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srorgana1 · 2 months

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Honoring the Past

Rock Star Kylo Ren/Reader

Warnings: physical and mental abuse of a child, alcoholism, mentions of homophobia, and lots of complex emotions

Huge thanks to my amazing friend and Beta @mrs-zimmerman ❤️

A cackle of laughter hits Kylo’s ears as he enters D’Kar Studios. He smirks, settling his helmet on his hip as he sees Taylor "Trax" Johnson, DeeDee and the front desk clerk Amelia laughing jovially at something on Trax’s phone. It still amazes him how different it is here compared to First Order Records. He remembers how stuffy and by the book it was. There was no joy, no smiles, just cut-throat business practices and the music that fueled in. He thanks the deities above for letting him finally see the light and detach himself from that toxic black hole of a company.

DeeDee turns to him, a wide smile spreading across her face. “Hey Kylo” she says through giggles “you all are set up in Room #3 today.” He nods at them, and heads down the hallway. He turns left at the intersection and takes in the various awards and accolades adorning the walls. He sees their platinum award proudly displayed under a shadow box along with a vinyl sized picture of the front of the Trials and Errors album. It broke records in sales and downloads and won them multiple awards. It showed the industry that success could be done differently.

He scans the walls at the other awards from other artists proudly displayed alongside. It didn’t matter here if you were fresh off YouTube or one of the biggest names in the scene, you were treated equally with respect and kindness. You were part of the D’Kar family. Kylo can attest it’s a great fucking place to be.

He sees the record light lit above Room #3. Looking through the window his brows crinkle slightly in confusion. He was used to seeing you at the soundboard with your custom sparkly blue Bose headphones on. But no, you are in the studio room alongside D’Kar’s videographer Vincent recording Vic on your phone. Why is the record light on then if you're both in there? His hand squeezes the doorknob and twists, entering silently.

A wave of nostalgia hits him as the haunting melody of Good Riddance (Time of Your Life) floats on the cool air-conditioned air. His head snaps to the large window as Vic hits the strings of his acoustic guitar, transitioning into the well-known chorus.

It’s something unpredictable

But in the end, it’s right

I hope you had the time of your life

Kylo sets down his motorcycle helmet on the soundboard and leans on his hands, losing himself in a memory…

He is twelve years old, walking down the sun baked sidewalk. His worn and dirty Converse slap the concrete below, a size too small for his rapidly growing feet. The strap from his heavy book bag digs into his shoulder. He looks at the watch on his wrist. The cracked electronic screen blinking up the time. He cannot go home yet. His dad is still there.

The healing burns on his shoulder flares upon thinking about it. He shifts his bookbag away from them, hiding a wince. He got off easy this time and he knows it. He was dumb and thought he wouldn’t notice. He was wrong.

The sad thing is that it’s something he learned a long time ago through multiple bouts of blood, tears and broken bones. You cannot rely on or put your trust in others. It’s the only way for you not to get hurt.

So he continues on with no real destination. He could’ve stayed at school but it would have just raised more questions. He hated when they tried to pry. Just as much as the looks he got from the other kids, whispering snide comments on his height or his hair or his ratty clothes. He knew they would never truly understand. So he held it all in and walked, hoping someone or something would give him a sign that things would get better.

He stops under a shop awning to get a reprieve from the hot Arizona sun. He leans on the bricks, wiping his sweaty black hair out of his eyes. He watches the busy street, the cars and people heading here and there. The various shops bouldering the open air flea market across the street are buzzing with people. Maybe he could sneak in and grab a sandwich again. The nice lady who runs the arepas stand may turn a blind eye like she has before. His mind made up, he takes a step towards the flea market to be stopped in his tracks by the unique sound of music hitting his ears.

For some unknown reason, he turns and heads towards the music. It invades his senses, calling his soul forward. His dad never played music at home, only hateful talk radio. Said it reminded him of his good for nothing bitch of a mother. To be honest, Kylo doesn’t really remember her. She left when he was little. He totally gets why she left though. He just wishes she brought him with her. Anywhere had to be better than here.

He comes to a dingy little shop squished between the payday loan place and the barber shop. How has he missed it before when he has walked most of the streets on this side of town? Regardless, the music rings out the open door like a siren call. Kylo’s feet lead him closer. A small sign hangs overhead matching the peeling paint on the bay window. Corellia Records. The song changes to a more soulful tune, but still with as much power as the one before.

