Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Rey’s been clicking on the DM symbol at the top corner of his profile five times per day for the past week, only to instantly close the app again. 

She’s insane for even considering reaching out. 

Rey had downloaded JustFans to support her favorite fitness instructor when she left her former platform to take full control of her own business, and while Rey knew there were all sorts of weird stuff on the app, she never went looking for those things. Why would she? For months, Rey exclusively used the app to get her daily fix of training inspiration, until one fateful day, when she accidentally stumbled upon an ad, accidentally clicked it, and accidentally accepted the offer of seeing that creator’s content for free for three days. 

Rey sat on her couch each night during those three days, with her phone glued to her hand and just barely remembering to eat, experiencing the entire range of human emotions, some that she’d never felt before, as she stared at her screen.

First, repulsion. 

Even without the specials that remained locked away , her field of vision was flooded with exposed skin, parted lips, big hands grabbing tightly into naked flesh… 

It made her throw her phone over to the other end of the sofa, where it stayed for just under an hour when curiosity took over her entire being again and forced her to reopen the app. 

Fascination, disbelief, outrage, embarrassment, shame, and, worst of all, a tickling sense of excitement followed. The emotions hit her all at once or one by one in waves, merging into each other so seamlessly she never noticed when her casual interest in human behaviors shifted into a raving need for more, and when her trial period ran out, she tried to forget about the whole thing, but she ultimately, and full of guilt, signed up for a subscription. Just for a single month. 

But it’s been several months now, and ever since the first time she took the plunge and paid the extra fee to open one of his specials, she’s been spiraling into a whole new world, a world she’s never been a part of before. 

Rey Niima is 24 years old, and she has never had sex. She doesn’t really know why, but she had a rough childhood, a few rougher years during her teens, and the idea of sharing that sort of intimacy with another person just never really appealed to her. And after she hit 20, it began to feel as if she’d missed that particular train entirely. 

Kylo Ren, as the man behind the JustFan-account calls himself, makes his living on sleeping with virgins. In the week leading up to a new drop of one of his specials, he posts semi-naked photos of the woman in question, with captions that make Rey blush harder than the photos.

She sometimes wonders what he’d write about her. 

In the past few weeks, that’s all she’s been able to think about. 

Well, his captions, and what it would feel like to have him touch her, the way he touches the other girls. 

He’s a big man, Kylo Ren, in every thinkable meaning of the word, and Rey wonders what it would be like to have him on top of her. 

Could she drown underneath his body? 

She opens his profile again, to read the words she’s read hundreds of times before. 

Watch me turn saints into sinners, one blushing maiden at a time. 

DM me any business inquiries.

Business inquiries. Rey sighs. She’s insane, but her eyes stay fixed at those words nonetheless. 

What if anyone found out? 

Then again, if anyone found out, it would mean they’re subscribing to Kylo’s content, too.

And again , it’s not as if she knows all too many people, she doesn’t even have parents to disappoint, which for the first time in her life feels a bit like an advantage.

She could do this, if she wanted to, with little to no consequences. It’s just the fact that it’s…

Wrong.

It’s fundamentally wrong to entertain the idea of asking a man to sleep with her for the very first time, while he freaking records it. It’s wrong and weird and in all honesty rather revolting, yet it’s all she can think about, the only thing that cuts through the layers of grey that is her life, and makes her feel…

alive.

She randomly opens one of his posts. It’s a close-up of a blonde woman with red lips, with a man’s massive hand cradling her chin, while she looks into the camera with a shy smile. 

A literal angel just before the fall. Tune in on Saturday…

The date that follows is already in the past, but Rey remembers this woman and her encounter with Ren all too well. He always tells the women how beautiful they are, how amazing they feel, how good they’re being, but when Rey heard him tell this woman those things, it had been the first time she’d felt a twinge of something that wasn’t the usual mixture of excitement and guilt. It took her days to name the feeling, and another wave of shame washed over her once she realized what it was.

Jealously. 

Rey knows that she doesn’t have any right to claim him, the man doesn’t even know she exists, but her blood still boils whenever the girls he fucks reach for him, pulling him into kisses he shouldn’t give to anyone, but to her. And if Rey’s perfectly honest, it’s the thought of him sleeping with yet another woman that isn’t her that ultimately pushes her into typing the message she’s been thinking about for weeks. 

***

Hi, I have an inquiry. I’m wondering if you would be interested in teaming up with me for one of your specials? Cheers, Rey 

“Did you find it?” Poe's voice trickles through the speakers of Ben’s phone.

“Sure did,” Ben says, “Thanks, Poe, I’ll check it out.”

“Alright then, boss man, I’m logging off for the weekend, you’re on your own.”

“Bye.”

Ben sighs. Poe being off for the weekend means that Ben has to go through his DM’s all on his own, and sort the spam from the fan mail and the fan mail from the business proposals. Ben hates to respond to anything that’s not business-related, but communication with his fans is a crucial part of keeping his subscribers happy, a chore that simply has to be done if you want to be successful in this industry, and it’s a task Ben had been happy to delegate to Poe as soon as his finances allowed him to. The business proposals are a different story though, and Ben handles them by himself, once Poe has retrieved them from the depths of Ben’s overflowing inbox.

Hi, Rey. 

Just to be clear, are you interested in filming a video with me? If so, there are a few details we have to go over before we move forward. 

The answer appears almost instantly.

Correct. 

First of all, how old are you? And are you familiar with the concept of the content I create? 

24. And yes I am.

I’m sorry if this is too blunt, but my subscribers are very attentive, so I have to ask if you’re truly a virgin?

Ben loathes to ask, but he’s not willing to risk his livelihood just because he feels stupid to ask something so personal. He’s slept with women posing as virgins in the past, resulting in mass cancellations from his subscribers and painful holes in his wallet. 

I am a virgin, yes. 

Onto the next of Ben’s questions, and he dislikes this one as much as the one before. He doesn’t enjoy behaving like a dick, but in this case, it’s rather important to make sure his actual dick will be cooperative if they decide to do a feature together.

Could you send me a recent picture of yourself?

Sure… I don’t have a lot of good ones, though. 

Perhaps this one, it’s from a friend’s wedding. 

A photo of a slender brunette with a big smile fills Ben’s screen, and he instinctively starts typing:

How on earth have you managed to stay a virgin ?

But he deletes the message instead of hitting send. Ben might fuck for money, but he’s professional about it, and he’s careful not to stick his slightly over-dimensioned nose where it doesn’t belong. Quite a few of “his” girls come from strict religious upbringings, and he knows that they don’t go to him just to make a buck. To them, there’s also a symbolic value, a rebellion if you will, to be found in the act of surrendering their virginity in such an… unsentimental way, and this gorgeous, perfect creature could very well be one of those girls. He can get plenty unsentimental with her if that’s what she’s looking for.

I think my subscribers would love to get to know you. 

Really? 

I’m sure of it. Do you mind if I call you, to discuss the details?

Alright. 

Ben clicks on the phone number she sends him, and she picks up a few moments later.

“Hello?”

“Hi, this is Ben.” 

“Ben,” she repeats, “Like Ren, but with a B? Clever.”

Her voice is low and warm in a way Ben hadn’t anticipated, with a distinct, and irresistible, accent.

“Are you British?” 

“Oh.” There’s a pause. “Originally, yes.” 

Ben’s heart, and dick, swell at the prospect of hearing her say all kinds of naughty things in that fancy dialect of hers.

“That’s great.”

“It… is?” 

“Yeah, I mean…” Ben scrambles for his words, “It— it brings a bit of diversity to my account, you know?” 

“Diversity?” She chuckles. “I’m still quite white, you know.” 

Ben blushes, even though he’s all by himself. He can’t remember the last time he blushed.

“Maybe… maybe variation would’ve been a better word?”  

“Maybe.” 

Ben’s relatively sure there’s a smile in her voice, which hopefully means she’s still on the same page as him, even if he’s suddenly grown incapable of expressing himself properly. He needs to shape up, right now, he can’t let this one slip out of his grasp.

“So, let’s go over the details…” 

They discuss the rather non-erotic parts of their upcoming collaboration for a little while; the required blood work, the money, the rights to the finished product, the living arrangements… and whenever she says something, anything, Ben wishes he could ask her follow up-questions that aren’t at all relevant to their plans, just to keep her talking in that soothing voice of hers.

But he doesn’t engage personally with the girls.

He doesn’t need to know them, in fact, it’s better if he doesn’t know them at all because the more awkward and insecure the girls are when they start filming, the bigger the difference there’ll be when he ultimately unravels them - and his subscribers love to watch that transition happen over and over again. All Ben has to know is that his partners are healthy and consenting, and that goes for this one too, even if she appears to be prettier and funnier and more intriguing than all of the other girls combined.

“Alright,” Ben hums, “I think all there’s left is to set a date…” 

“I’m quite flexible, so you just name a date.”

Flexible . Of course, she’s flexible. Ben’s head swims, new projects usually never make him this excited, but there’s just something about this girl that turns him into a blubbering idiot. 

He needs to plan something special for her feature, for her—

Maybe…?

No, this isn’t the time. He’d weird her out if he asked that of her. 

“Ben? Are you still there?”

“Huh? Yeah, I’m here…”

“So, when would be a good time for you?” 

Don’t say it.

Do not fucking say—

“When will you be ovulating?”

Several seconds pass and Ben groans internally as the silence rings in his ear. 

“I’m sorry, when will I what now?”

There’s definitely not a smile in her voice now, but not exactly anger either. 

“Ovulating,” Ben repeats, “We could ask for twice as much if you’re ovulating.” 

Silence again.

“Why?” 

Bless this girl’s innocent little heart.

“It’s just a kink that I— I mean, that people have. It’s the idea of…” Ben clears his throat, “making a woman pregnant. It’s a turn-on for some folks out there, and it’s a popular request…”

Yet another silence.

“But we’d have a morning-after-pill ready to go afterward, of course,” he hurries to add, “I’m not saying I’m actually gonna get you… pregnant.”

God, if he loses this deal just because he couldn’t keep it together he’ll fucking—

“I think…” she mumbles, “I think it should be next weekend? But maybe that’s too soon for you?” 

“No!” Ben exclaims, “No, I’m free next weekend.”

In truth, he’s not, he’s got another girl lined up on Saturday, but he’ll find a way to wiggle out of that engagement. 

“Okay, so… Saturday, then?”

“It’s a date.” 

*** 

Rey stares at her phone’s blank screen. She just arranged a meet-up with Kylo Ren, the Kylo Ren, to give him her virginity, while he records the whole thing and sells it. She has officially lost her mind, that’s the only reasonable explanation for her behavior, as well as for her reaction to his rather scandalous suggestion of meeting up when she’s… 

Is she one of those people Ben talked about? 

A person with... kinks? 

Maybe she shouldn’t be all too surprised by this revelation, she’s seen the content Kylo creates after all, and it’s not as if it consists of backlit romantic lovemaking… but how twisted do you have to be, to not only agree to his plan but feel all tingly about it, too? Rey might not have bought and watched all of his specials, but she has worked her way through his entire JustFan-feed and looked at all of the photos and teaser trailers he’s ever published, and she still hasn't seen him mentioning… that kink. 

Maybe…

Maybe it’s because he hasn’t done it. Maybe she’ll get to be a first for him, too.

God, she has to nail it. 

She has to be perfect enough to make him realize he shouldn’t fuck anyone, but her. 

That bone-deep determination wilts into the worst performance anxiety Rey’s ever endured during the days that follow. Ben texts her a couple of times, which proves that her plans for Saturday aren’t just a fever dream, just casually asking for her clothing size, confirming her hotel booking, and reminding her to pick out not only a stage name but a safe word too. 

A

safe

word.

Rey doesn’t have a clue how she makes it through her workweek, but suddenly it’s Saturday morning, and she’s sitting on a train. She spends the two-hour trip compulsively checking her phone, just waiting for a text from Ben where he cancels on her, but no, the phone remains silent, and a cab is waiting for her outside the station when she arrives, just like Ben promised there would be. The driver helps Rey load her duffel bag into the trunk, holds the door for her, and asks for her to confirm the address he’s been given beforehand.

It’s her last chance to get out of this madness. She could just say nope sorry that’s not the one and it would all be over. Ben would undoubtedly get a little annoyed with her, but the physical distance between them would shrink the risk of Rey randomly bumping into him to almost zero, and if she deleted her JustFans account, she’d probably never see his face ever again. 

And he’d go back to fucking everyone else, everyone but her. She can’t let that happen. She needs to have him, at least for a little while. 

“That’s the one,” Rey tells the driver with a smile, “Thank you.”  

A drizzle begins to fall as the car pulls away, and it continues to blur the world on the other side of the car window during the ride over to Ben’s house. 

“Here we are,” the driver announces.

The cab stops outside of a very ordinary-looking house, with a nice little porch and a big lawn surrounded by a white picket fence, and Rey almost snorts. It’s not exactly the home she envisioned a thirty-something-year-old male sex worker to have, but she supposes even Kylo Ren needs a roof over his head. 

The cab driver helps her with her luggage again, while politely asking if she’s in town to visit her parents.

“No, I’m—”

“Hey!” A deep voice calls out from behind Rey’s back.

Rey’s heart skips at least one beat before it bolts into a frenzy.

“It’s him,” she mumbles to the driver, “I’m here to see him.” 

“Oh.” The cab driver grins. “Have fun.” 

Rey nods briefly, before she turns around, clinging to the handles of her bag under whitening knuckles. Ben has already made it halfway to the sidewalk, and his size shouldn’t come as a surprise, but it does. 

He’s massive, like a freaking ox turned into a man, and Rey’s mouth dries out just as quickly as her brain goes blank. 

“Let me help you with that.” 

He reaches for her bag, and Rey wouldn’t say she hands it to him, as much as she simply allows him to take it. 

In the same way as she’s about to allow him to take other things. 

“You good?” 

“Oh,” Rey exhales, “I’m good. Great. Nice place.”

She gestures vaguely toward his house, earning a soft chuckle in response.

“I bought it from my parents when they decided to go globetrotting. Come on, let’s get you out of the rain.” 

Rey follows Ben back to his house, and up the steps to his porch.

“So… Do they know?”

“About my career choice?” Ben barks out a surprised laugh, “No. What they don’t know can't hurt them, right?” 

“Right.” 

Rey’s knees shake as she steps over the threshold. Ben's body seems to fill his entire hallway, and the way he looks at her while she’s peeling her coat off makes her feel as if she’s already stripping out of her underwear. 

A thing he could ask her to do in what… a few minutes? 

Rey swallows hard enough to hurt her throat.

***

She’s even lovelier in real life, even though she’s clearly scared out of her mind. 

Ben guides her further into his house, and Rey follows him like a shadow, albeit a rather small and twitchy one. 

“Do you want something to eat?” 

“I ate on the train.” 

She’s lying, but Ben doesn’t push it. 

“Okay, do you wanna freshen up before we get down to business?” 

Rey’s face turns ashen, then green, before she nods at the same time as her skin settles on a shade that’s just shy of paper white. Ben probably should feel bad for her, but he doesn’t, not really, because he’s determined to take care of her. 

Properly and thoroughly and preferably repeatedly.

He’s planning on making her feel things she hasn’t ever allowed herself to feel, coaxing her into losing every last inch of her self-control, and having her begging and whimpering for more. 

A twitch in Ben’s lower regions forces him to take an awkward little double-step, but Rey doesn’t seem to notice it. They reach his bathroom without any further incidents, and Ben opens the door for her.

“Okay, so just go ahead and do whatever you want. That’s the shower, you got clean towels over there, and this right here…” Ben points to a hanger dangling off a hook on the wall. “is your outfit.”

Rey pinches the cream-white silk of her new robe between her fingers, and the ghost of a smile travels across her features.

“It’s gorgeous. Thank you.”

“It’s just a job benefit.” Ben shrugs. “Oh, and before I forget, um, about the—” 

He’s usually never uncomfortable discussing anything that’s somehow related to sex, but apparently, it’s different with this specific topic. Or perhaps it’s her, that’s different. 

It could be both. 

“About the what?” 

She looks up at him with her gorgeous hazel eyes, causing an electrical current to run up Ben’s spine. 

“Are you still okay with the… the specialty of this special ? The—” Ben wants to smack himself for failing so spectacularly at handling this tactfully. “The ovulation bit?” 

“Oh.” A faint pink tint spreads across her cheeks. “Yes. I mean, if it’s a good thing for your account—”

“It is!” Ben hears himself exclaim. “It’s gonna blow up. Virtually, I mean! It’s just…” 

“Just what?” 

She’s smiling now, quite possibly right on the border of smirking. 

“We need to prove it. That you’re ovulating— if you are indeed ovulating.”

How many times during this cursed conversation is he planning on needlessly squeezing in a variation of the word ovulation ? Ben wants to melt through the floor.

“How should I prove that?” 

“Just a second…”

Ben pulls a drawer underneath the basin open to fetch a small plastic cup. Rey stares at the object in his hands with a slight frown. 

“Um, so, I know this is… odd.” Ben pauses before pushing on. “But a urine sample is the best way to determine whether you’re ovulating or not.” 

Ah, great, he found a way to repeat himself, again.

“You want me to…” Rey stumbles on her words. “In that?” 

“Just a little,” Ben exclaims as if it’s the amount that bothers her.

A myriad of micro-expressions ripple across Rey’s features, and Ben fears the worst. She’ll turn around and leave again. 

But she doesn’t. 

“This is nuts.” She breaks into a fit of giggles. “But sure, if you need me to pee in that, I’ll pee in that.” 

“Really? Great! So, just… go ahead and do your business, leave it on the counter, freshen up, get dressed, and then we’ll start rolling, alright? And if it’s negative, we’ll simply cut that part out and—” Ben shoots her a grin, “just move forward with our other plans.” 

Rey’s face turns solemn again, but her head dips in a curt nod before she waves him out the door.

“Jesus Christ,” Ben mutters to himself while running a hand through his hair.

That could’ve ended with her leaving him to his own devices, but now it seems as if he's this close to experiencing something he’s been dreaming about ever since he took his first wobbly steps into this business. 

And with a woman like her, at that.

God, she’s pretty. 

Almost too pretty, actually. Ben realizes he’s in need of a distraction from the fact that she’s naked on the other side of his bathroom door, with water pouring down that pert ass of hers—

Distraction, yes, he needs a distraction.

Ben heads over to his bedroom, well, not the one he actually sleeps in, his other bedroom, to make sure that all three cameras have fresh batteries and clean lenses. Once he’s wiped all of them down, Ben cranks up the heat another notch. 

She’ll be naked in here, soon. With him. 

“Best goddamn job…” 

“Ben?” Rey’s voice calls out from down the hall, “I think I’m done.” 

Rey’s poking her head out the hall, looking even more beautiful than she did just minutes ago, and she lights up when she spots Ben. 

“But…” she mumbles, “I couldn’t find any… panties?” 

“That’s sort of intentional, sweetheart.”

“Oh. Right.”

“And now, it’s time to put on your best influencer act.” Ben grins while waving a small box toward her. “Open this like you’re unboxing some brand new lip gloss that Rihanna just sent you.”

“Aye-aye, captain.” 

Rey fetches the box easily when Ben tosses it to her. He hoists his phone out of his pocket. 

“So, I’ll go a bit more Kylo Ren-ish once I hit record. Okay?” 

“I think I can handle it.” She smiles, and rather mischievously at that. 

Ben arches a brow and smirks.

“We’ll see.” 

A delicious blush instantly spreads over her cheeks, to Ben’s great satisfaction. He’s spent quite some time perfecting his Kylo Ren-voice and he’s happy to see that Rey, even though she’s capable of stunning him into a borderline drunken state, still responds to the sound the way he hoped she would. 

“One, two, three, action,” Ben says and pushes the red dot at the bottom of his phone. 

“Alright, so today we’re doing this…” Rey shows the box to the camera, before starting to peel the plastic off of it. “This is not environmentally friendly, you know.”

Her fingers shake ever so slightly, and Ben’s heart might ache just a little for her after all, even though he knows he’s soon going to make up for her current suffering. 

“Okay, so I’m gonna dip it…” 

Rey turns her back to the camera and leans in over the sink, making her short robe ride higher up the back of her thigh, and while it might be Ben’s job, he can’t help but feel guilty as he tilts his phone to catch the slight movement of the silken hem. Rey straightens again, clicks the cap back onto the test, and spins around to face Ben.

“Three minutes, you guys.” 

“God, I hope it’s positive,” Ben hums. 

“Really?” 

“Of course.” Ben moves his phone up and down her body. “Who wouldn’t want this as their baby mama?”

“Stop it!” she half-squeals, and half-giggles, “Don’t tease me.”

“I’m not teasing you. Not even a little bit.” 

Rey’s eyes flicker to meet his, and when they do, she literally bites her lip. She just pulls that glorious soft bottom lip in between her teeth, and Ben almost breaks.

Screw the camera, their feature, screw everything, he just wants to kiss her now. Eat her out now, fucking fuck her right this goddamn second, or else he’ll fall into a heap and bloody die.

“Have you decided on a stage name?” he asks as casually as he can, to keep from jumping her. 

“Yeah… What do you think about Kira?” 

Kira and Kylo. That shit fucking rhymes.

“That’s a great one.”

“Are you planning on keeping this bit in? The waiting around I mean.”

“I’ll just speed it up. Make us sound like squirrels, you know.”

“Right,” Rey deadpans, “nothing sets the mood like a bit of Chip’n’Dale.” 

“Cute and funny.” Ben grins, “A lethal combination.” 

“Oh, shut your face! I told you to stop teasing me.” 

“Alright, alright! I think it’s time, what does it say?” 

Rey inhales, spins around, and turns back to face the camera again, with the test between her fingers. She peeks at it, then flips it towards Ben.

“Two lines,” she announces with a tentative smile. 

“That’s a positive, right?” 

“Yep.”

“You did good, baby.” 

Rey’s cheeks and what’s showing of her chest practically combust at his words, and whatever pink hue Ben’s been able to lure onto her complexion earlier fades in comparison to the way her skin now floods with color. 

Praise kink, check. 

That’s a useful and hot thing to have, in Ben’s humble opinion, and every last drop of blood inside of his head rushes south at the idea of her trying to show him what a good girl she is. 

Ben reaches for her hand, folding it firmly into his, before heading off towards the bedroom.

“Let’s get you knocked up.” 

***

He’s definitely Kylo now. 

The second he saw the lines on that test, his eyes turned black, and Rey’s stomach dropped at the sight, the same way it does when you’re at the top of a rollercoaster. 

She trails behind him hand-in-hand, unable to tell whether she’s nervous or just plain old terrified, but his hand is nice to hold, warm and steady, and Rey would probably follow him to the end of the world, as long as she could still cling to it. He doesn’t lead her to the world’s end, however, but to a bedroom with curtains that mutes the daylight outside, turning the atmosphere inside the room into something lush and almost magical. 

He’s done his social media homework, she’ll give him that. 

“We need to snap a few pictures,” he hums, “for promo, you know.” 

“Sure,” Rey says as if she’s totally chill with semi-nude modeling. 

“Get on the bed, please.”

Oh Lord, he’s impatient. To get her out of there?

No. 

No one has ever looked at her the way he does as Rey climbs into his bed, and while she might not be the most experienced woman out there, she’s still rather certain that’s a look of frustration and not boredom. 

“Let’s start with a few of your face…” 

Ben lifts his phone to Rey’s face, and she very awkwardly stares into its lense. 

“You know what, I could use a shot.” Ben chuckles. “You want one?”

“Yes, please.” 

***

A rather large shot of vodka later, Rey sinks back into the pile of pillows with a slightly less horrified expression on her face. 

“Alright, look at the camera, and untie that belt.” 

Ben can tell how deeply uncertain and self-conscious she’s feeling by the tension in her movements, but she still pushes on and begins to toy with the belt. The robe falls apart and unveils the short nightgown she wears underneath. It’s the same off-white color as her robe, but entirely made out of lace, and it’s thin enough to allow her dusty pink nipples to shine through the fabric. 

