Chapter Text
Ben wanted to get married as soon as he was released from incarceration - a former fugitive from justice. He thought Rey would be of the same mind and was taken aback when his fiancée interrupted his empire building plans with, “Nah, I’d like to wait.”
Whilst he tried to sort out his swirling thoughts, trying not to go all Ben on her, she pulled out a battered old almanac; a seasonal guide which she used to plot her plantings in harmony with the cycles of the moon. For once in his life he kept his big, fat mouth shut.
Turning to the month of June, she pointed out to him that the full moon in that month was known as a Dyad moon, that word meaning ‘pair’. She was looking intently at him now, capturing him in the mesmerising gaze which ensured his full attention.
She took her hand and pressed it against his chest - specifically, where beat his heart. She then took back her hand and pressed it against where her own heart lay.
The month of June, she continued, was named after the Roman goddess Juno, the goddess of marriage, and therefore was a particularly auspicious month for marriage; hence the naming of the moon that month as Dyad - ‘a pair’.
She wished to be married on the 5th of June the next year, under a Dyad moon.
What could he say? He said, “Yes.”
In all their long life together, she never again gave any indication of even the possibility of a romantic nature, which somehow made the yearly celebration of that day even more precious and important.
Before the twins made their entrance into the world, and while there was showing just a slight baby bump through Rey’s clothes, his mother took it upon herself to introduce them into ‘polite society’, returning from Coruscant regularly to host dinners, lunches and the like with important people.
Ben raged a little over this reapportioning of her time, as she had never done so at any other time of his life - during his times of need for instance.
Rey put a soothing hand in his, stroking him and telling him, “Ben, it’s ok, I’ve got this.” He outwardly settled, but that splinter of bitterness was lodged deep in his heart and would not move. Like now, sat in a fancy restaurant, his mother holding court and presiding over a table of about a dozen other people, Rey seated opposite him according to his mother’s seating plan.
He could feel the rage bubbling up in his chest, threatening to spew up out of his mouth, when he happened to look across at his sweetheart.
He’d made it through to dessert, which he’d declined settling for black coffee.
Rey, however, had enthusiastically ordered a tall sundae glass of something sweet. A concoction of meringue, out of season imported strawberries, whipped cream, and ice cream. It was a favourite of the English, she informed the assembled guests, who nodded politely and indifferently - they were there for Leia Organa, not trailer trash.
Now she had his attention, he saw that she was eating it in a most provocative way; her pink tongue darting out to make play with licking the last smidgen of cream slowly off the tall spoon’s bowl, tip and the length of the long handle. Concealed under the table, his dick tapped into the images Ben’s brain was streaming and roared into life.
“Our female teases us,” it observed silkily. “She sure does,” breathed Ben. The rest of the table was oblivious, all vying for the attention of Leia.
Opposite, Rey had balanced a hulled strawberry in the bowl of her spoon and was slowly sucking it into her mouth. Grinning at him after closing her mouth over the succulent red fruit, she began to slowly chew, leaning back in her chair fully aware of the effect on her fiancé.
Ben’s dick growled. “Our female is naughty. She seeks punishment. She deserves to be spanked.”
“She sure does,” breathed Ben, attention riveted on the minx opposite, who had now dipped a finger into the mess and hooked a blob of cream which she was now slowly sucking off her fingertip.
“We will go and give her myself to suck upon. Come.”
Ben answered his dick’s imperative by rapidly and unexpectedly standing, his chair scraping noisily backwards. For a moment he was the focus of attention, managing to stammer out an apology, the white linen napkin he was holding thankfully held before him.
“Excuse me,” he got out. Polite nods were sent his way and conversation resumed. Ben fled to the bathroom, his dick raging in his pants at his cowardice.
“Our female needs our attention. She desires to be filled by us, to be pounded.” His dick’s tone was wrathful.
Ben had made it to the men’s room, thankfully empty. “I couldn’t agree more, but, you know, boundaries.”
His dick’s energy started to flag, “Oh for happier times, more primitive times. We would have stripped our female naked and then had her on the table top. Claimed her in the sight of all.”