He stands at the threshold looking in cautiously. The space is small and dimly lit. Rickety shelves line the walls full of albums and other what he assumes is musical equipment. The back wall behind the glass counter has multiple instruments hanging. A portly greasy looking man in a stained gray t-shirt and an ill fitting fedora is standing by one of the tables, shuffling through a box while grumbling to himself.

Kylo shuffles in slowly, taking in more of the shop. The song ends as the man looks up at him. “What you need kid?” he says gruffly. Kylo immediately freezes and looks at his shoes, already able to feel this man’s agitation. “Um” he starts, suddenly wishing he had not entered. “Hey kid, it’s okay. What do you need?” the voice comes again. He can smell the man’s musty body odor as he takes a step towards him. He reactively flinches, pulling his book bag closer to himself.

He continues to stare at his shoes as the man sighs and shifts away from him, groaning as he sits on the stool behind the counter. It squeaks loudly under his weight. “You like music kid?” he asks, switching out the record on the record player and pulling a bag of Cheetos Puffs from below. The man opens the bag and shakes it towards him. The classic smell hits Kylo’s nose, making his mouth water almost instantly. “I can tell your hungry kid. Come and have some” he gruffs.

He eyes the man as he slowly walks up, placing his book bag on the floor and hopping up on the adjunct stool. The music is louder over here and seems to flow through him. He shuts his eyes as his body reacts to the emotion of the music. “You like Soundgarden kid? I feel this album is one of their best” the man says, placing the ripped open bag on the counter. Kylo grabs a couple and stuffs them in his mouth, moaning at the delicious taste of orange artificial cheese.

He takes a couple more before answering. “No, I don’t know who that is. I just, i don’t know… i just like it” he says in a small voice. The man hums to himself, taking a Cheeto for himself. “I feel ya there. Music has always spoken to me as well. Led me to some awesome places. Made me believe in the better of people.” Kylo looks up at him, strangely feeling a connection to this man. “I can tell by your eyes kid, you’re the same. My name’s Raf, what’s yours?”

Kylo sighs, rubbing a hand down his face. He doesn’t notice you, Vic and Vincent watching him with concerned eyes. He’s too lost in his memories.

Raf became the pseudo-father figure Kylo needed. So much more than his drunk of a father could ever dream of being. He offered Kylo a job at the shop, saying he couldn’t pay him much but it was there if he wanted it. Kylo took him on his offer instantly. From only a couple of interactions, he found out that Raf had once been in a band, playing guitar and bass. Left the band years ago over creative differences and used the royalties to open the shop. He always said he felt he was meant to give back and help inspire the next generation.

He taught Kylo how to appreciate the classics. The Beatles, Lynyrd Skynyrd, Patsy Cline, Queen, Chuck Berry, The Stones, The Eagles, ACDC, Led Zeppelin, Kiss, Tom Petty, The Cure, Stevie Ray Vaughan, Leadbelly. Showed him how musical influences never really change, they just meld and flow into the next generation. Just like the notes on the wind.

They figured out a schedule, with Kylo working the four days his father worked the late shift. He would race there after school, working the counter and unpacking boxes as Raf quizzed him on music history. He then started teaching Kylo how to play keyboard and then eventually guitar, saying learning both would instill the notes in faster. He was gruff but fair in his style of teaching but never cruel, allowing Kylo to make the necessary mistakes without judgment.

As the years went on, his home life got worse. There were multiple times he would come in battered and bruised. Raf would fix him up and then would let him stay in the back, popping open a cold Jarritos for him. He would give him a pained look before leaving Kylo to the boxes.

At fourteen, Raf recommended Kylo to play at the local Cantina’s open mic night. Said it would be good for him to try it out and to test out his skills in front of others. Kylo will never forget that night for as long as he lived. He stood backstage at Los Nopales, his body wracked with nerves. He remembers shaking and his sweaty hand almost staining the wooden neck of his borrowed guitar.

His name was called followed by some random applause. He took a shuddering breath and walked out under the spotlight, sitting on the stool and attempting to fix the microphone to his height. It squeaked and slid all the way down, hitting the guitar with a thud. A couple people laughed and shook their heads. He fixed it quickly, his cheeks burning hot. He looked up and saw Raf by the bar, his rotund self settled on a bar stool. He nodded at him with kind eyes, silently saying you can do this.