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” 

Ben hurries to catch a few shots of her genuine smile, before asking her to turn over. 

“Like this?”

“Yep. I want a few of your… back…”

That’s not exactly the body part he’s most interested in, but what’s a white little lie among two soon-to-be sexual partners? 

“Cross your ankles, like that… I’m just gonna fix the hem…”

Again, Ben’s perfectly aware that this is his job, but it still doesn’t feel as if he has earned the right to pinch the hem between his fingers and adjust it, moving it up her body until it’s just barely covering her behind. 

“Arch a little.” His voice sounds impossibly thick, even to himself. “That’s it.”

Ben slides a hand over the silk that covers her back, making sure the robe drapes along with the way her body curves. Speaking of curves… 

That ass of hers could very well become the death of him.

“I need—” Ben clears his throat. “I’m gonna… touch you, okay? The size kink-people always wanna see my hands, too.” 

“Okay.”

She tenses up when Ben cups her behind, but she keeps arching her back to offer Ben a good shot of his fingers sinking into her silk-covered flesh. 

God, she’s tiny, compared to him. 

Ben snaps less than half of the pictures he usually does, but he can’t stand it any longer, he needs to get this show going or he’ll go insane. 

“Okay, so let’s do the intro bit now, I just need to turn the gear on and get out of my clothes.” 

Ben rushes around the room to turn the cameras on, and when they’re all blinking red, he jumps out of his clothes, save for his black boxer briefs. Rey, on the other hand, sits up, wraps the robe around her body, and scoots down to the edge of the bed. Ben sits down next to her, and her entire body stiffens. 

She’ll relax, soon enough. 

“Ready?” 

“Guess so,” she mutters, “God…” 

“Alright, here we go.” Ben turns to one of the cameras. “Hey everyone, and welcome back. I’m Kylo Ren, and I turn saints into sinners, one blushing maiden at a time. I have a very special treat for you this Saturday, please meet today’s guest, a true British rose; Kira.” 

“Hi, everyone.” She gives the camera a shy half-wave.  

“As you all know, consent is not only important but also hot. So without further ado; Kira, do you want to have sex with me in front of all of these cameras?” 

“Yes.” It’s little more than a squeal. 

“And as always, we’re gonna use a safe word, and if either of us says that word during any point of this, everything will stop, no matter what. What word did you pick?” 

“Pineapple,” she whispers.

“Pineapple it is,” Ben confirms, before he finally , finally allows himself to fully slip into his Kylo Ren-persona. “Come here.” 

Ben slides his hands up her neck, into her hair, and descends upon her. Her lips freeze under his, but only for a moment, before they tentatively begin to move. A few seconds later, Ben brushes his tongue against hers, earning a soft little sigh in return. 

It sets something off in him.

Ben pulls back, moves his left leg further up the mattress, and then pats his thigh.

“Get up here.” 

Rey's eyes grow wide as they flicker between his face and his thigh. 

“I— I can’t…” Rey shakes her head ever so slightly, “I’m sorry, but I—”

“Sch, baby,” Ben coos, “it’s alright. I promise. Come here, now.” 

He grabs her by her waist and gently pulls her towards him until she ends up with one knee on either side of Ben’s leg. 

“You don’t have to hover,” he hums.

“But I’ll—”

“Get that perfect cunt all over my thigh? That’s the plan.”

The sound she makes probably isn’t even a word, but it’s by all accounts not pineapple, so Ben yanks her hips down until she’s properly straddling his thigh, and before she’s had the time to even think about objecting, he’s kissing her again. 

Deep and slow, with his hands still clinging to her hips, and the second she allows herself to melt into him, Ben tilts her pelvis the tiniest little bit forward, only to push it back again. He repeats it one more time, and Rey doesn’t need more to understand what it is he’s asking of her. Before Ben knows it, she’s doing the smallest of rocking motions on top of his leg all on her own, while simultaneously kissing him like there’s no tomorrow.

Such a quick learner, this one.

Ben soon abandons her lips, in favor of mouthing his way down her neck. 

Does he break the fourth wall and smirks straight into the camera when her hands lift to grab fistfuls of his hair? Yes. 

“Just to be perfectly clear,” he rumbles next to her ear, “you do understand that even if you’re whining about something, I’ll still go on unless you say the safe word?” 

Rey hides her face in the crook of his shoulder, before nodding. 

“No, no, no, speak up.” 

“Yes,” she breathes against the skin of his neck, “I understand.” 

Ben kisses her temple and adds a little pressure over her hips again, to make sure she keeps on moving.

“You’re gonna be good for me, aren’t you?” 

Her fingers flex and contract and Ben loses a few strands of hair because of it, but he doesn’t mind. 

“You’re gonna listen, and do as I say? Hm?” 

***

God, Rey wanted him to be exactly like this, yet she’s horrified by her willingness to surrender to it. Well, a part of her is anyways, that small part of her brain that’s still functional enough to process the fact that she’s low-key rubbing her naked sex against a man’s bare thigh. The rest of her is busy soaking up his warmth, the sensation of his arms around him, the nibbles of his lips down her shoulder…

“Yes,” she sighs. 

Two ridiculously big fingers tilt her head back, and his face is startlingly close to hers.

“You know I’ll take care of you, right?” 

Rey swears his voice somehow runs directly to her vagina, because fucking hell, it makes her clench down so hard it could qualify as a full-blown cramp. 

“Promise?” 

“I promise.”

He kisses her again, hungrier this time, and his equally hungry hands slide her robe down her shoulders, before yanking it away and tossing it to the side. Rey almost yelps, when he suddenly dives down to her chest, and sucks most of her left tit into his mouth, nightgown and all. Ben devours her with one arm wrapped around her waist, while his left hand kneads her right breast so firmly it almost hurts.

Maybe it does.

In a good way.

Up until now, Rey’s been either kissing him or shielding her face against his neck, but when his tongue flicks over her nipple, her head drops back. 

“Holy shit,” Rey tells the ceiling, “shit!”

Ben’s chuckle is muffled by the amount of boob he still keeps squeezed into his mouth. The man would suffocate if she’d packed more in that department because lord almighty how does he even do that?! Everything blurs away, but his mouth on her, his arms around her, and his thigh under her - it’s all she’ll ever need. 

“I think it might be time you show off some other parts of you.” 

Rey’s brain is little more than mush, but his comment pulls her back to reality. The one where there’s an audience to consider. 

“No, no, don’t get shy with me,” Ben murmurs as Rey deflates like a popped balloon, “You’re beautiful, okay? Stop thinking.”

Ben then proceeds to rather unceremoniously lift her off his thigh, and flop her down onto her back. There’s a wet stain where his mouth was moments ago, turning the once sheer lace absolutely transparent, and Rey’s pink nipple is standing out against the white like a goddamn stop sign in the middle of a snowstorm. Ben stares at it for three full seconds, before settling down next to her, with his lips brushing against the shell of her ear.

“You’re gorgeous, Kira.” He sounds almost pained. 

“Thank you?” Rey squeaks.

Soft huffs of air from Ben’s chuckle play over Rey’s skin, as he slides an arm in under her neck, to inch himself even closer to her. 

“Do you even know what you do to me?” His finger slides down her sternum, over her stomach, and hooks a hold of the hem of her gown. “Do you even understand how badly I wanna fuck you?” 

Rey can’t remember how to breathe, and the only response she can muster is a small shake of her head. 

“You don’t?” He slowly bares her lower body all the way up to her belly button, while pressing hot open-mouthed kisses against her neck. “Let me spell it out for you; I want to fuck you so badly I’m fucking shaking from holding back, okay?” Ben’s hand slides downward again, leaving a trail of liquid heat behind, “But I’m a gentleman… And I need to make sure you want it too. Spread your legs for me, baby.”

Rey’s certain at least one of the three cameras in the room gets a clear shot of her moving legs, and of Ben’s hand instantly slotting itself between them, but for the first time since she got into his bed, she doesn’t worry about being recorded. Ben’s fingers find their way to Rey’s clit, sending crackling sparks of electricity up her spine, and everyone who’s ever going to watch their feature will know that at this precise moment in time, Rey Niima was his, and maybe, just maybe, he was hers, too. 

Let them watch. 

“Can I…” she whispers, “Touch you?” 

He smiles again.

“As much as you like, pet.”

Rey shifts her upper body in Ben’s direction and reaches for him with shivering fingers. Her fingertips glide over the ridges and valleys of his chest and stomach, mapping out the contours that make him him, and Rey truly can’t tell what thrills her more, to have him touching her, or to have his skin underneath her fingertips.

At last. 

“Lower,” he murmurs. 

Rey’s head spins, as her hand hesitantly moves down his body. She doesn’t dare to look, but her fingers find a trail of fuzz from his belly button that disappears under his underwear. Ben’s already dark eyes turn bottomless.

“Lower.” 

It’s like that split-second before you dive into cold water. The anticipation, the excitement, the holy-crap-there’s-no-turning-back once you’ve already started to fall, and Rey gasps, audibly gasps, as her hand slides over the length of him. 

“Let me help you with those,” Ben mutters.

His hand disappears from her, but Rey hardly registers the loss of it, because she’s busy processing what’s underneath the boxers Ben hurries to pull down his legs. Her hand freezes tentatively in the air as he undresses, and Rey doesn’t know where to put it once he fully returns to her side.

“Here.” He chuckles and catches her hand.

With his physical prompting, Rey’s fingers wrap around him, and it’s like touching warm silk wrapped over steel. He doesn’t let go, he guides Rey’s hand into a slow pumping movement, one that sets the insides of her thighs on fire. 

Other parts of her, more specifically her brain, reacts differently, though. 

Rey’s seen his videos, and she has always known he’s proportionate, but this ? She wasn’t prepared for this.  

“How will it…” 

“Fit?” Ben fills in with a grin, “I’ll make it fit.”

He kisses her then, and the hand that just showed hers how to move wraps over her throat instead. His hold of her isn’t tight enough to hurt, but it is firm enough to keep her right where he wants her - impossibly close and with her fingers around his cock, and Rey would happily stay there for the rest of her life. She catches his content sighs between her lips, greedily, and she knows, she knows, now more than ever, that she won’t ever be able to satisfy her hunger for him. 

“You’re an eager little thing, aren’t you?” he says, with her teeth half-sunken into his bottom lip. 

“I’m sorry—”

“Don’t be.” Another kiss. “I like you needy.” 

Oh, she’s needy alright. Desperate, even. 

“I’m gonna eat you out now.”

He sits up, and Rey’s heart bolts. She’s fantasized about his mouth on her for months.

“You don’t…” she mumbles as he kisses his way down her body, “H-have to.”

“Nonsenses.” He tugs her nightgown upward, yanking it off of her. “I’ve been looking forward to it all week.” 

Big hands push her thighs to the sides, determinedly, as if he wouldn’t take no for an answer before he sinks between her knees. It’s a mystery how that massive body of his manages to curl and bend in order to stay in bed, but it’s not one that Rey bothers to solve, because he’s nudging her clit with the tip of his stupidly perfect nose in a silent demand for a better angle. 

“There you go.”

“Fuck!” Rey wheezes at the first stroke of his tongue. 

It’s nothing like she’d imagined it to be. 

Instead, it’s hot and wet and soft and hard and strange and amazing and Rey’s back arches without her asking it to and she doesn’t know whether it’s to get even closer or to get away or maybe it’s both or possibly neither but nothing has felt like this before. 

“God,” she whimpers, “Fucking hell.”

It’s the closest to heaven she's ever going to get. 

For a minute.

But then, he teasingly dips his finger half an inch into her, before pulling it back again, and Rey’s body twists in something that’s part pleasure, part pure agony.

“I— I need—” It’s little more than a feverish ramble, “Please…”

He laughs without moving away from her, and Rey can feel how smug he is. Bloody bastard.

“No,” he murmurs, “you’ll have to wait a bit longer. Do you wanna come though?” 

“Y-yeah,” Rey exhales, “but… I need—”

“What do you need?” 

Rey blushes. He knows exactly what she needs.

“Something…” 

This time, he pushes that finger a full inch into her, far enough to lure her into thinking that he won’t stop, won’t retreat, won’t leave her achingly empty, and when he does, a broken wail claws its way out of her. 

“Sugar,” he chuckles, “you sound like a goddamn animal in heat.”

Another long stroke of his tongue.

“Fucking tastes like one too.”

His tongue moves slowly and with a new-found purpose as if the taste of her truly is a curiosity to him, an unexpected treat that he hadn’t expected. 

The impulse to buck against his face in a desperate urge for more is almost impossible to ignore, but Rey’s determined to give him whatever he wants, and right now, he seems to be set on torturing her to the brink of insanity, so she keeps unmoving while the sound of her labored breaths fills the room. 

“God,” he grunts against her, “I need you to come now, so I can fill you up. Alright?” 

Rey nods frantically.

“Good girl.” 

There are no fingers where she needs them to be, but the way he works her up by methodically increasing both the pressure and the pace is nothing short of astonishing. It’s irresistible, the way he pulls her to the edge, and when he pushes her over it, stars bloom against the insides of her eyelids, like freaking fireworks on the Fourth of July. 

“I want you.” 

Rey’s too drunk and dazed to think before she responds.

“Just me?” 

Ben crawls up her body like a ravenous creature from a long-forgotten folktale.

“Just you.”

His growl vibrates through Rey, and whatever abashment she once felt, is now long gone.

“Prove it.” 

***

She does nothing to help him keep his cool. On the contrary, it’s as if she’s looking for trouble.

Their mouths crash together, her fingers dig into his shoulders, tight enough to sting, and Ben groans against her lips. His cock twitches against her soft stomach, and her hips push upward. She’s as ready as she ever will be. 

Ben rips himself out of her grip, and the way her expression grows feral hits him straight in the gut. 

“On your knees.” 

She huffs but doesn’t object. Her slender body flips over, and Ben helps her to her knees by pulling her backward by her hips. 

He needs every last bit of his fraying self-restraint to not immediately push inside of her, but as much as he’s enjoying himself, this is still his job, and there are his fans to consider. This is the part they’re all waiting for, and it needs to be done right. 

Rey rests her weight on her hands as well, and Ben kneels in the space between her knees. Her back arches without his prompting, and Ben rubs his groin against her sex, while still holding on to her hips. 

“Do you feel how badly I want you?” 

“Y-yes…” 

“So fucking bad…”  

Another sound escapes her, broken and desperate, and her head drops as if she doesn’t have the strength to hold it up any longer. 

That won’t do. 

Ben sinks his fingers into her hair, grabs hold of as much of it as he can, and tugs her head back up. 

“Let them see your face, pet.” 

Ben’s already looking forward to the editing process when he can see exactly what she looked like when he fucked her. 

He aligns himself with one hand in her hair, and the other firmly wrapped around his dick. He slides the tip of him across her clit a few times, before gliding it up to her drenched entrance. 

She’s already panting, and he hasn’t even begun to push into her warmth. 

“You want me to fuck you now?” 

“Yes!”

“Beg for it.”

He usually doesn’t do this, he usually doesn’t make his girls beg, but Rey’s different. He needs to hear her ask for it. 

“Kylo…” Her whine is high-pitched and breathy. “Please…” 

His dick throbs so hard in his fist that he might just blow his load all over her ass. 

“Please, what?” he demands, “Say it.” 

She tries to drop her head again, possibly to hide her embarrassment, and a thrill runs through Ben as the fingers he’s kept in her hair stop her movement. Don’t try me, dollface. 

“Please,” she half-whispers, “Please, fuck me…” 

“That’s my baby,” Ben coos, “All polite and well-mannered…” 

A shiver runs through her at his praise, and Ben decides it’s time to give in, to give her what she came for. 

To claim her.

He doesn’t push more than his tip inside of her, yet the flood of sensations that races up his nervous system is almost too much to process. Ben’s hand moves from his dick to her hip, to make sure she doesn’t take matters into her own hands (well… hips) before he sinks the tiniest bit further into her.

Rey jerks, but his hands once more ensure that she stays right where he wants her, and when she can’t shift away from him, her cunt squeezes together, in an attempt to stop his intrusion. 

She’s impossibly tight. And shivering.

Ben should show her the kindness of simply snapping his hips forward, to make sure she isn’t uncomfortable for a second longer than what’s strictly necessary, but his fans like it when— 

Who does he think he’s fooling?

It’s Ben who’s disturbed enough to like it when the girls hurt a tiny little bit before he makes them come screaming his name. 

So, he takes his time as he pushes forward, while Rey’s cunt clamps down around him. She moans and whimpers, and her entire body stiffens until it’s as tense as a string about to snap, but even though she’s clearly struggling, she says nothing that sounds even remotely close to pineapple. 

The sight of her glistening cunt straining around him, as he slowly fills her up, is a visual that’s nothing short of maddening. 

“Fuck!” she hisses, “I can’t! I can’t, it won’t work!”

“Easy, it’s alright.” A panic attack is the last thing she needs, and Ben releases her hair to help her calm down. “Try to relax for me.”

“I can’t, I just can’t…” she repeats with a small shake of her head, “There’s something wrong… w-with me.”

“No.” Ben runs his free hand down her shoulders. “There’s nothing wrong with you, sweetheart. You’re perfect.”

His hand moves over to her other hip, where it mirrors his right, and grabs hold of her. 

“Just a bit more.” Ben rubs circles with his thumbs just below the dimples on her lower back. “Take a breath.” 

Rey inhales sharply, and at her next exhale, it’s as if some of the tension in her body melts away. 

“That’s it,” Ben hums, “you’re doing so well, you know? A bit more…” 

Ben’s made it halfway, and her body’s still trying to force him to retreat, squeezing down so hard that he can feel her muscles spasm around his dick, but he knows it’s just a matter of seconds until she’ll finally surrender. Until she’s fully his, if only just for today.

All she needs is that one last push. 

“Come on, pet,” he coaxes, “I can’t make you my baby mama unless I get to fuck you properly.” 

***

It’s inhuman, the sound she makes, and she doesn’t care. More liquid heat rushes to her core, and while the stretch still hurts, it’s not at all the same. 

“There you go, there you go…” 

Rey can’t tell if something within her actually breaks, or if it just feels that way, but after a last sharp pang of pain, the rest of him glides in effortlessly. 

“Holy shit,” Rey half-sobs, “oh, fuck…”

“That’s it, baby, that’s it… God, you feel amazing.”

Ben pulls out, reburies his hand in her hair to hoist her head back up, and pushes inside again. 

The sensation of him filling her up is all-consuming and this precise moment in time is all there is, with his firm fingers in her hair and around her hip. 

“Just look at her.” Ben’s voice is thick with awe, and Rey needs a second to realize he’s hyping her up to the cameras. She had forgotten about those. “Look at this fucking ass.” 

Rey’s not proud to admit it, but whenever he says anything, Rey loses another shred of her sanity. 

And dignity.

There’s absolutely nothing left of her dignity. 

She no longer cares about what she might look like, even though her face must be flushed and her jaw probably hangs slack because she just needs him to go on and not fucking stop—

“No!” she snaps, when he pulls out entirely. 

Rey drops to her right elbow and turns to her side to stare Ben down, quite possibly with a scowl all over her face.

“Oh, feisty!” He grins. “Don’t worry, Princess, I’m not done with you yet.”

***

There are so many things he’d like to do to her, he could teach her how to blow him off, or investigate how many of his fingers she could fit inside of her, or figure out if she would enjoy getting that perfect cunt of hers slapped bright pink… but, he’s reaching the end of his rope, and if he’s not careful, he might make a fool out of himself and ruin the feature. 

That death glare alone is all the confirmation Ben needs, she won’t be happy if he fails to stick the landing.

“Come here.”

Ben swings his long legs over the edge of the bed, stands up on the floor, grabs her by the ankles, and pulls her toward him. 

“Hey!” she half-yelps, half-giggles, and flips over to her back. 

“I just wanna look at your face now, okay?” Ben hums as his hands follow the outline of her waist and hips. 

She could give him a whiplash, with the sudden shifts in her demeanor. Her expression, which was livid just seconds ago, melts into something almost shy as she processes his words. 

“Alright.” The tiniest hint of a smile tugs at the corners of her kiss-swollen lips. 

Ben adjusts his grip, grabs her by her knees instead, and pulls her all the way down to him, where he steps in between her thighs. 

“Do you know what we’re gonna do now?” he asks, in the same tone one might use to discuss the weather, but while sliding the tip of his dick up and down in the slippery heat between her folds. 

“N-no?” 

Her gaze flickers between his face, and the ceiling, as if she doesn’t have it in her to keep eye contact with him for more than half a second at the time. 

“It’s time…” Ben pushes into her, but only just enough to make her gasp in anticipation. “to get you pregnant.” 

Her eyes grow wide, and the color of her already flushed cheeks deepens. 

Just when he thought she couldn’t get any prettier.

“Oh.” 

“Yep.” Ben sinks further into her while helping her wrap her ridiculously long legs around his hips. “I’m gonna fill you up. Properly.”

Rey whimpers and squeezes her eyes shut. 

If Ben didn’t know any better, he’d say she might be… a bit into this? 

No, he must be projecting. 

Or perhaps not.

Fortune favors the bold, right?

“You’re gonna look gorgeous,” Ben slides one hand to her stomach, pushing down ever so slightly just below her belly button, “with a bump.” 

Her hands fly to cover her face.

“Oh God…” she wheezes against her palm. 

That settles it. Benjamin Solo officially is the luckiest man in the world. 

“No, no, no.” Ben reaches for her wrists and pins them down against the mattress. “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetie. It’s okay. It’s what you were meant to do…”

Ben fucks her deep and slow, and she gulps for air as if he’s drowning her. He’s never seen anyone look as beautiful as she does with her freckled chest heaving, and her dark hair in a tasseled halo spread over his sheets. 

“You were meant to have my babies,” Ben rumbles next to her ear, close enough to see the skin of her shoulder pebble.

“Yes!” 

“Fuck, you’re so fucking wet for me, Kira. Jesus Christ…” 

Ben clenches his jaw. His balls are so tight they ache, but he wants to watch her come again before he finishes. 

He’s a gentleman, after all. 

***

The steady beat is hypnotic, and every snap of his hips sends shock waves up Rey’s spine. He presses her wrists into the mattress, perhaps to make sure she won’t try to hide from him again, before he runs them down her body. 

“Here’s what’s gonna happen…” Ben murmurs, while finding her clit with his devilishly nimble fingers, “You’re gonna come on my cock, and then I’m gonna come inside of you. How does that sound?” 

“G-good,” Rey stutters, “Sounds go— oh— ”

His free hand once more gently pushes down against the soft flesh of Rey’s stomach.

“Do you feel that?” 

She doesn’t feel anything else, all she knows is the now amplified feeling of him being everywhere. 

Rey nods and quite possibly rambles something unintelligible. 

“I wanna—” Ben cuts himself off, and Rey steals a peek at his face. 

He’s looking like a predator, ready to pounce.

“You want what?” Rey gasps. 

“I wanna… no, I’m going to tie you the fuck down,” he states without breaking their eye contact, “and take you again and again and again until I’m sure it sticks.” 

He doesn’t need to specify what he means by it. Something ancient awakens inside of Rey, filling her entire being with the deepest, most desperate desire she’s ever known, and it’s not even for her own completion, even though his clever fingers and hard dick are swiftly working her towards it, but for his. 

“Please,” she breathes, “please, please, please…” 

“You’re being so good, so perfect…” 

“Kylo, please…”

She’s being pulled under, crushed by the waves he creates inside of her body, in the most delicious way imaginable. Perhaps dying is a little bit like this, Rey briefly wonders, with the fragments of a person falling away, until there’s nothing but ecstasy left. 

It’s her last conscious thought before her mind loses itself in the onslaught of stimuli. 

“That’s it, mama,” he coaxes, “that’s it.” 

“Fuck… I—” 

“Yes, baby, come on, come for me…” 

***

“I want you to— ah!” Rey chokes out, “I want you to come inside of me, please, please…”

Her cunt clamps down around him, and Ben almost drops to the floor. 

