper, then the shuffle of fabric and soft skin. “Got me so fucking hard,” he added as he continued fucking her with one, then two of his wide fingers, thumb pressing against her clit with heated urgency. 

“I-” 

Her speech was interrupted by the soft, velvety head of his cock pressing past her lips. She wished she could see how he must be contorting his giant body to keep fingering her while also keeping his dick in her mouth.  

Regardless of the blindfold still wrapped around her eyes, she closed them and lost herself to the rhythm of him entering her in two places, feeling every touchpoint of the thin ropes on her wrists and ankles, the way her tailbone started to ache from squirming against the hardwood of the chair that he’d swiped from their clunky, traditional oak dining room set. 

The lack of control was almost relaxing, and being unable to blurt out her true feelings was truly a gift, even though her jaw ached from the strain of accommodating his girth. His hand encompassed most of her head as he thrust his hips against her face, grunting and groaning his enjoyment as she neared her own climax. 

“You like this, don’t you? Being tied up, letting me use your perfect wet, needy holes?”

“Mmph,” she groaned, socked toes curling against the carpet, knees aching from being stuck in one position, straining against their tethers as her body coiled in anticipation of her sure-to-be explosive climax.

She gagged and took ragged breaths through her nostrils as he hit the back of her throat repeatedly. Just when she thought she couldn’t take anymore, hoping he could hear “avocado” through her tightly-filled mouth, he pulled out and kneeled between her legs once more.

The deep, shaky inhale she took was cut short by a gasp as his hands wrapped around her ass and yanked it forward to the edge of the seat. As the wood of the chairback dug into her upper spine, she was soon transported from her mild discomfort by a wet tongue on the lacy gusset of her already-drenched panties.

Ben ripped them to the side, exposing her fully now, and covered her sex fully with his open mouth, their combined, silky wet heat intermingling in an otherworldly burst of pleasure. Her thighs began to shake uncontrollably from both exhaustion and her impending, inevitable release. 

“You’re gonna come in my fucking mouth, and then I’m gonna destroy this fucking pussy,” he informed her between licks, sucks, and sturdy fingertips pressed firmly against her front wall. He held the pressure fast against that infuriatingly pleasurable spot as he sucked mercilessly on her clit. Soon she was molten, wailing incoherently, still helplessly spread out, and restrained all the while. 

“Come, Rey. Fucking come ! Even dirty little sluts like you deserve to come,” he barked, spitting on her pussy before resuming his mind-altering tongue movements. It was all she needed to send her past the point of no return, to her great relief, as her body had reached its absolute limit. She squirmed, shuddered, and shook as he drew his tongue through her folds in long, languorous licks, gently fucking her with the same two fingers, drawing out the liquid bliss of her orgasm even further.

“Oh fuck. Oh, fuck. I need to be inside you, right fucking now,” he groaned, whisking apart each knot that had held her tightly for so long, one by one. Before she could register her newfound freedom, he was lifting her in his arms and helping her wrap her weak arms and legs around his big, solid body.

Still blindfolded, she was acutely aware of the sound of his pants falling to the floor, the light tinkle of the metal hardware in the far distance, his heaving breaths, the sweat where their skin pressed together, the blunt intrusion as he pressed inside her.

Soon, she was flying, strong hands braced around her waist, moving her up and down,  bouncing her on his cock like she was as light as the air wafting over her heated skin.

He couldn’t even wait to get her on the bed. She surprised both of them by giggling. All these intense emotions and sensations, and all she could do was giggle .

“What’s so fucking funny, huh? You realize how much you love cock? Not so sweet and innocent, are you?” 

She felt him twirl them both around and then roughly sit in the chair. Her chin hit his shoulder, and her body struggled to adjust to the new position. He guided her legs, and she let her feet fall towards the floor, her toes barely brushing the carpet. He was still buried deep inside her, moving her hips back and forth for her now. It was delicious . 

He lifted her and dropped her, spearing her repeatedly, murmuring praise and groaning with pleasure. It would be over soon, and then she’d have to deal with what happened next. Her fear had just started to build, and then, to her complete and total shock, he whipped her blindfold off. 

Sheer terror was the first thing she felt when the first thing she saw was his soft brown eyes boring into hers. 

She wasn’t sure what she’d expected to see, after all, given their relative positions, but she immediately averted her eyes and tilted her hips in an invitation to resume the act and avoid continued eye contact.

He knew. He knew all of it, and she hadn’t had to say a word: every realization she’d come to since he’d started teasing and torturing her needy body, drawing every cell of her body towards his light like a flower seeks the sun. She could just tell by the look on his face and had no desire to let him see anything more.

“Rey,” he spoke just above a whisper as he began to slowly push and pull her hips so he just barely slid in and out of her. “Please look at me.” His voice sounded near to cracking, like he’d forgotten the act, too, for a moment. “Please.”

No.

She crimped her eyes shut and shook her head no, longing for the blindfold to return. 

“Rey,” he whispered for real this time, kissing her forehead and cheeks, pulling her closer, wrapping both arms around her tightly, lifting her up and down as he continued to fuck her. 

Call me a whore. Call me worthless. Tell me I’m just a hole. Anything but–

“Baby,” he murmured against her temple. “Fuck, Rey. It’s okay. I’ve got you.”

He was still wearing his black T-shirt. She pressed her forehead to the soft cotton over his collarbones and focused on the lewd sounds their bodies made, their combined musk, the sweat on their skin. The seediness of a middle-aged man fucking a teenage girl. 

Anything else would be far too much.

“Such a good girl. Such a good fucking girl,” he repeated like a mantra, his voice growing thinner and reedier as he made something akin to love to her now.

Every stroke, every soaked slide of him inside of her, felt even better than the last, prolonging the aftershocks. It made her feel needy and hungry yet again, even though she was truly and completely spent. 

Like there would never be enough of them . 

“So good for me. So good.”