He nodded back and focused on the feeling of the guitar in his hands. The sound of bottles clicking and the low murmur from the crowd. It’s oddly centering. He shuts his eyes and lets himself be enveloped by the energy. He strummed the opening chords, letting himself get lost in the notes. Letting the music carry him away. His rendition of Wanted Dead or Alive by Bon Jovi brought the crowd to their feet. He left the stage with a smile on his face and his heart full to see Raf’s face full of pride among the others.

He played there off and on, often on weekends. He would sneak out after his Dad passed out or left for the bar, hopping on the bicycle Raf gave him. Raf was almost always there when he performed, a glass of cold beer in front of him and a big grin on his face. It was something that struck Kylo to the core. How good it felt to have someone believe in him.

But life decided to remind Kylo of his reality. One weekend afternoon when Kylo thought his old man was out cold, he left and headed to the shop. The hot dry air hit his face as he petaled down the street, excited for his shift.

He recently had gotten into a couple newer bands: Foo Fighters, Green Day and Linkin Park. Raf had laughed and rolled his eyes when he caught Kylo rocking out in the back to them, saying how much he could hear Depeche Mode and Rage against the Machine in their sounds. Regardless, he let Kylo order some along with some other bands and they were due to be delivered today.

Kylo parked his bike and chained it up, concerned with the yelling from inside the shop. The hairs on the back of his neck stood on end at the sound of a familiar voice. Please no, he prayed as he slowly walked out of the alley and to the front door. His heart sank in his chest to see his wreck of father cornering Raf by the counter, a threatening finger in his face. Raf stared down the irate man, his large face stoic. His eyes catch Kylo behind him, worry flashing in his dark brown irises.

“I knew you were coming here boy” his father snarled, turning from Raf to him. His feral anger emanated from him as he cracked his neck. “When I heard from Pedro that he saw you playing at the Cantina, I knew this is where you were sneaking off to you little shit” Kylo gulped and watched him in fear as he began to pace. It was a sign of bad things to come.

“C’mon man, he’s just a kid” Raf said, pushing himself off the counter. “DON’T TELL ME HOW TO RAISE MY BOY!” his father roars, knocking a box of vinyls to the floor. Kylo winced at the sound of them smashing to pieces. “You come here now” he snarled. Kylo took a breath, knowing he cannot get out of this. If he fights it’ll be ten times worse. He walked up to his father slowly, yelping when his hair was grabbed roughly. “You will never come back here” he voice getting louder “you will never play at that Cantina again and you will never see this fat fucking faggot ever again. Do you understand me!?”

As much as Kylo was scared, he couldn’t take his eyes off Raf. The pain in his eyes mirrored his. He suddenly knew why Raf had been so nice to him at the beginning. He had experienced this. He had his own abuser and was reliving it with Kylo.

It gave Kylo the strength to do what he needed to do. He pulled away, hissing through the pain of his hair being ripped out at the root. He shut his eyes and swung, colliding with his father’s jaw. A shot of pain shoots through his hand and up his arm. He groaned through ragged breaths, holding his arm to his chest. “Ky” a gruff voice said. The voice of his anchor through all this fucking bullshit.

He opened his eyes to see Raf’s eyes wet with tears and his father out cold on the floor. His arm throbbed hotly. “I’m calling the cops Ky, this needs to end” Raf said as he rounded the counter, heading for the back. It was then that Kylo noticed a silvery scar under the tattoo on Raf’s neck, so similar in shape and size to ones he had on his shoulder. “How’d you get out Raf?” Kylo grits out through the stabbing pain. “Music my boy, and I suggest you do the same,'' he responded softly. Kylo nodded as he watched Raf’s wide body disappear behind the wall.

The cops came quickly, escorting both Kylo and his father to the hospital. They set Kylo’s broken hand and arm and questioned him about what happened. He told them everything. They wrote down everything, giving him that pitied look. He hated it. They escorted him home so he could get his meager belongings and was thankfully sent to stay with Raf until the trial.

During that time he recommended Kylo to file for emancipation. He was plenty old enough to and met the qualifications with a job to support himself and had a place to stay. Why not, Raf had said, you’re more of a man now then your father ever was. It was a better option than getting sent to some shitty foster care setup until he aged out.

The courts took their time, but ultimately granted Kylo his emancipation and his father a prison sentence. He continued to play at open mics and work odd jobs along with the shop. He was happy for once. He was doing what he loved and had someone who believed in him.

