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#reylo fanfiction

Fictober day 19

“I can’t do this anymore.”

Reylo

They meet up at a seedy bar on some outer rim, desert badland. Surrounded by vagabonds and criminals they drink with their heads down, hiding their faces under cowls as they consume enough liquid courage to go through with their usual routine. 

They rent a small room at the local whorehouse, and then they drink some more, just for good measure. 

The Corellian whiskey is enough to abate some of Rey’s guilt, and it is also enough ease some of Kylo Ren anger. Still, their kisses are hasty and rough, and they’ve hardly prepped at all before he’s in her and she’s gasping and clawing at the musculature of his back. Is desperate and pathetic and when he comes inside of her she hates how much she likes it. 

When they’re through they lay in drunken silence. All of their oaths betrayed, all of their morals crushed beneath the weight of their writhing bodies. 

They should hate each other. But they don’t. They can’t. The very Force that inhabits all things will not allow it. 

So they war by daylight, and by cover of night they meet, they fuck to blow off steam, they pretend not to want more as they bask in the feeble afterglow. 

But the war is nearing its end, and soon enough one of them will know absolution, and the other will know the abyss of death. 

Rey cannot forget this fact, not even when he’s balls deep in her and she crying out in orgasm. She certainly cannot forget it when they are done, panting and sweaty and coated with sin. 

She sits up and begins to clothe herself in silence. She’s not so drunk that she can’t find her way back to her x-wing. 

“Where are you going?” Ren asks groggily. She hates how beautiful he looks naked. She hates how just the sight of him is enough to ignite a second fire in her belly. 

“I can’t do this anymore,” She says as she finishes righting her robes. She gathers her saber and her blaster and makes for the door. “Goodbye, Ben.” 

Kylo says nothing. He does not try to chase after her, or call her name. He knows she’ll be back, the Force won’t allow them to stay apart for long. 

Rey knows it, too. And as she walks away, come drying on her thighs, she hates that she cannot hate him. 

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Fictober Day 18

“you don’t see it?”

Reylo

The night presses in around them, deep and foreboding but also heavy with promise. It hides them, masking their sin as they make quiet love under a sky of imagined canvas, smattered with flecks of white paint stars. It is a place of their own imagining, a place away from war, and the Force, and the reality of death. 

When they are through, and their hot breaths cloud in the chill night air. Rey whispers into the space between them that the Force has intruded upon their rendezvous. 

“I saw something,” she admits. “Like on Ahch-To. I saw something but it wasn’t entirely clear.” 

Ben’s fingers trail over her naked side, counting her ribs and bypassing the soft swell of her breast respectfully, “What did you see?”

Rey continues on excitedly, entirely unaware of how her body was affecting him, “There was a temple, and there were Padawans and there was light all around, and… and…” 

She trails, and her beautiful face twists up in confusion.

“What is it?” He asks, and he kisses her jaw, feather light. 

“I- I didn’t see you. You really didn’t see it?” 

He blinks at her, “No. I didn’t see anything.” 

Rey sits up in the soft, emerald grass of their shared imagination. There’s come between her thighs and she crosses her knees to hide it as she considers his words, “Ben… I don’t…” 

She doesn’t have to say it, he can feel it through their bond. I can’t imagine a future without you in it. And isn’t that just grand, considering one of them must bend or die for this infernal conflict to end. 

He kisses her anyway, and tries to conjure images of his own future, but nothing comes. The Force is silent. 

He loves her in spite of the silence. 

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A Faulty Lock

Our hero and heroine learn the importance of locking doors when sharing living spaces in the ranch house at First & Co.

Kylo Ren had very few things to be thankful about in his life. However, the silence that greeted him in that moment easily topped the list. His day had been filled with the sounds of urgent demands, annoying questions and broken machinery. He didn’t need to come home to more false pleasantries in the bunkhouse at First & Co. 

Thankfully, most of the inhabitants avoided him but there were a few people who were still trying to engage in friendly banter. Kylo wasn’t here to make friends. He lived here because it was a condition under his contract with Order & Co. He was aware that it had been a ploy to keep eyes on him but it had been too amusing to watch Armitage Hux squirm at offering free housing.

