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Guess I'll just stumble on home to my cats...


Unless you wanna come along?



It hurts a little, but it’s not Ben’s fault.

Or maybe it is, but there isn’t much he could have done about it. He has licked her until she was pink and raw, stretched her open with his fingers, and even waited for long moments before sliding inside, rocking against her folds while holding himself on top of her with trembling arms. Rey’s the one who whispered, “Let me get you started,” right in his ear, and wrapped her legs around his hips to force him to come deep.

Ben did what he could. He’s just—big.

“It’s okay,” she says, a little out of breath, because she can tell that he’s about to ask. He looks worried and feverish and a little wild, so she presses a kiss into the steep line of his jaw, then another, and repeats, “I’m okay.”

“Good,” he says, though it sounds airy, like he’s mostly exhaling. “Good.” And then he attempts a thrust—just pulls back less than an inch, pushing in to the hilt again, and—maybe she is not okay after all.

“Wait—I…” Rey arches, trying to make more room inside, afraid she’ll burst at the seams. She has never been so full—never. No one has been, she’s certain.

“Do you want me to pull out?” His voice is strained, and he looks—like it costs him, to offer, and a lot.

Impossibly, it makes Rey smile. “Is that an option?”


“Here.” She pushes at his shoulder, sweat-slick and rock-hard. “Let me be on top.”

It doesn’t solve the problem of how big he is, but at least she can control the depth and angle of him. It takes Ben a second to adjust—first he pushes her legs apart until he can see the shiny folds of her cunt open around him, his fingers tightening against her thighs as he groans a noise that sounds as if it could have come from an animal; but then, when she leans forward to kiss him sweetly on mouth, he seems to quiet down, his muscles losing some that vibrating tension.

“Is this okay? This position?”

He nods without opening his eyes. His hands slide up to her waist, her ribcage, and then move down to grip the flesh of her ass. They’re bruising. “Yes,” he husks out. “I… whatever you want. I might…” His jaw is clenched. “It might not last very long. This time. Or the next. But maybe the following, if you still want to…”

“It’s okay.” He is so deep, she can almost taste him. And maybe—maybe she’s getting used to him. Just about. “You can come, if you need to.”

Ben scrunches his eyes shut. The muscles in his stomach ripple, tight and restless. “Tell me what you want,” he says. “And I’ll—oh, Fuck.

She thinks that maybe he wasn’t ready, for her to start moving. But she barely is—just rolling her hips to test the waters, see what hurts (very little) and what’s good (a whole lot). It’s just that there’s a lot of pressure, a lot of him rubbing on every spot of her, and it’s just delicious. He’s immense, stretching her to what has to be her limit—though perhaps it’s even a bit past that. Rey balances herself on his chest, feeling his heart beating a drum against her palm, and begins to push up and down a little more, feeling the pleasure pulse at the base of her tummy.

“Like this?”

He doesn’t answer. Or—actually he does, but in murmurs, incoherent things, things like please, be still, don’t move, you’re so little, I’m going to—oh, oh, oh. Fuck. It gets worse when Rey clenches around him, on purpose, just to see where she can go, and finds that there is no extra room inside her. Nothing at all. But it has the effect of making Ben grunt and then lose it. His control snaps in two as he rolls them around and begins to thrust for real this time, long movements that drag against all of her nerve endings and make her clit swell in rhythmic waves.

“You,” he breathes against her mouth, and the way his stomach rubs against hers, damp with sweat, his scent, the burning feeling that crawls in her abdomen—it’s a lot. It’s so much. It’s endless. “You are everything I’ve ever—”

Rey comes like an avalanche, a wash of blinding pleasure as her body clenches rhythmically around his cock, whimpering her orgasm into the skin of his collarbone. Ben must come, too—his fingers tighten around her hips and he is babbling and groaning and grinding desperately against her, as if to fuse his body with her own.

The space between them is sticky and wet with seed and sweat, and something that could be her tears. Rey is never, ever going to clean up.