The day after his sixteenth birthday, Raf told him of an opportunity of a lifetime. It was a job at Raf’s cousin’s restaurant in Los Angeles which came with a small studio apartment and a promise he could perform at every open mic night there. Raf knew it was Kylo’s dream to have his name in lights, to play his guitar for the masses. LA is where music and dreams are made and Kylo deserved to get his shot. He graciously accepted, crying into Raf’s shoulder. He helped Kylo prepare, all the while giving random snippets of advice and pointers on the music industry there.

On a hot April morning, Raf drove Kylo to the bus depot. They sat side by side on the bench until his bus was called. He told Kylo to wait a moment as he huffed and puffed back to his car. Kylo stood there confused with his small tattered duffle bag and second-hand suitcase. As Raf turned back, he saw a familiar leather case. He knew inside was Raf’s vintage Fender, the same one he learned to play on.

Kylo tried to decline but Raf refused to take no for an answer, saying it was his now and to make him proud with it. He hugged him and thanked him, promising he would do his fucking best. He hopped on the bus with teary eyes, and watched his guardian angel fade as the bus pulled away.

He never saw Raf again. He passed away two years later from heart failure. By that time Kylo was in deep working for First Order, working himself to the bone to show he was worthy. He only found out when he and the guys went for drinks at the old cantina he used to work at to celebrate their work on the StarKiller album.

Sergio, Raf’s nephew who was now the manager, let Kylo drink on the house after telling him the news. As much as the other guys tried to lift his spirits, he wallowed miserably in tequila and whiskey. Truly in mourning of his first true friend and mentor. The only one who knew the whole story at the time was Vic so he lifted a glass, toasting the man. Speaking the words Kylo held in his heart but couldn't put into words.

The memories fade as the weight of arms wrapped around his shoulders along with a pair of soft lips kissed his cheek. "Ky, baby what's wrong?" your soft voice says, full of concern. He shakes his head, finally feeling the wetness on his cheeks. "Just memories baby girl, don't worry about it" he says, turning in your arms and tucking his head in your shoulder. He feels your nails scratch at his scalp in an attempt to calm him. He knows you know the story. He told you everything. He takes a shuddering breath, attempting to compose himself.

"Kylo, I am so sorry man. I know how much that song means to you. We thought we would’ve been done by the time you got here…" Vic says coming up to them, his blue eyes full of emotion. Kylo looks up at him, giving him a warm smile through teary eyes. He knows Vic is telling the truth. He should’ve been more prepared than he was. It was known he was playing that song today, with it being one of the most requested songs on their social media poll. But like always, it hit him right in the heart and sucked him in.

"I know Vic" he says releasing you, wiping one of his red rimmed eyes with his hand. "It's on me, not you. But I can definitely say your performance was moving." Vic gives him a sad smile, finally taking a seat on the couch as you stand by his side. "How about we break for lunch and then you can do yours Ky. I can have Rae move up our order" you say, clicking a couple keys on the sound board.

His mind still swims with visions of the past: of Raf's happy tear filled eyes when he performed for the first time, of his gruff laugh and affinity for odd but comforting snacks, the last hug they shared at the bus depot. He looks over at his guitar sitting in its case next to Vincent on the couch. Obviously more worn but still the same. His only memento of the man who changed his life for the better.

"No, no I have to do this" he says, kissing the top of your head and turning to grab the guitar case. He sees you nod as you take a seat at the soundboard, your hands fidgeting with your headphones. "You want me to record it for you?” Vic asks, shaking his phone in his hand. Kylo nods as he heads into the studio. He hears Vic and Vincent follow him in. He looks over to see you blow him a kiss through the glass. He catches it and puts it on his chest with a soft smile.

He scans the studio room, deciding to sit on a tall metal stool that was discarded in the corner. He grabs it and moves it to the front of Vincent, setting himself atop it. He feels he’s right back in that dim music shop, learning his chords alongside Raf. He tunes his guitar, almost able to feel his spirit with him.

His fingers stop, his mind offering a silent thank you. He looks up and nods to you. He sees Vic and Vincent start recording as the record light goes on. "Hey all this is Kylo from the Knights of Ren, thanks for joining us for our newest segment of Classic Covers. I would like to thank each and every single one of you for your continued support of the band and we hope you like and subscribe to the channels below." He has to tell himself not to roll his eyes when Vic cracks a wry smile at him for once following the approved script.

"This next one is really special to me for a lot of reasons and I would like to dedicate it to Rafael Hernandez Corellia and his family. He meant more to me than I could ever express in words. So in memory of him, this is Fell on Black Days by Soundgarden." His calloused fingers hit the strings, starting into a song that lives in a part of his heart. His version is gritty and passionate, so much like Raf. He feels tears prick his eyes as reaches the end, barely noticing the growing group of people in the ajoining room. All amazed at the outpouring of emotion from him.

