I'm a fangirl and fic writer. Star Wars is my main jam & Reylo is my OTP. Waaaaay too much Adam Driver trash here. All ships welcome, but no hate allowed. Custom header artwork by @macamars
Warning: language. I have no filter and I don’t believe in censorship.
First of all, I want to start by saying that I am quite a bit older than the majority of the people on Tumblr, and I don’t really give a shiny shit if anyone has an issue with that, or wants to make fun of me for it (and yes, they have). I don’t think age or gender or race should have anything to do what we love and respect, and fandoms and ships are a part of that. However, due to my age, and the fact that Star Wars was a massive part of my life growing up (really dating myself here, but I was alive and old enough to enjoy the original trilogy when it was in the theaters) I am more passionate about this fandom than pretty much ANYthing else. Period, hard return.
Moving forward to the new movies. I loved TFA. I felt it was absolutely worth the wait and the hype. I loved the writing, I loved all the new characters, and I was excited about where they were taking the franchise that I loved so much. The one thing I did NOT get from TFA was “that feeling” – that deep down, OMG feeling when you see a movie that you know has just changed your life as you know it. For instance, I got that feeling when I saw ANH for the first time. Even though I was a little kid, I knew it was a game changer, and from then on, Star Wars was life for me.
In the months between TFA and TLJ, I formed opinions that, while I did not know it at the time, would have labeled me as an anti-Reylo. To me, Kylo Ren was the embodiment of evil. He was obviously being set up to be the next Sith/Dark Lord/Darth V2.0 whatever you want to call it. And I wanted him to be. Kylo being the ultimate big bad made it easier for me to fit him into the puzzle in my head. To me, there was absolutely no way that Kylo Ren, after killing his father in cold blood as well as a key player in the murder of BILLIONS of people could EVER be anything other than pure, black, irredeemable evil.
As pure, black, irredeemable evil, Kylo’s relationships with other characters, in my opinion, were for no reasons other than to secure his place on the dark side. Especially, and most definitely Rey. He was taking advantage of Rey’s newness in all of this to exploit her and use her. The idea that there was some sort of love story between those two was utterly ridiculous to me, and while I never outwardly mocked or criticized anyone (because honestly, that’s just fucking rude), I remained solid in my anti-Reylo opinions.
The first time I saw TLJ, I was so caught up in the breadth and complexity of the story, not to mention bawling into hand fulls of Kleenex every time Carrie Fisher came on the screen, I was unable to fully digest everything. The one thing I DID know, however, was that Kylo Ren was still the big bad, and HA!! – just like I had been saying for over a year, he had used and manipulated Rey in order to advance himself and oh, now look, he’s the fucking Supreme Leader of the First Order. The end. I’ll see myself out.
Oh, and one more thing I know is that if Adam Driver moves up the hotness scale from TLJ to IX as far as he did from TFA to TLJ, we shall be instantly and utterly vaporized by the white hot heat that radiates from his perfect body. But I digress…
I could not stop thinking about TLJ. There was something bothering me, and I felt like I had missed a lot (which I had) so as soon as I had some time off, I went and saw it again. This time, I paid much more attention to the plot and storyline, and the little details that everyone had been talking about that may have been missed. And then, at the end of the movie, when Kylo goes down on one knee and the Force bond opens and he looks up at Rey with those big just-kill-me-now puppy dog eyes, a little switch flipped in the back of my brain. That look… Those were not the eyes of a big bad, balls-to-the-wall evil, manipulative murderer. Those were the eyes of a boy denied love and betrayed so many times over that he had lost count. Those were the eyes of a damaged, broken man who had been forced to do the things he had done because of the choices, intervention, and manipulation of the people he had trusted time and time and time again. Eyes full of loneliness, hurt, and regret.
That realization shattered me. Because not only had I been wrong about Kylo Ren, I had also learned that characters that I had loved since I was a child were responsible for a great deal of his torment. I literally felt Ben Solo’s pain and betrayal in my own way. And after I began to process the shock of my wrongness about Kylo/Ben, Rey began to creep into my thoughts. And at that point, everything I thought I knew about Kylo and Rey began to turn upside down.
I started to really read and digest the more serious Reylo posts that delved into the theories regarding the relationship between Kylo and Rey, as well as the possibility of redemption for Ben Solo. And while I could still see through a lot of it as conjecture and reaching, there were a few facts that could not be ignored. For me, those facts were:
1. Rey is pure in her emotions for Kylo/Ben. She believes in him and the goodness in him to the point where she literally delivers herself to him and places her life in Kylo’s hands on Snoke’s ship. I cannot imagine putting that level of life-or-death trust in someone unless I loved that person in some way.
2. Kylo, on some level, cares for Rey. While it is very difficult for me to define exactly what it is he feels for her because he is SO FUCKING DAMAGED (this is a fact that I personally feel cannot be denied), there is irrefutably something there.
3. Kylo + Rey = balance. This is proven multiple times in the movie, with the ultimate being the throne room scene. When neither of them are thinking about it, and just allowing themselves to be what they are in their togetherness, they are seamless - two parts of the same whole.
Now, here are some more minute, smaller details that I picked up that were personal deal-sealers for me:
1. That gorgeous fucking thing that Kylo does with his mouth – where he looks like he’s chewing on the emotions to keep them from coming out. He only does it when he’s utterly and completely conflicted regarding someone he deeply cares about. He does it in his tie silencer when he is confronted with killing his mother, he does it when the first Force bond opens with Rey, and he does it twice during the throne room scene when he is asking Rey to join him.
2. There were a couple of things in the island hut Force bond scene. First of all, their level of casual comfort with each other during this scene was major for me. Second of all - she WAY overshares with him here. Although the movie doesn’t show us the entire conversation between Rey and Kylo, she did tell him about the cave, and what it showed her about her parents. We can assume she told him more, but either way, she is giving away major details to him about the island, about her relationship with the dark side of the Force, and most importantly, about herself.
3. A lot of people have focused on Kylo’s speech to Rey in the throne room. It is pretty obvious it is super similar to the famous speech from ESB when Vader tells Luke “Join me, and together, we can rule the galaxy as father and son!” However, just before this, Vader also says “If only you knew the power of the Dark Side!”
The actual quote from Kylo’s speech is “I want you to join me. We can rule together and bring a new order to the galaxy”. The big difference to me is that he doesn’t ask her to come to the dark side. Never once does he mention the dark side, or a side at all. In fact, he asks Rey to let go of sides in a way (a parallel to DJ’s “don’t join” philosophy) when he tells her to let it all die - “Snoke, Skywalker, the Sith, the Jedi, the Rebels; let it all die”. He simply asks her to come with HIM. He is looking for a way to complete himself, and end all the conflict that has surrounded him his entire life. Here is that broken boy again, desperately looking for someone to love him enough to take his hand and simply be with him for who he is – something he has never had. And Rey is the person he asks.
I went and saw TLJ again a few days ago, and it was like I was seeing it for the first time. After having all of these realizations and changes of heart, I saw the story through new eyes. And then it happened – I even remember the exact moment, during the throne room fight when Kylo has just killed the last of the guards with the legacy saber and he looks at Rey and you know everyone in the theater is thinking “now kiss!” – I got that feeling. That OMG feeling when you see a movie that you know has just changed your life as you know it. I suddenly realized that I was not fully grasping the true impact of the story until I watched it not as a story about Rey or Kylo Ren or Luke Skywalker or the Resistance or the fight between light and dark, but as the story of Kylo and Rey. Together.
Because they are the beautiful, tragic heart of it.
I wrote this post way back in January of 2017. Now, two years and nearly 5,000 notes later, here we are again, at yet another crossroads in our Reylo journey.
I wanted to reblog this post because 1) I feel it is still extremely relevant today (although my knowledge of Ben Solo and Reylo has increased a hundred-fold from when I wrote this), 2) given the current post-ROS environment on social media regarding Reylos, I wanted to remind everyone that light conquers dark, and love conquers all. It certainly did with me.