“Don’t worry, I will. I promise I’ll come inside of you.” 

“Promise?”

“There’s nowhere else I'd rather come.” 

“Kylo, Kylo, Kylo…” she rambles, “Oh, fuck!” 

Watching her climax would be enough to get him off, even without the extra pressure it adds around his dick. Ben fucks her through it, with sweat dripping down his back, and when she’s too overwhelmed to allow his fingers to keep on touching her, he grabs her by her thighs and spreads her wide open. 

Rey’s eyes roll back under her fluttering lids, and Ben increases the pace, going harder and faster than he’s dared to do before. 

And lord fucking help him if she doesn’t take it perfectly. 

She’s a squirming and whimpering mess beneath him, all slick and heat and so goddamn ready and Ben didn’t even make it up when he said she tasted like she’s in heat because she bloody smells like it too, and he’s going to fill her cunt up to the brim… 

“Come inside of me,” she whines, “please.” 

And the world whites out, as he roars. 

Ben wants to kick his former self, for giving Rey the same information he gives to all of the girls; it’s not a date, and you won’t spend the night. He’s such a massive idiot. 

But she’s already taken another shower, dressed, and, worst of all, swallowed that stupid pill he provided her with. She’s now busy tying her shoelaces, and Ben’s about to drive her over to her hotel. 

“All set?” he asks.

“Sure,” she smiles tentatively.

The car ride is a bit awkward, but not unbearably so. 

“Do you think…” she mumbles, “they’ll like it?”

“Oh, they’ll like it, I promise.” 

“Good. That’s good.” 

“Are you alright?” 

“That’s the tenth time you’ve asked me that.” 

“Just checking.” 

“I know.” She brushes her hand against his in the faintest of touches. “Thank you.” 

Ben helps her with her bags and kisses her cheek. 

This is the terms they’d agreed upon. Because he’s an idiot.

“Bye, Ben.”

“Bye, Rey.”

She smiles again, but it doesn’t reach her eyes, before turning towards the hotel. Ben watches her rush through the rain, and as she disappears behind the sliding glass doors, there’s only one thought bouncing around in his head:

There she goes.
The end of my career.

Chapter Text

Ben would lie if he said he never jerks off while editing, but it’s usually never more than once during the entire process. 

But, this time, he’s just barely sorted his way through the photos from Rey’s feature and his dick is already twitching. Ben can’t blame the poor thing though, not when some pictures show Rey looking at him with big eyes full of fear but also a delicious sense of trust, while others show her stiff nipples straining against the lace slip, and of course, by the end of the session, pictures that portray his fingers kneading the swell of her ass. In truth, Ben’s dick would most likely be broken, if it didn’t react the way it does. He needs two days to finish the editing process, and his dick is left bloody raw by the end of day two. 

By God, he can’t even think about the look she has on her face when he pushed into her without getting hard again, and he could probably come untouched if he just kept on looking at the last few minutes of their encounter, where she begged him, literally begged him to come inside of her. 

Lord, he wants to do it again. 

Spread her open, eat her out, and then fill her up… he should’ve tied her down, like he told her he would. Ben rewinds the feature, and finds the exact moment when she demanded to know what it was he was about to say before he cut himself off.

“I wanna… no, I’m going to tie you the fuck down,” Ben’s voice trickles through his headphones, “and take you again and again and again until I’m sure it sticks.”

The video shows Rey's fingers clawing the linens above her head, and her breathless whimpers fill Ben’s brain until there’s not a sane thought left inside of it. 

Pleasepleasepleaseplease

“Fucking hell,” Ben grunts as he shoves his hand into his pants for the fourteenth time in 48 hours, “fuck.”

***

It’s Monday, and it’s been two days since Rey lost her virginity. She can’t fully wrap her head around what transpired between her and Ben, but her body remembers. A soft ache lingers deep in her core, a secret no one but Rey knows about, and she wishes the slight sting could stay with her forever, as a permanent reminder that he was hers for a few moments.

Rey sighs and tries to refocus on her computer and the Excel spreadsheet she’s trying to finish, but it’s in vain. 

She’d give a leg to relive it all again. To be covered under his weight, to feel his murmurs rather than hear them, to swim in the sensations of his touch, to be wrapped in his arms afterwards, once it’s all been said and done… Rey’s chest fills with warmth, as the memory of Ben’s lips sprinkling featherlight kisses across her temple and jaw floats to the surface. That had been her favorite part. The way he’d made her feel almost—

But Rey isn’t stupid. Inexperienced, undeniably yes, but not stupid. She even knows there’s a specific term for the post-madness affection he’d shown her; aftercare. 

The heat in her chest freezes to solid ice, as her mind continues to wander. She’s seen him fuck countless women, but it’s the things that happened between Ben and those women after the cameras stopped rolling that bothers her. Did he gently brush stray hairs out of their faces too? 

Of course, he did. 

Rey clenches her jaw. Maybe she is stupid, after all. Stupid for hoping there had been something other than kindness and professionalism in the way he’d covered her with a blanket before he moved around the room to turn the cameras off. Rey sighs loudly enough for her cubicle-neighbor to lean back in his chair, so that he can get a visual of her.

“You okay?” Finn asks.

“Peachy,” Rey retorts without looking away from her screen.

“You seem… distracted?” 

“It’s nothing.” 

Finn’s just about to say something else, when Rey’s phone dings. Rey more or less attacks the gadget, so eager to see what the text says that she almost drops her phone to the floor. 

“Ah,” Finn hums triumphantly, “You got boy-trouble, as I suspected. I’ll leave you to it.” 

“I don’t!” Rey objects, but Finn only winks, and disappears behind the cubicle wall. 

Ben/Kylo 

Hi. I just wanted to check in. Are you still onboard? If so, the feature will go live on Saturday, and I’ll start promoting it today. /B

Rey stares at the words without truly understanding them. Is she still onboard? The experience had been mind blowing, even life changing, but does she really want people to look at her… unravel? Parts of her scream no, but there’s other parts of her, and not only the ones that wish to please Ben, that whisper… why not? 

It’s not proper.

It’s disgusting.

It’s nothing but a cry for attention.

But… Rey’s not sure if any of those reasons are grounded in her, or if they’re just echoes of the opinions of others. 

“I can smell your brain sizzling from over here,” Finn announces, “Do you need help? I’m good with boys.”

Finn is the only person at the office that Rey can remotely stand, but they’re not close enough to be considered real-life friends. She has never been to his apartment, nor met the boyfriend he always talks about, even though they’ve been working next to each other for the past two years, and Rey fears she’d give the man a stroke if she confessed that her issues aren’t boy-related, but adult content-related. 

“I don’t need help, thank you,” Rey mutters, “And, you’re good with one boy. You’ve been with Poe for so long the others don’t even count anymore.” 

“Hey!” 

“I’m sorry.” Rey chuckles. “I’ll let you know if I need help.” 

Rey nibbles on her lip for a few seconds. If she pulls the plug now… she’ll never find out if the masses would enjoy her… show or not. And… isn’t there a streak of curiosity, mingled in the many reasons to say no?

She made it this far, didn’t she? 

Hi. I’m still onboard. Thank you for checking in.

Ben/Kylo

Of course. You’re always free to back out, remember that. 

I will. Thanks.

Ben/Kylo

You’re going to break the internet though. 

Rey blushes and once more tries to remember that he’s like this with everyone. It’s his job to flirt. 

Fingers crossed, I guess 🙃

The rest of the afternoon passes in a haze, and once Rey’s back home again, she forces herself to cook dinner, take a shower and watch an old episode of Scrubs, before she taps the JustFans-icon on her screen. She doesn’t follow anyone but the Fitness guru-lady, and of course Kylo, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise to find her own face as soon as the app opens, but it does. 

It’s a decent picture, all and all. She doesn’t quite look like herself, she’s looking prettier than she does in real life, but Rey supposes Ben might’ve edited it a little. Or perhaps it’s just the lighting and her white outfit that make her appear almost… ethereal. 

Tune in on Saturday, to watch the deflowering of an English rose. 

Rey’s heart bolts. It’s happening. It’s really happening.

Fuck. She’s an idiot. 

Rey scrolls down to the comments section.

J.K561 3h
She’s stunning 😍

DukeNut455 2h
Can’t wait.

TheOG890 2h
🥵🥵🥵

Jennnnnie666 1h
Ooooooooo this will be gooood

They go on and on, and Rey isn’t proud to admit it, but she reads every single comment before she goes to bed. She’s never received even a fraction of the compliments these strangers are pouring over her, and her cheeks feel as if they’re glowing in the dark. Just before she puts her phone away, her eyes catch onto a reply to one of the comments.

Huxxxxxxxxx111 2h
Ren you bastard 😤 Was she a good girl? 

         Kylo_Ren001 1h
             The _best_ girl. 

“It’s his job,” Rey mutters, “it’s just his job…” 

***

Ben checks the number that’s steadily rising within the red circle on top of his JustFans-app. He’s not surprised, even though he did abandon his usual way of promoting new girls (by releasing photos that grow sultrier with every passing day), and instead dropped the video of Rey showing the camera her positive ovulation-test with the caption:

You definitely don’t wanna miss this one… 

Wonderb00b457 1min
Breeding?!?!?!?!!!!!!?!?!,!! 

TimC322 1min
Yesssssssssss

Viktorrrr009 1min
Get her knocked up asap 

Ben grins. People are predictable. 

***

It’s Saturday, and in a few days, Rey’s special will be all but forgotten, and Ben’s fans will be obsessing over whatever girl he has lined up next. 

She’s not overly excited about Ben sleeping with a new girl, but it’s a relief to know her part in this circus will be over soon. Rey’s not sure if her nervous system could survive this amount of anxiety and stress for much longer. 

Although, it’s not all negative, some of those intense emotions simmer with something else, too. Validation, maybe. Or perhaps it’s pride. Or it might even be something more sinister, a smug feeling of saying fuck you to everyone who made her feel small and insignificant during her youth. 

Because she is breaking the internet.

Ben’s account has exploded, he’s gained thousands of new followers the past few days, and the comments sections below her pictures are now too long to read from start to finish. People didn’t even react poorly when Kylo announced that this week’s Saturday special would cost 3 times as much as they usually do to unlock. His fans simply stated that it was fair, since Ren’s planning on treating them with something so special. 

She’s what’s so special. 

Rey chews a chip off her nail. Lord, she better not disappoint any of them… Maybe they’ll make Ben’s life miserable, and try to ask for their money back, if she doesn’t deliver? 

Ben/Kylo

Are you ready? 

What if they’ll hate it?

Ben/Kylo

They won’t. I promise. 

I guess I’m as ready as I’ll ever be

Ben/Kylo

That’s the spirit.

A few minutes pass, and then… 

Ben/Kylo

It’s live. 

***

Ben’s never experienced such a surge before. Usually, the statistics show that people tend to watch his specials during the evenings even though he releases the videos during the Saturday afternoons, but today… it’s as if they’ve been waiting. The amount of views on his feature with Rey skyrockets instantly, and the hits just keep rising. It’s almost as if everyone’s as perverted as Ben is. 

His phone rings, effectively yanking Ben out of his head.

“Hello?”

“It’s me.” 

“Hi, Dameron. What’s up?” 

“Congrats on your current success,” Poe says, “I’m just calling because you haven’t given me any updates on your future collabs, and there’s like three girls in your DM’s you haven’t talked to yet.” 

Ben tries to sigh as silently as humanly possible, but Poe appears to be blessed with a bat-like hearing.

“Benjamin?” Poe prompts in a tone that greatly reminds Ben of how his mother sounds whenever she’s disappointed in him. 

“I just need a break from making new content.”

“Oh. Alright. For how long?”

“I don’t know… A few weeks?”

“Do you have any pre recorded material to share in the meantime?” 

“Um.” Ben wonders if it would be rude if he just dunked his phone into the toilet. “No.” 

“So… Our livelihood..?” 

“Are you seeing the numbers this one’s pulling? We’re good for a while.” 

Poe doesn’t try to suppress his sigh, if anything, he might even be exaggerating it. 

“And what about your fan base, Benjamin? You’re planning on letting it die, just because you have a crush on your latest coworker?” 

“I do not have a—”

“Oh, please, shut up.” Poe snorts. “This is an actual caption, written by you: ‘Still getting all tingly when I think about those doe eyes.’”

“So?” 

“You run a porn account, Ben! Porn. You sound like a romance writer, and not the good kind, a terrible one.”

“People loved that one,” Ben huffs.

“They loved the prospect of watching you fuck the shit out of a girl with a great ass, they’re not following you for your goddamn captions.” 

Ben’s fingers tighten around his phone.

“Don’t talk about her that way.”

“See?” Poe exclaims, “This is what I’m talking about! If you don’t wanna fuck around anymore, I guess that’s your call, but the account will suffer for it, and I need to know if I should look for a new job.” 

“You’re being over dramatic,” Ben mutters, “I just need a break, okay?” 

“Alright. But I need you to tell me if I need to go somewhere else.”

“Of course. Think of this as a little vacation.”

“Ben…” Poe sighs again. “My job is to answer your DM’s… You think I’m going to be doing that less, if you suddenly stop posting?” 

***

Rey isn’t planning on watching her own feature, just hearing regular recordings of her voice tend to send her into a spiral of humiliation, but she had no illusions she would be able to stay away from the comments section, and it’s an absolute mayhem. 

BigT768 1min
This is your finest work

Kittheman999 3min
Cant type all blood gone

B00b811 5min
Her face when you took that innocence 🫠

Rey blushes, but she can’t stop scrolling, and while she knows she should feel appalled by how some commentators make it sound like she’s… a thing, rather than a person, she just… isn’t. 

If she has to be perfectly honest, she might even feel a tiny bit… turned on? 

It’s just further proof of what she already knew. That she isn’t… quite right in the head. 

Ivan_901 1h
She seems feral

Gaby388 1h
The way you look at her 🥹

         Isa231 1h
            I noticed that too! So cute. 

The way he looks at her? Rey reads those two comments over and over, until her subconscious takes over, and her thumb moves without Rey’s explicit permission. 

It’s almost impossibly embarrassing to keep her eyes at her screen, but Rey’s desperate to see what the commentators were talking about, and she allows the clip to keep on rolling even though it physically hurts to watch. At first, at least.

Soon, she’s almost forgotten that it’s her that’s getting fingered, eaten out, taken, because she can’t tear her eyes off Ben. Or, in this instance, Kylo. He truly did look at her. 

Rey stares at her screen as Kylo’s hand sinks back into her hair, hoisting her head up, and his other hand clutches her hip, keeping her in place. She’d felt so vulnerable, yet so immensely powerful, in that exact moment, and it’s a contradiction Rey has no explanation for. But she can’t see a reason to unwrap her possibly disturbed sexual preferences, not when the tingle in Rey’s thighs is intensifying with every passing second, quickly dissolving all of her cognitive functions until there’s nothing less but instincts.

Rey’s phone buzzes, startling her, and it jumps like a wet bar of soaps between her hands for a few seconds, before she can catch it and open the text. 

Ben/Kylo 

Told you they’d love it

“It’s just his job, just his job, just his job…” 

***

Ben stares at his ceiling. He’s been lying on his couch for God knows how long, paralyzed with guilt. He should be planning his next feature, no, he should be posting his next collab, but he hasn’t even reached out to any of the girls that sent him DM’s yet. His JustFans account is now flooded with messages and comments asking where he’s gone, and when there’ll be new content, and Ben just… can’t be bothered with it. He doesn’t even open the app anymore, because all he’ll find is another reason to feel bad.

He doesn’t mind making content, not at all, but he… He doesn’t want to make it with anyone other than Rey, but he’ll mess up his entire brand if he asks her to join him again. Maybe he should just give it up, and quit. He had planned to save up a bit more first, but he’s had a good run, and he could easily get by for at least a year. 

Then again, there’s Poe to consider. 

Poe, who quit his former job to come work full time with Ben, under the premise that he’d have an income for as long as there’s virgins left alive. 

“Fucking hell…” Ben groans. 

“What’s up, Benji?” 

Ben snaps upright, instantly prepared to fight whoever the intruder might be, but it’s just Poe, kicking his shoes off.

“You should start locking the door,” Dameron states.

“And you should try knocking,” Ben mutters and plops back onto his back. 

“Nah. What’s up, big guy?” Poe throws himself on the other end of Ben’s leather couch. 

“Nothing.”

“Are you depressed?”

“No.”

“You look depressed. Kinda smells like it, too.” 

“I don’t smell,” Ben grumbles, “and I’m not depressed.”

“Whatever you say, superstar.” Poe waves one hand dismissively. “Do you wanna know why I’m here?” 

“Sure.” 

“I’m here because it’s been ten days since you posted anything. I think your agent slash ghostwriter slash fairy godmother needs to give you a kick in that pancake-shaped ass of yours.” 

“So you’re here to kick me?” 

“Yes.” Poe sniffs. “Preferably metaphorically, but I’m not beyond literal ass kicks, if that’s what it takes.”

“Takes to do what?” 

“To snap you out of… whatever this is.” 

“‘This’ is nothing.”

“It’s a pity party, Benny. Your mother would be ashamed.”

“Shut up,” Ben grunts.

“You know I’m right.” 

Well, he’s not wrong, but…

“Just kick my ass already, and leave.” 

“Fine, Mr. Sunshine,” Poe chirps, “I heard you claim you’d never get another job as long as your balls aren’t touching the floor just one month ago, and that makes me think you’re not tired of fucking in front of cameras… So I’m sticking to my first analysis; you have a crush on the British girl.”

Ben huffs something unintelligible and returns to staring at the ceiling. 

“I’ll take that as a yes. And as far as I can tell there’s two ways to handle the situation. A) You lie here and wait for it to go away, and hope your fans will still be willing to pay their monthly fee even though you haven’t given them anything for a small eternity…”

Yep, that’s the one Ben’s going with. 

“Or…” Poe sits up straighter. “You’ll give them what they want.” 

“What they want is watching me fuck a new girl every week.” 

“Wrong.” Poe triumphantly hauls his phone out of his pocket. “Have you been reading any of the comments recently?”

“No.” 

“Allow me.” Poe clears his throat, before reading: “‘Did it stick?’, ‘Update pls’, ‘She must know by now, right?’, ‘I need to know!’, ‘Is she knocked up?’, ‘What’s going on?’, and then there’s this one; ‘Did it take? If not, you need to duck her again.’” Poe pauses for a second. “I think he meant fu—”

“I know what he meant,” Ben snaps.

“Alright, anyways,” Poe pouts, “to that comment, the one that said you should ‘duck’ her again… there’s two hundred and twenty four replies that all basically say ‘agreed’.” 

Ben’s still facing the ceiling, but he’s no longer glaring at it as if it’s personally responsible for ruining his life. 

“Go on.”

“So, let’s explore option B)… and lean into it.”

“Into what exactly?”

“Your obsession with this girl.” Poe’s hands fly out in a gesture conveying something along the lines of how-slow-can-person-be. “I’ve done some research. One of the hottest things in self-made porn right now is pet play.”

Ben frowns. 

“I’m not planning on fucking animals.”

“God, help me.” Poe sighs. “It doesn’t include actual pets, idiot. It’s kind of similar to a good ol’ bdsm-relationship, with some soft dom/sub dynamics. If you were to have a… say a pet wife…”

A pet… wife?

Ben turns to Poe, suddenly eager to hear what he’s about to say next. 

“She would move into your home, and you would 

be obligated to cuddle with her, pamper her, spoil her rotten…” Poe shrugs. “And she would happily let you fuck her whenever you wanted to.” 

Ben can practically hear a choir of angels in the background, if only for a second, before the harshness of reality strikes again.

“That’s not my brand.” 

“No…” Poe agrees, “And you’ll undoubtedly lose a few fans, but not as many as you’ll lose if you just walk away from all of this.” 

The angels sing once more, for two full seconds before reality slams the door to their dimension shut again. 

“She’d never agree to that.” 

“Are you sure?” Poe leans forward. “She seemed… extraordinarily enthusiastic during your little get-together. She did make doe eyes whenever she looked at you.”

It should perhaps be awkward, the fact that Poe watches all of Ben’s content in order to be able to pretend to be Ben in his DM’s, but they've been in the business for so long they no longer remember why it should be weird to discuss the ins-and-outs of Ben’s career. 

“I don’t know…” Ben mumbles.

“The video of you two has gotten the most engagement out of anything you’ve ever shared. People want to watch you pretend-knock her up all over again.” 

Ben scrunches his nose. It’s a compelling idea, to say the very least, but what if he offends her…

“You should at least call her and ask,” Poe states.

“Should I?”

“Do you wanna fuck her again?”

“Of course.”

“Then man the fuck up, and call her.”

Chapter Text

“Ah, Miss Niima, please, have a seat.” Rey’s boss, a woman in her late fifties with sharp glasses, gestures to a chair next to her desk. 

Rey nervously sits down. She can’t remember if she’s ever been inside her boss’s office before, and the fake leather underneath her thighs squeaks a protest. 

“How can I help you?” 

“Um.” Rey can feel her armpits dampen. “I— I need some time—”

“Is everything alright?” Mrs. Sanders' forehead furrows. 

“Yes.” Rey wants to bite her tongue off. “I mean, no, not really. My… grandmother has passed away.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry to hear that.” 

“And I need to go back home to help my… aunt.” People have aunts, right? “You know, with the funeral and the house…” 

“And by back home you mean..?”

“England, yes.” Rey lies with as much confidence as she can muster.

“I understand, although… I don’t know if I can spare you for very long?”

“If it’s okay with you, I was thinking I could bring my computer and work from home?”

Mrs. Sanders’ face lights up.

“Oh, that’s an excellent idea. How long do you need?”

Rey swallows. How long does she need to participate in the naughty play pretend scenario Ben proposed to her yesterday? 

“Two weeks, perhaps?” 

“That sounds reasonable,” Mrs. Sanders hums. “It is a long journey after all. And if you need more time, just give me a call, alright?” 

“Thank you.”

Rey gets on her feet and walks toward the door on legs that might be visibly shaking. Just as she reaches the door, Mrs. Sanders clears her throat. Rey momentarily freezes, before she turns around. 

“I’m sorry for your loss, Miss Niima.”

“Oh.” Rey forces her face into a sad smile she hopes to be appropriate for the situation. “Thank you, Mrs. Sanders.” 

Rey repeats her lie to Finn, packs her things, and leaves the building through its sliding glass doors. It’s sunny outside, yet the air is crisp and clear.

A perfect day for a new beginning. 

Rey never thought hers would entail her throwing herself deeper into the world of pornography, but didn’t Gandhi or Oprah or whoever it was say that’s the beauty of life? That you never know where the road will take you. 

Rey’s new path will lead her to Ben, if only for a little while, and it might even be what she needs to cure her obsession with him. If it doesn’t, well… that’s an issue for future-Rey to deal with. 

Rey catches her train, and it’s packed with people going to work, to visit their mothers, to attend actual funerals, while Rey sinks into her seat with her untellable secret warming her from the inside out. With her back firmly pressed against the window, and with fingers trembling with excitement, and, to be perfectly honest, dread, Rey once more opens the DM that Ben sent her yesterday.

Hi.

Thank you for being a good sport and not hanging up on me. I understand that this is way out of the box, but the fans would really love it, so I had to at least ask. Anyway, as requested, here’s a bit more information on pet play. This is just the basics pulled off the internet, and we’re free to tweak it however we see fit. 

Rey has already read the attached article at least 10 times, and she’s just skimming through it this time, allowing her eyes to fixate on the part that makes her stomach somersault. 

the owner is obligated to care for their pet, making sure they’re fed, warm, and content

It’ll be as if he loves her.

***

Ben’s staring at his screen, as he has been doing for the past five minutes. If he hits ‘publish’ on the post Dameron has ghostwritten for him, there will be no turning back. Ben could be on the verge of imploding his entire livelihood with the press of a button. 

Ben knows how to fuck virgins. He would even argue he’s rather good at it. 

He doesn’t know how to do… pet play.