He strums the final notes, giving the camera a tearful smile and wave. Vic stops recording and immediately rushs over to give him a hug. He grunts as Vic’s body hits him, pushing the guitar into his gut. He ignores the discomfort and wraps an arm around him, holding his friend close.

A series of applause and cheers come through the speakers when they release. He looks up to see over half the staff and a couple other artists all giving him a standing ovation. You are standing in the middle with tears streaming down your face.

His eyes hold yours and can feel your love emanating from them. He can barely hear you whisper I love you over the crowd but it’s there. He lets the tears finally flow. He has honored Raf in the best way he knew how. He has you and his band mates and his friends. He has D'Kar. He has honestly and truly made his dreams come true.

soooo...yeah that happened. How ya all doing?! Lemme know what you think here or on A03 ❤️

You can find the whole collection here including the original story:

#adam driver #kylo ren au #knights of ren #star wars au #rockstar! kylo ren #tw alchoholism #kylo ren x reader #kylo fanfic #kylo x y/n #kylo ren #music au #adam douglas driver #kylo x reader #starwarsficnetwork #kylo ren imagine #tw abuse #tw child abuse #tw alcoholism #tw homophobia

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enigmatist17 · 2 months

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He loves when he's free.

It's for an irritatingly short amount of time, time that gets shorter and shorter as the war progresses. It's coined as a "security" measure, but the kindness in those words are as hollow as Coruscant, and the skies are held back from them.

So when he's able, usually giving his time to his men, Fox flies.

Feathers red as blood shine from the neon signs and lights below, the same ones hiding him from most eyes as the commander stretches his wings. Sometimes, he can see brothers from other companies flying with each other and enjoying their time away from the front lines, unaware of shrewd eyes that observe from higher above. Jealously isn't an emotion he deals with normally, and wishes his heart would stop yearning to join them, to forget for a moment that he could be just that little bit niave.

But he doesn't.

He always flies until dawn, milking out every last moment until he returns to his barracks, to his men that he has to protect.

One day, they'll all fly, fly away, or guard this planet he couldn't say, but they'll fly.

On this Fox promises, eyeing the Senate building with a faint smirk.

It'll start with dropping a certain ruler out of a window.

#star wars #clone wars #commander fox #winged!clones au #free form #wrote this while listening to music 🎶

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stpwrites · 9 months

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Art by Chris Yarborough.

Sometimes to save the world, you've got to punch a few dragons…

When the planet is being eaten by interdimensional parasites who literally tear holes in reality, what do you do? If you're Charlie Chase, you dive headfirst into an interdimensional adventure. Charlie knows her calling is a weighty one, but she trusts her mentor’s orders: Travel to another dimension, fix the tear, and get home to do it all over again.

But when she gets stuck on an alternate Earth, she has to turn to the most unexpected of allies: a younger, more eccentric, more infamous version of the brilliant mind that sent her on her mission. This version of Vera Baum is as much socialite as scientist, who seems to embrace the notion that curiosity killed the cat, in the way that means she's determined to use up all nine of her lives blasting through a kaleidoscope of genre-bending realities. Things are going to get a lot worse before they get better, especially when they’re pursued by reality-eating parasites and a biomechanical hound hellbent on killing Vera.

Ladyhoppers by Sarah Thérèse Pelletier and Scott James Taylor, a casually queer, genre-hopping, multiverse-spanning, madcap buddy comedy packed full of flaming zeppelins, coffee shop romances, car chases, dragon punching scientists, and more pirates than you can shake a multi-limbed death machine at, is available for order now!

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jessicas-pi · 5 months

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i've done it, folks. after literal months of searching and trying different songs, i've finally figured out the perfect background music for my poorly-drawn storyboard-style animated trailer for my medival au

now all that's left is to actually draw the dang thing

#star wars medieval au #i'll give you a clue #it's two words long #and both words are the same #and it's somehow both extravagantly orchestral and the perfect music to be playing while Shenanigans happen

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vintagevict0ria · 17 days

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could you do an adam driverxreader where but they’re in high school; reader would be soft spoken girl who is just trying to make it through high school — adam is an outspoken theatre kid? Thanksss<333