Thanks for being patient, as always. This was a tough chapter. Lots of brutal truths and unhappy memories... but this part of the story had to be told. Now we can move towards healing, and happiness. And thanks to @0anhonestpuck0 and @bensrey-reysben for beta reading for me.
Chapter excerpt under the line:
He needed to get home.
He shouldn’t be here.
Everything was ruined.
A nudge on his shoulder made him jump, startled from his self-loathing. He glanced up as far as his heavy eyelids would allow. He squinted his eyes as he tried to focus on the object in front of his face. It was a hand. Holding a bottle of water. He stared at it as if it were trying to bestow the secrets of the universe upon him. He felt another hand grab his and place the open bottle in it.
“Drink it.” a voice said, but he couldn’t make his hand cooperate. He thought of Rey at that moment, although he wasn’t sure why, and again at how life was so fucking cruel. He dropped his head with a sob. He heard a noise beside him, a sad sound. A sigh.
“Ben,” a voice in front of him said. His mother called him that. She refused to ever call him anything different. ‘Ben Kenobi was a great man.’ Leia had told him when he was little, when he had asked about his namesake. ‘He was one of the last true, honest leaders of this city.’ Little Ben Solo had crawled into his mother’s lap at her huge hardwood desk in her vast study at his childhood home. ‘He loved Atlanta. He brought hope to the people, Ben. He brought hope to me. And now I pass that love and hope on to you.’ she had kissed him on top of his unruly jet black hair before sending him off to play with a pat on the backside.
Anyone up for beta reading Chapter 12 of Crossfade? I’m struggling creatively and need some serious help, and possibly a blowtorch so I can just light the entire thing on fire. 🔥 Ugh....
Feeling like I’m touching the ceiling
When I’m with you I can’t breathe
Boy, you do something to me
Ooh, now I’ll never get over you until I find something new
That get me high like you do
An Officer Peterson fic. 2,987 words. NSFW below the line.
You’d never been so scared in your entire life. What was happening? The streets of your once-sleepy hometown were chaos now, and the screaming -- god, why wouldn’t it stop?
You had been awake for well over 24 hours, which was when it had begun. This… whatever it was. Epidemic? Biological warfare? No news had come out of any of the tv or radio stations in hours, so no one knew the cause of the mass destruction of humanity that was occurring outside your front door.
You knew you had to move soon, but you were far too scared. You could hear them outside, shuffling through the bushes, their fingers clawing at the doors and windows, their dead eyes staring, but not seeing. You put your hands to your face in desperation. You so badly wanted to cry, but you couldn’t chance having them hear you. So tired. Maybe if you just closed your eyes for one second…
You nearly jumped out of your skin when a noise in the next room startled you from the sleep you had not meant to indulge in. How long had you been out? It was still night out, so the shadows offered you a place to hide. You scooted into the darkest corner of the room, although you knew if they had entered, you were doomed. They could smell the scent of live bodies in the air. No one who had not yet been bitten could elude them.
Footfalls thudded softly on the wooden floor. They were in the room with you. You dipped your head to your knees. You couldn’t bear to see. What if it was someone you used to know? Someone you used to love? What if your demise was about to come from someone in your own family… although no one who had turned was who they used to be. The thought of the loss of your loved ones tore at your heart, and for a brief moment, you wondered if dying was the worst thing that could happen to you tonight.
A bright light landed on your face and you gasped, raising your hand to shield your eyes.
“Don’t move!” a deep voice said. You knew that voice well. Relief flooded through you like a cool river.
“Peterson, it’s me.” you said in a loud whisper.
“L/N?” the voice replied. “Thank god! This was the last house I was going to search before I gave up.” He turned off his flashlight and you rubbed your eyes, temporarily blinded. He had been looking for you? You felt Peterson sit down on the floor beside you, the warmth of his body a welcome comfort.
It was quickly obvious that the zombie apocalypse was not enough to kill the awkwardness between the two of you. It had been ten months (ten months, one week and two… no, three days) since you’d broken up. It hadn’t been easy, considering the two of you had dated since high school. Worse than that, he had been your first true love. No, not had been. Still was.
As if he could read your thoughts (honestly, he probably could - the two of you had always been so perfectly in sync), you felt him turn to face you. Your eyes had started to readjust to the darkness around you, and you could see the moonlight from the window above you glint off the lens of his glasses. Good thing he’d managed to hold on to those - he was as blind as a bat without them. You fought the urge to brush his hair from his face.
“I’m sorry.” he said softly. You shook your head and looked away.
“Not now, Peterson.” you had always called each other by your last names since you had met in ninth grade, and the trend continued even after you began to date. Other people thought it was weird, but you liked it. Like Bogie and Bacall, or Mulder and Scully. Other people. Were there even any other people left out there now? You heard him sigh beside you. “It has to be now, L/N. There might not be a tomorrow.”
He was right, and you knew it. Your heart ached inside your chest as you felt his hand slide underneath yours. God, you had missed him so much. You were far too strong and stubborn to tell him that, although your pride didn’t stop you from lacing your small fingers between his.
“I know you were angry when I went into the academy.” he began, and you leaned your head against the cool concrete wall behind you. Ok, so you were doing this. Fine. “I know that’s not what we had planned. But I never thought I’d lose you, L/N. I never thought you’d leave me.”
“I’m not the one who left, Peterson.” you shot back, maybe a little too loudly. You glanced towards the window and lowered your voice. “You’re the one that packed your bags and headed for the police academy without even so much as a goodbye. What was I supposed to think? You made your choice - the force over me.”
“That’s not true and you know it.” he retorted. His voice held a note of annoyance, but underneath, it was pleading. “The night before I left, you screamed at me to get out - that you didn’t want to be married to a cop, that I had ruined everything. You threw the ring back at me!” You scoffed at his words and turned to stare at the moonlight, now blurred through approaching tears. He wasn’t wrong - you had said those things, but you weren’t ready to admit it. “I didn’t wake you up when I left that morning because I didn’t want to fight again. I wanted to remember you how you were. Peaceful, and beautiful. My beautiful girl.”
“I was afraid.” you admitted, a lone tear hot against your cheek. “Cops put themselves in dangerous situations every day, Peterson. Cops get shot. Cops get dead.” you angrily swiped the tear from your cheek. “I wasn’t going to sit around every day wondering if the man I love was going to come home through the front door or in a body bag.”
“Am I still the man you love?” he asked softly. He was so close to you now you could feel the heat of his breath against your ear as he spoke. You closed your eyes against the memories. You had been so ridiculously happy. You had planned a whole life with him, and the night he had given you that ring had been the best night of your life. A terrorized scream outside on the street jolted you back to reality. He gripped your hand tighter to calm you.
“I will always love you, you big dummy.” you said, and he chuckled. You had never been able to be affectionate without a layer of cynicism to protect you. You had been hurt far too many times to display your raw, unmasked feelings. But he knew that. He knew everything about you.
“I love you too.” he said, and pulled you towards him. You laid your head on his shoulder, his voice like a lullaby to your exhausted ears. “And I’m sorry. I never looked at it from your perspective, and that was selfish of me. I guess I just wanted to be a hero, L/N. I needed to show all of those idiots from high school that goofy Peterson could be a badass.” he paused and turned his head, his lips against your hair. “I wanted to be your hero.”
“I happen to be very fond of goofy Peterson, thank you very much.” you said. You nuzzled your nose against his neck. His scent was there, even through the sweat and the grime. He smelled like comfort. He smelled like home. “And you are my hero. No one else came looking for me. No one else found me.”