“Yes sir,” she whimpered, her voice weak and defeated as he increased the pace, picking her up and dropping her down with ease, hitting all the perfect spots inside of her until she shuddered out a slow, rolling wave of a second, gentler climax that took him right along with her.

“Ah-fuck. Fuck, fuck fuck. Take my cum, good girl. Good, good girl. Ahhhh fuck.”

She fell limp against him, feeling completely wrung out. 

When he’d regained his breath, he reached for her chin and forced her to raise it and look at him. 

“Rey, what’s wrong? Are you okay?”

No, no, no. Anything but that.

“Just tell me. Whatever it is, it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

NO!

Her lip trembled as his eyes searched hers, and he held her chin fast. He wasn’t letting her off easy, and it suddenly became far too much to bear.

“Rey?”

“Avocado!” she barely managed to blurt out before she burst into sobs. 

Without even breaking their connection, Ben lifted her up and brought them both to lay on the bed, pulling her tight against his chest as he slipped out. His chin rested atop her head, and she had no choice but to succumb to her overwhelm, letting herself ugly cry against his chest. 

There was no pretending. She was cracked open, oozing. Her ripped-out heart was completely in his hands. 

“Shh,” he comforted her, stroking her hair and back, pulling her closer.

She’d spent so long acquiescing herself to neglect that all of this attention and care felt abnormal, wrong, and, worst of all, excruciatingly painful. Because if she could have it, there would come a time when she could lose it. She grieved for what she’d never had before and for what she would inevitably fail to keep. 

She didn’t know what was worse, preventing herself from having it at all as she did with Beau and the others or letting herself have it with Ben for a short while, only to leave it on the emotional equivalent of a city bus, eternally cursing herself for her carelessness. 

Ben held her silently, save for some more quiet shh’s, until she was out of tears, and her head was empty of all thought. There was only a high-pitched ringing in her ears and a desire to cease crying because she could no longer breathe properly through her nose, and her head was starting to ache.

“Stay here,” He insisted, kissing the top of her head softly before extricating himself from beneath her worn-out body. He covered her carefully with a throw blanket, and shortly after, light poured in from the adjacent bathroom. She then heard the faucet squeak and the thundering sound of water running into a tub that he probably never used. 

Closing her eyes against what was sure to be more of the ephemeral fantasy life she was painstakingly constructing in her mind despite her best intentions, she let herself be carried into the bathroom, let him remove her flimsy lingerie and peel down her knee socks, helping her lift up her feet one by one as he pulled them off completely. 

Opening her swollen eyelids once more, she took him in, crouched before her, his jeans returned to rights, his hair mussed and still a little damp with sweat.

“Let’s get you in the tub. Okay, sweetheart?”

Rey nodded and let herself be guided into the warm water. Ben kneeled beside the tub to pour steaming water over her scalp before massaging it gently with shampoo.

She was done crying. No matter what happened, no matter how much it hurt, she had no choice but to let herself have it, even just for this short time. She would let him do this one last nice thing for her, and then she would allow it to be over. 

She had reached the bottom and landed softly in his arms. If she never saw him again or felt his light or his warmth, at least she knew there was something out there better than what she’d previously accepted. She’d watch the bus drive away with a piece her heart in it and make her peace with its loss. That was the hope that bloomed in her chest now, against all odds.

She felt scooped out but not hollow. What ached inside of her was perhaps not a void but a space she might learn how to fill someday. There would be no more Beaus, no more sex sprees. Even if she would never get to have Ben or anyone like him ever again, at least she had found herself. 

Ben was right. It hurt like fucking hell. 

But it had been worth it.  

Chapter Text

Ben had been gentle with her after she’d broken down, babying her, doting on her.

She’d let him.

Their conversation had stayed focused on the logistics of getting her ready for bed and tucking her in like a small child needing constant direction. 

And in a way, Rey did feel like a little girl in these moments of pure dependency. It was silly, but letting her inner child have a father figure for a while felt nice. 

For a brief, shining moment, she let herself forget this was not real life and would never last. Let it melt like cotton candy on her tongue.

When the blankets were tucked snugly around her body, and Ben finally left her alone to take a shower, her eyes popped open, and she felt the cold fog of anxiety surround her heart once more. The cotton candy was gone, the sticky, frail paper cone lay smashed in the dirt, and the carnival was leaving town. 

After a few deep breaths, even as she tried to continue enjoying his big, cozy bed with its infinite thread counts, the frantic winged insect of her fear would not stop battering against the inside of her ribcage. She’d already accepted the inevitable outcome. There was no sense in prolonging it.

Rey threw back the covers and sat up, feeling slightly disoriented in the dim room, willing her drooping lids to perk up and help her find her things so she could cut and run. After a short while, her eyes landed on her backpack on a deep leather chair in the corner, along with her neatly folded clothes and shoes. Ben had given her another shirt to sleep in, this time an oversized black thermal shirt with long sleeves and a tiny hole in the torso that she’d thumbed at distractedly while she waited for him to put toothpaste on her brush for her earlier.

She lifted the neckline to her nose with both hands and inhaled deeply, his musk only slightly overpowered by the scent of detergent. She decided she’d keep it. 

After she’d donned her biker shorts, crammed her shirt, likely destroyed panties, and torn fishnets into her bag, she slipped on her Docs without lacing them and tiptoed carefully towards the door. Pausing with her hand wrapped around the door handle, she could hear the telltale squeak of the faucet being turned off and the slide of Ben’s shower curtain over the rod. 

Her heartbeat quickened, and she resolved to disappear before he could stop her. 

It wasn’t til she was halfway down the block in the humid evening air that her heels started to burn, and she knelt down to tie up her boots. Her hair was nearly dry, and a thin veneer of sweat had begun to form on her skin. She scrunched up Ben’s oversized sleeves to her elbows, and the little hole in the front of the shirt provided a form of air conditioning as she started to walk at a brisk pace again.

It took her thirty minutes to get home, and she’d arrived at a perfectly convincing time to walk in the door as if she was returning from a party. Braless. In a man’s shirt. Swollen-faced from crying and probably looking like she’d been through the wringer.