“Crap…” he mutters to himself. 

Ben rereads the post one more time.

To my followers 

Thank you for your patience. 

First of all, since a lot of you have asked, I have to tell you that we had no luck conceiving, but the amount of love you showed for Kira’s feature has inspired me to take this account in another direction, and I’m happy to announce that Kira will return to continue our collaboration. 

I hope you will join us on this journey. 

Xoxo, Kylo

“Xoxo?” Ben frowns. “Fucking Dameron.” 

Ben replaces the virtual hugs and kisses with a simple Stay tuned, inhales, and pushes the publish button. He doesn’t have time to second guess himself any longer, because he needs to pick Rey up at the train station. His heart flutters at that. His career might be over, but, at the very least, he’ll be there to enjoy its destruction. 

***

Rey spends the last twenty minutes of her train ride scrolling through the comments on Kylo’s latest JustFans-post. It’s just a black square with white letters announcing her return, but the comments section is still practically exploding with reactions. 

Motherkat 

I’m sorry to hear it didn’t take, buuut DELIGHTED to hear Kira will return for another attempt 🫠🫠🫠 

Kisskissbang

Get it tiger get it get it 

Alphadic 

Idk how I feel about this I’m paying for virgin content 

Brosoverhoes

Youve already done her. She’s used up leftovers 🤮

Rey swallows, but the lump in her throat won’t go away. Her selfishness might ruin Ben’s business, as well as what’s left of her already frail self-esteem. Used up leftovers… Is that what Ben thinks of her, too? He did write that ‘the fans’ would love seeing her again, but he never mentioned how he feels about it. 

Is she being a naive idiot? Probably. But the train won’t turn around just because Rey’s brain suddenly decided to sober up, and a few moments later, it pulls up at the station. Through the window, Rey spots Ben towering above everyone else on the platform, and her cold feet turn blissfully warm along with the rest of her body. 

“Hello.” He smiles and reaches for her bag.

As soon as Ben’s fingers have closed around the handles, he grabs Rey by her upper arm with his free hand and leans down to press a kiss against her forehead. 

“Hi.” 

This will break her somehow, Rey realizes that with perfect clarity, but she smiles nonetheless as Ben holds the car door open for her. 

It won’t hurt today.  

***

“So…” Ben places two steaming hot cups on his kitchen table; black coffee for him, and tea for her, and sits. “I guess we should talk.” 

Rey seems skittish, and her tense smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, but she nods in agreement. Discussing the details of their new arrangement with Rey is a whole different story than doing the same with Dameron, who never as much as bats an eye even when they’re discussing truly ridiculous topics such as which lighting might work best for a pair of swinging balls, because unlike him, Rey twitches whenever Ben asks for her opinion. To her credit, she does speak up, and even though she’s nervous, it’s clear that she wants to be a part of their new project. 

“All of this is new to me as well, but Dameron told me—”

“Who’s Dameron?” 

“Oh, he’s my… I guess he’s my assistant? He helps me organize stuff, and he runs most of the communication with the fan base.”

“I never knew you could work as an assistant to a—” Rey cuts herself off with an apologetic half-smile.

“A what?” Ben chuckles. “To an adult content creator?” 

“Yes. That.” 

“I guess he’s your assistant now as well.” 

The idea of having an adult content creator assistant makes her squirm ever so slightly in her chair, and Ben has to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from jumping her instantly.

He’s a professional. Yes. Professional.  

“I interrupted you, sorry. What did he tell you?” 

“Huh?” Ben blinks as if he just woke up. 

“What did… our assistant tell you?”

“Right. Um, he suggested that you create an account as well.” 

Her cheeks turn crimson.

“Why?” 

Ben fumbles for his words; it’s almost impossible to remember what Poe told him because he can barely think straight with her sitting just a few feet away from him. 

“It’s a fantasy we’re selling,” Ben blurts out. “And even though you’ll of course have to work while we’re doing this, you’re not really supposed to. A… pet wife doesn’t work. And we need to create the illusion that you’re not.” 

“And an account would help with that?” 

Ben wants to kiss the furrows between her eyebrows away. 

God, he needs to get it together.

It’s a job.

To her, it’s a job.  

***

“Yeah.” Ben scratches his neck, and if Rey didn’t know better, she’d say he’s as flustered as she is. “You wouldn’t need to post, like, explicit things… Poe suggested pictures of you—” Ben pauses to clear his throat. “Preparing, I suppose.”

Rey’s mind is struggling to understand what Ben is trying to tell her, and her face must betray her thoughts, because Ben continues;

“It could be a bit more classic, perhaps? Like black-and-white shots of you fixing your hair or rubbing lotion on your legs, you know, just pampering yourself, preferably without too much clothes on.” 

Rey can practically feel the lightbulb go off inside her head.

“We’re selling the idea that you’re away during the day, and I’m just at home, waiting and preparing for you to return?” 

“Yes!” Ben half-sighs in something that could be relief. “Exactly.” 

“Like a proper little pet wife, huh?” 

Rey grins. There’s no question anymore, he is at least a little bit flustered. 

“Yes.” Ben nods under burning ear tips. “Yeah.”

“If you guys think it would be… beneficial, I’m in.” 

“Great. So, that was the first item on the list—”

“I’m sorry, the list?”

“Ah, yes, we do need to give the fans as much variation as we can muster, so Dameron and I discussed possible content, and I wrote it down to remember the suggestions.” 

“Do you mind reading them?” 

Ben shrugs and hauls his phone out of his pocket. He didn’t lie, it’s most definitely a list. A list that sets Rey’s cheeks on fire, and the rest of her body soon follows. 

She can’t for the life of her understand how he can sound so casual while reading words like free use, first blowjob, and first play with toys, or while rambling all the different positions they must make sure to snap photos of her in (and what she should be wearing while doing said posing), but then again, it’s his job. Unlike Rey, he’s in it for the money.

“Marriage-kink, orgasm denial, semi-public, possibly some sort of spanking…” 

The list goes on and on and Rey’s initial embarrassment shifts into a buzzing sensation all along the insides of her thighs. The things he’s planning on doing to her… 

“These are just suggestions, of course,” Ben concludes. “The most important thing is that you feel safe, alright?” 

“Yep.”

“And you know you can back out whenever you want.”

“You can too.” 

Ben breaks into one of his glorious full smiles.

“Unlikely, sweetheart.” 

Rey’s brain short-circuits. There’s simply nothing but mush left inside her skull.

“When,” she half-whispers, “when do we start?” 

Ben chuckles gently.

“Soon, I guess? There’s just one more thing we have to discuss…”

“Yes?”

“Well, whether we should or shouldn’t play into the breeding this time around.” 

Right. That little detail. That absolute insanity that wrecked through her and dragged her under the last time they did this. 

“Aren’t we kind of obliged to?” Rey finally says, when her senses recover from the horniest flashback she’s ever had. “Don’t they expect it?”

“I guess they do, but as I said, you need to feel comfortable with… everything.” 

“I… I think I am.” 

The muscles of Ben’s jaw visibly clench, and a few invisible ones of Rey’s do the same. A silence packed with electricity spreads through Ben’s kitchen, and Rey has to fight a desperate urge to pick her cuticles. She still can’t believe she’s doing this. That she’s here, in his house, again, discussing the ways he wants to fuck her. 

“Maybe we should start off easy?” Ben breaks the heavy silence. “With a few pictures for your profile, perhaps?” 

***

Ben sends her off to the shower, and just like last time, he spends the entire time she’s in there scolding himself for being overexcited. He needs to keep himself reined in, even though he’s somehow managed to lure the most beautiful woman in the world to his house, with the sole intention of sleeping with her. Repeatedly. In every thinkable way there is. 

“Keep your goddamn cool, man,” he wheezes in the general direction of his lower regions.

It doesn’t help much, not when she steps out of his bathroom dressed in a half-transparent pink bra with matching undies. 

“Tada,” she says with an awkward smile. 

“Ta-fucking-da, indeed.” 

Ben ushers Rey over to his studio, but instead of placing her in the bed, he asks her to stand in front of the window. The thin curtains block off enough light to make the spot the perfect setting for some suggestive, yet classy, photos. He then props his camera up on the tripod and looks at her through its tiny screen. 

She’s gorgeous.

Even when she’s shy and hesitant to move around, she’s looking absolutely perfect. 

“And turn to the side…”

The silhouette of her tits and ass, the small of her waist, the way she bares her throat when she tilts her head back to allow her hair to flow straight down, it’s all too much for Ben’s poor mind. How is he supposed to survive with her in the house for two full weeks? 

“This feels odd,” she suddenly says.

“Posing?”

“Posing alone. We’re selling the fantasy of us, aren’t we?” 

Big eyes framed by long lashes look up at him, and Ben can’t decide if she’s being genuinely naive, or if she’s just having a ball toying with him. 

“I suppose we are,” Ben hums.

“Join me?”

Ben really hadn’t planned to, but saying no to her, when she’s looking like that, won’t be an option. He hoists the remote trigger out of the camera bag, and steps in front of the camera. 

“Maybe I should get out of my clothes as well…” 

“No!” Rey stops him just as he's about to start unbuttoning his shirt. “I mean, yes, but… maybe I could do it? It could be… hot? In the photos, I mean.” 

“Yes.” Ben exhales the word. “Good thinking.” 

And that’s how he ends up having her slowly work her way down the buttons of his shirt, whatever pep talk he gave himself while she was in the shower falls to the far back of his mind. His self-control is hanging on by a thread so thin she might break it from simply existing.

“Can I like…” she bites her bottom lip before continuing, “Slide it off you? Maybe while you’re leaning down as if we’re about to… kiss?” 

“Yep.” It’s the most articulate answer he has to offer.

Soft, small fingers slide under the fabric of his shirt, and Ben continues to push the remote button while leaning closer to her face. He stops an inch away from her lips, so close that he can feel the mint on her breath, and his head swims. 

Thinking he could start nice and slow had been a massive, massive, mistake. 

Her hands continue their path down his arms, pushing his shirt down his body, and Ben’s still just hovering right next to her lips. 

“Shouldn’t you snap a few more pictures?” she whispers.

“Of course, of course…” 

She briefly smiles, and Ben pushes the button.

Click.

Her hands return to his now bare chest, and Ben tilts his head down, into the space between her shoulder and her neck.

Click.

Ben allows his free hand to slide along the contour of her waist.

Click. 

They’re face to face once more, trying to create interesting angles, but lord help him if she isn’t too pretty for his overheated brain. 

Click.

Her hands at his belt.

Click.

She drops to her knees, pulling Ben’s pants down as she goes, and Ben’s head falls back.

Click.

He’s losing it. 

Click.

***

Rey’s heart is drilling a hole through her chest, and even though she tries to remember why she’s there, it’s becoming harder and harder to remember the camera. She helps him step out of his jeans, rises, and pushes herself up on her tiptoes, allowing her hands to glide along his stomach, chest, and into his hair as she goes.

Click.

Her lips find his, but tentatively, because Rey doesn’t want to ruin the shoot by forcing herself on him. 

Thump.

The remote falls to the floor, and Ben yanks her closer. He snakes one arm around her waist, splaying his hand over her back, as if to keep her in place, while his other hand finds her neck. A soft pressure against Rey’s jawbone prompts her to tilt her head back, giving him free access to her mouth. 

He kisses her as if she’s the last drop of water in the middle of the Sahara, desperately, almost violently, and Rey’s legs might be on the verge of giving in. This is why she came back. The two of them stagger around the room for a few moments, before Ben decisively grabs Rey by her hips and pushes her backwards toward the bed. 

“You pretty little thing,” he murmurs as Rey lies down. “The things I’ll do to you…” 

Every nerve ending in her body sizzles with anticipation, and wherever he touches her, it’s as if her skin catches fire. Firm hands yank her panties down her legs, and they’re even firmer when they push her thighs to the sides. His eyes are pitch black.

He knows he can take whatever he wants. 

Rey gasps as he begins to sprinkle soft kisses against the insides of her thighs. His lips move closer and closer to where she needs them most, and her hips tilt to offer him a better angle, and she clings to the sheets under closed eyes, she might explode if he doesn’t reach her center this goddamn instant, and—

The sudden absence of his touch startles her eyes open. Ben’s standing two steps away from the bed, from her, with his chest heaving and disheveled hair standing in every direction.

“I— I’m sorry,” he pants. “That was… extremely unprofessional. I just… lost it. God, I’m so sorry.” 

“Ben,” Rey mumbles, “it’s alright.” 

“It’s not, I’m really sorry.” His eyes look everywhere but at her. “I— I need a minute.” 

He’s out of the room the next second, leaving Rey sitting on the bed, wearing nothing but a torn bra. 

“Fuck,” she grits out.

She forgot, again, that this is his job. Of course, he won’t fuck her without a camera there to record it, that’s the arrangement, she knows that, but being rejected like this… It hurts. She needs to be smarter. More careful. There are rules, and she has to play by them in order to keep her newfound position as his pet wife.

Although she’s not really his pet wife.

It’s all pretend. 

She needs to remember that he doesn’t actually want her, not in the way she wants him. 

It’s his job.

Rey sighs. She’s an idiot.

***

It’s the coldest shower of his life. Ben’s an idiot. The biggest asshole on the face of the Earth. The first rule of the business he finds himself in is to never push anyone into something that hasn’t been previously discussed.

And they certainly haven’t discussed if he’s allowed to eat her out when they’re not working. 

She hadn’t seemed too offended, but people can go along with a lot of things in the heat of the moment, only to regret it later. And he can’t pretend like there isn’t an issue of power imbalance as well; He’s been doing this for years, while she’s brand new, and she needs him to guide her through it all. What if she gets the idea that the male can do whatever they want to her, if she continues to create content after their time together comes to an end?

“Fuck.”

The thought of her sleeping with another man, on or off camera… An acute need to smash something lurch through Ben’s body. She should be his. They can look all they want, but they certainly can’t touch. 

“Get a grip, get a grip, get a grip…” 

Rey’s here to work. With any luck, said work will make him cool off a little, and turn him back into the normal, constrained version of himself.

Yes.

All he needs to do is to properly fuck her in a manner they’ve both agreed upon, and all will be well. 

All will be well.

Chapter Text

Ben finds her in his kitchen, dressed in a set of grey sweats, awkwardly sipping a glass of water. A tiny flinch of her shoulders as she spots Ben tells him that he has to be the one that sorts this mess out. As it should be.

“I’m sorry,” he says once more, “I was out of line. It won’t happen again.”

Rey’s scrunches her nose, clearly deliberating with herself, before answering:

“Okay.” 

Her face is oddly blank, vacant of any readable emotions. Ben swallows. 

“I mean, if you’re still okay moving forward with this?” 

She quirks a brow, as if to suggest how utterly daft she must think he is.

“Of course I am.” 

Ben exhales. All is not lost. 

“Great, great. How about some lunch before… well, anything.” 

“Sounds good.”

Ben moves around the kitchen with well-practiced ease, while Rey sits by the table. They chat about mundane stuff neither of them will remember, but it’s easy with her, to just be, and he will remember that.

Not twenty minutes later, Rey’s devouring the chicken and bacon sandwich Ben prepared for her with great enthusiasm.

“This is… really good,” she says between her bites. “I’m not much of a cook.” 

“I can cook for you, when you’re working.” 

She grins mischievously, in the way that never fails to make Ben’s heart flutter.

“A pet wife with a stay-at-home husband? What a dream.”

***

A while later, Rey’s sitting on Ben’s couch, working on her brand-new JustFans account, while Ben prepares the studio.

Yes, that’s what he calls the bedroom with all of the cameras, because he has another one where he actually sleeps, and yet another one, where Rey will spend her nights. She’d been a little bit disappointed when she realized they wouldn’t share a bedroom, but then again, why would they? She can’t blame him for wanting to keep his work and his private life as separate as possible.

“A name…” Rey mutters. 

All good handles are already taken, and Rey’s patience is wavering. She’s sick of trying different combinations, and her thumb flies across the keyboard without prompting. 

Kira_Ren

“Oh fuck.” 

It worked. Should she run it by Ben? Although, if she’s here to be his pet wife, why shouldn’t she go all in? Online, she can be his pet wife 24/7, and not only when they’re recording.

That’s a bad, bad thought.

She hits confirm, and there it is, her very own JustFans-account. Ben has already transferred the pictures from their somewhat chaotic photo session to her phone, and Rey chooses one with just her backlit side profile as her profile picture. 

Then, it’s just the bio left. Rey worries her lip for a second, but decides to go all out once again.  

Pet wife of Kylo Ren.

Lava pools in her stomach, or perhaps it’s even lower than that. Rey knows she’s not doing anything to prevent her own destruction, if anything she’s adding fuel to the fire, but all she wants is to feel as much as possible, for as long as possible.

It won’t hurt today.

“So…” Ben leans his weight against the doorpost, almost as if he’s trying to make himself look smaller, but it doesn’t work particularly well. “Do you reckon we should just rip the bandaid?” 

Ah, isn’t that what every girl wants? To go to bed with a man who considers said bed-going to be a bandaid-ripping event? 

“If it’s not too much of a bother, I suppose we should.” 

“No!” Ben half-shouts. “It’s no bother. None!”

Rey can’t help but snort. 

“I just—” Ben scratches the back of his neck. “I just think I need to get going to keep from… you know, jumping you.” 

Oh. Is he… eager? Rey’s heart does a stupid little somersault, but her brain desperately tries to cling to the fact that he walked away from their last little encounter - getting turned on can’t be described as anything other than a key part of his occupation, and she really shouldn’t read too much into it. 

“Alright,” she says with as much professionalism as she can muster. “What’s the plan?”

“I think we should just lean into the pet wife-bit for this one. We’ll reintroduce you, and then…” Ben shrugs with a sly smirk. “We’ll just go to town.” 

Rey’s cheeks once more lights up as a Christmas tree. So much for professionalism. 

“Sounds great,” she squeaks. 

“But, um… You know how I try to cater to different audiences?”

“Yes?” 

“I would like to flirt a little with the bdsm-crowd, nothing crazy I swear, but I’d like to give you something.”  

“Give me something? Give me what?” 

“A gift, I guess. Is that alright?” 

“It’s not like a…” Rey hesitates. “A whip or something?” 

He chuckles and shakes his head, causing all of those glorious curls to dance around him. 

“No, it’s nothing like that. It’s a little bit naughty, but not that naughty.”

“What is it?” 

Rey can’t tell if she’s supposed to be scared or excited, but Ben continues to grin at her, and he probably wouldn’t look like that if it was… a gagball or something. Right?

“It wouldn’t be a surprise if I told you.” 

“Well…”

“You can always pineapple me, if you hate it.”

Rey bothers her lip while searching Ben’s face, and he bloody winks at her.

“Alright,” she says with a little shrug. “But if it is a whip, I’ll be the one holding it.” 

***

The room is heated, the lighting is set, the cameras are rolling, and the sheets are fresh out of the dryer. It’s officially time for take two. Ben rolls his neck. It would be swell if he could make it through this without making an ass out of himself, but he’s certain she’ll find a way to make him lose all thoughts of his career. She has a way of doing that, his little pet wife. 

Great, she’s not even in the room yet, and his dick is already twitching. 

Ben eyes the squared, rather flat, black box that’s waiting for her on the bed, and a thrill runs up his spine. He doesn’t know whether his fans will appreciate its contents or not, but he certainly will. 

“Hey.” 

The door opens, and Rey tentatively steps inside, looking like an absolute angel with her dark hair falling down her shoulders in gentle waves. Well, maybe she’s a little bit more on the other end of the celestial spectrum, since the robe she’s wearing is blood red today, but either way, she’s pretty enough to make his head spin.

“Hey,” he says. “Are you ready?” 

Rey nods, but she simultaneously spots the package that’s lying on the bed, and her slightly stiff demeanor instantly shifts into an almost childlike excitement.

“Is that for me?” 

“Yeah.”

“Can I open it?” 

Ben laughs. He wouldn’t mind doing this off camera, but that would be the opposite of staying within the lines. 

“Soon.” 

“Fine,” she sniffs. “Where do you want me?” 

Preferably everywhere.

“Let’s sit down on the bed like we did last time and chat with the fans for a little bit.” 

The beginnings of these things always feel a little bit like going to your first school dance. They awkwardly make their way to the bed without touching, but the anticipation is hanging so heavily in the air that it’s almost palpable. 

He can’t fucking wait to watch her come again.

“Ready?” he asks again.

She inhales under closed eyes, as if she’s about to dive off a cliff. 

“Yep.” Her eyes snap open.

Ben nods, yanks his sweater off, and turns to the closest camera. 

“Hello everyone, and welcome back. I’m Kylo Ren, and I’ve turned this saint,” he nods in Rey’s direction, “to a sinner, and she has returned for more. A lot more, actually, because we’ve decided to turn this into a series of sorts. Kira will stay here, with me, as my pet wife.” Ben almost gives himself a stroke from simply speaking the words.

Pet wife.

His mouth dries out, but he forces himself to continue:

“You all know how I feel about consent, so let me ask you, Kira, if you’re on board with this? Not only today, but for as long as you’ll stay here?” 

Rey seems to have warmed up to the cameras since the last time, because she flashes him a little smirk before answering.

“I sure am.” 

“And our safe word is?”

“Let’s stick to pineapple.” 

The smirk turns almost smug, and Ben decides to humble her just the tiniest little bit. 

“I am going to fuck you so many times,” he murmurs while maintaining direct eye contact. “In so many ways.”

As he predicted, Rey’s face turns deliciously pink, and her gaze drops. Ben lifts a hand to her heated cheek and strokes it with the back of his fingers.

“I have something for you.” 

***

She looks up, and Ben hands her gift over with a pleased smile. The packaging alone looks expensive; it’s tied up with a silken ribbon as black as the box itself. Rey fidgets with the ribbon for a second, before carefully pulling it. The bow falls apart, and Rey places the box in her lap to be able to lift the lid off. A layer of black tissue paper meets her, and good lord how her heart is beating. Her fingers might be trembling as she pinches the paper between them and unveils what’s hidden underneath.

“Oh,” she breathes. 

On top of another ruffled sheet of paper lies a golden circle. Rey picks it up with both hands, only to find that it’s heavier than she expected it to be. It’s not… gold, is it? The surface of the rigid circle has been hammered ever so slightly, and the small bumps and valleys of the metal catch the light so beautifully it almost looks like it’s sparkling. 

Rey might be inexperienced in the bedroom, but she does have access to the internet, and she knows without a doubt that the piece of jewelry she’s holding isn’t just any necklace.

It’s a collar. 

“It’s gorgeous.” 

Ben smiles big and wide, and it almost looks like he’s just as excited about the gift as she is.

“Do you want me to put it on?” 

The huskiness of his voice shuts all of her higher brain functions right down, and, incapable of forming words, Rey nods, hands him the necklace and turns her back at him. The bed dips down as he scoots so close that she can feel the heat of his skin radiating through the fabric of her thin robe. With one hand, she pushes the hair off her shoulder and over to the other side, carefully making sure it’s the side turned towards the camera that she bares. She lifts her hair up, as if she’s about to tie it into a ponytail, and one of Ben’s arms slides under her raised arm, while the other reaches across her other shoulder. Surely, he must be able to hear the violent way her heart’s pounding against her ribs? 

The metal is cool around her neck, but his fingers are warm as he fumbles with the clasp. 

“Is it too tight?” He slips a finger underneath the collar, forcing Rey to gasp for air.

“Only if you insist on choking me with it.” 

“Oh.” Ben keeps his finger where it is. “Tell me, do you know what this necklace means?” 

Rey has a pretty good idea, but she wants to hear him say it. 

“No.”

Ben tugs her backwards by the collar, and Rey has no choice but to lean back, into his chest. His lips dip down next to her ear. 

“It means…” he lingers on every word. “It means that you're mine.”

He wants to own her. Maybe not in real life, but in this room, he wants her to be his. 

“Yes,” she whispers. “I am.” 

The pressure against Rey’s throat eases.

“Let me look at you.” 