“This could be our last night on earth.” he whispered, and you felt his hand slip from yours and slide up the length of your leg, underneath the thin skirt of your sundress. Seriously? Was this really a good time to... “Our last night together.” He said, and his deep voice rolled through you like a warm ocean wave. That seaside night played in your mind like a movie, when he’d asked you to be his forever -- the grin on his face when you’d said yes and he slipped the ring on your finger could have lit up that entire midnight beach. You had kissed him so hard and so fast you had tumbled together into the water, your bodies tangled together in the sand. His fingers caressed the skin of your inner thigh now, and you shivered back to reality. No one else could touch you the way he did. No one had ever made you feel the way he did. It didn’t matter - you never wanted anyone else anyway.
You pulled yourself up and straddled his lap, hitching the skirt of your sundress up above your thighs. He drew in a shaky breath as you snaked your arms around his neck. You leaned your forehead against his as you reached down with one hand to yank the shirt of his uniform from his pants. His huge, strong hands gripped the flesh of your thighs almost desperately, as if he were afraid to let go.
“You have an excellent point, Officer.” you whispered. “And if this is our last night together, then I know exactly how I want to spend it.” You reached up and removed his glasses and carefully placed them on the windowsill beside you. You were sad you couldn’t see his eyes in the darkness, but no matter - you had their honey brown warmth committed to memory.
Your kiss seemed to startle him at first, but within seconds, he was kissing you back, deeply and longingly. Suddenly, the last ten months of missing him, of sobbing his name into your pillow, of fighting the urge to run back to him every second of every day vanished as it they had never even happened. Now there was just the taste of him, his perfect mouth enveloping yours, the sound of his moans against your lips, the feel of his fingertips hot against your skin.
The din of the chaos on the streets outside faded until there was only your breathing, your heartbeats, syncopated, fast and throbbing. You could feel his need swell within him, quite literally as he pulled you tightly against him, the hardness of his cock grazing your mound through the thin fabric of your panties. You grabbed a handful of his hair and kissed him harder, grinding your hips against him, your own desperation evident now.
He slid his right hand up beneath your dress and your head snapped back, breaking the kiss, as you felt his fingers push past your panties and into the warm folds of your pussy. His movements were effortless, as you were already slick with anticipation and you fought the urge to cry out, but fuck, it felt so good. With his other hand, he unzipped the pants of his uniform, and you had his cock in your hot little hand before he even had the chance to free it completely. You remembered the first time you’d seen him completely naked, seniors in high school, scared out of your wits by the size of him, but so determined to give him the gift of yourself. He had been so gentle. You had discovered what true love felt like that night. And now, here it was again, whispering words of adoration against your throat as you stroked him and he stroked you.
He groaned so loudly when you lowered yourself onto him you had to clap your hand over his mouth to stifle the sound. He thrust upwards sharply with his hips and you bit into your own bottom lip to contain your cry of pleasure. You had almost forgotten the sensation of it -- he filled you so perfectly, so completely, as if you were matched pieces of a puzzle.
You moved your hips in rhythm with his as you rode him, your hands gripping his broad shoulders as his fingers dug into the flesh of your ass.
“Missed you… love you… please, baby girl.” he mumbled, incomplete thoughts fueled by passion tumbling from his lips. You kissed him then to quiet him, his cock twitching inside of you as he neared his release, your walls tightening around him in anticipation. You felt the pad of his thumb return to your clit, caressing it in maddeningly slow circles accented by almost cruel little flicks. Damn it, he knew just how to bring you to the brink, and he knew how much you fucking loved it too.
“Do you want to cum for me, L/N?” he asked, and just the sound of his voice saying those words was nearly enough to send you over the edge. You nodded and hummed in affirmation. “Then ask me. Ask me for what you want.”
“Please, I want to cum.” you pleaded softly, your hands gripping at the back of his neck.
“Please, who?” he demanded, his voice breathy. He was so close himself, you didn’t know how he was even coherent. “What’s my name?”
“Please,” you begged. You knew exactly what he wanted you to say, and you were in no position to refuse him.” Please, Officer Peterson, can I cum?”
“I’m going to count to five, and then you can cum.” he said, and you moaned in frustration. He loved this game, and you pretended to hate it, which was exactly what he wanted.
“One.” You sighed, willing yourself to wait for his count. Flashes of memories flooded your brain as your entire body trembled from the buildup of your climax. The first time he kissed you, awkwardly, sweetly, teeth clanking as he bent his tall frame towards you too quickly, afraid someone would see as the two of you hid haphazardly beneath the bleachers on the baseball field.
“Two.” The first time he’d told you he loved you -- the words had slipped out of his mouth as you lay watching a movie together, and he hadn’t even realized he had said it until he saw the look on your face and the tears in your eyes. His glasses had flown off his face as you attacked him with kisses, laughter melting into much more passionate noises as he made love to you right there on your mama’s living room sofa.
“Three.” The day he told you he had applied and been accepted to the police academy. How his face had fallen when your reaction hadn’t been what he expected. How your desperate fear of losing him completely, the one single thing you loved most in the world, cast a shadow so dark and thick it would eventually separate you from him.
“Four.” You had entered late, face hidden beneath the brim of your hat, but nothing in the world would have kept you from watching him graduate from the academy. Warm tears cascaded down your cheeks as you watched him walk, so handsome in his crisp new uniform. Your pride knew no bounds. If only you could have told him then.
“Five.” time stopped in that split second, your eyes locked with his in the darkness of the basement of a house with nameless owners. What was this world now, anyway? Everything had changed. Reality itself seemed to teeter on the brink. And yet here he was, yet again, the one constant in a world gone insane.
You had never come undone like you did in that moment -- as if your body knew this might be it’s last chance to show him what he truly did to you. You spasmed around him so tightly that he hissed between gritted teeth, his own orgasm impossible to contain now. He bucked against you, wildly almost, spilling into you as he groaned and gasped into the flesh of your shoulder.
You held him when the waves had subsided, begging yourself not to cry, not to ruin what time you had left together. You were both ignoring the fact that you could hear the hordes of undead outside, growing, advancing.
“We have to go.” he said, “We can’t stay here.” You nodded. You went to the tiny unfinished basement bathroom to clean yourself up, catching a glimpse of yourself in the dirty mirror, lit only by a dim, bare bulb. You looked like shit - dark circles under your eyes, skin pale and streaked with grime. And what the fuck was in your hair? You grabbed a strand to try and strip out the gunk.
“My beautiful girl.” he said when you came up behind him and the sound of your laugh at his remark startled you both. It was then that you saw him for the first time that night -- scratched and scraped and streaked with dirt and gore. He had leaned a large machete against the doorframe of the bathroom, as if he were afraid for the weapon to be too far away from his grasp. Undaunted, you wrapped your arms around his waist.
“What if this is the end, my love?” you asked, inexplicably overcome with the paralyzing fear of losing him yet again. He reached up and slipped his fingers inside the front pocket of his uniform. He took your hand in his and you stifled a cry when you felt what he had done, pressing your face against his chest.
“This isn’t the end.” he said as he held you against him, his strong arms unwavering. “This is only the beginning.”
The bright moonlight reflected on the surface of the ring he had returned to your finger as the two of you exited the basement, hand in hand, together.
I wrote another Reylo short. This one was for a professor-student prompt, but I took it in a slightly different direction. Enjoy!
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Young teacher, the subject of schoolgirl fantasy
Detention. Again. If she wasn’t careful, people were going to catch on that Rey carefully planned her offenses so that she would receive her “punishment” only on certain days.
She sighed, earbuds in her ears, blaring the 80s rock music her friends made fun of her for. Her algebra textbook was in front of her but she hadn’t even turned a page in twenty minutes. She was distracted.
She wants him so badly, Knows what she wants to be
Mr. Solo, her chemistry teacher, sat at the front of the classroom typing on his laptop. Rey wondered what he was working on so intently. His brow furrowed as he had a thought, and he backspaced furiously to re-type a passage. As he was reading what he had written, he stuck the end of his pen in his mouth, absentmindedly rolling it against his ample lips, prompting Rey to moisten her own.