The last thing she can hear before she falls asleep atop Ben, two of his fingers pressed inside her, is the beat of his heart still pounding in his chest.



“Are you hungry?”

Rey yawns into the curve of his throat. “No. Not really.”

“Tell me if you are.” He nuzzles the crown of her hair with his nose. He is, quite frankly, the most comfortable mattress in the universe. And this is the most comfortable Rey has ever been, she is pretty sure.

“Okay.” He is just—perfectly hard. And perfectly soft. And perfectly large. So perfect. “What are you thinking?”


“Yes, now.” She kisses a spot at the base of his neck. “What are you thinking?”

“Nothing. Just… this.” For some reason his fingers are still inside her, giving her a pleasant feeling of fullness. Rey hopes he’ll never take them out. “You?”

“Nothing.” She smiles into his skin. “Actually, something. Do you think Hux and Poe are doing the same thing, right now?”

Jesus.” She can just imagine the way Ben’s face is scrunching up. “Thank you for the mental image, Rey.”

She giggles and falls asleep again with a smile on her face.



It’s not dark anymore when she wakes up, and Ben’s behind her under the covers, the hand curling around her breast a pleasant weight that has even her bone marrow feeling warm and happy.

“Good morning,” she tells him with a smile that he likely cannot see.

“‘morning.” His breath tickles the hair on her neck. He hesitates for a moment, then his fingers tighten on her. “You smell unbelievably good.”

It’s because I smell like you, she thinks, though she dozes off before the words make it out of her mouth.

When she wakes again Ben is halfway inside her, and Rey has never been more turned on in her life. The arousal wells up with every inch that slides in, an obscene tidal wave that makes her skin heat and tingle, and it takes her several seconds to realize the noise that awakened is her own moan.

“Okay?” Ben asks, pressing a gentle kiss over her shoulder. When Rey rasps out, “Yes,” he shifts her a bit, until she is laying on her belly and his chest is flush to her back. “Still okay?” His breath is hot against her ear.

Rey buries her face in the pillow, dazed by the pleasure. “It feels—” He pushes just half an inch deeper, hitting something soft and tender inside her. The feeling of it, it’s just—ruinous. Nuclear. “It feels as if you might be too big for me.”

Ben groans. “But I’m not.”

Rey nods, breathless. “But you’re not.”

He kisses the pulse at the base of her throat, and then lets his teeth graze against the vein there, as if to find the source, the essence of her. “I’m gonna fuck you, then.”

They have done this enough times by now that he’s almost able to take it slowly. Almost. Rey can tell, that he’s trying to take his time, to savor it a bit. He is going in and out, unhurried and steady, pacing himself, and she has to force herself to resist the temptation to push back against his cock. She closes her eyes, stays as still as he so clearly wants her to be, and lets the pleasure drift through her, breathing in his spectacular scent and thinking of dark green pine trees and fallen snow.

When he kneels back to run his hands down her spine and her buttocks, pressing his thumbs in the grooves of her shoulder blades, she smiles into her forearms. “Did you use to think of us? Doing this?”

Ben’s breath is loud, but even. “All the time.”

“What did you—yes—what did you imagine?”

“I don’t know.” His fingers slide lower, to the dimples at the base of her spine and lower still. “I thought you’d be soft. And warm. And wet.” His thumb traces the cleft of her ass, resting on her hole. “And beautiful.” There is a slight pressure, and then the tip is inside her, uncomfortable and foreign and—ah, yes. Delightfully tight. Rey’s breath catches, and so does Ben’s. “But not… not like this.”

His thumb slips out, and he leans over her once more, resuming his thrusts at a faster, harder tempo.

“Can you come?” he asks in the tender skin of her neck. “Like this? Can you come?”

Rey doesn’t think she can. Though she also didn’t think she could come earlier today, or last night, or yesterday. Up until two days ago, she didn’t think she could come in the presence of someone else, period. She didn’t think many things, and Ben has been proving her wrong one by one, so: “I don’t know.”