Rey turns to Ben, and his eyes fixate at her neck. 

“I didn’t get you one of those…” he trails off for a second. “One with an O-ring, because I wanted you to be able to wear it in public. So you’ll know where you… belong.”

His eyes snap to her face, and they’re five shades darker than they usually are. Every pulse point in Rey’s body feels as if they’re about to burst. 

Ben sticks his finger under the collar again, and pulls her along with it until her mouth is little more than an inch away from his. 

“My little wife…” 

And Rey breaks. 

She closes the gap between them by more or less throwing herself at him, flinging his arms around his stupidly wide neck and crashing her lips against his. Ben thankfully doesn’t seem to mind, he engulfs her in his arms and pulls her across his lap until she’s straddling him.

He’s already hard, and the realization causes the silliest little sound to escape her, a cross between a whine and a moan. Ben briefly smiles against her lips, before tightening his hold of her and continuing kissing her senseless. 

*** 

Minutes pass before Ben remembers that he’s not doing this just because of the fun of it, and while he would be content to just keep on kissing her for the rest of the night, he doubts his viewers wouldn’t be. Rey huffs as she’s more or less being pushed out of his lap and onto the floor. 

“I want to open my present, too.” 

Bewilderment flickers across Rey’s face, but only for a second, because Ben’s fingers are already at the knot of her belt. 

Ben remains seated on the bed as he pushes the fabric down her shoulders. The silk garment falls to the floor with a faint whoosh, and even though he knew she wouldn’t be wearing anything underneath the robe, the sight of her naked body still knocks the air out of him.

“Spin for me.” 

And for those who will be watching. Ben wants them all to know what they won’t ever get to touch. Rey rolls her eyes, but does as she’s told.

Of course she does.

Once she’s facing him again, Ben pulls her closer, just to be able to run his hands along the contour of her body, mapping out her tits, the small of her waist, the swell of her ridiculously perfect ass. Her skin pebbles under his touch.

“You’re such a pretty little thing, sweetheart.” 

The compliment makes her squirm in his hands, as if she gets more flustered by praise than by standing naked in front of thousands of people, and maybe that’s true. Maybe nobody has ever told her. He’ll tell her. 

Again and again and again.

“Get back in bed.” 

As she makes her way to the middle of the bed, Ben stands up to pull his grey sweatpants off. Like Rey, he’s not wearing anything underneath, and by the looks of things, she’s equally surprised to see him in his birthday suit as he was. Or maybe it’s his rather prominent boner she’s staring at, all wide-eyed and with her kiss-swollen lips slightly parted. One day soon, he’ll make her wrap those pretty lips around his cock, but today is not the day. 

The mere thought of watching her blow him makes his dick twitch. 

“Lay down,” he murmurs, “and spread your legs.”

He can hardly bear how willingly she does whatever he wants, even though it’s obvious he’s pushing her extraordinarily far out of her comfort zone. Ben’s still standing by the foot of the bed, and he takes a second to just look at her, before climbing into bed himself. He makes his way up her body, sprinkling soft kisses as he goes. When he reaches her face, he kisses her once.

“Tell me, pet… Would you like me to eat you out?” 

She nods under closed eyelids and with cheeks tinted pink. That won’t do.

“Open your eyes and use your words.” 

Her pupils are so wide blown they almost look black. 

“Yes…” she whispers. “Please.” 

“Such good manners.” Ben gives her another quick kiss before starting his descent. “You’re so well behaved…”

A shiver runs through her body, much to Ben’s delight. Determinedly, he slips his arms under her thighs, pushing them apart even further, and once she’s good and properly splayed open to him, he practically locks them in place by grabbing hold of them with his hands. 

***

“Fuck!” Rey whimpers as he practically dives in. 

He’s eating her out as a man starved, as if he’s doing it for his own entertainment, and not for her enjoyment. 

Rey supposes it might be the epitome of killing two birds with one stone, but soon, she’s not supposing nor thinking much of anything, because Ben decides to slide a finger into her.

And then another.

Her back arches off the mattress, but he’s still holding her down in some sort of half bodylock with his left arm and hand, and there’s no escape from the relentless onslaught of stimuli. She’s unaware she’s clawing at his shoulders, and she’s not in the slightest responsible for whatever sounds he might be pulling out of her. 

Rey almost panics when she realizes she’s on the brink of climaxing. How long has he been down there? Two minutes? That’s an embarrassingly short time to last while shooting porn, is it not? He needs to slow down, or she’ll make a fool of herself. 

“Kylo,” she whines, “I—”

Ben looks up from between her thighs with a sly smirk. His fingers are still lazily moving inside of her.

“Yes?” 

“I— I’m gonna…” Rey desperately tries to regain her control. “I’m—” 

“You’re gonna come?” 

“Yes.” It’s more of an apologetic squeak, than a word.

“That’s the entire point, darling. Relax.”  

“But— oh!”

Rey’s nails sink even deeper into his skin as he redoubles his efforts and the avalanche comes crashing down. 

***

It’s possible he rushed her a little, like the greedy man he is, but he hasn’t seen her come in weeks, so who could blame him? 

An annoying voice at the back of his mind, sounding an awful lot like Poe’s, argues that it wasn’t the smartest of moves pacing wise, but it doesn’t matter, Ben argues back, since he’s planning on making her come at least one more time before this session comes to an end. 

He holds her down through the last convulsions and doesn’t stop lapping at her until she’s practically trying to shove him away. 

“You did good.” 

Ben straightens himself up.

“I didn’t do much,” she mumbles. 

“You did exactly what I told you to do, like the good girl you are. 

Her kids flutter open, and for a second she looks absolutely drunk, but then…

“Did I do that?” she points at his left shoulder. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t—” 

Ben looks down, and realizes that she scratched him so well that he’s bleeding from one of the many marks she’s left on him. It’s just a single drop that’s been smudged out, but it’s undeniably there . 

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you’ll make it up to me. In fact, I know a way. Turn over.” 

He moves to the side to allow her to flip over, and that ass of hers does not inspire any rational, business-minded, decisions. 

“Up on all fours, baby.”

Ben pushes his knees in between hers and runs his hands along her contours again. His hands look obscenely big in comparison to her waist. 

“I’ve been longing for this.” He grabs himself with one hand and slides it along her cunt. 

“Me too,” she says so faintly Ben isn’t sure the microphones pick up on it. 

But he sure does. 

With a tug at her hips, he sinks into her, fully, without giving her a chance to adapt to him. 

“Bloody hell!” she wheezes in true British fashion. 

Not to toot his own horn or anything, but Ben knows it’s a lot to handle. Although… After the initial surprise, she handles it perfectly, taking all of him again and again under the most delicious nonsensical little noises. 

“Arch for me.”

Absolutely transfixed, he watches how she stretches to accommodate all of him, and the sight might be enough to send him into an early grave. Their movements cause her hair to fall down the side of her neck, and the sudden appearance of the strip of gold around it sends him into an absolutely feral state. 

“You’re taking me so well,” he chokes out, “you’re being such a perfect little wife.” 

Ben knows he’s fucked the millisecond he utters the word wife. His balls practically cramp together, all sounds are sucked away, his goddamn vision goes blurry, and his head falls back as he yells profanities at the ceiling. 

*** 

“Fuck,” he huffs, before he pulls out and plops down next to her. “I’m sorry.” 

Rey can’t resist the temptation of settling onto his outstretched arm. 

“I don’t mind,” she says with a smile. 

Ben presses his lips against her forehead in the softest of kisses.

“It’s a good thing you’ll be staying for a little while, people would’ve been demanding a refund if this was it.” 

Rey snorts. 

“We’re doing quantity over quality?” 

“By the looks of things, I’d say we are.” Ben shoves his disheveled hair out of his face with his free hand. “I wonder how I will caption this… Watch Kylo Ren fuck his pet wife and lose it like a fifteen year old boy?”

Every time Ben calls her his wife, even if it’s in passing, every little hair on Rey’s body stands straight up. She’d give a leg to stay nestled in his arms for the rest of the evening. 

“Don’t you think they’ll like it? Won’t we be able to use it?” 

Ben gives her a little squeeze.

“Are you insane? People would pay just to see you naked.” 

“Oh hush!” Rey swats his chest. 

“It’s true.” He tilts her face toward his with two fingers underneath her chin. “And you better get used to compliments.”

Rey doesn’t know what to answer, so she says nothing at all. They lie in silence for a little while, just breathing, and Rey wonders if she’s ever felt this content before.

“Are you alright?” There’s actual concern laced into his voice. “I didn’t hurt you?” 

There is a dull throbbing ache at the center of her core, but she doesn’t mind that one bit. 

“I’m all good.” 

“Good, good. Are you cold? Maybe we should get you into the shower.” 

There it is. The end of her being his wife, at least for tonight. Rey sits up.

“Yeah, I’ll jump straight in.” 

She picks her robe off the floor and wraps herself in it. 

“Hey,” he says as she’s halfway through the door. “You truly did do well.” 

How many times is it physically possible to blush in one day? 

“Thank you,” she says over her shoulder. “You did too.” 

After her second shower of the day, Rey stands staring at herself through the bathroom mirror. With her wet hair combed away from her face and without her makeup, she looks younger than she did fifteen minutes ago, but that’s not what she’s looking at. 

Her eyes move back and forth between her bare neck and the golden circle that’s lying on the counter next to the sink. Is she supposed to wear it off of camera as well? 

Probably not.

Then again, he never told her she couldn’t wear it whenever she wished to.

Which would be all the time. Rey picks it up and traces the uneven surface of the gold with her thumb. 

It means that you're mine.

Tomorrow evening, thousands of people will watch him declare her as his . Rey’s head swims, and her fingers tremble as she slides the collar back on, and even worse as she closes the clasp.

But it feels right.

She is his all of the time, off or on camera, even if he doesn’t know it, or even wishes for it. 

“Rey? Do you wanna order some pizza?” Ben’s voice calls from the other side of the door.

“Pizza sounds great,” she calls back.

After a final look at her reflection, she nods to herself and reaches for the door knob.

It won’t hurt today.

Chapter Text

She steps out of the bathroom, and Ben almost turns into that nosebleed-meme, because she’s still wearing her collar. For a foolish heartbeat, Ben has himself convinced that she left it on intentionally, to show him that she is his, but then he realizes that he never told her that it was intended as a prop and that she’s not expected to wear it off camera. 

She’s simply trying to navigate a situation she’s never been in before, and she keeps it on to be polite.

“Did you order already?”

Maybe he should tell her? Although, maybe she’d feel embarrassed for not realizing that it wasn’t a gift in the usual sense of a gift? Fuck, he really should’ve talked this through with her before he turned the cameras on. Idiot.

“Ben?” 

“Huh?” Ben struggles to understand that she’s talking about pizza. “No, I— I didn’t. I’m calling them now, what do you want?”

***

The guest bedroom is small, and it’s decorated in a completely different style than the rest of the house. Floral wallpaper covers the walls, and sheer lace curtains hang in the window. Nan used to sleep in here . The single bed has been made with the same care Ben puts into everything he does. 

Rey crawls in under the covers wide-eyed and with a slightly aching stomach. They had eaten their pizzas in front of some old movie she can’t remember the name of, perched up on either end of his sofa, and Ben had made sure to stay at least three feet away from her the entire evening. Save for that bewildered look he gave her when she stepped out of the bathroom, he hadn't bothered to look in her direction, not even once. He was never unkind, but he’s made his boundaries clear as day; there’s an on-and-off switch to this marriage. 

Online, however, there’s not. 

Ben has already posted a picture of them together with a link to Rey’s brand new account, and the followers are pouring in, along with comments on the first, and so far only, picture she’s posted. 

miratorpenium
You look so good together!

hideyourspoons
Argshjsthfddtybve I’m so excited 

emilovelace
You’re living the dream girlfriend 

An overwhelming majority of her new followers appear to be… females? The comments remind her of the Swifties leave under pictures of Taylor Swift doing just about anything; adoring and slightly over the top, although, in this case, some of them are naughtier than the ones Rey’s seen floating around in various fan spaces. 

She hasn’t met a single one of these women, but their enthusiasm fills Rey with a buzzing warmth. It would be so easy to get used to this. The validation. And why wouldn’t she? In two weeks, she’ll be back at her desk, doing what she’s always been doing, and no one will even notice her return. No, she’s going to milk every last drop out of this arrangement and follow those highs wherever she can find them. 

***

“Fuck,” Ben groans as if he’s in pain.

His fingers cling so tightly around his phone the screen threatens to crack.

She’s actively trying to kill him.

On his phone, there’s a slightly blurry picture of the area between the top of Rey’s chest and up to her lips. Her head is tilted slightly backward, exposing her neck where she’s tucked a thumb underneath her golden collar, but that’s not the worst part. That would be the caption.

Look what Daddy got me. 

Ben stares at the words, then at the picture, then back at the words, again and again, with a rising sense of panic.

The phone suddenly vibrates, snapping Ben out of his head. It’s a text. 

Dameron
You’re a genius! Look at the stats on her account! Daddy 😂

She did that all on her own

Dameron
She’s the genius then! When are u dropping the first video?

Tomorrow

Dameron
Keep your eyes on the prize Benjamin and make us rich 

I’ll do my best

Dameron
That’s all I ask. 

She sleeps in the room next to Ben’s. Does she sleep naked, or was that just for the picture? Does she sleep dressed in nothing but her collar?

“Fuck, fuck, fuck…” 

“I made coffee,” Ben hums. 

“Great.”

Rey yawns behind her hand as she moves through his kitchen. She’s pulled her hair into a messy topknot and she’s wearing the same set of sweats as she briefly wore yesterday.

And her collar. 

The necklace paired with her casual appearance somehow manages to make her look even hotter than what she did when she wore it together with lingerie.

It’s the domesticity of it all; the soft morning light catching in the gold around her neck, her small hands wrapped around one of his cups, the halo of stray hairs framing her face, the way she so seamlessly fits in his home… 

“Ben?” 

“Oh, sorry, what were you saying?” 

She smiles and shakes her head.

“Are you always this aloof?” 

Only with you.

“Probably, yeah.” Ben takes a gulp of his coffee in the hopes that his oversized mug will be enough to hide his blush.

“I just asked what you’re up to today.”

“Well, I suppose I’ll do some editing, otherwise I won’t be able to post anything this afternoon.” Ah, now she’s the one blushing. “How about you?” 

“The same thing I always do.” Rey shrugs. “Is it okay if I set up my computer here?”

“In the kitchen? Sure.” 

A mischievous grin lights up her face.

“Will you have time to make me lunch?” 

“Yeah, there wasn’t a whole lot of material so I’ll be done before noon.” 

Her grin morphs into a snort as if he just blindly walked into a trap.

“I’m sure you will be.”

Is she teasing him? 

“Hey!” Ben waves a finger in her direction. “Don’t go there.” 

“I’m not!” Her pleased little giggle bounces around the kitchen. “I’m just saying I’m certain you’ll finish early.” 

She is. Ben arranges his face into a stern mock frown, leans in over the table, and drops his voice. 

“Young lady, do not test my patience.”

Her bottom lip catches between her teeth.

“Or what?” 

Or he’ll be forced to teach her just how long he can drag things out. Ben crosses his legs to keep all of his bits reined in.

She’ll cry before he’s done with her.

“All I’m saying is that you shouldn’t be a brat and bite off more than you can chew, dearest.” 

***

Dearest. He says it as if it’s as much of a threat as it is a promise. Rey sips her coffee under burning cheeks while Ben leans back in his chair with a smug shadow of a smirk on his face. But two can play this game.

“Do we have any ovulation tests at home?” Rey asks in the flattest, most indifferent tone she can muster. 

Ben’s jaw drops for half a second before his survival instincts kick in. 

“A few,” he answers with a shrug that wouldn’t convince anyone. “Why?”

“I don’t know, but maybe I should take one like every day, for my account? Wouldn’t that be a good way to draw people?” 

“Yeah, sure, it certainly would be…” Ben clears his throat. “So, how far away are you?” 

Rey can barely keep from grinning. This is his Achilles heel. 

“I’m not quite sure, but I’m guessing it’ll happen by the end of the week.” 

“By the end of the week,” Ben hums. “Right.” 

He suddenly stands up, and his chair almost topples over. 

“I— I should get started. With the— the—”

“The editing?” Rey suggests.

“Yes. Editing.” Three strides are all he needs to reach the hallway. “See you at lunch.”

Rey opens her laptop with a sense of accomplishment, and while her pretend husband sits in the other room making sure they look decent while fucking, Rey opens yet another spreadsheet in Excel and digs in.

***

Their first feature is a roaring success, not that Ben nor Rey take any notice, since they’re too busy recording their second feature. Ben has already decided on its caption.

Edging my pet wife until she cries (and then fucking her until she screams)

She’s well on her way to tears already. A broken nonsensical little cry fills the room as he once more abandons her cunt just before she finishes. 

“No,” she whimpers, “please…” 

“Oh, baby,” Ben coos before he kisses her neck. “You were a little bit of a brat earlier, remember?”

“I didn’t mean to,” she half-whispers under closed eyelids.

Ben ghosts his hand over her sex again, and her body instantly stiffens under him. She’s so desperate for him to keep going, and so terrified he won’t. 

“We need to establish some ground rules.” 

She eagerly nods, only to sigh in defeat when Ben’s hand once more retreats. 

“Look at me.” 

Her eyes are misty and unfocused. 

“You’re my wife,” Ben murmurs, “and you can’t come unless I want you to, alright?” 

She blinks with her lips slightly parted. 

“Y-yes.” 

“There she is…” 

He kisses her breathless, eats her out, fingers her, and almost fucks her over and over again. Slowly but surely she’s being pushed closer and closer to the brink of insanity, and something feral stirs in her. Instead of trying to stay as still as possible and just allowing him to explore whatever part of her he wishes to, she practically climbs all over him in a frantic search for friction. 

***

“Easy,” he chuckles as she straddles him across his hips.

“Please,” Rey whines, “please…” 

She reaches between them as she tries to take the matter into her own hands, but it doesn’t come as a surprise that he doesn’t let her. 

Ben closes his big hands around the back of her head and pulls her down for a kiss. His kisses are maddening, deep and slow and hungry, but they’re absolutely in no shape or form enough. Unknowingly, she grinds against him, and she doesn’t realize until he forces her to stop moving by wrapping his hands firmly around her hips.

“I’m sorry, pet, I’m not being very nice, am I?” 

But that’s just the thing, isn’t it? He’s being incredibly nice, almost too nice, one might argue, but only for as long as her breathing stays somewhat even. As soon as he notices that she has to struggle to keep on breathing normally, he quits whatever it is he’s been doing, and starts doing something else, something that’s equally nice, but not at all what she needs. 

“Kylo,” she whispers with her lips brushing against his, “please… ” 

His mouth curls into a smile. “No.” 

He moves them both around, it’s as if he’s decided there can’t be a single spot of her skin left untouched nor unkissed, she’s on her back, then on her side, on her stomach, on her knees, and then back again, and every time he shifts them around, Rey prays this is the time he’ll relent, but he never does. 

“No!” she gasps as he once more pulls back from between her legs. 

“No?” Ben looks up at her with the darkest gaze she’s ever seen. 

“I can’t— I can’t take it.” 

“But you’re taking it very well, sweetheart.” 

“No, no, no, no…” 

Rey squeezes her eyes shut as Ben moves up her body and settles next to her. His fingers dance over her sweaty skin, but no matter how Rey shifts and bucks and makes an absolute fool of herself, she can’t make those fingers move down where she needs them. Her core is so tight tears prickle in her eyes. 

“Please…” 

Ben props himself up on his elbow to look at her. He looks absolutely wild, as if he’s reaching the end of his line as well. Or maybe that’s just wishful thinking. 

Death might come for her before he allows her to. 

“Baby…” He swipes a thumb over her cheek. “Are you crying?” 

“Maybe,” Rey all but sobs. 

“You poor thing…” 

Without looking away from her face, Ben slides his hand down her neck, down her stomach, and back in between her thighs.

“Yes,” she breathes. 

She’ll die if he stops touching her this time, and if she doesn’t, she might make sure he does. The pressure quickly builds back up again, and just when she’s about to fall, he removes his hand and sits up.

“No!” 

“Calm down, princess, just a second…” 

Ben settles on his knees between Rey’s legs, before he grabs her by the hips and lifts her pelvis off the mattress. 

“Please,” she begs with hot tears rolling down her temples. “I need you.” 

“Alright.” Ben aligns himself, and Rey can hardly even see straight. “But you’ll come on my cock, or not at all.” 

He sinks inside of her, finally, and whatever sound it is she makes, it’s not human. 

The way he fucks her isn’t either. 

The pace, the pressure, the angle, the sound of his ragged breath, the pure relief…  

“Oh, fuck!”

“That’s it, that’s it… you wanna come, then come.”

And she does. Trashing and screaming and without a shred of self-control. 

“You’re so fucking gorgeous…” Ben pants with his fingers digging deep into her flesh. “Perfect.” 

And then he comes, too. 

***

They lie in silence next to each other, sweaty and panting. Her cheeks are still glistening. 

He really did make her cry. In retrospect, maybe he shouldn’t have. 

“Are you okay?” 

She turns her head to look at him. “Yeah.” 

“You sure?” 

“I’m sure. Just a little sleepy.” 

“That was a bit intense. Especially since it was your… third time.” 

“Ben,” she says with a grin. “I could’ve said pineapple, but I didn’t, did I?” 

In this post-fuck haze, he allows himself to tuck his arm underneath her neck, and wrap her in his arms. Where she belongs.

“Promise me you’ll say it, if I ever go too far.” 

The tip of her nose almost brushes against his neck as she nods.

“I promise.”

Chapter Text

They fall into a comfortable, but arguably quite bizarre routine over the next couple of days. Rey starts her days by taking an ovulation test, then it’s time for her daily run, and after that, she eats breakfast with Ben, works for a few hours, eats whatever Ben cooks for them for lunch, showers, shaves, moisturizes, dresses up in something flimsy, and then… then Ben fucks her in every way imaginable. During the evenings, they watch old shows on Netflix, with an entire couch-length between them. 

Rey’s JustFans account has absolutely exploded since she started sharing her test results in real time each morning, Ben now has twice as many followers as he did before they released their first feature together, and the money is pouring in. All and all, life isn’t too shabby, Rey thinks. It’s make-believe, of course, but she still has almost a week of it left, before her inevitable return to reality. 

“Hey, I’ve forgotten to ask you something,” Ben says as he pours her a cup of coffee.

“Yeah?” 

“Dameron is throwing a birthday party on Saturday, and it wouldn’t feel right to leave you here, so I’m just wondering if you’d care to tag along?” 

“Oh.” Rey hasn’t been to a party in years. “I suppose?” 

“Great. Do you happen to have a cocktail dress in your suitcase?” 

“A what now?”

“I’ll take that as a no.”

“I have numerous sets of sweats and undies if that helps.” 

Ben flashes his teeth, and Rey’s stomach flips, like it always does whenever she manages to lure a smile out of him.

“Not really, I’m afraid.” Ben stares out of the window for a few seconds. “Let’s skip work today and go get you a dress.” 

“Yeah. I mean, I guess? But what about our… content?”

“I have enough material to keep the people happy for at least a few days. After lunch then?” 

Rey sips her coffee before she nods. 

“After lunch.” 

***

It’s odd, watching her out in the real world. The light in her dims as they make their way through the crowds of the city center. Ben can almost see how she pulls all of her witty sassiness back into herself, and how the confidence she’s shown both on and off camera melts away. 

She becomes… almost invisible. Not to him, of course, but nobody else seems to notice they’re walking past a goddamn goddess. Was she like this, when they first met? He can’t remember. 

“Here we are.” Ben gestures to his mother’s favorite boutique, packed to the brim with fancy, good-quality clothes. 

“This one?” Rey stares at the clothes displayed in the shop window. “It looks like it’s a bit too expensive for me.” 

Ben pulls the door open.

“Trust me, Dameron would kill me if I allowed you to wear something from H&M to his party. Besides, it’s on me.” 