Inside her there's longing, this girl's an open page
Rey glanced around the empty room. How lucky was she to be the only one to get detention on that particular Tuesday afternoon? Her gaze turned towards the door. The halls were deserted this late in the day. The pep rally was starting soon in the gym on the other side of the building.
Book marking, she's so close now. This girl is half his age
Rey rose from her desk, algebra book in hand. She approached Mr. Solo.
Don't stand to close to me
(Ben. Her friend Jessica had told her his first name was Ben. Rey rolled the name around in her mind. It suited him.)
Her friends are so jealous. You know how bad girls get
“Um,” Rey hummed as she stood next to her teacher’s desk. The older man looked up from his laptop. He adjusted his glasses on his nose, giving Rey full view of the warm brown hue of his big, expressive eyes. “I was wondering if you could help me with this equation?” Rey continued, handing him the textbook. Mr. Solo pushed his laptop aside and put the book in front of him and looked over the problem in question.
Sometimes it's not so easy to be the teacher's pet
“Ah yes, I see the issue. You’ve forgotten about the Distributive Property. Here, let me show you.” He rose from the desk and began to write on the white board beside them. Rey watched as his arms reached upwards, muscles rippling under the cotton fabric of his tidy button-down shirt. His sleeves were rolled up, revealing lean and naked forearms. She reached out, her fingertips grazing his skin. He stopped writing and stared at her.
Temptation, frustration so bad it makes him cry. Wet bus stop, she's waiting. His car is warm and dry
“Do you ever think about me? When you’re at home, by yourself. Late at night, maybe?” Rey asked, her voice soft but filled with adolescent need. “I do. I think about you. All the time.”
Don't stand so close to me
She took a step closer to him and he swallowed hard, adam’s apple bobbing as he glanced over Rey’s head to the hallway outside.
Loose talk in the classroom, to hurt they try and try. Strong words in the staffroom. The accusations fly
“It’s ok.” Rey cooed at him. She was so close to him now he could smell the scent of her strawberry shampoo. “Everyone’s at the stupid pep rally. Except for us. We’re here. Alone.”
It's no use. He sees her. He starts to shake and cough
Rey’s hand moved from his arm to his chest, and her fingers slipped almost casually between his buttons to graze flesh. She looked up at him. So tall. So gorgeous. She could make him hers.
Just like the old man in that book by Nabakov
Rey jerked him to her by the fabric of his shirt, a surprised sound emanated from his mouth as their lips met. Awkward at first, he relaxed against her as her arm slipped around his waist. His hands found the softness of her caramel colored hair.
Don't stand so close to me
A sharp noise startled Rey and she looked up, the daydream dissolved. Mr. Solo was standing beside her desk, glaring at her. She popped the earbuds out of her ears, the last refrain of the Police song fading away.
“Detention is over.” he said. “Glad to see you were able to get some work done.” he finished sarcastically, glancing down at her untouched algebra book. He turned away and walked back to his desk. Rey gathered her items and shoved them in her backpack and walked to the door.
“Try to stay out of trouble, Ms. Jackoby.” Mr. Solo said as Rey exited the classroom. She glanced at him just as he reached up to run a hand through his jet black hair. “Our Tuesday meetings are becoming far too frequent.”
Rey grinned as she slipped her earbuds back into her ears.
I hope you enjoy this short Reylo piece I wrote for a challenge in a Reylo fic group. This was way outside my comfort zone because I don’t normally write canon and it’s a very ambiguous style as well. I do like how this turned out tho. Would love any feedback!
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Years had passed. Years of conflict, loneliness, bitterness and grief. Now, finally, they shared everything. Their lives. Their bed. Their light and their darkness.
Their balance, while still tumultuous at times, was beginning to smooth. Each of them carried within them the light and the dark, a swirling mix of gray.
When Ben had finally found Rey, he was broken and defeated both in body and in soul. She had brought him back from the brink of death with her tender care. She loved him, as she always had, and he returned it tenfold. His light was already beginning to spark within him then. Rey could see it as a pale blue-white aura around him, flickering and wavering, but intensifying. She took comfort in that dim but persistent light within her lover, coaxing it to thrive.
Yet Rey was wary. With every pulse of Ben’s intensifying light, a darkness gnawed within her. It was not a thing unknown to her. She had felt it since childhood, night terrors of gnashing teeth and shredding claws, keening just below the surface of her subconscious. It had called her name on Ach-To and she had answered long enough to feel its power. Now, however, it had eyed its prey in the shadow of Ben’s light, and it was begging to run free.
The very first time, it happened quite unexpectedly.
When they played, they played hard. They always had. Ben relished the chase, and Rey delighted in obliging him her capture. What would follow was always intense, their passions overtaking them utterly, their already heated intimacy escalating into near frenzy.
But that night, everything changed.
When Ben brought Rey to the brink, she was not alone. As she gripped Ben with her release, the darkness secreted within her turned inside out, eclipsing her light. When she lifted heavy lids, shivering from the cold, she looked through cimmerian eyes, her surroundings veiled.
There had to be balance. The Force would always see to that.
As he spilled inside of her, Ben’s light found purchase and flashed like a beacon in it’s radiance. Brilliant and blazing, he flushed from it’s heat. When he turned honey brown eyes upward, they glittered with luminescence, the world in vivid focus.
Breaths and heartbeats syncopated.
Lovers united in unique harmony.
Neither succumbed to their newfound gifts, but basked instead in the beauty of their balance.
6,854 words. NSFW under the line. Also available here on Ao3. Please leave kudos or comments if you’d like me to continue this plot line.
Hey, @Clydeloganlogan, I wrote a little story about that time we met, baby!
You were so out of your element.
“Turn right onto Old Farm Road” your GPS instructed. You made the turn and were promptly met with a spray of red clay dirt and loose gravel under your tires. You slowed the car, confused. A dirt road? That couldn’t be right, could it? You quickly swung your rental car around and the GPS tried to recalculate, but... signal lost.
Just great. Lost in the backwoods of West Virginia. Somewhere in the back of your mind, a familiar banjo tune began to play. You flipped on your high beams and managed to find your way back to the main road you had turned off of. But... where were you supposed to go now?
You saw the glow of colored neon in the distance as you rounded a curve. As you got closer, you realized it was a restaurant, or a bar, maybe?
Duck Tape?
What kind of name for a bar was that? You parked your car and grabbed your phone, praying someone in this hillbilly oasis would speak coherently enough to give you directions to the motel. You walked through the door and your senses were immediately overcome by the smell of stale beer, tobacco in several forms, and a hint of cheap cologne.
The moment you stepped inside, every head in the bar turned to look at you. It got noticeably quieter as twenty or so pairs of eyes carefully looked you over, determined you were definitely not from around there, then went back to their conversations.
Wow. Must have been because you missed the memo about it being “dirty overalls and cowboy boots Friday”.
You opted to avoid the tables and booths and decided to tuck yourself into a corner at the bar instead, attempting to be as invisible as possible. Maybe the bartender would be able to...
‘Damn. They grow ‘em big in West Virginia!’ you thought to yourself as you and the extra-large bartender locked eyes with each other for what seemed like an awkward eternity.
He was handsome, with dark hair that was a little too long (but it looked good on him), and facial hair (something else you didn’t normally care for, but on him, it was perfection). He had on an old 70s band T-shirt with a flannel shirt over it, and jeans that were just tight enough to make you notice.
It was his eyes that confounded you. Big and brown, those eyes peered at you now like a scared little kitten. Why in the hell was this Sasquatch of a man afraid of 5’2” you?
“Hi!” You said to break the ice, and you thought you saw him jump a little at the sound of your voice. “Uh... I just drove in from Chicago.I think I’m a little lost? I was trying to find Hwy 5? My GPS crapped out on me up the road from here.”