Luckily for her, her parents had already gone upstairs to get ready for bed. As she attempted her stealthy trek down the hall to her own bedroom, she could faintly hear them talking about the weather, the clink of their toothbrushes landing in the ceramic holder, the sliding of closet doors, and the squeak of the mattress through their open bedroom door. 

Lest they catch her in her disheveled state, she quickened her steps and practically jumped into her room, careful not to slam her door shut, though she wanted to. It would feel good to shut out the entire world now and all of the unrealistic, fantastical, and, therefore, painful promises it had just made to her.

After dropping her bag by the door, Rey plopped on her bed and untied her boots, letting them fall to the floor with a loud thump . Her parents would hear it and know she was home. They wouldn’t care to come to check on her and ask how her party was, if she was doing okay, or if she’d fallen in love or made a new friend. Tomorrow morning, they’d ask her if she’d kept out of trouble and remind her to take out the garbage and finish the laundry while scrolling their phones or making themselves a nice breakfast that didn’t include her.

She stood and stripped her shorts off and shot them into her open hamper like a basketball before sauntering over to her dresser to find the most comfortable, cottony granny panties she owned. Ones that could never bring a grown man to his knees or subject her to more things that would never last.

Plus, she’d never been fucked so much in her life. The soft fabric felt so calming and soothing on her tender skin. But she kept Ben’s shirt on, even though it made her annoyed at herself. She could say she found it in the Lost and Found at school if anyone asked. But likely, no one would care. 

He didn’t even have her phone number. This was all she would have to remember him by. 

Rey crawled into bed and pulled up her unmade covers, which had significantly fewer threads than Ben’s, clapped off her lights, and snuggled in to contemplate the absurdity of her life. 

Her parents’ stirring ceased, and the familiar rhythm of her home, its smells, and its sounds was a strange comfort. Her chest expanded and contracted with each deep breath she took, and she found it increasingly easier to pace and organize her thoughts without Ben surrounding her almost constantly, dangling an impossible life in front of her at every moment until her brain overflowed and shut down from the strain.

She looked around the darkened space at the silhouettes of her secondhand furniture, her tattered posters, her piles of books, and broken things she intended to fix when she eventually got around to it. Her curtains were still pink and ruffled with little princess crowns embroidered on the fabric. This was the messy, unremarkable room of a seventeen-year-old girl. 

She’d started the weekend as a broken-hearted teenager hell-bent on torching her shitty ex out of her memory through meaningless sex. Then, overnight, she had become a highly coveted sex object who’d had a twenty-four-hour affair with a middle-aged man who was now promising her the world. 

She suddenly felt too big for this little girl’s room, like Alice, after taking an innocent bite out of the little cake. At any moment, she imagined that each of her limbs might bust out of the windows until she wore her house as if it were a costume.

A tempting future with Ben dangled in front of her like the little bottle marked ‘DRINK ME.’ As if trusting him and taking his hand down this strange yet wonderful path would make her exactly the right size again. Everything would fall into place as they continued this magical journey together.

Ha, ha. 

On paper, it was ludicrous, and she‘d told him as such. Was he really going to follow her to college, shower her with money and orgasms in perpetuity? Even more importantly, would he really risk his reputation, dignity, and his daughter’s respect just to be with her? 

In every limited television series or movie just like this, she would end up pregnant, heartbroken, or dead, and he would ultimately end up leaving her, arrested, or dead. She hated those stories because she always secretly wanted things to work out for the tragic couple, even though what they were doing was technically wrong. Those people had seemed so happy before it all came crashing down. Real life was depressing enough; she should know that more than anyone.

All that aside, Ben turned out to be nothing like he was supposed to be written in the script. A pathetic loser of a man. A disgusting predator. A creep. A monster–

Sure, she reckoned that he wasn’t exactly healthy in the Instagram psychology sense. He was emotionally immature and reckless, and his behavior was deeply inappropriate. But deep down, she knew he wasn’t a horrible person and would never do anything to hurt her, at least not on purpose. His actions spoke louder than her stereotypical judgments of him.  

It would be much better, however, if he truly was all those nasty things. Then Rey’s heart wouldn’t feel like a vase with a million cracks in it, waiting for one more tap to shatter completely. 

No, Ben was more complex than that, which made it so hard. The unpredictability of it all. Perhaps he meant well, but he could get sick of her.  Or become deeply ashamed of himself and what they’d done. And then he’d be gone anyway.

And yet, she still wanted him—so much, and she hated it. She had to continually convince herself not to run all the way back to him and beg his forgiveness for disappearing. 

“Just tell me. Whatever it is, it’s okay. I’m not going anywhere.”

The memory of his words made her draw in a sharp breath like she’d stuck her finger on a pin. It made her chest feel tight, and her limbs flooded with discomfort like something terrible was about to happen.

If only she could sleep, she wouldn’t have to lay in her bed, gripping her sheets with whitened knuckles, wondering if he would even notice that she was gone. Perhaps he was disappointed that his sex toy had left, but maybe he just shrugged and immediately moved on.  

It would be fine because then she’d know she’d made the right decision, to enjoy it for a moment and then let it die like a sparkler in her hand. The burning burst of light and pain could fade in her palm, leaving behind a pleasant memory. At least now, she believed it could happen again someday, with the right person. When she was ready.

Twin tears slipped out of the corners of her eyes and ran down her cheeks, warm then cold as they fell into her hair, where it rested on her pillow. She squeezed her eyes shut, willing them and the inevitable stuffy nose and headache away. No more tears. This was how it needed to be. She’d lost plenty of things. It was time she got used to it.

After a few breaths, she began to drift off to sleep, her body softening and feeling heavy against her mattress. That is until her phone buzzed loudly on her nightstand. She reached clumsily for it, nearly knocking it to the floor before she trapped it between her weak fingers. The screen lit up, and she scrunched her face as her eyes adjusted to the light, and finally, her eyes focused enough to read the notification.