“Ben, I can’t—” 

But her objection drowns in an enthusiastic welcome from the shopkeeper, who spares no time before she guides a stiff-legged Rey through her store. 

“Any specific color you’d like?” she asks.

“I don’t know…” Rey’s eyes flicker back and forth across the many racks of clothes. “Something green, maybe?”

“Ah, yes, green would suit your complexion.” The shopkeeper takes another look at Rey, and maybe she sees what Ben sees; a woman on the brink of an anxiety attack. “You know what, let’s get you to the dressing rooms, and I'll bring you a few things.”

Ben shadows them down the store, and when the shopkeeper slides past him to go grab some clothes, Ben peeks over the top of the velvety curtain that separates him from Rey. She’s staring at her own reflection.

“Are you okay?” 

“Huh?” Rey spins around. “Sure. I’m great.” 

Rey glides her hands over her scalp to catch a few nonexistent stray hairs. Ben lifts a brow at her.

“I’m good, really. I’m just… not great when there’s a lot of people around. It stresses me out.” 

“I’m sorry I dragged you along.” 

“It’s nothing.” 

It’s obviously not nothing.

“Let’s find you something pretty, and then head home.” 

Her fingers briefly touch her collar, almost to see if it’s still there.

“Alright.” 

The shopkeeper returns with an array of dresses in different shades of green just as Ben’s phone starts vibrating in his pocket, and he already knows who’s calling, even without looking at the screen. He shoots Rey a glance, and she looks like she’s doing okay, before answering. 

“Hello, mother.”

“Benjamin! How good of you to answer for once.” 

“What’s up?” 

“Oh, I’m just checking in, what are you up to?” 

“I’m shopping. Dameron’s birthday is coming up.” 

Leia never fails to perk up whenever Dameron is mentioned.

“It’s this weekend, right? That boy always knew how to throw a proper party.”

“He’s the son you never had, I know.” 

“I’m warning you, don’t go there.” Leia chuckles on the other end of the line.

*** 

The clerk hands Rey a pile of dresses before disappearing back to the other side of the curtain again. 

“Yeah, yeah, it’s no secret you love him more than you love me.”

Rey freezes with her hands clutching a pale green number. The notion that Ben’s mother wouldn’t love him infinitely sounds absurd to Rey, but then Ben chuckles, and Rey realizes he’s just having a laugh with his mom, who by all accounts does seem to love him. She loves him enough to randomly call and check in, and Ben has been loved enough to consider her affections to be a little bit of a nuisance. Imagine being so very much loved that you don’t even realize how loved you are? Rey shakes her head.

“I gotta go now, Mom. Talk soon, and tell Dad I said hi. Bye.” 

Her fingers close the zipper at the side of her first dress just as Ben knocks on the paneling that separates the changing rooms from each other.

“How’s it going in there?” 

He’s obviously tall enough to simply take another peek over the curtain. 

“No,” he concludes. “That’s not the one. Try the emerald one.” 

“This one?” Rey points to a silky dress in the deepest shade of emerald green.

“Give it a go.” 

Rey doesn’t even dare to look at its price tag. She shimmies into the dress and sticks her arms through its fluttering sleeves, but she’s forced to hold it in place by its shoulders since the back is almost fully open, save for a button that’s supposed to hold it all together at the nape of her neck. 

“Ben?” 

“Yeah?” 

“I need a hand.” 

The curtain opens and Ben meets her gaze through the mirror. “Wow.” 

The downside of standing in front of three full-sized mirrors is that you can see yourself turn pink all over, and the need to instantly deflect hits Rey like a freight train. 

“Shut up and make yourself useful.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

His fingers are as warm as they always are, and even though they’re only touching her skin because they’re fumbling to conquer a button far too small for them, it’s enough to send chills down her spine. 

“There.” Ben looks at her reflection again. “That’s the one.” 

The dress looks like nothing else she’s ever worn. Its fabric hugs her in all of the right places while falling beautifully from others, and its rather deep v-neckline contrasts against how modest the rest of the dress is, with the exception of the cutout at its back. 

It’s gorgeous.

“Are you sure I won’t be overdressed?”

Ben barks a laugh and shakes his head.

“You clearly don’t know Dameron. If anything you’ll be underdressed.”

“Alright, so today’s Friday,” Rey says in the general direction of her propped-up phone. “Let’s do this.” 

She dips the test in a little plastic cup, pops its lid on, and puts it down on the counter. 

“You know the drill, we’ll check the results in three minutes.”

Rey did find it strange to talk to herself while washing her face and whatnot during the first few days, but this morning, it feels almost natural, and three minutes later, she lifts the test and shows it to the camera without looking at it herself. 

Her phone almost buzzes off the shelf as the live reactions pour in, prompting Rey to flip the test over.

“Oh.” There are two lines. “That’s a positive. Right. Let’s go tell him.” 

She can’t stop grinning as she picks up her phone to stop recording. 

“So, I got an idea,” she tells Ben as she steps into his kitchen.

He looks up from his phone. “Yeah?” 

“I got a positive today—”

“Really?” 

Rey nods. “Really. I’m thinking you’ll ‘come back from a run’, and I’ll ‘surprise you’?” 

“Yeah…” Ben’s delighted smile morphs into a frown. “After lunch?” 

“I mean, the girls already know…”

His smile returns. “Now, then?”

“Let’s go with now.” 

She won’t be able to concentrate on her real work, anyway. 

“Alright.” Ben worries his bottom lip under pink-tinted ears. “Would you be cool with… several sessions? Because it’s a limited time frame and—”

God, she loves how predictable he is. 

“We better get the most mileage out of it,” she says with a little shrug. 

His smile turns as wide as it gets. “Great. It’s three days, right? So if we record content today and tomorrow, you could take the pill before we head to the party tomorrow night, and then we’ll take Sunday off, just to be on the safe side?”

“Sounds like a plan to me.”

Fifteen minutes later, she’s sitting on the bed in the studio, in front of three cameras that just happen to be recording. She can hear the front door close, and the butterflies in her stomach are actively trying to kill her from within. 

“Kylo? Could you come here for a second?” 

Ben, in his grey sweatpants, steps into the room and the shot. He lights up when he spots her as if he didn’t already know he’d find a barely dressed woman in his bed. 

“Yes?” 

That nerve-wracking thrill of standing at the top of a trampoline the millisecond before you dive in courses through Rey’s body.

“The test…” she says. “It was positive today.” 

His response is the same as it was the first time, only two octaves lower. “Really?” 

“Really.”

Ben yanks his shirt off, tossing it behind him, and more or less throws himself into the bed. He kisses her gently, with one hand sliding into her hair before he pulls back a few inches. His eyes are black as ink. 

“Pineapple me…” His eyes are as black as ink. “If I take it too far.”

And then…

Then he consumes her. 

***

The following 36 hours pass in a feverish frenzy. Ben fucks her on the bed, on the couch, in the shower, bent over the kitchen table, against a wall, and he makes her come so many times he loses count. She doesn’t even bother to freshen up after the first few rounds, because she realizes early on he won’t leave her lips unkissed long enough to justify the use of lipstick. She stays looking half feral instead, with kiss-swollen lips and tangled hair, and she’s never looked more beautiful. 

It’s their last session before the party, the last time he’ll ever fuck her while she’s ovulating, and while it might not look much on camera, he comes while kissing her, with her fingers nails buried deep into his back. 

It’s almost dark out when Ben wakes up again. Rey sleeps as if she has simply passed out on his arm, and for a few moments, all is bliss. 

“Fuck.” He touches Rey’s shoulder with his free hand. “Hey, Rey, we’re gonna be late to Dameron’s party if we don’t hurry up.”

Her eyes open, and when she realizes where she is, she snaps upright. 

“I’m sorry,” she mumbles while half-falling out of the bed. “I— I need to get ready.” 

They occupy one bathroom each for about an hour, before jumping into their formalwear. Ben’s tying his fly as Rey walks over to him, once more holding her dress up by its shoulders. 

“Could you fix the button?”

She smells like vanilla. 

“Are you sure you’re going to be okay?” Ben asks. “There’s gonna be a lot of people there.”

“Will there be alcohol?” 

“Enough to drown a sailor.”

“Then I think I’ll be okay.” 

The Uber ride lasts for a little under an hour, and Rey grows more and more quiet the closer they get to the venue. 

“Do people know…” Rey begins, but she cuts herself off.

“Know what?”

“Like, do Dameron’s friends know what you do?”

And, Ben assumes, by extension, what she does. 

“Nah,” Ben says. “His boyfriend knows, but other than that, I think he’s pretty vague about his own work description as well.” 

Rey nods, and a little bit of the tension in her features melts away. 

“So…” Her fingers pick at the zipper of her bag. “I’m going as your date?”

Ben can’t tell from her face whether she enjoys the idea of being his date, or not.

“If you don’t mind, I guess you are.” 

She looks out the car window. “Alright.” 

Ben guides her up the stairs to the club that belongs to Poe for the night. Rey’s eyes move from the other guests and their expensive outfits to the balloon arrangement out front, to the heaps of flowers that cover every available surface inside. 

“Is he rich?”

Ben chuckles. “He wishes he was, anyway.” 

Although, Ben must admit it’s clear that it’s not just he and Rey whose income has increased significantly in the last month or so. Dameron always goes a few steps too far with his parties, but this one… this one is nothing short of extravagant. Ben points to a nearby corner, with a floral backdrop and a standby photographer. 

“For content?” 

“Sure.” 

She smiles and slips her hand into the crook of his arm. They make their way through the crowd, and whenever it grows extra thick, her fingers squeeze harder around his arm. 

“Hello!” the photographer says. “Well, aren’t you two a sight for sore eyes, come on, get in there.” 

Ben places a hand at the small of her back, or maybe he’s just hovering it without truly making contact, and Rey ensures there’s a bit of air left between their bodies as they position themselves in front of the camera. 

“Come on, guys,” the photographer half-shouts over the chatter and music, “this isn’t prom!” 

They shoot each other a quick smile before Ben slides his arm around Rey’s waist and pulls her closer. 

“Considering what we do for a living this shouldn’t be that awkward,” Ben whispers into her hair. 

She laughs then, to the photographer’s delight.

“Yes, yes, that’s more like it! Now, let’s seal the deal with a kiss! And you better kiss her like you mean it!” 

Rey catches his eye and mouths:

“For content?” 

Ben nods, engulfs her in his arms, and catches her lips. And possibly even a little bit of tongue.

“Thank you, thank you, I didn’t ask for third base!” the photographer howls a few seconds later. “Leave your contacts and I’ll send you the pictures. Now, go away!” 

“You asked for it!” Rey giggles before turning to Ben. “You promised me alcohol.” 

“I sure did, ma’am. Let’s get you something sparkly.” 

They make their way to the bar, and he could get used to having her clinging to his arm, he really could. As they wait for their order, Ben steals another look at Rey. Her hair is collected in a simple updo, leaving her neck on full display, and the collar he gave her is the only piece of jewelry she’s wearing. It suits her perfectly. Ben knows he’s probably full-on staring by now, but he still can’t look away as she thanks the bartender with one of her gorgeous smiles.

“Cheers,” she says.

“Cheers.” 

They’re only a few sips in when Rey’s phone buzzes somewhere deep inside her purse. 

“Oh, it’s the pictures!” 

She turns to make sure Ben can see her screen as well. They do indeed look like they’re attending prom in the first picture, but the rest of them aren’t half bad. The one where Rey laughs is his favorite of course, but the pose they struck right before the photographer asked for a kiss isn’t too shabby either, with both of them solemnly staring at the camera with a sort of defiance radiating off of them, as if it’s them against the world.

“We look hot,” Rey concludes with a grin. “I’m going to post this one.” She scrolls to the last one, the one where they kiss like there’s no tomorrow. “And this one.” 

With the lightning-fast fingers that can only be achieved by the generations younger than Ben, Rey adds the pictures to her feed with the caption Date night, and for whatever reason, it fills Ben with warmth. He’s there, on her phone, and all of her followers can see for themselves who she belongs to.

Or should belong to, at the very least. 

“Hey, Benjamin!” 

Ben looks up at the mezzanine level above their heads. Finding Dameron up there doesn’t surprise him, since he’s the only one other than Ben’s mother that insists on using his full name. 

“Get up here!” Dameron shouts. 

“That’s the overexcited birthday boy,” Ben tells Rey. “Let’s go say hi.” 

***

The wine works as a buffer, it dims all of the people and the noise down, turning it into something bearable. Ben’s hand at the small of her back as they make their way up a spiral staircase doesn’t hurt either. Once they reach its top, they start making their way to Dameron, who’s looking down at his party over by the railings. 

“Dameron!” Ben shouts as they come a bit closer.

Dameron turns, and something about him is eerily familiar. Rey’s certain she’s seen that impossibly symmetrical smile before, but she has no idea where. Maybe he’s been on some game show on TV? Not that she watches TV particularly often, but where else—

“Benjamin!” 

“Happy birthday!” Ben and Dameron fist bump, before Ben turns to Rey. “This is Rey.” 

“Hello, Rey, it’s a pleasure to meet you.” Dameron shakes her outreached hand with both of his. “I’m Poe.” 

Poe?

No, she’s still an hour away from home, and surely there must be lots of gay men named Poe around here anyway. 

“Happy birthday,” she squeaks. “Thank you for having me.”

“Thank you for coming.” Poe flashes his perfectly white teeth again. “You gotta meet my man… Where is he?” 

Rey watches on as Poe scans the people gathered up on the mezzanine level with her heart stuck in her throat. It can’t be that Poe, surely not, he must be a different Poe than the one she spends her days hearing stories about, he has to be. 

“Finn!” Poe suddenly shouts and the floor might just as well fall from under her feet. 

A few feet away, a man turns to face them. His eyes instantly fixate on Rey. Bewildered, he steps closer.

“Rey? What are you—” Finn’s gaze snaps to Ben’s face, and his confused frown grows even deeper. “I thought you were in England?”

“Um…” 

“Do you two already know each other?” Poe asks. “From where?” 

Finn shakes his head in disbelief. 

“From work.”

Chapter Text

All four of them stand frozen in place for a few seconds, just staring at each other, and it’s the longest seconds in Rey’s entire life.

“Well,” Poe finally says, “that’s handy, I suppose.”

Finn’s gaze snaps back and forth between Rey and Ben. “Yeah… Handy.” 

Another lengthy silence follows.

“One more drink, perhaps?” Ben says, but Finn takes a step into their circle of four and cuts him off.

“Rey, a word, please?” 

Finn walks by her without truly waiting for her response, and he grabs her by the hand as he passes her. She’d rather walk on burning coals than discuss the pornographic elephant in the room with Finn, but nobody’s offering her that alternative. He guides her to a corner just by the restrooms, where things are a little bit quieter, and pulls her closer than what’s strictly necessary.

“Did you come here with him? With Ben?” 

“Yes.” 

Finn looks as if he is standing on a pile of burning coals. 

“Listen, Rey, I don’t know what he told you, but that man…” Finn inhales sharply before continuing. “He does porn.” 

Rey looks back at Ben and Poe, who’ve stuck their heads closer together while discussing something that makes them both punctuate their words with hand gestures. 

“I know.” 

“I didn’t want to— Wait. You know?” 

Rey nods. “Yep.” 

She can practically see the wheels turning inside her colleague’s head.

“And you’re okay with it?” Finn’s eyes grow twice their usual size when the only plausible explanation for all of this pops up in his head. “Hold up. Are you… with him? Is that why you’re pretending to be abroad?” 

Rey considers lying, but she can’t see a way to get herself out of this. She nods one more time and pairs it with a little shrug. 

“Yeah. But I have been working from home, I didn’t do it to get paid while slacking.”

Finn’s hands fly out from his sides.

“Do you seriously think I’m worried about work, and not about you?” 

Rey frowns. “Why would you worry about me?”

“He must be ten years older than you! And I know his angle, so I’m assuming you didn’t come into this with any prior experience?” 

“I can’t see why either of those things matter.” 

“He’s using you.” 

“He’s not.” 

Finn’s nostrils flare. 

“You have feelings for him.” 

Rey shakes her head. “Don’t be absurd. It’s work. We’re making a lot of money.” 

“Yeah, that’s just the thing, Rey. He’s making a lot of money out of you. He’s taking advantage of your infatuation with him. You would’ve never even considered making porn, porn, Rey, if it wasn’t for him!” 

He’s not entirely wrong, but he’s wrong enough.

“You don’t know me, nor what I would or wouldn’t do if it wasn’t for him,” Rey hisses.

“If I don’t know you it’s not from a lack of trying! You don’t give away anything, ever, do you? Not to anyone! And the one person that somehow managed to reach you uses it to coax you into making porn!” Half a dozen pairs of eyes turn in their direction. “And that’s so messed up it makes me want to smash his face.”

Rey is an inch away from slapping him, but even through her fury, she can tell Finn truly worries. About her. 

It’s misguided of course, but it’s still something. 

“Thank you for your concern, but I have nothing more to add to this conversation.” 

“Rey, wait—”

But she doesn’t. 

“Rey!” Finn calls out from behind her back. “This won’t end the way you want it to!”

***

Ben watches Rey disappear along with Dameron’s boyfriend. 

“That might be one awkward conversation,” he says to Poe. 

“Yeah,” Poe agrees. “Speaking of awkward conversations…”

Ben turns back to Poe, who’s staring back at him under furrowed brows.

“What?” 

“Is it really smart to extend your arrangement beyond the bedroom?” 

“What arrangement?”

“The pet wife one.” 

“We haven’t extended it,” Ben says, “that’s just when the cameras are rolling.” 

Poe squints. “Are you sure you’ve discussed the rules with her?” 

“Of course I have.”

“Benjamin, you brought her here in her goddamn slave collar—”

“Don’t call it that!” Ben snaps. 

“What is it then? Huh? A fucking engagement ring?” 

Ben doesn’t mean to fall silent, but he does, if only for a heartbeat or two. Poe drops his face into his hands and groans.

“You idiot. You absolute idiot. That’s even worse! Does she even know that necklace was meant to be a prop?” 

Ben doesn’t say anything, but he can feel a treacherous nerve twitching underneath his eye.

“Fucking hell, Solo, don’t tell me you’ve dolled her up for your own amusement without her explicit consent?” 

Ben grits his teeth. “It was a gift.”

“A gift you gave her while recording while telling her all sorts of naughty things, and there she is, walking around with it without realizing what it means.” 

“It doesn’t mean anything,” Ben objects.

“It does. You’re not crushing on her, you’re in love with her.” 

“Shut up.” Ben waves dismissively in Poe’s direction.

“Have you told her?” 

Once more, Poe reads the answer on Ben’s face.

“So she thinks it’s nothing but a working relationship, but you fuck her simply because you want to, in whatever way you want to. Is it just me, or do we have a tiny little issue on our hands?” 

Ben opens his mouth, only to close it again. 

“It’s not as if I’m hurting her,” he mutters. “I just happen to like her a little bit more than she likes me.”

“You’re fucking her for fun, Benjamin, but she doesn’t know you aren’t working. That’s fucked up.” 

Ben knows it is. He knows he hasn’t been upfront, he knows he’s broken his own rules, he’s known all along, and he still went ahead…

“So what do I do?”

“Well, you could start by telling her.” 

***

Rey pushes her way through the sea of bodies, back to Ben and Poe. The two men break away from each other and smile.

“Heeeey, girl,” Poe says. “Everything alright?”

He throws a glance over Rey’s shoulder, undoubtedly looking for his boyfriend. 

“We’re fine,” Rey quickly replies. “Ben, another drink?” 

She grabs hold of Ben’s hand and walks back to the staircase without waiting for his response. 

“What did he say?” Ben asks as they reach the bottom floor.

“Nothing. Or I guess he warned me about the dangers of doing porn.” 

It’s not a lie, but not the full truth either. 

“Right.” Ben nods. “And… Are you taking his advice?” 

And miss out on the few more days she has left with him? Nope. 

Rey shakes her head. “Have you seen the money we’re making?” 

Maybe it’s just the poor lighting, but Ben’s face darkens. “I have.”  

People part as if they’re the Red Sea meeting Moses when Ben heads toward the bar with Rey in tow. Moments later, she’s holding a pink drink in her hand. It tastes like strawberries. 

Ben sips on his equally pink drink while bobbing his head in sync with the music, looking everywhere but at her, and even though Rey’s gotten used to his tendency to randomly space out, the silence between them still feels different. 

“I would’ve guessed you’d go for a whiskey.”

“And miss out on this?” Ben gives his drink a little shake. “Never.” 

They both fall quiet again, and Rey searches for salvation at the bottom of her glass. When there’s none to be found, she orders another one and tries again. Ben isn’t far behind, and when someone pushes their way past him, forcing him to take a step closer to Rey, he doesn’t step back again. 

The alcohol paired with his immediate presence makes Rey’s head swim and her legs tingle. 

“Did you and Poe discuss anything specific?” she asks.

Ben’s gaze between her mouth and her eyes while he takes a slow sip of his drink, and the look he gives her almost makes her squirm. 

“Nah,” he finally says. “He just thanked me for sponsoring his party.” 

“Right.”

Rey can’t say what it is, but something about him makes her feel almost as nervous as she did when she first came to his house. Maybe it’s the suit? Or maybe it’s the way his fingers brush against hers when he replaces her empty glass with another drink. 

“This is my last one,” she announces, “or I won’t be able to stand.” 

Ben grins and leans in. “I’ll carry you.”

***

Her giggle is infectious, and Ben has to force himself to stop staring at her. 

And then, his worst nightmare comes true.

“Do you wanna dance?” 

If it had been anyone else on the face of this Earth who asked him, the answer would’ve been I’d rather die, but unfortunately, it is Rey who’s asking, all bright-eyed and bubbly. 

“Sure.” 

The dance floor is a mayhem of blaring music, flashing lights, moving bodies, and some very public displays of affection, but Ben does his best to accept his fate, just to keep that smile on Rey’s face. 

Is Ben a natural-born dancer? No.

Does he remain on the dance floor until Rey is ready to go home? Yes. 

They down one last drink as they wait for their Uber, and while Rey most definitely is still standing, she is a little wobbly in her high heels, and Ben offers his arm to make sure she makes it to the car without snapping an ankle. 

“Thank you for bringing me,” she says as they half-fall into the backseat of the car. “It’s been a long time since I went to a party.” 

“Did you have a good time?”

“Yeah. But it feels good to leave, too.”

Her pinkie stays on top of his the entire car ride home. 

The house is a different place in the middle of the night. The darkness is almost complete, save for the faint light that falls from the street lights outside Ben’s house, and it’s so quiet it’s as if the building itself is sleeping. Rey steps out of her heels and pads over to her room, while Ben drapes his suit jacket over the back of a kitchen chair. 

“Ben?” 

“Yes?”

“I need help,” Rey half-whispers. “With the button.”

All Ben can see is the outline of her body as she waits on the threshold of her room with her back turned to him. He can’t resist the temptation to slide a finger up her spine, all the way up to the button at the nape of her neck. 

She doesn’t object. Ben’s brain frizzles out, and his fingers move on their own. First, Ben undoes the button, and when she doesn’t move away, he slowly slides the silk off to the sides of her shoulders until the fabric of the dress balances scrunched up at the very edges of her shoulders, a hair’s breadth away from falling down her arms. Ben pauses with his hands splayed out over her shoulder blades. Every part of him is hyper-aware of her, searching for any indication that she wants him to stop, but she doesn’t move. 

Is she even breathing?

Is he even breathing? 

Ben’s hands glide up her shoulder blades, over the curves of her shoulders, and down her arms, and the dress falls to her waist. 

***

Stray hairs from her dissolving updo shift against her neck as Ben’s breath catches hold of them, his hands skim the small of her waist, and Rey stands frozen before him, terrified a single movement on her part will prompt him to stop. While her naked back stays warm from his radiating body heat, the same can’t be said for her front, and when Ben’s fingers brush over her already stiff nipples, she almost moans. 