The bartender just stared. You could have sworn this man’s fight or flight response was attempting to engage.
“Yeah, so...” you continued. “If you could point me in the right direction? Also, I’m starving. Do you guys serve food?”
“Yep.” He replied, and then proceeded to turn and walk away. You sat for a moment, utterly perplexed, when you heard a chuckle to your right. You turned to the man sitting there, dressed in a grease-stained work shirt and baseball cap.
“Don’t worry about him.” The man said. “That just means he likes you. He’ll be back in a second with the menu.” He stuck out his hand. “Jimmy Logan.” He said. You took his hand and shook it. “The not so jolly giant over there is my little brother Clyde.”
“Little brother?” You said with a laugh. “What does your big brother look like?”
Jimmy pointed at you and slapped the bar as he laughed.
“I like you! You’re funny!” He said, taking a sip of his beer. At that moment, Clyde came back over, menu in hand. He looked at you, then at Jimmy, and back at you, frowned as he slid the menu in front of you, and walked away.
You looked over the menu and settled on some BBQ chicken nachos. Clyde took your order and tapped it into the point of sale computer. That’s when you saw it. Clyde had been holding his left hand behind him slightly since he’d walked over to you earlier, almost as if he had been hiding something. Now you saw why. In place of his left forearm and hand was a high-tech mechanical prosthetic. Jimmy must have seen you staring (although you hadn’t meant to).
“He’s sensitive about it.” Jimmy said. “The hand.” He tipped the neck of his beer bottle towards his brother, as if he needed to clarify who he was talking about.
“That’s understandable.” You replied. “I can’t imagine how difficult it must be. He looks like a sweet guy too. Quiet. Does he ever talk?” You asked.
“Lord, yes.” Jimmy retorted with a chuckle, and took another sip of his beer. “There are nights when I wish I could shut ‘im the hell up!”
“Good looking guy, too.” You said under your breath, but Jimmy must have had excellent hearing because he raised his eyebrows at you and grinned. You blushed when you realized you’d been heard.
“Welp, gotta make a trip to the office, then I’m heading home.” Jimmy said suddenly as he got up from his bar stool. He drained the rest of his beer in one sip when he stood, then nodded towards you. “Been nice talkin’ to you, city girl! Be safe out there.”
You smiled at Jimmy and said goodbye. He was halfway to the back of the bar when you realized you still didn’t know where the hell you were!
“Wait, Jimmy!” You called. “Can you give me directions to Hwy 5?” Jimmy turned and smiled and shrugged.
“Clyde’s yer man for directions. Have a good night, doll.”
Clyde was looking at his brother like a deer in the headlights from the other end of the bar. Jimmy just winked at him and tilted his head back in your direction. You smirked. What had that little interaction been about?
In a few minutes, Clyde brought your food.
“So, it’s Clyde, right?” You asked before he could slip away again. He nodded shyly.
“Yep.” He said. “What else did my brother tell ya’?” His drawl was slow and very West Virginian, but every syllable was enunciated as if he had carefully considered each word before speaking it.
“Nothing really,” you replied “other than you’re a nice guy, and you can give me directions to the highway.”
“Well, yeah. I reckon I can.” Clyde said. You popped a nacho in your mouth as he continued. “Where on five are ya’ headed?”
“Comfort Inn motel.” You replied.
“You in town for long?” Clyde asked, and he stumbled on a couple of the words, as if asking that question made him very nervous. You grinned.
“For a week.” You replied. “Visiting my aunt on her farm. I didn’t want to roll in on her so late at night though, so I decided to get a room.” You flushed slightly, feeling like you were oversharing. There was something about Clyde, though. You wanted to get him talking for some reason.
You chatted for a while about the town, and your aunt’s farm. You soon discovered that, just like his brother said, getting Clyde to talk wasn’t that difficult once you had him engaged in a subject he was familiar with. He would chat with you for a while, then go take care of patrons, but as soon as he was done he would quickly make his way back to you.
You noticed the more comfortable Clyde got, the closer he would get to you as you conversed. Soon, he was leaning on his forearms on the bar right in front of you so that the two of you were at eye level. It was then that you realized just how incredibly gorgeous this walking plaid-covered brick wall of a man really was.
As the night became late-night, the bar gradually emptied until it was only you and two or three locals who required little attendance. As you were reminiscing about the tire swing your aunt had put in the big oak tree at her farm (you wondered if it was still there), Clyde came around the bar and took the seat next to you.
“What made you decide to become a bartender?” You asked Clyde. You were playing with the straw from your glass of soda, twisting it in your fingers. You were nervous. No, not nervous. You were... flustered? What was this guy doing to you?
“It was a necessity more’n anything, I reckon’.” Clyde replied. “When I opened this place, it did not occur to me that findin’ a qualified bartender would be s’hard. My sister Mellie makes a dern good cocktail, but her passions lie with hairdressin’, not bartendin’. Not to mention Jimmy near ‘bout killed a guy that popped her on the rear the one night she did work here. So I did the responsible thing as a business owner, and learned to do it my own self.”
“Wait.” You said, an element of surprise in your voice. “You OWN this place? Wow, Clyde, that’s impressive!” You leaned over without even thinking and brushed your elbow against his. The metal of his prosthetic was smooth and cool against your skin. You felt him retract his touch from you slightly, although you could tell it was more of a reflex than a reaction.
“You know what I do?” You asked him. “For a living, I mean.” You glanced at him. He turned his eyes towards you in anticipation.
“I’m a physical therapist.” You continued. “Just finished school last year, but I’ve been working with the VA in Chicago for six months already. I guess you could call it an internship, but I think I’m going to take a permanent position.”
“The VA?” Clyde repeated. “You work with veterans?”
“Every day.” You nodded and smiled. “Where were you stationed?” You were making an assumption, but you wouldn’t have made a bet that you were right.
“Lejeune, in North Carolina.” Clyde confirmed your educated guess. “‘Til I was deployed to Iraq.”
“Semper Fi.” you said in reply, and the look he gave you made something deep inside you quiver. “And at the risk of sounding cliche, thank you for your service.”
“Not at all.” He responded, and his voice was soft. “Knowin’ someone sweet as you appreciates it makes it a little bit easier.” You blushed at his words, although you didn’t know why. What was it with this guy? You decided to steer the topic away from an obviously difficult subject.
"So, um…. I know I'm only in town for a week, but..." you couldn't believe you were about to say what you were about to say to a guy you'd known for only a couple of hours. "Would you go to dinner with me one night? I've enjoyed talking to you, Clyde. I'd really like to get to know you better."
"Darlin', I'd go to supper with you every night and twice on Sunday." Clyde replied in earnest, and when you looked up at him, the grin on his face made your cheeks go an even darker shade of crimson.
"Got your phone on you?" you asked, and he fished it out of his shirt pocket. It was an ancient model iphone with a crack that ran across the top corner.
"I don't have much need for one of them fancy smarty-phones." he said sheepishly when he saw your reaction. "I don't do a whole lotta' callin' or text-messagin'."
"Well then," you replied with a gleam in your eye. "Let's see if we can change that." You opened up his contact app and added your name and number, and then saved it. You leaned over so the two of you could look at the tiny screen together. You noticed that this time, when your arm pressed against his, he didn't draw back. You showed him how to open the contacts, and where you name was, and how to click the icon to call you.
"Now watch this." you said. You showed him how to open the messages app. "Send me a text." He looked at you like you'd just asked him to do the impossible.
"Don't you have to have two thumbs to do that?" he asked, and you almost giggled when you suddenly realized he was serious. You smiled at him and shook your head.
"Not at all. Here, let me show you.” You took his phone and put it in his right hand. "You can hold the phone and text with your thumb at the same time." You put your own phone in your right hand and demonstrated, although your tiny hands made it look awkward, and you nearly dropped your phone twice. "Well, you get the idea. And your hand is..." you stared at his hand and cleared your throat a bit when you realized you were taking a little too long to continue your thought. "bigger...I mean… big.. enough... so that you shouldn't have the same problem as I do. Give it a try!"
