You look out your window, at the backyard. Everyone is chatting and having a good time. Poe is back and is talking with Finn. Ben is sitting on a chair with his arms crossed. Rey is animatedly chatting with Han, and he smiles at her like he's her own dad.
What the fuck?!
How close are these people?
It makes you realize how much of a stranger you are.
"What are you looking so jealous about?"
You turn around to find Ben leaning against the door frame. How the fuck did he get up here so quickly?
You grab a blanket off of your bed and wrap it around yourself. "Ben!!! Get out!" You pick up a pillow and throw it at him.
He catches it, and tosses it on the floor.
"Seriously, why are you sulking in your underwear staring out the window?" He sits down at the chair by your desk. Like he owns the place.
"I'm not sulking. I couldn't find any clothes to wear. Get outta here."
He scoffs. "You think I wanna be here? Your mom asked me to come get you."
"Whatever." You mumble, turning to go through your drawers.
Ben opens up your closet, and before you can protest he pulls out a dress. "This looks nice enough."
You take the hanger out of his hands. "I can't wear that. It shrunk in the wash."
"Put it on." He tells you.
"Turn around." You respond.
He doesn't move but averts his gaze to look outside.
You drop the blanket and put the dress over your head. It's short enough that if you were to bend over everyone would see your ass.
When you walk back outside with Ben, the crowd has thinned out.
You're in a sour mood. You're uncomfortable, tired, and don't really want to be around anyone.
Your mother comes by and pinches your ear, pulling you close to her.
"Ouch!!" You say, wincing. It doesn't hurt, it's just more of a surprise.
"Would it hurt for you to look a bit happy?"
"I am happy for you guys." You respond, and she takes her hand away.
"Look at Rey," she gestures over to a smiling Rey chatting with Han. "Couldn't you be bit more like her?"
"I'm sorry I can be your perfect little daughter for you and your new husband. You're the one who dragged me here, away from all of my friends." You say angrily, under your breath do that the others can't hear your outburst.
She frowns. "Honey, I just want you to try a bit harder, okay? It'll get better once you make some friends. Give Ben a chance."
"Fuck off." You say, accidentally loud enough for the others to hear. Everyone stares at you, and Han frowns.
"I won't let you talk to your mother that way." Han says sternly.
You laugh. "So you're my dad now? You can fuck off too."
Your mother calls out your name as you walk away. You don't look back, and leave out the gate.
You hate this, you hate feeling this way. You hate how childish you're acting, but you just can't help it.
You walk and walk until the sun sets and the only light is from the streetlights. You stop when you have no clue where you are. You check your phone to find you don't have data in this area, for some godforsaken reason.
You spot a convenience store, or gas station and beginning walking that way. You hope you can get directions or something.
"Stop!" An unfamiliar voice says behind you.
"No thanks." You respond, unaware of the severity of the situation.
"I have a gun." They respond, and you turn around.
It's some middle-aged white dude, who has his hand on his back pocket.
"Gun my ass. This isn't America."
"Wanna find out, missy?" He spits, and you take a step back.
"Uhm, not really..." you trail off, starting to get scared.
"Give me your purse."
"I don't have a fucking purse on me."
He lets out an angry sigh. "Your phone, then."
You step back again. "No. My brothers coming," you fib, "he's a police officer too."
You notice his movements are strange, and his shaking. Erratic.
This is bad.
"Now!" He yells and his voice echoes in the empty parking lot.
You decide to run. You're not wearing heels, and aren't slow so you should be okay.
"I'll shoot you, fucking bitch!" He screams.
You look behind you to see him reaching, and you automatically get down and cover your head. You fall down, really. Your knees scrape on the rough pavement, and your wrists smart as they catch the rest of your fall. You look at your phone, to find it is no longer in your hand but nearby, the screen shattered on impact. Now you're stranded without a way to contact anyone. Although the more pressing issue is your life being threatened.
All you can hear is heavy footsteps approaching you. You curl up protectively, a feeble attempt to shield yourself.
When you hear a different pair of footsteps, and grunting, you tentatively look back.