Benjamin Solo paid you $100

“Ah shit,” she muttered, swiping the screen with her thumb to open the app. 

The memo read, “Are you okay? Sorry, I don’t have your number.”

She’d missed the earlier couple of transactions of the same amount while her phone had been charging. 

She nearly groaned in relief when she confirmed that the memos were private, which she only realized might be an issue as she reread his message. Kaydel might have seen it, for God’s sake. What would she say? That he gave her a private scholarship for having a tight little pussy? 

Despite all of her heavy emotions, she giggled to herself. She must be delirious.

It was close to one in the morning now, and she contemplated letting him sleep on it. The tiniest part of her stupid little heart actually felt gleeful that he hadn’t just accepted her loss. That he still wanted her. That his words might actually have meant something.

The biggest part thought herself the hugest fucking idiot in the world. And yet she gave him her number anyway. 

Ben: You left. I just wanted to make sure you were safe. 

Rey: I’m fine. Thank you. You don’t have to give me any more money or check on me either. It’s okay. 

She expected some kind of fatherly message in return, an agreement and a goodbye, or maybe even something sexual. But what she didn’t expect was for her phone to start ringing, and she nearly dropped it on her own face.

Her heart pounded as she contemplated not answering it. Letting that be her answer. But her thumb decided for her. She held it to her ear, unsure what to say.

“Rey, I meant what I said. About everything. I understand if you need time. But I’m not just going to let you walk away.”

“That’s nice to hear, Ben,” she said softly, already wanting to cry. Maybe she’d made a mistake indulging him past the car sex. Maybe she’d dragged him too far, and he was going out of his mind pursuing her like this. 

She didn’t know what was worse, all the power he clearly had over her or all the power she might have over him. Both were equally terrifying.

As if reading her mind, he continued. “I knew you weren’t really role-playing earlier. I know you’re scared, and I don’t blame you. You’ve been through a lot in your life, I’m sure. I wouldn’t expect you to trust me so quickly. But I’m happy to keep proving it to you, Rey. Whatever it takes.”

She wanted to believe him. But she couldn’t.  

“Listen, it was really good, and I liked it a lot, and you’ve been nothing but good to me, but I don’t think —”

“I promise you I am not going anywhere. This is real for me. And I know it’s real for you too. People don’t just have the experience you and I just had. They don’t go this deep this fast. And I know it’s a little corny, and you probably think I’m a creepy, sad man who’s lost his mind, but what we have is special . I just know it. Please tell me you feel it, too.”

“Ben–” she whispered, her voice cracking.

“Hey, don’t cry. I know it’s been really intense, so that’s all I’m gonna say for tonight. I’ll give you some space, okay?”

She nodded, realizing he couldn’t see her. Space sounded nice. Space to breathe. Space to consider giving up the best thing she’d ever known because losing it now might be a little easier than losing it later. Like dropping just a spoonful of delicious cake batter instead of the whole damn bowl.

“Let me take you to lunch on Wednesday. We can go to the mall on the other side of Coruscant so we don’t see anyone we know, and if we do, we can just make it like we ran into each other randomly. Does that seem like something you can do? For me?”

Rey contemplated it earnestly. She understood that secrecy was required, and it was a good enough plan. A large public place that she could easily escape on public transportation. They wouldn’t be able to touch each other and instantly forget their own minds. They could have a real conversation and get some nice closure before they parted ways. Maybe they could even get boba. 

“Okay,” was all she could say.

“Good. I’ll meet you there at noon. Sorry to keep you awake. Get some sleep, sweetheart. I’m so glad you picked up.”

“Goodnight,” she rasped, her throat feeling tight. Her heartbeat had slowed, and she felt more drained than ever but also somehow peaceful. 

“Goodnight, Rey.”

He did the hard job of hanging up first, and she let her phone fall on the wooden surface of her nightstand with a quiet thud. 

It wasn’t long before she let the heavy wave of fatigue finally settle over her body and sweep her under completely. 

Chapter Text

After early dismissal and a quick bus ride across town, Rey trudged through the Coruscant Grove Mall parking lot towards the Lord and Taylor entrance, shifting her backpack on her shoulder. It was lighter than it had been all semester, only a single folder stuffed haphazardly with papers with less than stellar marks than she should have received had she not been so distracted. She’d worn her least ripped-up pair of jean shorts and a fancy-ish black camisole with a light flannel shirt over it, already too warm for the increasingly humid day but well-suited for the air-conditioned coolness of the mall.

The previous weekend and the few days she’d had to process it since (without Ben’s head between her legs) had been eye-opening. She wouldn’t let some guy ruin her chances of being in control of her life ever again. Beau was permanently in her rear-view mirror, and when he passed her in the hall, she hadn’t even bothered to tilt her head in his direction. With graduation next week and the whole summer to relax and prepare, she would head into her first semester of college with a renewed focus and determination. 

She wondered then why she was even bothering to meet Ben now, why she thought he’d even show after all his unrealistic promises and declarations of commitment. She’d seen those movies too. But not even a quick, uncomfortable glance between her and Kaydel had snuffed out her desire to see him just one more time–find out if those crystal brown eyes still held any warmth for her in the cold light of day. 

After surviving the breakup and her subsequent self-destructive aftermath, only to land in the arms of a man twice her age, she couldn’t help but wonder what life held in store for her next and if he might somehow, against all odds, be a part of it. She wanted to do well in school and build a life for herself now that she was on her own. Mr. Solo had offered her the world on a silver platter, but it was too tenuous and precarious for her to solely depend on. If Beau throwing her for a loop and messing up her last semester was any indication, she needed to be able to stand on her own two feet indefinitely. 

Her free ride to college was not guaranteed, nor was the rest of her life. She was about to turn eighteen, and her parents only let her hang around for the summer as long as she kept a job and contributed to the bills. Their parting gift was to let Rey borrow their pickup truck for the day to move her stuff to campus (as long as she brought it back in a timely manner). At the very least, she was free from the foster care system and was going to be the steward of her own destiny now. She didn’t take it lightly, but she knew she had it in her to do whatever she needed to survive.