"What should I say to ya'?" he asked, and this time you did giggle.
"Anything you want! And when you're done, press that little icon right there to send it."
He balanced the phone in his hand and used his thumb to type. Damn, he caught on quick. You watched as he worked the tiny phone with skill, and your mind could not help but wonder what else those fingers could do. Your phone suddenly dinged, startling you from your daydream. You read the text he sent.
'tuesday night at 7? it is italian night at the elks club and martha edwards makes a mean lasagna.'
You smiled like a smitten school girl and typed your reply.
'Tuesday night with you and Martha's lasagna sounds like the perfect date.' Once you hit send, you heard his phone vibrate. He clicked and read it, and smiled like a smitten school boy.
"I suppose I could get used to that." he said. "I get kind of nervous when I have to talk on the phone. Writin’ is easier. I can think about what I wanna say before I have t'say it." He was still sitting close, right up against you, and his scent - the smells of the bar mixed with his own woodsy musk - was frankly intoxicating. You felt that sensation deep inside you again.
"If you think that's cool, check this out!" You turned and made a silly face and took a selfie with your phone, then sent it to him in a text.
"Oh, darlin', you need ta’ stop." he said with a chuckle when he saw the texted photo. "I don't know if I can take much more. Bad enough I have to think about you 'til Tuesday night. If you send me pretty pictures..."
"Who says we have to wait until Tuesday?" you said, and you could only imagine what look you had in your eyes, because when he turned to you and saw it, he froze.
"I, uh..." he stammered, and you quickly realized your mistake. This wasn't some slick Chicago city fuck-boy. Clyde was a man of honor who obviously respected the women in his life, and probably hadn't had a whole lot of one night stands, if any.
"I'm so sorry." you said to rescue him from the awkwardness. "I don't know where that came from. I just... I guess I'm kind of taken by you, Clyde. That was uncalled for, though. I apologize."
"No, no. Don't apologize. I… I’m flattered, darlin’. I wish I was as brave as you!" he replied. His face had started to redden.
"Did the Marine war veteran just say he wishes he was as brave as me?" you laughed, and he chuckled along with you. "I don't think that was bravery, Clyde. More along the lines of brazen stupidity on my part. You know what? I should get going. I'm supposed to be at the farm for breakfast tomorrow. My aunt’s pancakes are something you never want to be late for!”
“Let me walk you to your car.” he said. “Gets real dark out in that parkin’ lot.” You smiled warmly at his chivalry. When you hopped off your bar stool and turned, you were struck with the realization of just how much bigger than you he was. He towered over you by at least a foot, maybe even a little more. And dear God, he was broad in ALL the right places. The two of you walked side-by-side out to your car, and when you beeped the key fob on the rental, Clyde immediately grabbed the door handle before you could do it yourself, and opened your door. You climbed inside, and he leaned over to give you directions.
“Now when you leave the parkin’ lot, you’re gonna turn left, then take the second left, alright?” he waited until you had nodded in agreement to continue. “Take that road until you get to tha’ red light. That’s Highway 5. Take another left, and the motel is gonna be down about a mile. If you see the dairy farm, ya’ went too far.”
He gently shut the door of the car, and you promptly rolled the window down. He leaned over and rested his forearm against the door so that he was eye-level with you. “Now if you get lost, don’t try t’find yer way back here. Just gimme a call, alright?” You nodded up at him with a smile. Before he could stand, you quickly leaned over and snuck a kiss on his cheek. You thought he might burst, he looked so surprised.
“What was that fer?” he asked, but his voice was soft.
“For being a gentleman, Clyde Logan.” you said, and started the engine of the rental. “I’ll text you when I get to the motel, ok? Don’t want you to worry about me.”
“Well, I’m prob’ly gonna do that anyway, just so ya’ know.” He stood then, and stepped back from the car. “Be careful, darlin’. Watch fer’ deer! They’ll jump right out in front of ya’”
You waved out of the open window as you pulled out of the parking lot.
The Comfort Inn wasn’t quite as comfortable as you would have liked. It looked more like the Bates Motel that had had a quick slap of paint and some new bed linens applied, but what could you expect this far out in the middle of nowhere? Once the attendant had given you the key, you parked your car in front of the door to your room and grabbed your bag and went inside. Thank goodness your room was on the front side of the building, where there was some light from the big bright sign by the side of the road.
Once inside, you took a quick shower, slipped on your favorite t-shirt and a pair of boy shorts, and slid into bed. At least the mattress was fairly comfortable, and the sheets were soft. No wifi (big shock) but you had just enough of a signal right off the highway that you would be able to text Clyde. That thought sent a little quiver to a place it probably shouldn’t have.
‘Made it to the motel!’ you sent. Before your phone screen could even dim, you saw he was typing a reply.
‘I’m glad your safe. everything there alright?’
‘Yep! Right as rain.’ you wrote back ‘Took a shower and I’m already in bed. No wifi here so no Netflix tonight.’
‘Netflix. that is the movie place on the internet right?’
You smirked. God, he was adorable. ‘Yes, it is indeed that movie place on the internet. I’ll have to show you how to Netflix and chill sometime.’ you typed, knowing full well it would go straight over his head.
‘that sounds real nice sweetheart’’
Mission accomplished. Now to seal the deal. You took a selfie in the low light of the room, the tattered neck of your sleep shirt showing a hint of your cleavage, and just enough of your bare hip in the pic to get the point across without being tacky or distasteful. You attached it to the text with the words ‘Sweet dreams’.
You thought for sure you had overstepped when he didn’t answer for what seemed like forever, or maybe that he’d fainted and hit his head on the bar when he’d seen the pic. You were into your second round of solitaire on your phone when it finally dinged.
‘Darlin your prettier than the first peach of the summer.’ he typed. You assumed that was a compliment and replied as such.
‘Why thank you, kind sir. You’re not so bad yourself, you know.’
‘Oh I don’t know about all that.’ he replied and you could nearly feel his embarrassment through your phone screen.
‘Trust me, Clyde. You are a very good looking man. You know what? Scratch that. Baby, you are HOT!’ you typed back, and even added the little flame emoji at the end. Fuck it, you were going to put all your chips on the table.
Again, a long pause that made you nervous. Finally, his reply.
‘Well I’m not one to argue with a lady, so I will take your word for it.’
Damn, that hadn’t gone over exactly like you had wanted it to. Why was this guy so nice? You decided to dial it back a notch and maybe appeal to his heroic side.
‘It’s so dark out here.’ you told him in your next text. ‘Chilly tonight too. Glad you’re there to text with me or I might be scared.’
The little dots animated to show he was typing, and they seemed to go on forever. Either he was writing you a novel, or he was having trouble getting out what he wanted to say. You were betting on the latter.
‘You ok?’ you asked, ‘You can tell me anything, Clyde. I certainly haven’t had much of a filter tonight, but I can’t help how much I like you. I know it sounds silly, especially since we just met, but I was attracted to you the minute I saw you. I wish we’d had more time together tonight.’
The little dots stopped as he read your message. There was a pause, and then they started again. This time, it didn’t take long for his message to appear.
‘Me too.’ it said simply. But then, ‘Do me a favor?”
‘Of course’ you replied, silently hoping he was going to ask for another, possibly more risqué selfie (although you sincerely doubted he would).
‘Take a look out the window.’ You furrowed your brow as you read the message. What the...? You slid out of bed and pulled back the curtain of the single window just enough to glance outside. There, on the other side of the parking lot was Clyde, standing against an old beat up pickup truck, phone in hand. You snapped the curtain closed and pressed your back against the wall, unable to suppress a giggle. Holy shit! You quickly typed a response.
‘Well what the hell are you doing standing out there in the cold? Come in here where I’m warm.’