“You know, you just better shut up,” retorted Ben, “when I think of the trouble you’ve got us into with your primal urges ... well, you’ve got a lot to answer for is all.”
How the subsequent conversation would have gone was a subject for speculation, as at that moment the bathroom door began to open and for one glorious moment both Ben and his dick imagined it was Rey coming through. It was Han.
Ben’s hands were drooped at his sides, so his boner was immediately visible. Han side-eyed it as he unzipped himself, standing before the urinal.
“You know,” Han confided, beginning to pee, “your mother and I were the same when we were first together. Boy, was she hot to handle, always wanting to jump my bones every minute of every day. Good job I kept myself in shape.”
He turned his head and grinned at his appalled son.
“Dad,” protested his son, weakly, “I think this is called over-sharing.”
“Nonsense,” said Han bracingly, “you’ve got yourself a regular little firecracker there. Ought to be at home doing what comes naturally, not stuck at these socials your mother organises to meet the right people.” He managed a fair approximation of Leia’s tone.
His dad shook himself off, zipped himself up and walked to the wash basin, beginning to wash and dry his hands. Ben decided he may as well pee too, now he was here, and walked over to the spot just vacated.
“Yes, sir,” continued Ben’s dad, “don’t think I haven’t noticed you’re built to make women happy,” he had crossed back to Ben, giving his son a manly slap between the shoulder blades, “just like your old man.” Han then walked cockily out of the men’s room.
Ben stared dolefully down at his shoes. Which were now wet. Not with water.
Maybe it was a good thing, he ruminated as he washed his own hands, dabbing at the Italian leather of his shoes with a paper towel, to be estranged from his parents. After all, what was the sum total of his education from them? Secretly his mom was a fox in the bedroom, and his dad was a stud who was hung like a porn star.
He trudged back to the lunch table. His damp shoes had started to squeak.
His mom was on a roll now. Unstoppable. The next big thing was an engagement party, to be held at the Chandrila Country Club, a big, expensive, prestigious venue. Leia took complete control, they just needed to show up.
As a direct consequence of this shindig, Ben’s deficiencies as a boyfriend, lover, fiancé, what you will, were once more placed front and centre.
He was perched upon a plush seat in a high-end boutique recommended by his mother, helping Rey choose a dress for their engagement party. He was struggling.
Not wanting to get himself into trouble, having witnessed over the years his father’s deficiencies likewise in this matter, and the subsequent fallout, he went for diplomacy, i.e. ‘you look good in anything’; ‘if you like it, buy it’.
Diplomacy wasn’t working. Rey’s frowns were getting deeper, her stomps back to the changing room heavier, the sales lady’s contempt unmistakable.
His dick took charge.
Rey walked out, wearing a green halter neck dress, an extremely pissed off look on her face. The style of the knee length dress was bodycon and did indeed show every contour of his beloved’s hot body. Her hormone enhanced boobs, every feminine curve, even the sight of the baby bump was a turn on.
“Just supply the words,” his dick growled, “don’t mess it up.”
Ben rose from the overstuffed chair before Rey could utter a word, crossing the gap between them with a long, loping stride, like a predator. He saw her eyes widen. Good, good. Good girl.
He crowded her, using his height to dominate, standing over her. She stood her ground, looking up at him with eyes wide, a pink fingernail placed provocatively between her lips, held gently between her teeth.
“What are you trying to do to me, little girl?” his voice was a low growl. “Trying to make me crazy, trying to make me lose control? You want I should put you over my knee and spank you, is that what you want?”
He saw her eyelashes flutter. Perhaps she did. Wow, that was a shot at a venture!
Emboldened, he put a hand on the small of her back, his other hand against her pert derrière, pulling her in closer, much closer. His dick said hello, pressing into her stomach. She slid her hands up to his shoulders.
“Of course, I’d prefer to strip you naked and parade you on a leash, but if you ask me, this is the dress for you.”
He had her whole attention, his voice staying low, just on this side of threat. There was a pink blush now showing under her tanned skin and a shudder ran through her.
She turned her head to the sales lady, standing thunderstruck at their side, rooted to the spot.