If Ben didn’t show, she’d take that as her final answer and find a way to live with it, and she was confident that she could, even if it hurt like a bitch. But if he did show, she’d probably never be able to live with it in a way that felt one hundred percent safe, either. 

Coming here might be a huge mistake. She could walk away now, and it would all be over. She’d never have to feel this thick, relentless rope in her chest pulling her towards him again–run as fast as she could until it snapped.

But living in limbo hadn’t exactly been a picnic. The last few days, she’d been distracted in her own little world, unable to stop thinking about Ben for longer than a few moments. Rey shook her head before raising her chin in fake confidence, hellbent on at least finding out what would happen next. 

The mall was relatively calm and quiet, the soft rush of the penny fountains mingling with the mellow jazz that flowed over the speakers. She rode the escalator up to the food court, rapping her fingernails on the rubbery black railing, neck swiveling to see if she recognized any other patrons. To her relief, it was mostly older women power walking and mothers pushing strollers while sipping iced coffees. 

As she disembarked, she searched the seating area for Ben, only finding old men making small talk around a few tables, the sunlight streaming through the skylights catching the steam emanating from their open cups of coffee. Across from them, a few Foot Locker referees hunched over their Subway sandwiches, engaged in excited conversation about the upcoming Jordan release.

“Rey!” Ben called, pulling a hand out of his pocket to wave at her from where he stood before a nearby potted fiddle leaf fig. He wore a fitted black t-shirt and dark jeans that looked like they were sewn directly according to his otherworldly proportions. He wore Adidas Sambas, and if not for the crinkles around his eyes and her intimate knowledge of the rest of his skin, she would have mistaken him for a much younger man.

“Hey,” she called back cautiously, still looking around to see if anyone recognized them. Zero interest from the old men or the referees. She took a deep breath and approached him at last.

“You hungry?” he asked.

Rey had eaten an old granola bar she’d found at the back of her locker shelf on the way over, and her stomach still felt knotted, like a pair of tiny, ferocious gremlins was fighting in there. 

“No, I’m good,” she shook her head.

“Coffee? I need something to do with my hands,” he laughed softly, and he seemed as nervous as she was by the look on his face. 

She had a few ideas about what he could do to put them to good use, but that’s not why they were here. Ben also had every right to worry, given she’d sobbed in his arms multiple times and eventually just ran out on him. Judging by the glances from some of the modelesque department associates staring at him as they breezed by, he could probably have any woman he wanted. She couldn’t help but wonder what he was doing, still deigning to put so much effort into her .

But still, he was here.

“So nice, a man taking his daughter shopping,” an elderly woman with a gorgeous neck scarf said to her equally glamourous friend as they passed.

Rey blushed and felt equally silly and scandalized. Ben shot her a surprised look, his eyes widening. After all, she was precisely the age of his real daughter. 

“Does that turn you on, pervert?” she couldn’t help but joke as the women waltzed out of earshot.

He smirked, his voice low and playfully threatening as he leaned and whispered in her ear. “Does it turn you on, you little slut ?”

Rey’s eyebrows shot up, and she felt her whole body go ramrod straight. Desire flooded through her body in record time, and she wondered if anyone noticed how his words had utterly rattled her.

He leaned away, shoving his hands in his jeans pockets. “Too much?” He looked chagrined. “I’m sorry. You’re all I’ve thought about. I can’t help myself.”

“It’s okay,” she smiled wider than she thought possible in her state–teetering on the precipice of something scary and unprecedented but not entirely unwelcome. She couldn’t help but stare in disbelief at this man she’d like to convince herself that she didn’t want or didn’t want her, but she had yet to find any solid evidence to the contrary.

His shoulders dropped, and he seemed to visibly sigh in relief. “Good!” he chuckled, a little too loudly, so much so that a referee paused mid-chew to stare at him briefly before returning to her sub.

It was then that Rey perhaps truly saw him in a way she hadn’t before. How vulnerable he was, clearly insecure, as he shifted on his feet and stared at her, so pleased to have received her validation.

As much as she’d put her fragile little heart in his hands, she wondered if he had done the same. If anyone was genuinely risking something tangible here, it was him, given her age and all. She hadn’t truly considered he was serious until now, standing here in a beam of sunlight in the middle of The Grove’s food court, in front of the Hot Dog on a Stick, four referees, and three old men sipping coffee. 

“So, instead of coffee, I was hoping we could maybe get boba tea?” she said tentatively, half expecting him to say no. It was overpriced, unhealthy, and–

“Yeah, of course, whatever you want,” he said with a broad smile like he’d secretly hoped for her to choose it. “You’ll have to tell me what to order, though,” he added.

Tears welled in her eyes, and she wondered if she did decide to keep him in her life if she would ever stop waiting for him to let her down. She’d known him less than a week and obviously realized that was silly and unrealistic. Couldn’t she just get it over with and ask him for everything she’s ever wanted until she reached the limit of his generosity? Save them both the time and heartache?

For one, he’d already given her the money, but that had seemed too easy for him, hardly any effort at all. Then there were all the orgasms and all the care after sex, but that also seemed natural to him, like it wasn’t that big a deal whatsoever. She hadn’t had to ask for any of it. But she’d certainly enjoyed it. 

Objectively, she knew that giving herself to him the way she did was a big deal and that he’d technically asked a lot of her as well. But despite how much it tortured her afterward, it had also been just as easy for her. It was stopping that was hard, she realized. And she’d already convinced herself that she absolutely had to. But she clearly wasn’t stopping because she was here with him now, waiting in line for bubble tea and deciding if he was a brown sugar milk tea man or a passionfruit man. She decided on brown sugar for both of them and hoped for the best.