Barely ten seconds passed before there was a tapping on the door. You opened it, making sure to stand back so no one would see you in your underwear. The room was dark, save for the little light over the sink in the bathroom which cast a warm orange glow out into the room. Once he was inside, you opened your mouth to say something cute and sassy to him, but before the words could come out, Clyde had you in his arms (both of them, you happily noticed). He lifted you up so that you were nearly face to face with him, sandwiching you between him and the door and god, he felt so good.
You wrapped your arms around his neck as he devoured your mouth with his. He kissed you like he was starving, tugging at your lips, dipping in with his velvet tongue, wet and deep and delicious. For a moment, you forgot to breathe, and when you did, it came as a gasp. He took that as a sign that you were enjoying what he was giving you (yes, you most certainly were) and he continued without abandon.
You moved your hands down to venture underneath his t-shirt as he kissed you, desperate to feel the warmth of his skin. When your fingers found flesh, you felt him shiver, and goosebumps raised beneath your fingertips. You moaned against his mouth as you felt his huge right hand squeeze the flesh of your thigh, and then move up to grip your scantily clad ass. You bucked against him slightly and felt him react beneath you, the bulge in his jeans becoming even more pronounced. You backed away from his mouth long enough to get two words out.
“Bed. Now.” you said, your voice raspy with need, and being the gentleman he was, Clyde immediately complied. He placed you gingerly on the mattress, took a moment to drink you in, and then began to undress himself. When he began to remove his flannel shirt, he looked down at his prosthetic. You spoke before he had the chance to get nervous about it.
“Whatever you’re more comfortable with is fine with me.” you said, and he nodded. He undid the straps and removed the prosthetic hand and laid it on the chair near the bed, then tossed his flannel shirt on top of it. His t-shirt was next and my god, he was beautiful. You thought about helping him undo his pants (it was the physical therapist in you), but he had that down to an art form and had unbuttoned, unzipped, and shimmied out of his jeans before you could as much as reach forward to help.
You realized you were behind in the game a bit, and pulled your t-shirt over your head. Your tits bounced free and you swore you heard him squeak under his breath, but he smoothly covered it by clearing his throat. You grinned and watched him continue to undress like it was the best show you’d ever seen. And honestly, it did rank very high on the list.
He hitched his thumb into the waist of his boxers and slid them down, and it was your turn to squeak. However beautiful you thought Clyde Logan was, his cock was ten times as magnificent. If you’d had any question about whether the size of his more outwardly viewable body parts were in proportion to the less accessible ones, that answer was a resounding YES.
Just when you thought you couldn’t stand not touching him anymore, he was on the bed, his huge, warm body hovering above you. You ran your fingertips up his chest and around his neck, and when he leaned in to kiss you, your fingers found purchase in his long, dark locks. God, his hair was so soft. His lips were so soft. But there was one thing that was most definitely not soft, and when you reached down and took it in your hand, you felt his entire body react. Your fingers couldn’t even close around his cock he was so thick, and you silently wondered how it would fit inside of you. That was a challenge you were most definitely willing to accept, the thought of which sent a chill up your spine.
He balanced his weight on his left elbow above your head, his right hand exploring your body as you lightly stroked his cock with your hand. His touch was simultaneously rough and soft, and he soon had you writhing with need beneath him. Your tits, the size of which you had always been proud of, completely disappeared underneath his massive hand, and when he pinched a nipple between thumb and forefinger, you cried out in pleasure.
“I’m sorry, darlin’” he said as he raised himself up off of you a bit, thinking he had hurt you.
“No, no.” you cooed, wrapping your free hand around his waist and pulling him back to you. “That was a happy sound.” You peppered his shoulder and neck with kisses and sighed against his skin when his fingers returned to your nipple. This time, he did not stop when he coaxed out your little cries.
His hand moved down and you wondered if it was possible to actually die of anticipation as he slowly slid his fingers beneath the top of your panties. When his fingers found your slit, you moaned into his shoulder, and you heard him draw in a breath between his teeth.
“God, darlin’, you’re so wet.” he whispered in your ear, and you hummed in response.
“Mmmmm… That would be your fault.” You replied with a grin, but then he slid two massive fingers inside you and you bucked beneath him. “God, Clyde!” you exclaimed, your fingers digging into his upper arms as he explored you, his thumb gently grazing your clit in maddeningly slow circles. He worked you into a near frenzy, your breath coming in little heated gasps. And the entire time, he kissed you gently here and there, every third or fourth kiss returning to your lips.
“Do you mind if I…” Clyde said suddenly, but then paused, unsure of himself. “I mean, would it be ok if I…”
“What do you want, baby?” you asked, your lips hot against his neck as you kissed and nipped at the flesh there.
“I’m just dyin’ to taste you, sweetheart.” he replied, and his voice was deep and filled with need. The mere thought of that man’s mouth on your pussy was enough to make you whimper so there was no way in hell you were passing up his offer. You thought about the logistics for a second, given your size and his (and the size of the small double bed) and came up with a solution.
“Lie down.” You instructed as you pushed him back with your hands. He did as you instructed, and when he was flat on his back, you slid your panties off and climbed on top of him, straddling his broad chest. “You want to taste me, baby?” You asked. He nodded. You almost felt guilty for teasing him, but on the other hand, you knew it was going to be worth it. You slid your fingers down into your slick folds and flicked your clit with your middle finger, whimpering softly. When your fingers were thoroughly wet with your juices, you removed them and held them over Clyde’s mouth.
“Open.” You instructed and his mouth popped open as if you had flipped a switch. You stuck your fingers in his mouth and moaned as he sucked your essence from them. You jerked your fingers out of his mouth and he made a disappointed sound which made you smirk. “More?” You asked, and he nodded his head, eager as a kid in a candy shop.
“Scoot down a little.” you instructed and again he complied immediately and without question (damn, his obedience was really starting to turn you on!) You raised up on your knees and positioned yourself over his face. Before you even had a chance to say a word, he had grabbed your hip with that massive right hand and thrust you down onto his mouth. You gasped loudly as he worked you with his lips and tongue and he grasped you so tightly against him, you wondered how in the hell he could breathe.
The noises he was making while he ate you out were utterly filthy. Wet, sloppy sounds accompanied his grunts of pleasure, and holy shit, they were driving you mad. You slammed one hand flat against the wall behind the bed to steady yourself as you reached down to grab a handful of that ample black hair. How was he so good at this? He knew just when to flick, and just when to suck, and just when you thought it couldn’t get any better, he slid those thick fingers back inside you. You came undone — immediately and with little warning. Your knees weakened and you barely had a chance to utter the first letter of his name before you were pulled into one of the most intense orgasms you had ever had.
Clyde reveled in every second of your orgasm, and when you were done, he gently moved out from under you and took you in his arms (again, both of them) and laid you back down on the mattress. He reached over and grabbed his t-shirt from the chair beside the bed and wiped his face before laying on his side beside you, his left arm behind your head. You melted against him, his big arms engulfing you as you laid your head on his chest and breathed him in.
“I just need a sec.” you whispered. Your voice sounded dreamy and far away.
“You take all the time you need, sweetheart.” He replied softly. The fingers of his right hand were stroking little patterns on your hip, his breath hot against your hair as he laid patiently beside you, allowing you time to recover. You silently wondered how such a generous lover could still be single. Hell, was he even single? How would you know? You just met him that night, and had already climbed into bed with him. You sighed deeply against his chest. You had come to the country to escape, but you evidently had not been able to escape your own bad habits.
“You ok?” Clyde asked softly. He had heard your sigh.
“Mmm hmmm.” you hummed against his skin. What did it matter anyway? You’d be gone from this place in a week, and all of this, including Clyde Logan, would just be a memory.