“Maybe you can.” He is slurring his words a little. “Because you’re getting tighter. And wetter. So maybe…”

It takes her maybe ten thrusts, before the pleasure tears through her. Ben fucks her through her messy, mind-addling orgasm and then lets go and grabs his own, grunting words of sex and love into her ear. All throughout Rey holds his forearm, pressing sweet, soft kisses to the back of his hand.



“I would try a triathlon.”

She has tucked her cheek against his enormous chest; his fingers trace lazy patterns over her spine, the small of back, her ass. She is sure that he has counted her ribs twice already, answering with a teasing smile when she confessed that she is ticklish—as if storing up the knowledge for future reference.

“Would you.” He turns his face, just enough to press his nose into her hair and inhale. Deeply.

“If.” She nuzzles her cheek into his skin. “If there was no swimming involved.”

“So, what you’re saying is that you would try a duathlon?”

“Oh.” She lifts her head and props her chin on her palm. “Is that a thing?”

“Well, it is a much inferior, subpar discipline, practiced only by those who cannot master—” Rey pinches the skin at the juncture between his shoulder and his arm. “Ouch.” He’s smiling. “What’s the problem with swimming, anyway?”

“I hate it. I’m not good at it. I mean—I can swim. Sort of.” Rey winces. “But I’m slow. And the pool is always so cold. And it’s out of the way.”

He lifts his hand and runs it through the length of her hair. Rey is reminded of the care he took while undoing her buns last night. “You’d probably get better with training. For sure.”

“Eh. I wouldn’t know where to begin.”

He looks up at her, pressing his lips together. “When we’re back. If you… I could—”

The knock at the door startles them. They exchange a long, silent glance. Then, when Ben gets out of bed and pulls on his plaid pajama pants to answer the door, Rey ducks under the covers and makes herself as small as possible.

“Hey.” From under the comforter, she can hear Poe’s voice. “You sick or something?”


“Oh. You look like you just got out of bed.”

“I did. Just resting.”

“Ah. Great. So, you’re good with driving back, right?”

“Of course.”

“Great. So, the streets look fine, at least as long as we drive slowly. We’re planning to leave at five.”

A pause. “Ah. Okay.”

“Can you text everyone on your team?”

“Will do.”

“Okay. Thanks dude. And oh, have you seen Rey?”

Ben doesn’t miss a beat. “Is she not in her room?”

He sure is good at sidestepping questions.

“Nope. Maybe she went for a walk or something. I’ll just text her. See you later.”

The sound of a door closing, and a few seconds later the mattress next to Rey dips. She emerges from the tangle of sheets and comforter, sitting upright while Ben eyes her silently.

“So.” She forces a small smile. “I guess we’re going home today, after all.”

Ben nods. He looks… yeah.

“Okay.” Rey fidgets with a corner of the sheet. “Guess this means I have to go pack.”

Ben nods, again.

“And you have to pack, too.” Rey pushes the covers back. “I’ll get out of your hair, so you can—”

The way he kisses her, it makes her chest flutter and her eyes prickly.



Hux does half-heartedly check Grinder every ten minutes or so on the trip home, but only when he’s not reading the news, or playing Angry Birds, or typing something on his Notes app. Just one word here, two words there. Rey wonders if the poem is about Poe’s teeth, or maybe his forearms. In the seat in front of Rey’s, Bazine conks out half an hour into the car ride, snoring lightly and muttering something about koalas and chlamydia in her sleep.

Ben just drives, quiet and pensive. Rey leans back against the headrest and looks at the way his hands dwarf the steering wheel, feeling content and warm. When her song comes up on the radio, he turns up the volume a little; she smiles and closes her eyes.



It’s dark when they pull into the company parking lot. Rey’s phone is long dead, but the clock on the dashboard says 10:37 PM, and she has good reason to suspect that, unlike her, Ben actually set it back when daylight saving time ended.