And as they waited for their orders to be made, she started thinking of all the other things she wanted to ask him for, so he could say ‘no’ and she could say ‘See? I told you so!’ as she beat herself up repeatedly for ever believing she could have something so good. 

She wanted to ask him If he’d clap for her at graduation because she knew her parents wouldn’t show. If he’d go with her to pick out stuff for her dorm and help her pack. Since he was so tall, could he hang her fairy lights on the wall? Set up her second-hand laptop? Hold her until she fell asleep? She started to picture the apartment he claimed he would rent nearby to be close to her. If she’d have her own drawer, a shelf in the fridge– 

But to be honest, the bar was already so low. Would he stay with her? Not cheat on her? Be nice to her more often than not? Tolerate her messy emotions (of which there were sure to be many more in the near future as she transitioned to her new, independent life)?

“Penny for your thoughts?” Ben asked as he grabbed both tall, skinny cups in one hand and selected two straws with the other. 

Rey blinked a few times and stared up at him and back down at their drinks. “Let’s find a seat first,” she said decidedly, grasping her cup and straw to lead him to a table as he followed closely behind.

She planted herself on a bench seat attached to a short wall with exotic faux flowers erupting from the top. Ben sat across the small rectangular table from her, brushing some stray crumbs off the surface before he set his drink down. Rey showed him how to punch the straw through the foil lid and watched with anticipation as he took his first sip.

“Oh!” he said, awkwardly chewing a tapioca pearl. “That’s, um, interesting.”

“It’s good, right?” she said, taking a sip of her own. 

Sweet, sweet luxury. It had been so long since Rey had had one. She’d generally avoided the mall, mostly because she couldn’t afford anything there. She’d been taken school shopping here once a year to get a few necessary things, and never from any cool stores. One of her previous sets of parents had brought her to the food court once when she was younger, and she’d imagined a long, beautiful life with them as she sipped bubble tea and ate an overpriced corn dog. Then, she’d quickly learned to know better.

“It’s fucking delicious,” he smiled, taking another cautious sip. “How are you doing?” he asked sincerely, leaning forward. 

His tall frame dwarfed the tiny table, and he had nowhere to put his elbows. It was cute in a way. Made him less intimidating, at the very least. The sunlight caught one of the silver hairs straying from his temple and a tiny shaving nick at the edge of his jaw. This setting had the effect of making him seem like a quite ordinary, albeit still very handsome man. One whose touch she still craved deeply, even more than she had this past weekend. 

“I don’t know, really,” she answered honestly, fingers itching to reach for him. 

“I do,” he responded, all too quickly. “Look,” he started, seeming to take a bracing breath as he placed his palms flat on the table on either side of his drink. “I know what we did was really fast and intense, and it’s probably a lot for you. It was a lot for me too, but I just got so caught up in it, and I didn’t even think to pause for five seconds and– Anyway.” He tapped his fingertips on the table as he sucked in a breath and then continued. “You’re so young, and you probably think I should know better or that I have a clue as to what I’m doing, and truthfully, Rey–”

He paused, looking up at her, his eyes seeming to well. She wanted to jump over the table and into his arms and reassure him. But she knew that she needed to let him finish. Maybe he didn’t have all the answers, but looking at him now, all she knew was that she just needed a start. 

Ben inhaled deeply and pressed his lips together, shaking his head, his eyebrows canted upwards with humility. “I have no fucking idea .”

Rey’s eyes prickled with impending tears, and her lips wobbled into a shaky smile. That statement was more reassuring than any answer to any questions she could have asked him. 

The tip of his nose was reddened as she imagined hers to be. Maybe she was projecting, but Rey swore she could see in him the same fear of waiting for the hammer to drop down and crush him. The hope and terror in equal measure painted across his face was likely mirrored in her own. She’d given him too much credit, thinking he knew what he had wanted, had gotten it, and was done with her (or would be soon enough). It was pretty funny to her now that she thought he’d had any plan whatsoever. She could see in his warm, hopeful eyes that he was just living moment to moment, just as she had been. Swept up in the current of an unexpected passion that seemed simply too good to be real.

She reminded herself that, being a human man, he would eventually let her down, maybe in a big way or in many small ones. But she also reasoned that probably wasn’t the only metric by which you should measure a person. Perhaps they were both going to fuck this up somehow and maybe that was the point. Accepting that inevitability and doing it anyway. Because she didn’t want to know what life would be like if she didn’t at least try.

“I'm scared,” she said because it was the most genuine thing she could think to say, and Ben’s face crumpled slightly, but more in compassion than disappointment. He reached across the table then and closed his hand over hers, pulling it away from her cup, which had been in her death grip more than she realized. Her palm was cold and wet against the dry warmth of his skin. She met his eyes again and nodded as their fingers intertwined slowly.

She swallowed heavily as she attempted to be brave. “I’m scared, but I’m here.”

“Me too,” he responded immediately, his relieved eyes locked with hers as he squeezed her hand. “I’m here. For as long as you want me.” 

A soft, wet, happy hiccup of a laugh emerged from her throat as they stared at each other, his thumb stroking over the back of her hand, keeping her grounded.

“So what now?” she asked her heart swelling, almost painfully, as it expanded, making more room in that delicate space, as she assumed the best for the first time in a very long time. 

“You tell me,” he offered. “We can just hang out the rest of the day and keep talking, or I can take you home, and we do this again in a week?”

He was being so gentle with her, so patient, still offering her space she no longer wanted or needed.

She squeezed his hand back as if it might keep him from leaving and shook her head no. “Let’s hang out. I’m not ready to go yet.”

Ben seemed pleased and took another sip of his drink, almost choking on a boba pearl, leading them to both erupt into easy laughter. 

“Me neither,” he agreed with a pleased smile when he could breathe again.

Rey considered what the rest of their day might look like, knowing she only wanted to squeeze as much enjoyment out of it as possible before she was forced to go home in time for dinner. 

Suddenly, she recalled his excellent taste in linens. “Wanna help me pick out sheets for my dorm?”