“Do you have the shoes to go with this?” Rey’s voice was composed but a little unsteady.
“Sure, sure.” The clerk scuttled off. Rey’s hands were now in his hair, their lips met. They made out until the flustered saleswoman returned; Ben tipped her $50 for her trouble as they left the store.
Rey had him in the cabin of the Falcon in the Mall’s car park, pinning him in the passenger seat, her pelvis and pubococcygeus muscle undulating over his 10-inch pellucid pestle, who was happy to assist in the strengthening of her pelvic floor.
Yeah, he thought sleepily as Rey negotiated traffic, he may have been named after Ben Kenobi, but his DNA was all Han Solo.
The invites to the engagement party were a hot ticket, the venue packed.
Redeemed Ben Solo was the centre of attention, his sweetheart not so much.
Word too seemed to be out that his trust fund had been signed over to him, and although Bazine kept her distance, former unmarried or divorced dalliances of his didn’t.
In the presence of the cream of Chandrila political and social society - and Rey’s less exalted friends - he was hit on time and time again.
Ben Kenobi had graced them with his presence too. Ben had met him privately previously, Rey obviously dotingly fond of her former foster father. A serene man, he nevertheless had an air of menace about him, his brown eyes both kindly and piercing.
That there was some history between Kenobi and his mother in particular was obvious. Leia was both deferential and affectionate toward him, not the least trace of the imperiousness which was her usual demeanour. That niggling feeling was back that there was past history Ben knew nothing about, important history which was kept from him. He’d set Rey on the case, he vowed.
Meanwhile, he was beating off one of his exes, Tallie, newly divorced and hot to have him. He wished Rey would come back, she’d wandered off to spend time with her bounty hunter friends.
Tallie was touching him now as he backed away, pleadingly saying, “Tallie, this is not appropriate, I’m engaged to be married.”
She looked at him pityingly. “Oh, come on, you are not seriously even thinking of marrying that creature. Ben, she’s trailer trash, a bounty hunter. Come on, now, don’t fight me.”
“You want my boyfriend?” Rey’s voice sounded at his elbow.
Tallie jumped back, startled. There was an ugly note to Rey’s voice.
Rey spoke again, “Cat got your tongue? I say again, you want my boyfriend?”
Tallie was recovering her rich bitch persona, “And if I do?”
“Well, if you do, you can have him.”
“Rey,” breathed out Ben, his heart being squeezed in his chest.
Around them, the room was falling silent.
“Yeah, you can have him ... but you’ll have to fight me first.”
Rey was moving forward now, aggressively, purposefully, getting in Tallie’s face, well as near as she could, Tallie’s surgically enhanced breasts getting in the way. Waves of raw, untamed power seemed to be rolling off of his sweetheart.
“Come on, bitch, give it your best shot. Come on.”
Rey made a movement with her hand, the muscles in her toned arms flexing, inviting Tallie to make her move, her eyes never leaving the pneumatic blonde’s. Ben hated himself, sorta, but he was becoming sexually aroused.
The stalemate broke, Tallie turned and pushed through the assembled throng, mortified and not far from tears.
“I want all you bitches to know,” Rey’s clipped British accent sounded throughout the venue, “you come for my man, you go through my fist first.” She rolled her shoulders meaningfully.
Her gaze searched out dissenters. Finally satisfied there were no takers, she delivered the valediction, “You step out of line,” she growled at them, “do I have to say it?”
Incredibly, many there shook their heads and there were even a few audible ‘No ma’am’s’.
Her eyes travelled slowly over the assembled dignitaries, “Good, good, very good. Enjoy the party.”
She turned her back on them dismissively, eyes alighting on Ben’s raging boner, his dick pointing North by North-East in his tuxedo pants. Her toothy grin lit up her face, “Something there I can help you with, Mister?”
For once, Ben didn’t need his dick’s urging, he surged forward, sweeping her up in his arms and heading at speed for the bathrooms. A great cheer went up from behind them, followed by a tsunami of chatter.
Locking them both in the VIP ladies powder room, he showed his sweetheart a few moves of his own.