They are the last group to arrive—no doubt because Rey asked to stop for a restroom break. Bazine had complained, Hux had muttered something about pharmaceutical treatments for urinary incontinence, and Ben had just pulled into the gas station’s parking spot, going inside the store with Rey and buying a cup of black coffee for himself and a bag of Haribo gummy bears for her. Rey tucks what remains of it into the pocket of her coat and steps into the freezing cold.

Rey’s car, old and more than a little beat-up, is where she left it five days ago. The sky is clear now, but there are a few centimeters of white ice stuck to the roof and the windows—a clear sign that it must have snowed in the city, too. Rey puts her bags inside the trunk, wipes the car as best as she can, and then leans against the driver’s door to wait for Finn to finish chatting with Rose. A few feet from her Ben seems busy—first discussing something work-related with a handful of people on his team, then talking with Poe about something that makes them both smile, and after that helping Tallie figure out why her car won’t start. Rey… she mostly attempts to avoid staring at him. Which means limiting herself to furtive glances, and trying not to wonder too much whether she should go say goodbye to him.

She’d like that. And she thinks he’d like that, too. But who knows what his stance is on others knowing, or even just suspecting what happened in the past two days, and it’s possible that he’s had enough of her, and maybe he never meant this thing between them to last past the retreat—

“Rey!” Finn jogs up to her, and he has the gall to lower his voice, as if by now one single person exists who hasn’t figured out what he and Rose are up to: “So, I’m actually gonna go to, um, my friend's place tonight. Which means that I don’t need a ride.”

Rey smiles, and in a stage whisper replies, “Okay.”

“I’ll see you at home, ‘kay?”

“Sure. Have fun.”

Finn gives her the thumbs up and walks away. Rey looks at him and shakes her head, making a mental note to remember this ridiculousness for when she is asked to give a toast at their wedding.

“Is your car alright?” Rey whirls around and finds Ben standing right behind her. His breath is a white puff in the cold air. “Or do you need a ride?”

“Oh, no, I was…” She shakes her head with a smile. “I was waiting for Finn, to drive him home. Though it turns out that he’s going to Rose’s and he doesn’t need a ride.” She shrugs. And then grins. “Wanna rough him up a little?”

Ben stares at her flatly, and Rey giggles.

“Okay, then.” He presses his lips together, looking around the parking lot. Most people have left already, and the few remaining are getting inside their cars. Tallie drives past, waving at them with a tired smile. Rey follows her with her gaze, wondering why on earth her license plate says ‘RAZZLED’. “I’m just gonna…” Ben points vaguely in the direction of his car and spins on his heels, taking a few steps away from her.

“Hey. Ben, wait.” He stops. Faces away for a moment, and then turns back to look at her. So she gives him her most reassuring smile, and continues: “I meant what I said at the lodge. That I don’t bite.”

Ben nods. And is silent for what feels like a long time, studying the toes of his boots. And then, then he looks up and finally meets her eyes. “I meant it, too.”

Rey cocks her head, curious. “You meant, what?”

“What I said. At the lodge.”

He said so many things at the cabin. So many. And yet, to ask him which one he is referring to would be nothing but dishonest of her. “Did you?”

He nods, his jaw working in that tense, familiar way.

Rey turns to her right, taking in the black and yellow neon sign across the street. The ‘W’ and the second ‘F’ are flickering a bit. It’s late, there is almost no traffic, and Rey has to count the days in her head to realize that it’s a Friday night. They have the weekend ahead of them, before they have to go back to work. But even Monday—it doesn’t sound quite as bad as it used to, does it?

Ben Solo, she thinks. I could fall for you so easily, I’m already halfway there.

“Hey,” Rey says, stepping into him. Leaning her forehead against his chest. Maybe it’s a bad idea, maybe someone could see them, maybe it will snow again soon. Maybe, maybe, maybe. Maybe, he feels like home. “I’m in the mood for waffles. Want to buy me some?”