Generosity was a word unfamiliar to Hux and his wife Phasma. The couple governed the farmlands at Order & Co. and the bunkhouses on the First & Co. properties with an iron fist. Those who could not abide by their rules were immediately thrown out and had to walk to town for accommodations. 

His boss could be a right bastard at times. Today had been one of those days where covering his ass had been more important than the safety of his workers. Kylo did not stand for that sort of bullshit and had said as much to the man’s face. In retaliation, Hux had insisted that Kylo’s passion for the safety of the workers should translate into personally investigating the tractor explosions within the warehouse. 

The ginger’s little mocking voice still circled Kylo’s mind as he slid off his muddy boots. Glancing at his wristwatch, he exhaled tiredly when the time glared 1:33 AM in neon green. The climb up the stairs and toward his assigned room was slow and treacherous. Awake since the crack of dawn, he wasn’t sure how he was still able to function. 

Flicking on the lights in his room, he assessed the space to make sure DJ, the live-in hacker, hadn’t made off with his belongings. He stared longingly at the neatly made bed in the corner contemplating the necessity of a shower this late at night. The grime under his nails and the stench from his overalls mocked him silently. Sweat and dirt soaked through his plaid button up and stuck to him like a second skin. 

Huffing, Kylo rummaged around his closet for a clean towel. His parents hadn’t been around to teach him much but they had on more than one occasion mentioned the importance of cleanliness.

Rey rolled across her bed again, splaying her legs trying to cool down. For most of the night, she had flipped her pillow over hoping that one side would be cooler than the other. It didn’t last long but she was running out of options.

Given the temporary lack of screen, her window was opened as wide as she dared. She wasn’t about to wake up with insect companions in her room or God forbid, an animal companion. The window situation didn’t seem to matter though. The air was still and muggy outside. It was wishful thinking for a cool midnight breeze.

Rey cursed the stinginess of her landlady. Phasma only complied with requests outside of the housing contract when it suited her. The unanticipated heat wave in their county did not suit her so the AC would remain off until the designated Summer months. The importance of replacing Rey’s broken window screen had also fallen to the wayside as new people had moved into the bunkhouse. First, the awkward radar technician had moved in at the beginning of the month and now it was the stoic farm hand that Phasma’s husband had recently hired. The latter had caused the most gossip within the bunkhouse. 

Kyle Ron had not made an effort to meet the other people living in the bunkhouse and people had noticed. Everyone found him to be strange and standoffish, often answering questions with sarcasm or unnecessarily rude replies. She avoided him as best she could after hearing the horrifying stories from DJ and Randy but she found his use of two names very strange. Not simply Kyle or Ron but Kyle Ron. What had his parents been thinking? That name did not match the man at all. 

Rey shimmied out of her shorts and tossed it toward her laundry basket hoping the partial nudity would make some kind of difference. Groggy, she begged for the sweet relief of sleep. She had been awake since the crack of dawn finishing the decorations for the final batch of cupcakes at the bakery. Her neck, back and feet still throbbed at the memory of swirling buttercream frosting across cupcakes in the same position for hours. Her muscles begged for rest and recuperation but her mind would not cooperate. It was so hot!

At the end of her rope, Rey stumbled out of bed and grabbed the towel hanging on her closet door. She had run out of ideas but she was sure that a cool shower would be her only option to cool down tonight.

There was something infinitely soothing about standing under a spray of warm water. His eyes were fixated on the shower drain. The water had pooled in a disgusting brown but had cleared slowly the longer he stood under the shower spray. He felt remade, renewed. He felt like a new man. 

Kylo was probably losing his mind from the exhaustion. Who knew that a tired Kylo Ren could be so spiritual? On a sigh, he grasped the shampoo bottle almost dropping the stupid thing. Soaping the thick strands of his hair, he almost groaned as he massaged a particularly pleasurable spot on his scalp. He was passing a bar of soap from one shoulder to another when he heard a distinctly female gasp behind him. Reflexively, he turned.

In his state, Kylo Ren was not sure how to interpret what was in front of him.

Through the clear glass of the shower, he saw a woman in nothing more than a short top and undies standing at the bathroom door. A pale yellow towel lay at her feet as if it had fallen from her slack hands. Rumpled light brown locks swirled around her shoulders while hazel eyes widened in surprise. 