“Nothing would make me happier,” he smiled brightly. 

Rey’s shoulders suddenly felt lighter, and she let go of Ben’s hand, leaning back in her chair to take another sip of her drink.

“Good,” she smiled, letting go of the other fifty questions that might follow, knowing there was time now and that it wasn’t so much the answers that mattered as much anymore–it was that she was no longer afraid to hear them.

A well-heeled elderly lady approached their table and paused to press her hand to Ben’s broad shoulder. 

“I was just watching you two. Seeing a father spending quality time with his daughter is so nice. And such a beautiful and well-behaved one at that. You must be so proud,” the woman said, an odd compliment but not entirely rude. Rey briefly wondered if so few fathers were spending time with their kids for Ben to be worthy of this much praise, but she basked in it nonetheless. Maybe it was because he was handsome, and people just wanted an excuse to speak to him. Regardless, Rey also couldn’t help but press her thighs together at the thought of being mistaken for someone who truly belonged to him. 

“I am,” Ben tilted his neck to look up at the woman, though not by much, as his seated height wasn’t much less than hers at full standing.

“Thank you, he raised me very well,” Rey chimed in, enjoying the sight of Ben shifting uncomfortably in his seat at the prolonged attention.

The woman seemed pleased, however, and smiled. “You two have yourselves a good day.”

Rey smiled mischievously at Ben as he turned back towards her and shook his head. “Watch it, little girl,” he smirked. 

“How about those sheets, huh, Dad? ” she laughed, unable to help herself. She felt light and free and like anything was possible.

He stood abruptly and offered his hand, and she accepted it without hesitation. She was caught off guard as he pulled her tightly to his chest and engulfed her in his arms, patting her hair and pressing his lips to her ear as if soothing her or saying a heartfelt goodbye.

His voice was low and laced with lascivious intent.“Now that you know I’m serious about you, what’s it gonna take to get you alone so I can show you exactly how fucking serious I am?” 

Nothing at all was her first thought, and she wondered if the parking lot was big enough to escape to his car and fuck without drawing attention to themselves.

Then she remembered the size of department store fitting rooms and how they were often unattended–

“Lord and Taylor,” she squeaked out. “Men’s department? By the dress shirts?”

She’d passed them on the way in and vaguely recalled a fitting room in the adjacent corner.

“I’ll meet you there in ten minutes. Leave a hanger on the door and play with yourself until I get there.”

“Yes, sir,” she replied readily, her entire body already flushed with anticipatory heat. 

“Go. Now,” he ordered brusquely.

Ben released her after a quick kiss on the top of her head before spinning on his heel to walk briskly in the opposite direction.

Chapter Text

Rey assumed Ben had gone to the stairs on the opposite side of the food court and glanced around to see if anyone she knew had suddenly appeared just to catch them in the act. To her relief, the Foot Locker employees and the old men had already disappeared, taking her secrets with them.

She made a beeline for the escalator, rapidly walking down the steps instead of passively riding. Practically racing back to the department store she’d arrived through, Rey retraced her steps until she found the men’s shirt section. The fitting room was blissfully unattended, and so was the nearest register. She briefly pretended to be interested in the overstuffed racks, running her fingers over some fancy fabrics and peeking at the too-high price tags before ducking inside with a random shirt off the closest rack. If anyone asked, she would say she preferred the fit, but luckily, there was not a single associate to be found. 

The room was also empty, something she’d almost forgotten to worry about, and she headed towards the end of the narrow hall until she reached the end and ducked inside. The shuttered doors extended all the way to the floor, and she couldn’t believe her luck as she removed the shirt from the hanger and hooked it over the top of the door where Ben could see it.

Heeding his instructions, she hung her backpack on a hook and settled on the roomy cushioned bench in front of the full-length mirror. She rested her graffiti-covered Vans in front of her, leaned against the wall, and unzipped her cutoff jean shorts. She was desperately eager to relieve the tension that had built since he’d whispered the promise of sin in her ear in that commanding tone of his. She felt positively unhinged as she slipped her fingers into her panties and began to caress her already throbbing clit, hoping the next person to burst through the door would be the man she’d sworn not to give her heart to.

The man she wanted more than anything she ever wanted in her life, not because of what he could give her or do for her, but because he made her feel equally desired. Like she was worth risking everything for because he simply couldn’t wait to get his hands on her.

It was dangerous, risky, and fun, touching herself as she waited ever so impatiently for him to arrive and show her what else their bodies were capable of.

Her pussy was humiliatingly wet, and her fingers slid through the mess with ease, making her wonder if someone were to enter the adjacent stall, if they would hear the sounds she made with her fingers alone. Spreading her abundant slick around, she closed her eyes and let her mind race around everything she wanted to happen as soon as possible.

After a few torturous moments, she heard quick, heavy footsteps approaching the door and sat up, every hair on her neck standing on end, hoping it would be him and not some flustered security guard or an angry salesperson.

To her relief, it was Ben who pushed the door open with a single finger, slowly revealing himself to her, his expression pleased as he took in her flushed cheeks and unzipped shorts. He peered back towards the front entrance of the fitting room and then stepped inside, holding his index finger to his lips as he locked the door behind him. He removed the hanger from the top of the door and hung it on a nearby hook before moving towards her and dropping to his knees.

His body engulfed hers as he pulled her into his arms and immediately wrapped her legs around his waist. “We don’t have much time,” he whispered hotly in her ear, his hands traveling under her camisole, thumbs brushing over her rapidly hardening nipples as soon as he pulled her soft bralette cups down. “God, I fucking missed you,” he declared before kissing her breathless.

As his lips and tongue explored her throat, he reached between her legs, using his thick, strong fingers to wrench the narrow gussets of her short jean shorts and panties to the side. She inhaled sharply as he inserted two fingers into his mouth to moisten them, then reached between her legs again to gently plunge them inside. 

“So fucking wet, such a well-behaved, eager slut for me,” he praised her, echoing the random woman’s comment from earlier. She couldn’t help but smile proudly in return.