Or maybe she does moan, because his tentative touch grows firmer, and her back soon leans against his chest as his hands wander up and down her body. Hot lips press against her shoulder, up her neck, the corner of her mouth, and Rey spins in his arms. She lifts her hands, praying he can’t see how they shake, and reaches for his fly. A few fumbling attempts later, it falls apart. She slowly opens the top button of his shirt, and the next one, and the one after that. She pauses in between each button to give him the opportunity to back out, but he simply looks at her, with the most peculiar expression on his face. 

Not that Rey has the bravery to look at him for more than a fraction of a second at the time, because even though they might’ve done this, or versions of this, time and time again, this could just as well be the very first time she undresses him. 

Ben shrugs out of his shirt once she’s opened all of its buttons, and Rey slides a hand up his chest, over smooth skin and tensed muscles. Rey shimmies out of the dress that’s clinging to her hips and takes another step closer. It’s usually he who leads, who touches, who uncovers, but Rey can’t help herself, she needs to kiss that neck, cling to those shoulders, press every inch of her body against his, and he lets her, under half-closer lids and with his head slightly tilted, baring his throat, and he’s never been more beautiful. She kisses her way up the tendon of his neck, along his jaw, cupping it in her hands and coaxing him to tilt his head back down again. 

His pupils are wide-blown in the dark. 

She’ll die if he refuses her now, yet she holds back, once more offering him a few moments to make up his mind. Seconds that feel like hours pass, before Rey slips her hands into his hair, and his hands close over her back, caging her in.

His lips are soft and gentle against hers, as if he’s asking for permission, which is odd, because he usually takes whatever he wants, and she’s been happy to give all of it away.

Then again, she’s only ever slept with Kylo Ren. Never with Ben Solo. 

The thought twirls around in her head and makes her twice as drunk as she actually is, and thrice as bold. 

She unzips his pants while they’re still kissing, and he groans into her mouth when she palms him through his boxers. 

“Take them off,” she says.

Ben’s pants and underwear fall to the floor along with her panties. Rey takes his hand and guides him to the single bed she’s been calling hers for the past few days, and gestures to him to get in first. 

The bed looks even smaller with Ben on top of it. 

Rey climbs on top of him and leans in for a kiss. He meets her halfway, and it’s little more than a peck, but there’s something simmering underneath, something desperate. 

He’s holding back. 

*** 

The last shreds of his self-restraint are slipping out of Ben’s grasp, but he draws a deep breath and forces himself to not think about the way Rey’s grinding against him, just for a few seconds. He’s determined to let her have his way with him, and not the other way around, because of some murky logic his intoxicated brain has cooked up for him; if she leads, he isn’t as much in the wrong as he would be if it was the other way around.

It still isn’t exactly right either, but Ben doesn’t have that much self-restraint, and he would drop dead if she asked him to stop now. 

His fingers sink deep into the flesh of her hips as she sinks down on top of him.

“Fuck…” she sighs as he fills her up entirely and Ben almost breaks.

It’s torture, the way she moves is nothing but slow and glorious torture.  

He wants to set the pace, fuck her harder, wants to pull her to his face and eat her out, but above all else, he wants her to have whatever she wants. 

But it’s maddening, watching her move without adding something to drag her closer to the edge. He’ll die if she doesn’t come soon, he needs her to come, he needs to watch her—

Kylo Ren would just tell her to. 

“Can I—” he cuts himself off, but it’s too late.

She stops moving and turns her unfocused eyes to his. “Can you what?” 

Hopefully, it’s dark enough to hide his burning cheeks. 

“Can I watch you come?” he whispers. “Please?” 

A little smirk blooms on her lips.

“Okay.” 

Ben’s vision blurs as she sticks a hand in between her legs. She is all there is. 

Could Poe have a point? Should he tell her? Maybe she’d say it back. Maybe she wouldn’t look this blissed out if there wasn’t anything other than physical attraction between them? 

“Fuck,” she says again. “Oh…” 

She falls with her back arched, and Ben would happily do nothing other than watch her come for the rest of his life. She flops forward once she’s finished, and Ben closes his arms around her back. They pause like that for a few seconds, with her face hidden in the crook of his neck. 

“Now you,” she hums in his ear.

Ben is too far gone to fully understand spoken language. “W-what?”

Her lips brush against the shell of his ear. “I wanna watch you come, Ben.” 

And with that, she sits back up and slowly starts to move her hips again. 

People watch Ben come all the time, yet he’s never felt this exposed before. There’s a hunger in her eyes, a wickedness that burns red hot, and Ben can’t keep their eye contact, it’s too intense and he doesn’t know if he’s ever been harder.

“Go on…” she hums as his eyes fall shut.

His hands grab her hips even tighter, firm enough to make her groan, and he bucks into her with everything he’s got. 

He comes under a string of curses and with her nails burrowed deep into his skin. 

The bed is narrow, and Rey barely fits next to him even though she’s lying on her side with her head on his shoulder, and with his arm around her back.

“Do you want me to—”

“Stay,” she whispers without looking at him. 

Ben simply nods.

Maybe he should tell her. Not now, when they’re both drunk, but maybe tomorrow.

But when tomorrow becomes today, Ben finds himself alone in her bed.

Chapter Text

Rey walks around Ben’s kitchen like a zombie. She spills coffee powder on the counter as she fumbles to prep the coffee maker, and she burns her fingers on the machine that she apparently turned on without filling it up first. Brilliant. 

She can’t blame all of her mishaps on her hangover either, no, her night with Ben is every bit as responsible for her uselessness as the many strawberry drinks she practically inhaled are. Then again, she probably wouldn’t have fucked him without those drinks under her belt.

He certainly wouldn’t have fucked her without those drinks under his belt. 

A noise from the other side of the house tells Rey that Ben’s waking up, and in a few moments, he will step into the kitchen to apologize and tell her they made a mistake. 

That it didn’t mean anything. 

He’ll unknowingly break her, and then she’ll be forced to spend an entire day in his house without touching him, not even once. 

“Fuck,” she mutters. “Fuck.” 

“Good morning,” Ben says from behind her back. 

Rey spins. He’s wearing nothing but his black sweatpants, and she almost chokes on her own saliva. All of that skin was hers a few hours ago. 

Ben scratches his neck. “Listen… About last night…”

She can’t hear him say it again. She just can’t.

“I know,” she says as she reaches for two mugs. “We were drunk. It was just a mistake.” 

He looks a little taken aback as if he wasn’t expecting her to put him out of his misery and say what needed to be said before he did. One of his indecently sized hands pushes his hair out of his face. 

“Right.” He shrugs. “So, we’re… good?” 

“We’re perfect,” Rey chirps. “Although, since we agreed we’d take today off, I think I’ll head home.”

Ben frowns. “Home? But that’s a two-hour train ride.”

“Yes. But you know, I have laundry. And plants.”

“Plants?” 

“They need water.” 

Ben reaches for his coffee with a blank expression on his face. The hangover must’ve gotten to him. 

“Alright,” he says. “I’ll just need to finish this and take a shower, and then I’ll drive you to the station.” 

***

“See you tomorrow, then,” she says before jumping out of his car.

“Do you need me to carry your bag?”

“Nah, I’m good. See you.” 

“See you,” Ben says, but she’s already slammed the door shut. 

He fucked up, like he knew he would. She must’ve seen it written all over his face last night when she rode him within an inch of his life. God, he’s an idiot. 

The car ride back to his house passes in a haze, and Ben walks into his house with heavy steps. The kitchen chair closest to the window, where she usually sits perched up like some sort of strange bird while working on whatever it is she’s doing, is left slightly pulled out from the table as if she’s simply popped off to the bathroom. Ben squeezes the chair’s backrest with both hands and sighs, but he leaves the chair where he found it. 

He tries to edit some footage, but staring at her face (well, frankly, at the complete collection of all of her body parts) does nothing other than pull him deeper into his hole of self-pity. With another sigh, he yeets a video of their first fuck post-ovulation test, and the response is immediate. Ever since Rey moved in with him, there’s been a surge of new subscribers, and surprisingly, most of them are female. Surely, you could make some sort of feminist analysis about the fact that a shit load of women’s deepest desire is simply to be adored and cared for (and getting railed in every way imaginable), but Ben never reaches a conclusion to his thesis, because his phone rings. Ben stares at its screen, and he’s not surprised that it reads Poe followed by the handful of hearts and rainbows that Dameron added himself years ago.

“Hello.”

“Hi, Benny!” Dameron sounds provocatively perky for a man who undoubtedly closed his party last night by swimming in tequila. 

Ben bites down to keep from groaning. “What’s up? Did you have a good time?” 

“I did, I did, but never mind that, I saw you leaving with your so-called co-worker clinging to your arm like a koala to a tree, and I just figured maybe you guys talked things out?” 

“Um…” Ben pauses for a bit too long. “She was just a little bit tipsy, and needed the support.” 

“So you still haven’t talked to her?” The disappointment in Dameron’s voice is strikingly similar to the one in Ben’s mother’s whenever he refuses her repeated suggestions of following in his uncle’s footsteps and becoming a lawyer. 

“Well, I haven’t talked to her, but she told me just this morning that we’re nothing but colleagues, so, you know…”

“She really said that?”

“Yeah.”

“Finn says he’s certain she’s smitten with you.”

“She just went back to her place, because we have the day off, so I’m pretty sure she’s not.” 

Saying the words out loud makes Ben’s chest feel like it’s two sizes too small, like it’s cramping around his lungs.

“What? She went home? Why?”

Ben shrugs, even though Dameron can’t see it. “She had laundry.” 

“You have a washer.” 

“And she has plants.” 

“Plants?” Dameron scoffs. “What did you do?”

“Nothing.” 

“Benjamin, don’t lie.” 

Ben stares at the ceiling, contemplating hanging up, but Dameron would simply show up at his house if he did. 

“We slept together.” 

To his credit, Dameron doesn’t miss a beat. “Slept-slept or fucked-slept?” 

“Both.” 

“Benjamin…”

“I know. But she was into it, at the time, at least.” 

“But..?”

“She said it was a drunken mistake.” 

“Ouch.” 

“Yeah.” 

“I’m sorry, buddy. So, no more collab?” 

“I don’t know, I mean… She said she’ll come back tomorrow.”

“Is that wise?” Dameron’s answer to his question is apparent in the tone he uses. 

“It’s just a few more days, it’ll be fine. I’ll simply do what I do, and then we’ll go our separate ways.” Ben tries his best to sound unbothered. “On the bright side, all of us, including you, will come out of this far richer than we were a few weeks ago.”

Dameron sighs. “I never should’ve suggested this…”

“Don’t worry, it’s just a crush, I’ll be fine. Everything’s gonna be fine.” 

***

Rey doesn’t have plants, she has exactly one plant, and it’s a cactus that looks exactly the way it did when she left her home not two weeks ago. Everything else looks the same as well, it’s as if she just went to work for the day and then came back, yet nothing is the same. She drops her bag and her keys by the door and moves through her place, past furniture she’s bought herself, but it all seems… off. The apartment has everything one could need to stay alive, but there are no family photos on the walls, no trinkets from far away places randomly scattered across her shelves, there’s nothing pinned to her fridge, and the right end of her couch looks as if no one has ever sat on it. 

Rey bites down. Laundry, she has laundry to do. In truth, maybe it’s not that pressing, but if she doesn’t wash her clothes, she’ll feel like a big, fat liar, and besides, she does need something to occupy herself with. 

It takes her about thirteen minutes to gather enough dirty laundry to fill a machine and hit start . And then, she just stands there, in the basement, staring at her clothes as they go round and round, without any idea of what to do with herself. So, like any idle human being of today, Rey reaches for her phone only to realize that Ben has posted and that her JustFans-inbox is overflowing with notifications. 

herbalabuse

🔥🔥🔥

coliegirl

insane

Okapijones

what a perfect little wife you got there kylo

lafemmeluna

Awwww look at the way she looks at him

Yeah, look at the way she looks at him. Rey scrunches her nose, shoves her phone back into her pocket, and climbs the stairs back to her apartment while muttering a string of curses under her breath. In a few days, they will end their fake relationship and stop filming, and Rey will return to her apartment once more, without the promise of seeing Ben ever again. Rey’s fingers mindlessly move along the uneven surface of her necklace. 

It won’t hurt today.

But soon.

***

Ben tries his best to contain the grin his face automatically pulls into as soon as he spots Rey among the avalanche of people that flow through the train doors. She smiles back at him, but there might be a hint of tension in her features. 

“Hey.” He says while giving her a one-armed hug. “Ready to put on a show?” 

Rey pulls away from him as soon as his grip on her loosens. “Yeah.”  

“Did you have a good day yesterday? Did you do anything fun?” 

“No.” Rey shakes her head for emphasis. “Just laundry." 

“Right.” Ben reaches for her bag. “Let me carry that for you.” 

The bag doesn’t weigh half as much as it did when she arrived the last time, which makes sense since they only have a few days left of shooting, but the half-empty bag is heavy in a different way, and it forces Ben to once more sort his face out. He won’t allow any displays of moping around her, nor anything that could be interpreted as anything other than collegial friendliness, no, he’ll be the epitome of professionalism, and when she eventually does leave, he’ll handle it with grace.

Well, probably not, but that’s future Ben’s problem, and present-day Ben has better things to focus on anyway, like how the sun catches in her hair on their walk back to his car, giving it an almost golden tint. 

“Do I have something on my face?” Rey suddenly asks.

“Huh?” 

“You’re looking at me funny.”

“Oh.” So much for professionalism. “It’s nothing.” 

Her cheeks turn a little pink. “Alright.” 

The first few minutes during their car ride together are painfully quiet, and Ben retorts to talk about the one topic he knows Rey can’t stay indifferent about.

“Have you eaten lunch already?”

The shift in her energy is almost palpable. “Well, no. I didn’t have much at home.” 

“Chicken bacon sandwich when we get back?” 

Ben can see her big grin from the corner of his eye. “Yes, please.” 

***

Ben immediately starts to move around in his kitchen, and Rey plops herself down on the chair closest to the window. Rey isn’t surprised to see Ben toss a towel over his left shoulder, nor when he starts humming some old song from God knows when, because she’s witnessed it many times before, seated in this very chair. 

A chair he never sits in.

Is it her chair?

God, she’s in far too deep. A few more days of this pretend life, and then… it’s back to the cubicle and her empty apartment. 

Ben’s voice suddenly cracks at a particularly high note, and Rey can’t help but snort. She won’t worry about after, until after all of this is over. For now, she’s here, and he’s here, and soon, he’ll fuck her as if he does love her. 

***

It’s a little bit stiff at first, but they soon fall into their roles of Kylo and Kira, and the awkwardness that’s followed their undocumented night together melts away. He knows this. He knows what angles work best, knows how to make himself last long enough, and most importantly, he knows how to make her come. 

God, he bloody loves watching her come. 

But she’ll have to wait for it for a little bit longer this time, he got to think about the fans, and they want to see her squirm for a bit first. 

Maybe he does too.

But who can blame him? Who wouldn’t love having the world’s most beautiful woman begging them to fuck her? 

The crowd might however not be overjoyed to watch them do the missionary for god knows how long, but that’s what they’re gonna get. They can leave any complaints with Poe because Ben doesn’t care, not when it’s so very easy to pretend she’s actually his when she looks up at him with those doe eyes, when she reaches for him with such desperation, when her soft lips catch his again and again and again. 

***

It’s not even a fantasy anymore, it’s a dream. Having Ben Solo on top of her, with his wandering lips pressing kisses wherever he can reach, is a dream. Rey sinks into it without hesitation, fully emerging herself in this play-pretend marriage of theirs, gasping at each and every one of his kisses, no matter where they touch her skin. Ben pulls back to meet her gaze, with pupils so widely blown that his eyes look like ink. His mouth pulls into a brief smile, before he leans back down, resting his weight on his forearms, and kisses her again with such determination it makes her toes curl. 

He sprinkles more ever-so-soft kisses across her skin, and each one sends a spark up her spine.

One kiss against her cheek, another lands on her neck, and yet another one brushes over her ear. He pauses there, in the crook of her neck, but only for a second, before he nudges the side of her neck with the tip of his nose. He takes a deep breath, and for whatever reason, Rey tenses up, as if she’s standing on the edge of a cliff. 

“I…” Her hair tickles against the shell of her ear as he speaks. “I love you.” 

The three words fill Rey’s head just as violently as if they had been the screeching sirens from Kill Bill. Bile rises at the back of her throat. 

She’s given him permission to flaunt, to fetishize, to play with every last inch of her, but she never thought he’d reach for this. 

For her bone-deep, pathetic longing to belong. 

He can have everything, but that. 

“Pineapple,” she whispers. 

***

Ben instantly stops moving and lifts his head from her ear to look at her face. It’s completely blank. 

“What?” 

“I said, pineapple.”  

It’s a growl this time, and Ben more or less jumps backwards. The second she’s able to move away, she flies out of the bed and starts pulling her gray set of sweats onto her body with her back turned toward him.

“Hey, Rey,” he says. “Hold up, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean—”

She furiously spins around to face him. “I KNOW YOU DIDN’T!” 

And with that, she storms out of the room, leaving Ben to desperately search for a pair of boxers left forgotten somewhere on the floor.

“Rey!” he shouts, but she doesn’t answer.

He can hear her rushing around his house, undoubtedly looking for her phone, or maybe her keys. Whatever it was, she seems to have found it by the time Ben half-jumps out of the studio with his boxers still hanging halfway down his ass, because she throws something into her purse, and proceeds to shove her feet into her shoes.

“Rey, we need to talk about this,” he says as calmly as he can.

She looks at him with murder in her eyes. “There’s nothing to talk about.” 

“Rey,” Ben says again because apparently, he’s incapable of saying anything else, “Wait.”

She doesn’t listen this time either, she simply rushes out the door. He’s about to fucking lose her. 

“Wait!” he howls and sprints through the door himself. 

Barefoot and almost naked he leaps three strides forward and grabs her by her upper arm. 

“Please, wait—”

Rey yanks her arm free. “I do not consent to you following me!” 

Ben doesn’t try to touch her again, but he does follow her for a few more steps, before coming to a stop halfway down his driveway, acutely aware of the fact that his next-door neighbor is standing on the other side of the hedge with a pair of massive shears in his hands. 

“Rey, please!” 

A metallic rattling is the only response he gets, as her golden collar hits the pavement.

Chapter Text

Ben stands frozen in his place as Rey disappears around the corner, and not a single thought inside his mangled brain strings together with another one. Robotically, he turns back to his front door, but he only makes it a few steps before his neighbor, Mr. Calrissian, yanks him out of his head.

“Hey,” he grunts. “She dropped something.”

Ben wouldn’t use the word dropped to describe the way she threw her collar onto the ground, but he nods nonetheless and walks down his driveway to fetch it. It’s still warm against his fingers. 

“Shit…” 

Ben rubs his eye with the heel of his palm in a hopeless attempt to clear his vision. 

“Did you hurt that girl?” 

“Not intentionally.”

Mr. Calrissian knits his brows together, looking sterner than Ben has ever seen him before. 

“Do I have to call your father?” 

He’s not only Ben’s neighbor, he also happens to be his father’s best friend, and he certainly wouldn’t hesitate to call Han if he thought it to be necessary. Imagine that phone call, hey I think your son just raped a girl, you might wanna come home and beat some sense into him.

“No, you don’t have to call my father. I messed up, but she’s not hurt. Not physically, anyway.” 

The stern expression on Mr. Calrissian’s face melts away. 

“I liked that one the best out of all of your… friends.”

Ben walks back up his driveway with feet that feel like lead, compulsively twirling Rey’s collar in his hands. “Yeah. Me too.” 

***

Rey doesn’t cry in the Uber, on the train, or during the walk back home from the station, but the second the door of her apartment falls shut behind her, it’s like she’s being ripped apart. 

She knew, she knew, it would eventually hurt, but she hadn’t realized he’d care so little about her that he would go ahead and use her desperation to be… well, loved, for content. 

Sobs tear their way out of her chest as she makes her way over to her bed. She curls around herself underneath her duvet and wraps her arms around her knees to keep from falling apart as her sobbing turns into full-body convulsions. 

Hours later, she wakes up in darkness, and for a second, for the shortest of seconds, she doesn’t remember what just happened, or where she is.

For a second, she’s still pretending to be his wife.

It’s like going through it all over again when she remembers what he said. Half-blind with tears, she stumbles through her apartment, all the way to her front door, to hoist her phone out of her purse to check the time.

It’s 01.23, and Ben has called her fifteen times and texted her once. Call me, it says, please.

Don’t call me, she texts back, ever. 

A familiar numbness seeps through her bones as she blocks his number. 

He never happened. 

***

Ben spends all night considering going over to her place, of course he does, but she clearly needs some space, and he prefers to not make things worse. Surely, she’ll come around once she’s settled down? Not that he expects her to resume their collaboration, but maybe she’ll at least give him the chance to apologize properly. He needs to explain, he needs her to understand how truly sorry he is for being unable to keep his feelings under control and messing everything up. 

But when morning finally comes, Ben reaches for his phone and finds a text she sent him in the middle of the night. Don’t call me, ever.  

It’s like getting stabbed with a knife. 

He knew she didn’t feel the same way about him as he does about her, but he never would’ve guessed his affections would disgust her to the extent that she’d cut all ties with him. But here he is now, without as much as a thread left between them. 

“Fuck…” 

Going for a run doesn’t help, obsessively cleaning his kitchen doesn’t help, showering blistering hot and then freezing cold doesn’t work, all he can think of, no matter how hard he tries not to, is her face as she told him to stop. They had a working agreement, and he broke her trust. Worst of all, he did it knowingly. 

He never should’ve invited her back, at least not without telling her the truth first. 

But he did invite her back, and he did sleep with her repeatedly without telling her he didn’t care about the money or the fans or anything other than her, and he shouldn’t have done that.

Maybe Mr. Calrissian should’ve called Ben’s dad after all. 

***

Rey returns to work a few days later, with a plan to use the pretend-dead pretend-grandmother to explain her puffy face, but nobody asks, instead, everyone is doing their very best to stay away from her as if she’s carrying something contagious. Rey doesn’t mind in the slightest.

Her biggest worry is to face Finn. He probably can’t wait to rub her face in the fact that he was right. Didn’t I tell you you were nothing but his toy? 

Rey’s fingers reach for her neck for the twentieth time today, only to yet again find it bare. She inhales sharply, willing herself to keep moving through the office. All she has to do is simply keep on working, not think about Ben, and eventually, all of this will fade away. It must fade away.

Finn’s already sitting in his cubicle, staring at the screen in front of him. 

“Hi,” Rey says while dropping her bag on her desk.

“Hey.” Finn looks up and gives her a nod. “Welcome back.” 

Rey can feel herself blush. “Thanks.” 

“Are you okay?” 

“Yep.”

“Great.” Finn’s attention returns to his computer.

He doesn’t act like he doesn’t believe her, nor does he mention her fallout with Ben, and Rey can’t help but wonder if it’s because Finn doesn’t care to hear about her catastrophic love life, or if Poe simply hasn’t told him how things ended between Ben and her. It’s most likely the first alternative and the reminder that she has absolutely no one does nothing to lift her spirits. 

God, she’s such a waste of space. 

Finn looks up at her again. “Are you sure you’re okay?” 

“Absolutely.” 

***

The days are crawling by, minute by torturous minute. Ben doesn’t even know what he’s been doing the last couple of days, it’s as if he’s trapped in a haze, far away from reality. It’s a defense mechanism, he supposes, because every time he remembers that she doesn’t love him, something in his chest hurts about as much as a kick in the balls does. He checks his phone again, only to find nothing but a handful of texts from Poe, urging him to call him. Ben doesn’t. He does however try to call Rey again, but his calls still don’t make it through.

He’s even tried to send her a JustFans-DM, but she hasn’t been online since she left his house.

And his life.

He can’t see how the hell he’s supposed to move for—

“My God, Benjamin, who fucking died?” 