Even though you were still floating from your orgasm, you couldn’t stand to make him wait any longer, and besides, his massive cock pressing against your stomach was making you horny all over again. You pushed him onto his back, still amused at how he had no trouble letting a girl half his size do whatever you wanted with him. You kissed him, and the fact that he still smelled and tasted like your pussy drove you a little crazy, causing your kisses to become deep and heated. You grasped his cock in your hand and he moaned into your mouth as you stroked him. You flicked a bead of precum from the head of his dick and then broke your kiss with him so you could lick the sticky substance from the pad of your thumb. From the look on his face, you thought he might cum then and there.
“Mmmmmm.” you cooed, your thumb slowly caressing your bottom lip, then moving down between your breasts, down your stomach, and back to his cock, which twitched with anticipation of your touch. “I think I want more of that.”
You slid your body down his and when you reached your destination, you ran your tongue up the length of his ample shaft.
“Oh god, please, darlin’!” he exclaimed, and in response, you took his cock in your mouth. His breath hitched in his throat as you ran your tongue slowly around the perimeter of the head. When you released him from the warmth of your mouth, you weren’t surprised to hear him beg.
“Please. Please don’t stop.” he whimpered, which sounded utterly delicious to you in that deep, rich voice of his.
“Hold my hair.” you instructed, and scooped your hair back so he could take it in his hand. You returned to his cock, taking it slowly into your mouth as deeply as you could, but fuck, he was so thick. It wasn’t long before your jaws ached from the size of him, but you persevered, sucking him off while you stroked the base of his cock with your hand. It wasn’t long before you were both a mess, his cock and your lips slick with your saliva and his precum. His hand was grasping tighter at your hair, his hips jutting upwards with your downward strokes, his breath fast and shallow. He was so close. You were anticipating feeling the hot stream of his cum hit the back of your throat when he released your hair and gripped your shoulder.
“Alright, darlin’.” he said, and then to your surprise. “Stop now.” you released him from your mouth and gave him a confused look.
“What’s wrong?” you asked, wondering if you’d done something that he didn’t like.
“Nothin’s wrong.” he explained. “I just didn’t want to… you know... do that in your mouth. Doesn’t seem respectful.”
You blinked at him, remembering the thought you’d had about him in the bar earlier. Respectful of the women in his life. Boy had you called it. He patted the bed beside him.
“Com’ere, baby doll.” he said, and you felt a little tingle at his choice of new pet name. “I’ve got somethin’ better for ya’ than that anyway.” The desire in his deep voice rolled through you like thunder, and this time, you complied. You crawled up next to him, but he turned to fish for his jeans on the floor. When he found them, he reached in one of the pockets and pulled out a condom. Respectful and responsible, you thought to yourself. This guy really did have it all. You watched as he rolled it on, your breath quickening as you anticipated what was next.
He was so big -- not only his cock, but just huge in general, that it was incredibly intimidating to be beneath him, especially since you were so much smaller than him. He seemed to understand that, however, and knew how to defuse it. He began a campaign of sweet kisses that trailed against your hairline, down your cheek and to your neck, where he nuzzled for a moment, making you giggle as he tickled you with the hair on his chin. He chuckled at your response and leaned in against your ear.
“If I hurt you, just tell me to stop, alright?” he whispered and you nodded in reply. He dipped his fingers into your folds, as if he were testing to see if you were ready for him. You were. You spread your legs wide so that he could move between them, and wrapped your arms around his neck as he reached down to grip his cock and...
Oh! Oh my god. You felt your walls involuntarily convulse when he pushed inside you, unused to being so full and so stretched. He began his thrusts slow and shallow and you were thankful. It was a lot to take, but his patience allowed you time to adjust, and before long, you had both legs wrapped around his hips, and were meeting each of his thrusts with your own.
You had never been fucked so thoroughly in your life. Every nerve in your body was screaming with pleasure as he drove you mad with his long strokes. The head of his cock consistently found that elusive spot deep inside of you, and each time it did, you would cry out, which would only cause him to fuck you harder. You were soon panting as he growled and grunted like a wild animal atop you, and as you neared your release, you dug your nails into his skin and held on for dear life.
“Clyde! God, baby, yes” you screamed, repeating his name as a mantra over and over as stars filled your vision as you came. The second he felt your pussy tighten around his cock he threw his head back and you felt it deep inside you as he found his release.
He collapsed beside you, a heaving, sweaty, gorgeous mess. Once he had caught his breath, he rose up on his elbow and planted a kiss on your lips, then rose from the bed. Ah. So that was it then. The door to the bathroom clicked shut and you leaned over the side of the bed, searching for your panties and t-shirt. You had just laid hands on them when Clyde exited the bathroom. You were trying to convince yourself that you preferred this — a clean break without any complications, when Clyde was suddenly on the bed again and wrapped around you like a warm blanket, his head resting on your belly. Ok. Well, complications also made things interesting. Right?
You ran your hands back through his dark hair, occasionally twisting a strand around your finger as his breathing deepened. He fell asleep, a big warm puppy wrapped in your arms. But you lay awake, desperately wondering what you’d gotten yourself into.
Crossfade Chapter 11 is now available on Ao3! Thanks for being patient. I know it’s been a while. There’s quite a bit of Rey & Rose in this chapter, so I would love it if the Rose Tico fans would give this one a read, just to spread the mutual Rosie love.
The good news is, chapter 12 is already in the works, and I will be providing another update sooner than later. Also, a little FYI - we are nearing the end of the story, so hang with me (I estimate another 2-3 chapters after chapter 12).
Check out this incredible Kylo & Rey Crossfade FaceTime manip made for me by @seavici. Kylo with the guitar - Guh! I just cannot!!! I have so much love for this!!!
Thanks so much to @ekatheartist for her hecka sexy sketch of a scene in chapter 10 that I’m particularly fond of, and hope you will be too. If you’d like a sneak peek at chapter 10, look below the line underneath the sketch!
“Chocolate!” Rey said when the caterer handed her a small plate with a very large piece of cake on it. She was just about to shovel an equally large bite into her mouth when Kylo took the fork from her hand and shoved the bite of cake in his mouth.
“Hey!” Rey exclaimed in an annoyed tone, partly in mock anger, partly in actual anger (she really liked chocolate cake.) Kylo shrugged.
“You can’t eat the birthday cake before the birthday boy eats the birthday cake.” he said with his mouth full of chocolate. Rey narrowed her eyes. By the time Kylo recognized that mischievous grin that he loved so much, it was too late. Rey had scooped up two fingers full of chocolate icing and was headed straight for his face with them. He was able to side-step and grab her wrist in just enough time to keep her from smearing the fluffy frosting on his face, but the result was the glob of creamy confection dropping onto his shirt.
“Oops.” Rey said innocently but her eyes clearly showed that she had no remorse. Kylo chuckled. Still holding Rey’s wrist in one huge hand, he used a napkin in the other to scoop most of the frosting off his shirt. He then stuck Rey’s fingers in his mouth and slowly and very thoroughly sucked off the remainder of the chocolate. He watched, delighted, as her grin melted, replaced by crimson cheeks and a fire in her eyes so intense he could nearly feel the heat from it.
“Guess I’m changing shirts now!” Kylo said. He kissed the back of Rey’s hand before he let go of it. “Be back in a minute.” He walked to the master bedroom and slid the pocket door open and stepped inside. But as he turned, he caught Rey’s eyes and held her gaze for a moment before sliding the doors closed in front of him. She caught his drift and walked towards the bedroom, stopping to devour the last of her cake beforehand, so it wouldn’t seem so obvious to everyone that she was following him.
*EXCLUSIVE* Set 1 / 2 - view set 2 here - Adam Driver and Sarah Michelle Gellar on set filming the pilot episode of The Wonderful Maladys in New York City in May, 2009. HBO did not pick up the series for their lineup, although soon after, Adam was cast in the HBO series Girls.
We hope you enjoy our HQ pics. Please don’t repost, reblog instead!