He was surprised to see her eyes dip slowly down his body but he found himself doing the same thing. Her top was a thin silky affair that did nothing to hide the outline of protruding nipples. One strap hung loosely from a smooth shoulder adding to her rumpled appearance. White cotton undies encased curved hips that led toward long, toned legs and dainty feet. Half of a working brain cell wondered what those legs would feel like wrapped around his waist. 

In the next moment, the hot water shut off, dosing him in ice water as if to punish him for the uncleanliness of his thoughts. The shout that came out of his mouth was inhuman as he tried to move out of the shower spray. 

Rey snapped out of the spell as the man before her made the most jarring sound while jerking oddly to the side of the glass cage. Self-preservation had her twisting her body around and power walking toward the safety of her room. 

Randy stepped out into the hallway. 

Rubbing sleep out of his eyes, he asked, “Is everything okay?” 

“I saw nothing!” Rey replied a bit too forcefully. 

His eyes widened a fraction before confusion settled in. He turned toward her looking as if he would ask more questions but Rey powered past him. 

Slamming her door shut, Rey immediately locked the door and leaned against the wooden frame. She held her breath as male voices murmured in the hallway before doors were shut quietly. The sounds of the shower continued. Scanning her room as if it had answers, she stewed in the silence trying to process what had just happened. 

Closing her eyes, she rubbed her hands over her face in embarrassment. The darkness enhanced the images of a broad muscled body twisting as rivets of water trailed down thick thighs. 

Rey groaned into her palms before stepping toward her bed. This is what she got for being distracted and sleepy. She had not asked herself why the lights were already on beneath the bathroom door or why the shower was running inside. She had just opened the door.

In truth, she had stared uncomprehendingly at shifting shoulder blades and tight gluteal muscles a little longer than necessary before she realized what was happening. The sharp gasp had been involuntary. As Kyle Ron had turned around, she had gotten an eye full on bulging biceps, a broad chest and a shredded six pack. Oh, she was a terrible person because she had looked. She had looked! 

Traitorous eyes had followed the drops of water leading between two sculpted thighs and stared. Rey made a noise, flopping onto the bed with a new wave of notification. Sleep forgotten, she buried her face in a pillow not knowing what to do with herself.

The sudden silence of water pipes shook her out of her mental scuffle. The shower was no longer running. A lead weight dropped into her stomach as the sound of what could only be the bathroom door opened. Anxiety over the coming confrontation thrummed in her veins as footsteps drew closer and closer. 

The footsteps stopped in front of her door. 

Rey wasn’t sure she was breathing as the silence dragged in the darkness. The crickets were silent as they also waited for what would happen next. 

Then, the footsteps retreated, heading toward the other side of the hallway. She breathed a sigh of relief but something drew her toward the locked door. Unlocking it slowly, she eased the door open and peaked outside into the hall. It was empty. All the adrenaline left her body in a rush. 

She was about to shut the door again when she noticed something on the ground. The towel she had forgotten in the bathroom lay in a neat fold on the ground.

Onward to the next chapter

This story can also be found on AO3 and FanFiction.net

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With a US election looming and a pandemic cresting in a third wave, I’m gonna post some things this week and next just to give everyone something to focus on that isn’t terrifying. Some stories will be unfinished, some will be continuations, some will be drabbles or shorts. I can’t write much new during the week, but I’ll do my best to get you something.

My AO3

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Read Me Here 

View A03 for warnings

No one ever picked her.

She’d gotten so used to it that the thought of anyone ever actually choosing her, wanting to hang out with her, wanting to just be with her made her head hurt. It just wasn’t possible. It felt like a prank. Like someone was going to jump out of the bushes and it would all be some massive joke to them. To him. That she wanted to feel wanted. That she wanted.

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“Dear Rey,” he’d written a month before, whiskey on his tongue to keep him from turning coward, to keep him from believing it’s true what they say, I’ll be on my way, “I know I fucked up. This isn’t to pretend I didn’t. But I think you’d like this show. The lighting is incredible.” Two seats, orchestra, stage right for tonight.