He should’ve learned by now that Poe doesn’t give a shit about personal boundaries. Well, that, and to remember to lock his goddamn front door. 

“Not this again.” Ben groans.

“Yes, this, again.” Poe squints at him. “Don’t blame me, it’s you who suddenly can’t be bothered to use your phone.”  

Poe steps further into Ben’s living room, and his face pulls into an odd grimace.

“How long has it been since you took a shower?” 

Ben shrugs. He doesn’t even know what day it is. 

“I don’t understand why you can’t be both clean and depressed at the same time.” Poe huffs as he pinches a pair of used underwear between his thumb and index finger and tosses them onto the floor, in order to clear some space on the sofa. He sits down, takes a long look at Ben, and the disapproving frown on his face softens. “What happened?” 

Ben shrugs again. “I did what you told me to do.” 

“You told her you’re interested in her?” 

“Something like that. And now she’s blocked me.”

Ah, another good ball kick straight in his chest.

“Blocked you?” Poe knits his brows together. “She blocked you because you asked her out on a date? That’s weird.” 

If the floor could swallow Ben whole at this precise moment in time, that would be swell. “I didn’t put it quite like that.” 

“How did you put it?”

“I told her…” Ben pauses and stares out the window for a few seconds. “I told her that I love her.” 

Poe’s jaw literally drops.

“You went straight for that? Buddy…” 

“It just slipped out…”

“That’s sorta stalker-y.” 

“I know.”

“You’re usually so cautious with your girls, Benjamin? Like you never shut up about boundaries and expectations, but with this one? You really dropped the ball.”

It’s a rare sight to see Poe Dameron being annoyed, but it’s what Ben deserves. Not only did he break Rey’s trust, but he fucked with Poe’s financial security as well. 

“Yep.” 

“And you’re sure that’s why she left?”

“Positive.” 

“And do you?”

“Do I what?”

Poe sighs and runs a hand over his face. “Love her.”

“Oh.” A vision of Rey’s smiling face floats through Ben’s mind. “Yes.” 

“I’m sorry, man.” 

“It is what it is.” 

Poe pats Ben’s knee. “And what now?” 

Yes, what now? Ben returns his gaze to the tree that’s gently moving in the wind outside his window, but its beauty is lost on him. 

“I think…” Ben says. “I think it’s time you find another job.” 

***

It’s been almost two weeks since Rey left Ben’s house, which is the same amount of time that she actually spent there, but the first two weeks couldn’t have been any more different from the past couple of weeks, weeks that she’s barely survived. It doesn’t make any sense, but going through her everyday life, something she’s been doing for years and years feels like she’s forcing herself to wear a pair of jeans that doesn’t quite fit compared to how easy life had felt when she was with him. 

It’s so quiet, her life. 

She misses his sighs of relief when he takes his first sip of his morning coffee, misses his humming, and the reassuring depth of his voice.

She misses his hands on her skin, even though she shouldn’t. 

It had felt real, at times. As if he did love her.

Rey stays far away from those memories; of his hands reaching for hers after they’d finished shooting, of his sleeping body curled around hers when she woke up next to him in the guest room, of the way he always looked at her whenever she spoke. 

No, she doesn’t think about those moments. Her delusions have caused her enough problems already, and she needs to let go of him. Of them.

Rey’s finishing up after another endless day of work by trying to force the printer to function properly, but it’s fruitless of course, since printers aren’t made, they’re forged in hell by the devil himself, and she’s just about to give up when Finn slips into the small, hot copy room. He closes the door behind him, and he doesn’t look like a man who’s about to fight a copy machine.

“Hey…” Finn rubs his neck. 

His body is effectively blocking Rey’s only escape route, and it can’t be a coincidence. He’s trapping her on purpose. 

“Hi.” 

“We need to talk.” 

Rey’s heart might break her ribs from the inside at any second now. “About what?”

“About you. You’re not okay.” 

“I’m great.” 

A bead of sweat trickles down Rey’s spine. 

“You’re never particularly talkative, but you haven’t said a word other than ‘hi’ lately.” 

“I don’t have anything to say.”

Finn scoffs. “Rey, come on. I know that you and Ben are done.”

Rey turns her back to him and tries to force the printer to work, but it only beeps another objection.

“Poe hasn’t told me any details though, he says it’s not his place, and I just want to be sure Ben didn’t hurt you.” 

“He didn’t,” Rey says, but it’s possible she’s giving Finn mixed signals, considering the fact that she’s simultaneously wiping her cheek. 

“What happened?”

“What you said was going to happen. I was just another girl to him, another toy.” 

“And you wanted something more?”

“I did.” Rey’s voice breaks. “I do.” 

Finn steps two steps forward and wraps Rey in his arms. It’s enough to wreck her. Finn is the only reason that she remains upright as she clings to his neck and stains his shirt with tears. It’s as if someone’s punched a hole straight through her chest and grabbed hold of her heart, and it aches so bad it might just as well be about to burst. 

“I’m a mess,” she sobs once she’s able to speak again. “And h-h-he is out there, sleeping with someone else.”

“He’s not,” Finn says.

Rey pulls back. “What?” 

“Not on camera, anyway.”

She hears his words, but she can’t fully comprehend them. Why wouldn’t he be filming with somebody else?

“Are you sure?”

“Well, Poe’s currently in between jobs, which is an unfortunate timing, by the way, since he blew most of his savings on his birthday party, I’d say I’m quite sure.” 

“But why?”

Finn shrugs. “He told Poe it would have to be with you, or no one at all.”

Her heart somersaults, but Rey’s quick to rein it back in.

“Because of the money we were making?” 

“Rey, honey… Whatever happened to you?” 

“Nothing.” She says it too quickly, and Finn crooks a brow at her.

“Sure,” Finn says, but he mercifully lets her off that particular hook. “Stop filming wouldn’t make much sense if all he wanted was money, would it?” 

“Maybe not. But I can’t see why else.”

“Maybe he’s into—”

“No,” Rey hisses. “Don’t.” 

Finn’s hands fly out from his body. “Fine. All I’m saying is that maybe you should talk to him.”

She won’t, but she still nods. “I’ll think about it.”

“Great.” Finn rolls on his heels, and even though it’s hard to tell due to his dark complexion, Rey’s pretty sure he’s blushing.

“Yes?”

“One more thing… It’s really not my place, but I, you know, worry.” 

About her? 

“You did, you know… I mean, I was curious so I asked Poe, and I—” Finn cuts himself off and looks as if he’s regretting every life decision he’s ever made.

“You?”

“I know. About your… um, specialty.” 

“Oh.” 

Finn might be blushing, but Rey certainly is.

“But it was fake, right? You did use some sort of, you know, protection?” 

This day sure took a turn Rey had not anticipated.

“Of course we did,” she huffs. “Plan B, if you absolutely need to know.” 

Finn exhales in relief. “Good, good. I just felt like you don’t need that on top of everything else.” 

He is worrying about her, again. If she wasn’t so prickly about the fact that he saw it fit to discuss her preventative methods, she might have teared up.

“That won’t be an issue,” Rey snaps. “I took one right before Poe’s party.” 

“Yeah, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

But Rey’s already stopped listening to Finn’s rambling excuses. She did take one, didn’t she? Surely, she must have… Rey forces herself to think back on a day she hasn’t allowed herself to reminisce about, not even once, since she left Ben’s place. She’s certain they fucked more than once that day because that was when they got so exhausted that they fell asleep after their last session, only to wake up and—

Ice floods her veins before lava instantly takes its place. 

“Rey?” Finn’s voice sounds warped and far away as if he’s talking underwater. “Are you okay?”

She steadies herself against the uncooperative printer.

“I have to go.” 

***

Ben is losing his mind. Without his normal routine of filming and editing, the days seem to bleed into each other, and it’s just hour upon hour of nothing. He tries to stay busy, he works out, he cleans every last part of his entire house, he watches the latest shows (but don’t ask him whatever might’ve happened in them), and he’s even called his parents, more than once, just to kill a few minutes of nothingness. 

Does he torture himself as well, by watching videos of Rey? 

Yes.

Sometimes he even manages to get a boner out of them, allowing him to close his eyes and pretend she’s still there with her hands and her skin and her mouth. 

Does he cry when he’s brutally returned to reality once he’s finished?

Also yes. Every time.

It’s not pretty, but this is life now. Work out, clean, wank, cry. One could argue it’s a rather pathetic existence, and Ben couldn’t agree more. 

It’s been almost two weeks since she left, and he hasn’t heard a single word from her, aside from that text where she told him to never call her again. It had been the wrong move, clearly, to tell her that, but why hasn't she reached out to him, not even to discuss the economic side of their arrangement? 

At first, he’d been nothing but outrageously sad and guilt-ridden over her silence, but now… Now there’s a hefty dose of annoyance mingled into his depression. 

Ben slams his dishrag into the sink. Did he truly mean so little to her, that he isn’t even worthy of her anger? Standing on the receiving end of an eye-to-eye scolding shouldn’t be too much to ask for, should it? 

He’s been cleaning for weeks now, the cracked skin of his hands is a testimony of that, and he’s just done. So done. He’s over it. He’s over being understanding and considerate, he might be a dick but he still thinks he deserves to hear her tell him off in person. 

Ben shoves his phone into his back pocket, yanks hold of his car keys, and rips the door open, only to almost knock someone over. 

“Ow,” he says as he bounces back from the impact. 

“Ouch,” the other person says. 

For a heartbeat, Ben thinks the brunette outside his door is his mother, but he swiftly realizes that that’s not the case.

“Rey?” 

“Hi.”

Chapter Text

Rey’s hazel eyes are framed by dark circles, her cheeks have sunken in, and her lips are pulled into a tight line instead of her signature grin. 

“Are you okay?”

It’s a stupid question because she’s clearly not. 

“No.” Her bottom lip quivers.

Watching her struggle to keep from bursting into tears makes Ben want to break things, preferably the face of whoever it was that upset her.

“It’s alright,” he says, perhaps more to his nerves than to her.

Rey shakes her head so violently that the messy bun in her hair falls apart, and she looks as if she’s about to collapse herself at any second. 

“Come in,” Ben holds the door open and steps out of her way. 

“I’m sorry,” she whispers as she steps inside. “I didn’t know where else to go.” 

“What’s wrong?” 

“I— I messed up.”

She isn’t crying, but her eyes are wide with something Ben would classify as panic. His hand shoots up to grab her hand, but he stops himself halfway and forces it to fall back down. 

“How?” 

Ben’s stomach twists into a tight knot as he waits for her to find her words. 

“It wasn’t on purpose, I swear.” 

“Whatever it is, it’s gonna be okay.”

A single tear rolls down her cheek. “You’ll be so angry with me.” 

Ben can’t imagine any scenario where he would be angry with her, even though he was fuming over her prolonged silence not five minutes ago. 

“It can’t be that bad.”

She looks as if she’s about to be sick. “It is. Or it could be, at least.”

“Rey, you’re freaking me out. What did you mess up?”

“I forgot,” she chokes out. 

“Forgot what?”

“The pill.”

It takes a few seconds for Ben’s brain to process the meaning behind her reply, but a memory of them rushing to get ready for Dameron’s party soon floats to the forefront of his mind.

“The… the Plan B-pill?”

Her face turns paper white. “Yes.” 

“Oh.” 

Silence falls between them as Ben tries to decide what he should say next, and Rey awaits his response with the same look in her eyes as a dog who knows it’s about to get kicked. 

“We forgot,” Ben states. “I should’ve reminded you.” 

Her shoulders drop several inches, and Ben’s stupid heart clenches. 

“It’s alright,” he says. “It’ll be alright, okay?”

She nods without much conviction. “I bought a test, but I haven’t dared to take it.”

“Did you bring it?”

She nods again and pulls a small package out of her handbag. “But it might be too soon.” 

“Do you wanna try now anyway? Or wait?”

“I think… I think I need to try now, or I’ll go insane.” 

“Yeah, of course. Um… Well, I guess you know the way to the bathroom…”

“I do.”

Ben’s hallway suddenly seems to have shrunken, and when Rey tries to step around Ben, Ben steps in the same direction in an attempt to let her pass him. They repeat their sidestepping two or three times over, mirroring each other, until Ben stops their little dance by gently grabbing Rey around her shoulders to keep her from moving again, and then steps out of her way.

“There.” 

Her brief smile doesn’t quite reach her eyes, but it’s a clear improvement to how petrified she’d been when she walked inside. Rey pauses outside the bathroom, inhales, and opens the door.

“Hey,” Ben says, and Rey turns to him. “It’ll be fine, you know. Whatever the outcome, you’ll be alright.” 

Once the door falls shut behind her, the full extent of what’s happening hits Ben like a freight train, and the knot in his stomach grows tighter, forcing him to plant a hand against the wall. 

She might be pregnant. 

With his kid. 

***

It feels absurd to be back in his bathroom, yet again peeing on a stick, but the stakes are much higher this time, and Rey’s hands shake as she snaps the cap back onto the test. She bolts back out the door and heads for the kitchen, where Ben’s sitting on a chair, just waiting for her return.

“Three to five minutes,” she mutters. “I can’t look.” 

“Don’t worry,” he says and picks the test out of her hand. “It will be alright.” 

He’s kind, for trying to comfort her, but surely he must know as well as she does that a baby would be the furthest thing from ideal. 

But at least he hasn’t yelled at her. 

Rey sinks into the chair where she always used to sit, and for a heartbeat, it’s as if she’s just sitting down to watch Ben make dinner after having spent the afternoon in the studio. He used to hum to himself while stirring his risottos or frying his fish, and Rey used to bask in the domesticity of it all. It had been so easy to pretend to be his wife. 

Everything else in life is so incredibly hard. 

Rey stares at Ben’s refrigerator without truly seeing it, instead, she imagines a toddler with ink-black curls. It’s silly of course, she’s hardly ready to become a mother, but maybe it’s not uncommon for the motherless to wonder if they could give someone what nobody gave to them.

If she could be the one no one was for her. 

Yes, if she’s being truly honest with herself, it would devastate her to give up a child, but she can’t force a man into raising a kid he never asked for, and she doesn’t earn enough to be able to do it herself. Or, she supposes he did ask for it, at times he even begged for it, but he was in character then, and those words meant about as much as those ghastly three words he decided to fling at her the last time they slept together. Rey flinches. She’s not thinking about that. 

“Times up,” Ben declares from the other side of the table.

Rey didn’t even notice when he sat down. She turns to him, and inside his closed hand lies something that could potentially change the entire course of her life. Her heart beats as fast as the one of a trapped bird. 

“Okay,” she says. “I can’t look.”

“I’ll look.” 

He opens his hand, and she knows the answer before he says anything, it’s written all over his beautiful, but shocked, face. 

“It says 1-2 weeks pregnant.” 

“Crap,” Rey whispers.

And then, then she cries. 

***

Ben stares at the letters on the little screen with a distinct sensation of falling until he realizes that Rey’s crying. It’s as if a dam burst open, she’s positively bawling, and Ben has never felt as useless as he does when she covers her face in her hands and more or less collapses over herself. 

“Hey,” he mumbles, “it’s going to be alright. I get that you weren’t planning on getting pregnant with a dude you’re not in love with, but I’m fine with whatever you wanna do next. I’ll be there.” 

Her crying stops as abruptly as it started. She removes her hands from her face and looks at Ben as if she’s never seen him before. 

“What did you say?” 

“That I’m fine with whatever?”

Rey shakes her head. “Before that.” 

Ben swallows. “Um, that I understand that getting knocked up by a guy you don’t love wasn’t the plan?”

“But I do.” 

Rey covers her mouth as if she wishes she could shove her words back in between her teeth. Ben’s brain comes to an absolute halt. Nothing inside his head is working properly, and all he can do is blankly stare back at her. 

“You…” Ben stutters. “You do?” 

“I’m sorry,” she says as if she’s admitting to a crime, “I didn’t mean to.” 

“You love me?”

The tears well back up in her eyes as she nods, but Ben’s too confused to find her any words of comfort.

“But… You ran away? When I said—”

Her face darkens as she cuts him off. “That was in character.” 

“It wasn’t,” Ben says. “I mean, I was supposed to be in character but…”

“It was.” 

“Rey…” Somewhere deep inside Ben’s brain, something clicks into place. “Did you leave because you think I don’t love you?” 

She scrambles out of her chair and half-leaps out of the kitchen, and her face is bright red with anger. “Of course you don’t.” 

Ben gets up so quickly that his chair topples over. It hits the floor with a bang, and Rey stares at the spectacle with wide eyes that only grow wider as Ben steps closer to her. She backs away from him in a manner that reminds Ben of a feral cat his mother used to feed, which always looked as if it was torn between the desire to stick around and the instinct to flee. 

“Can’t you see…” he says as he moves closer as slowly as he can. “That I worship the ground you walk on?” 

“Don’t be absurd.” 

He’s almost there, she’s almost within reach.

“Why wouldn’t I? Why wouldn’t I love you?” 

Her eyes flicker. “People just… don’t.” 

“But I do.” 

“No.” Tears still cling to her lashes. 

Ben reaches for her hand, and after a few seconds of hesitation, she grabs it. Her fingers disappear inside his fist. 

“It was the wrong time to say it,” Ben says, “but it wasn’t an act. Not much of it was if I’m being honest.” 

***

One would expect that being told that you’re pregnant should be the most life-altering thing a human being could ever hear, but no. Ben’s fingers are warm around hers and Rey’s poor overworked heart now races for an entirely different reason than before.

“I do love you,” he insists.

Rey scoffs. “Maybe you think you do.”

He leans a little closer as if he’s about to kiss her, and his smile morphs into a sly smirk Rey knows all too well. 

“Still don’t believe me? I’ll make you believe me.”

His lips are exactly as soft as she remembers them. The kiss soon turns more and more intense, and when they pull back, Ben’s eyes have turned black. 

“Come,” he says with a firm grip on her hand.

He leads the way down the hall, but he turns left instead of right, and Rey’s just about to protest when she realizes where he’s heading. 

He’s not guiding her to the studio like he’s done a thousand times before but to his bedroom. In theory, it’s just another room, but no place on the planet is as much Ben as this room is, and now she’s there, too, with him. 

He slides one hand up her neck, before closing the distance between them. They undress between sloppy kisses, and he drags her along with him into bed. 

“Your sheets smell like you,” she whispers.

“I’m sorry, I should’ve—”

Rey interrupts him with a quick press of her lips against his. “No, it’s a good thing.” 

“Oh.” 

She hides her face in the crook of his neck and inhales. God, how she’s missed this.

“I love the way you smell.”

Ben grins. “And I love you.”

She smiles back with a shake of her head. “Shut your face.”

***

Their kisses grow wilder and hungrier, as if they’re animals fighting over the last piece of meat. Ben supposes he should go easy on her, more gently, but her desperate energy matches his perfectly, and when her nails dig into his back, deep enough to make him hiss, all bets are off. 

“You had me worried sick,” he mutters next to her ear.

“I’m sorry,” she whispers under half-closed eyelids. 

“It’s not your fault. I just thought I’d fucked you well enough to make sure you bloody knew.” Her hips lift at that, and Ben settles between her thighs, aligning himself. “I guess I have to try harder.”

Heaven ain’t got nothing on the wonder that is Rey Niima’s cunt, nor on the way she gasps when he sinks into her. He fucks her ferociously, with both of her hands trapped under his, and when he asks her if it’s hard enough, she looks him dead in the eye and says:

“No.” 

It’s only his years of training that keep him from busting immediately, but he needs to pull out to keep his composure. He dives south to eat her out with such enthusiasm that his head spins from the lack of oxygen. She comes with her hands buried in his hair, and for once, it's Ben she’s chanting and not Kylo. 

It’s enough to make a man snap. 

“Good girl.” 

She’s still boneless as he kneels between her thighs and lifts her pelvis off the mattress. It’s not until his own climax is inevitable that he allows himself to indulge in the fact that he did knock her up. 

What a perfect little wife she is.

They lay sweaty and panting next to each other the same way they’ve done many times before, but the energy between them is entirely different this time. Rey smiles at him almost shyly, and Ben doesn’t quite know what the protocol is. How does one proceed, when two people’s reaction to finding out about a girl’s pregnancy is to bang each other's brains out?

“Um. Good job,” he mumbles. 

Rey barks a laugh. “Thank you, good sir.” 

The absurdity of it all has them both chuckling for a little while until they fall awkwardly silent once more. It’s possible it would’ve been a smarter choice to talk first and fuck later, something they probably should’ve realized weeks ago. 

Ben clears his throat. It’s time to man up.

“Does this mean that you and I…” Ben rubs his neck. “Are we, like, a thing?” 

Rey blushes hard enough to light Santa’s way on a cold Christmas night. “I guess?” 

It’s the most beautiful thing Ben’s ever heard.

“You won’t run away again?”

“No.”

“Even if I tell you I love you?”

She scrunches her nose. “Ben…”

“I’m gonna say it so often I’ll wear you down. You’ll believe me, eventually.”

“Tss…” Rey reaches for his face and slides the tips of her fingers along his jawline. “Shut up and kiss me instead.” 

“Yes, ma’am.”

37 weeks later

Ben looks up from behind the camera.

“We need one more, I looked like a bag of dicks in that one.”

“Impossible,” Rey objects.

“I assure you, it’s very much possible. And your hair has gotten tangled up.” Ben leans in and slides a finger under Rey’s collar. “There you go.” 

“Thanks. Let’s get this over with.” 

Ben sits down next to her on the couch, adjusts Ivy’s blanket to make sure they’re not showing too much of her face, and straightens his back. 

“Ready?” 

“Yep.”

“One, two, three.” 

The camera flashes, and the bundle in Rey’s arms twitches.

“I sure hope that was the last one,” Rey mumbles as Ben gets to his feet once more. 

“Yeah…” Ben throws a glance at the tiny screen. “You look perfect, and I only look like a bag half full of dicks. I think it’s good enough.” 

“Thank God.” 

Rey, just as carefully as if she would’ve been Indiana Jones, places her baby daughter in the baby nest that’s resting on the other end of the sofa. She sits down next to the child and runs her index finger down her tiny little nose. 

This family photo truly marks the end of an era and the beginning of a new one. They’ve posted one video per week since Rey tested positive, and the bigger she got, the more subscribers signed up for their channel, and they now have hundreds of thousands of followers who await the big news.

“Do you mind reading me the caption again?” she says.

“Alright.” Ben hoists his phone out of his pocket. “Here it goes: ‘We are delighted to introduce you to our beautiful baby girl. Both mother and child are in excellent health, and we look forward to getting to know each other properly. As you already know, this channel will now be canceled as Kira and I are retiring to focus on our family. We’ve had a blast and we’re grateful for all of the love and support you’ve shown us since day one. Without you, there would be no us. Thank you!”

“Wow.” Rey arches a brow. “Poe truly outdid himself with that one.”

Ben chuckles. “Yes.” 

Rey looks down at her child again. Her child. 

“Do you reckon we did the wrong thing?” she asks.

“With what?”

“Well… Continuing shooting? What if she finds it?”

“How often do you dig through the internet for porn that’s fifteen years old?” Ben shakes his head. “I don’t know if it was right or wrong, but it was a thing that made us enough money to send her to college four times over. If she happens to find out, we’ll just buy her a car, or a pony, or whatever she wants, and she’ll move right on.” 

Rey snorts. “We need to make sure we have a little buffer saved.” 

“I’ll take care of it.” 

Rey’s not surprised to see him click away on his phone with his brows pinched together, undoubtedly starting a new savings account named something along the lines of trauma bribe. 

A few minutes later, he looks up again and flings the phone onto the coffee table. “There.” 

“Are you gonna miss it? Filming?”

Ben sinks down next to Rey. 

“I won’t miss sharing you with everyone.” His face breaks into a wolfish grin. “But I don’t see a reason why we should stop filming.” 

Rey wacks his chest with the back of her hand. “You’re impossible.” 

“Yes, I am.” Ben leans in to kiss her temple. “But I love you.” 

Rey smiles. 

“I know.” 

THE END