It's Ben, and he's now beating the shit out of the guy. Kicking him in the gut over and over, and after a bit, you can't bear any more.
"Ben, stop!" You shout, and he turns to look at your teary face.
"Why should I?" He's angrier than you've ever seen him. "He threatened to kill you!"
"Did he actually have a gun?" You question.
He kicks the object over to you. "It's fake."
You can't help but laugh. It's a fucking nerf gun.
He resumes kicking him.
"Stop, Ben. My knees hurt. I wanna leave."
He sighs but does stop.
You stand up and look to find his car parked nearby. You're not sure how you didn't hear it pull up.
You leave the guy moaning and groaning on the ground, and walk back to his car.
The lights inside the car turn on, and you can see your wound better in the light. Your knees sting, and the cut is filled with tiny stones from the loose pavement. Thankfully, your knees are the only area that is hurt. You tentatively touch, and pull back your hand to find fresh blood on your fingers.
Ben sits down in his chair angrily. He tosses your broken phone onto your lap. You don't dare to look at him.
He smacks the back of your head lightly. "Are you fucking dumb? What were you thinking getting lost like that?! This area is shady as fuck!" He's yelling.
"Blaming the victim?!" You loudly say back.
"You should have just given him your phone!" He shouts.
"It cost a lot of money!" You respond.
He scoffs. "Well, it's fucked anyway."
You want to scream obscenities at him, but hold back. The adrenaline rush is dissipating, and you feel sick to your stomach. You clench your hands as you begin shaking ever so slightly.
Ben notices you begin to shake and he feels a minuscule amount of sympathy for you. Still, he's pissed you were such an idiot and he had to come to find you.
"Where is my mom and your dad?" You ask after a few minutes of silence.
"At home in bed. You don't need to worry about running into them."
You have a quiet sigh of relief. If they found out you would probably be put on house arrest.
You tiptoe inside and Ben closes the door behind the two of you. You make your way up to the bathroom to deal with your cuts, but before you can close the door Ben stops you.
"You're probably useless at first aid."
You frown, he isn't wrong.
You sit up on the counter and Ben pulls the first aid kit out of the cupboards. You sway your dangled feet back and forth while you wait.
"Move so your knees are over the sink." He commands.
You listen, and now you're sitting so that your legs are straight on the counter. It's a large counter, spanning from the wall by the door all the way to the toilet. With just a single sink, and cupboards covered by a mirror. Ben turns on the tap and warm water runs over your legs. He then wipes it with a sanitizing towelette, and you flinch.
"That hurts!" You say loudly.
He hushes you. "If you want an infection, fine by me." He scowls.
You roll your eyes.
After wiping it, he frowns and pulls out a pair of tweezers.
He meticulously pulls out every tiny bit of gravel. You lean Your head against the wall and take a moment to look at him.
His face is focused, biting his lip and eyebrows furrowed. One hand is on your calf and the other one with the tweezers. His dark hair is a bit messy, hanging over his forehead. His face is flushed, you assume from the beating he gave that creep. There's a sheen of sweat on his muscular arms, and it makes his pale skin glisten in the light.
He places the tweezers down and pulls out a tube of something. He squeezes it onto his finger and spreads a hefty amount over both cuts. He places two bandages on top to cover it.
"Thanks, I guess." You mumble, not wanting to say it, but you know you should.
"Whatever. Not like I had a choice with how fucking dumb you are." Back to his usual attitude.
You scoff at his harshness. You swing your legs over, but before you can get off the counter he takes your wrists in his hands.
He inspects them, specifically the area which you landed on.
"Do these hurt?" He asks.
"No. Just hurt at the time."
He says nothing, but turns around and tosses any garbage in the bin and puts the cloth in the laundry basket. You get off the counter and begin your nighttime routine.
Sleep doesn't come easily. Your minding is racing, replaying the events from earlier. So, you do what anyone does when they can't sleep. Masturbate.
-
Not me having this totally inspired by that scene from Clueless... lol
Protective Ben Solo>>>>>