“Ben-” she half-whispered, and he quickly closed his free palm over her lips and continued fucking her with his fingers.

“Shh- someone could walk in any time, and that’s not gonna stop me from fucking you, do you understand?” he threatened. 

It was as if she could feel herself grow increasingly wetter at the thought of being caught and Ben not giving a shit, throwing away his life for her, just for the pleasure it would bring him. 

She reached forward to fumble with his pants button, almost succeeding before he batted her hands away and took over, removing himself quickly and gently, working his shaft up and down. Though he needed little encouragement. He shifted her ass off the bench, pulling her closer until their warm centers met, ratcheting her need to a near-painful level. She needed him inside her soon, or she might actually cry from the frustration. 

He stood then, and she held on for dear life as he turned their bodies towards the adjacent wall, pressing her back roughly into the sheetrock. She turned her head, realizing they’d have a full mirror view of their brazen act. 

“That’s right. Watch,” he whispered in her ear as he notched himself.

She watched herself come undone, every muscle on her face twitching in succession, her lips falling open, her eyebrows titling in ecstasy, her eyelids half-closing from the intense, shuddering pleasure as he entered her. 

“Mmm-fffuck,” he grunted against the delicate skin of her throat as he pushed all the way in, fast enough to knock the wind out of her lungs, grinding himself deep inside until she thought she might burst from the pressure. 

She continued staring into the mirror as he pulled almost all the way out, his shaft wet and shiny with her slick before he rammed back into the hilt.

“Fuck,” she whined, the word obtaining extra syllables as she lost control of her mouth muscles. It was simultaneously embarrassing yet delicious, the way he unraveled her.

“Be fucking quiet ,” he hissed, only to fill the empty dressing room with wet slapping sounds a few seconds later. The mirror itself shook in its brackets as he pounded into her.

He covered her mouth with his, and it held back her delirious moans. She forced herself to avert her eyes from the lewd yet sacred image that would be seared in her brain forever more – her small, delicate body, bent in half, pressed into a wall, repeatedly impaled by his massive, muscular form.

She closed her eyes and accepted all of him - his tongue, his thick cock, his fingertips firm against her scalp, his palms cradling her face, his warm breath on her cheek. 

He was obviously close by the way he quickened his movements, becoming selfish and greedy. He lowered her to the ground to fuck her standing up. She tightened her thighs around him as he slid in at a new, intoxicating angle.

“Play with yourself. Make yourself come,” he whispered with a hint of desperation, gripping her hips and adopting a slow but insistent pace. His eyes were wild as he watched himself enter and exit repeatedly. He lifted her shirt and teased her still-exposed breasts, just like he had when she’d been tied to the chair the previous weekend, the recollection bringing a renewed flood of pleasure.

She turned her head towards the mirror again, taking in her debauched state, Ben’s hurried but steady movements, and touched herself as instructed. 

The power she felt, seeing herself this way with him, how well they fit together, how fucking gorgeous they looked, was thrilling. 

This was worth it. It had all been worth it. 

She closed her eyes and felt the wave roll through her, hot and searing at her core, cooling in concentric circles as it reached the tips of her fingers and toes, leaving goosebumps in its wake.

With a strained groan, Ben buried himself deep, pulling her close by the waist with one hand and bracing his other palm on the wall above her head as he emptied inside her. 

Ben pressed his forehead to the space next to his palm and kissed the top of her head as he caught his breath, resting momentarily as she stared in awe at the picture they had made together. If she were an artist, she’d want to paint it an infinite number of times, from every angle, in every style. 

It took her a few moments to realize he’d joined her in gazing at their conjoined bodies, a slow, pleased smile forming on his face, his eyes watery and wistful.

“You’re so beautiful, he whispered, just for her. 

She wrapped her hands around his waist and pulled herself upwards until he slipped out, and they were standing freely without the support of the wall. As he draped his arms around her completely, her shorts slid back into place of their own accord, sparing her the dilemma of how to walk out of this mall with a single shred of dignity. 

“So are you,” she echoed, squeezing her arms tight around his waist. 

Her head resting on his chest, she let him sway their bodies together for a bit, soaking in the moment, hardly believing she’d almost missed out on this. 

“I don’t want to go, but we should,” he insisted. 

Rey savored the moment for a few seconds more before releasing him from her grip and putting her bra and camisole back in their proper positions. Ben immediately zipped up his pants and straightened his shirt, turning towards the mirror to swipe his unfairly luxurious hair into its prior, perfect shape. 

His voice and face were equally hopeful as he turned towards herl. “You go first since you’ve been here longer. Meet me outside?”

“Okay,” she whispered back, wondering if he was still giving her a chance to bolt, even now. But that only endeared him to her more.

No more running. Unless it was toward him.

After a quick peck on the lips and a speedy escape, she made it outside scot-free and waited for more than a few minutes. Her heart felt simultaneous light for all they’d overcome and also heavy because he still hadn’t come out yet.

She watched the door anxiously, hands in her pockets, rocking on her heels. They still had a few hours they could spend together before she had to go home, and she hoped he’d spend them with her.

The longer it took, the more she had to fight the voices inside her head that told her this was the moment she’d been waiting for. The one where she could feel stupid now for believing. 

So sorry in advance

Before you take off your pants

I wouldn't let me near your friends

I wouldn't let me near your dad

But don't blame me, blame Brett

Blame my ex, blame my ex, blame my ex¹

But she fought it–with every ounce of her being.

You could be my baby, baby, maybe

Oh oh²

And just when she thought she might slip again, the mean, angry thoughts like vengeful ghosts still banging at the closed door at the back of her brain, the door to the mall finally opened. 

Ben emerged, looking equally relieved.

Rey exhaled and reached out to him–without a single voice in her head telling her not to—and Ben accepted without hesitation. With irrepressible smiles on their faces, they each nodded and turned their faces toward the future.

Together, they walked out into the vast parking lot, hand in hand.