It had felt like a cop-out sort of a letter. Wait for me. I’m coming. It was coming, he knew, much too late.

and you know what they did? they danced
↳my fic  for this year’s @reylofanfictionanthology || art commissioned from @lilibethsonar

shmisolo
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LINK TO CHAPTER 1

Pairings: Kylo Ren/Rey, Ben Solo/Rey

Rating: General Audiences

Word Count: 7,578

Status: Multi Chapter Fic - In Progress

Chapter Preview: 

The air left Rey’s lungs in a big ‘whoosh’ as she slammed down into the dirt, her body trying to decide whether the dull ache in her spine or the boot that had just connected squarely with her stomach was what was causing her the most pain right now. She let her eyes shut with a pained groan, waiting for her brain to stop rattling around in her skull before she dared to open them.

“You’re fast,” Kylo’s voice came from somewhere above to her. She peeked an eye open to see him leaning over her, that smug look of authority plastered to his face. “-But you’re relying on that too much. Strengths are good, but you show too much of it to your enemy and they’ll find a way to turn it into your weakness.”

Rey weakly glared up at him through the pain, taking his leather-clad hand once he offered it to her. She groaned again, the stretch of being pulled up to her feet making the muscles in her abdomen twinge in protest. “Yeah? You know what else my weaknesses are? Being kicked in the stomach…”

Link To Fic

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Click Below To Keep Reading

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WC: 1.4k words
Characters: Ben Solo, Rey Palpatine, Jannah “Storm”,
Warnings: Medical stuff, angst and a sparkle of fluff to illuminate our date. I have a feeling you’ll enjoy where I’m going with this now. 

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You hold me close (You wouldn’t have me any other way)

Time, they said, is the best friend for those seeking healing, and maybe the saying was right. Living with Rey was now somehow easier now that she didn’t have the wight of hiding her state from him, and they had a routine. He accompanied her on walks - something that proved itself helpful with the recovering from the preeclampsia and the surgery - and learnt very quickly things important to their little family: how important pumping every two hours was to keep the milk flowing, and how the milk should be properly stored. He slept with the soft blankets Jannah had given him and Rey, and watched them be put around his daughter, so she could be accustomed to how her parents smelt. 

His patients had been given to different doctors according to their preferences and needs, as both him and Rey had decided to take the year off regardless of when Ophelia was to leave the hospital. They needed to work on their relationship, to learn how to co-parent and - above all - to care for their baby girl, and they didn’t want their jobs to be in the middle of that. 

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A new story by delia-pavorum

luminous beings | rated: M | chapter 1/2 

An exploration of Rey’s unseen grief over Ben’s death at the end of TROS. 

(feat. Force Ghost Ben and a happy ending.) 

preview:

The moment he is gone she forgets how to grieve.

The first and only thing she feels is pain, sharp and unyielding, like she has been run through by a lightsaber right in the soft spot at the base of her neck.

The pain fades quickly and is replaced instead by a hollowness that spreads from the centre of her chest outwards; an implacable coldness that consumes her quickly. She feels her face ease from its tormented grimace into something that might have almost been considered serene if it didn’t feel so much like a brumal death from within. She exhales softly, a light breath released from lips that have gone numb.

Her hands dazedly pat the soft material of his tunic, still warm from his body, as though she has somehow just missed him. As though she’ll still make contact with a solid form underneath and within.

Instead, all she encounters is the scrabbled ground beneath the fabric. There is no warm, breathing, living man within. It is now just an overlay for the hard unyielding rock below.

Had it truly been just moments before that she had held him in her arms, legs spread across his, their chests touching?

Was it really only seconds prior where their lips had met, held and captured, his mouth moving against her own? The feel of his fevered breath expelling from his nose and hitting her cheek as they desperately, awkwardly tasted each other for the first time? His arms hefting her, holding her, crushing her to him?

Had it even really happened?

For a moment she wonders if maybe she is dead again.

Maybe she is still dead.

Maybe she was always dead?

The feeling is the same, after all. The feeling of being trapped in that horrid liminal space where she had screamed and screamed in isolated terror, her voice singular amongst the endless stars; that inky blackness symbolizing a blank eternity.

Her throat feels raw, raw like she is still screaming although her face does not move aside from the slow descent of her eyelids, blink after painful blink.

Her breath comes out in short bursts as she scrambles up on shaky legs. At the last second she reaches down and grasps the shirt still on the ground, crumpling it up and sticking it under her arm. Her feet feel like leaden weights, knees wobbling, the coldness in her chest beginning to feel like an icy burn.

And she starts to move.

✨ continue reading on AO3

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