'You don't have to be shy'

a/n: HI ANON!! Thank you so much for this! I hope what I wrote exceeded your expectations!! This was fun to write as it kept me on my toes! I love this so much and please don't be shy to let me know if you want a part two(bc i would LOVE to continue this!!!) Again, thank you for your request!! pairing: HighschoolAU Adam driver x f!reader warnings: fluff, reader wears glasses, no proof read >.<

xoxo :3

"Okay you are dismissed! Also do not forget about the theater production tomo-"

Before the teacher could finish, you were out the door. High school was hard and you were just trying to get through these last few years. As you passed through the hallway, all of the beautiful girls who had boyfriends and huge groups of friends made your heart ache. You had to admit that you were jelous of them. You didn't have very many friends- or any at all. Being shy and soft spoken made it hard to talk to people- or just talking in general was difficult.

You had a free period after your last class. Your favorite spot was outside the theater. You loved hearing the faint noises of the kids inside talking, laughing, or singing. You admired their talent and their confidence. One performer in particular- Adam - was the star in every show. His black hair and brown eyes had every girl staring at him, practically on their knees. It surprised you how he didnt have a girlfriend or atleast not that you knew of. The sudden singing caught you off guard from inside the theater. Was it Adam? The first production of the year was tonight so they had been practicing a LOT. The posters promoting the production were everywhere- literally everywhere. It was all people were talking about. So, you got tickets to opening night.

Taking your seat that night, all you could do was try to relax and not crush the stems of the flower bouquet that you were holding- that was for Adam. The girl next to you turned to face you “Are those flowers for one of the girls in the show?” You couldn't reply with ‘no it's for Adam!’ so lying was the best choice. “Yes.” The other girl laughed. Cuffing her hand around her mouth, she leaned to your ear; “I got mine for Adam- i'm his secret admirer” You immediately regret your decision of getting flowers for Adam. He would have hundreds by the end of the week and not have a care in the world for who got what. Her bouquet was so extravagant and colorful compared to yours. Your seat was close to the front and when the stage lights were on, the actors on the stage would be able to see your face.The show had started- Adam, the main character was on stage most of the time and when he would have monologes, he would look into the crowd. Specifically, looking at you. Was it on purpose? Surely not.

After the actors took their bows and the show came to an end, the audience exited the theater and congregated outside waiting for the cast to greet them. The crowd had grouped around the side stage door-where the cast and crew would come out from. You had been pushed to the back so you couldn't see what was going on but when you heard loud shouts and screeches, you knew Adam and come out. Faint "you did so good! from the girls and "thank yous" from adam could be heard. You hoped to gift Adam his flowers but there was so many girls, and oh so many flowers, there was no use. As you started to walk towards the door you heard someone call your name.

"Leaving without saying hello? Didn't your parents teach you manners?" Turning around, you saw Adam walking towards you. "Oh im sorry- I thought you were busy and I-" you looked down at your flowers, then at the large handful adam had already collected. "Nevermind, um well-good job i'll see you tomorrow." Adam couldn't get a response out in time because you had already left the building. God you were so embarrassing. You hated high school and wanted to be in college so bad. Having no romantic experience made it even worse. A shy, timid, unromantic, girl...could it get worse?

You had one singular class with Adam the next day. He sat behind you but never realized how weird this would be until the day after you and him had the encounter after the show. After taking your seat- not even a minute later- you felt a tap on your shoulder, turning around you were greeted by Adams glowing brown eyes looking at you. "What are you doing after school tonday? Do you want to go grab some food? I have time before I have to be back for the show." His elbows where on the table and he placed his chin in the palm of his hands, smiling at you. Blushing- you had no choice but to say yes."Perfect, meet at my car and we'll go from there! Oh also here's my number." He slid you a piece of paper with his number on it. You put it in your bag to save for later. You couldn't focus for the rest of the day and the only think(or person) in your mind was Adam.

Finally, the day had come to and end. Once the bell rang you leaped up from your chair and headed towards the parking lot. Adam was leaning up against his black Hyundai Tucson. He was facing away from you and it wasn't until you cleared your throat that he turned around. His black locks wirled as the wind blew. His face immediately lit up as he saw you. "Hey." He shifted against his car so he was still leaning but he was fully facing you. "hi" This was your first date and you weren't really sure how this works. "Hear, let me get the door for you." He walked over to the passenger side door, opening it. You stepped in. Adam took your bag and placed in the back seat. Adam soon followed with getting in and eventually pulled out of the parking lot. "Any place in particular you want to go?" His eyes were on the road. "There's a coffee shop, its really good and has like sandwiches and stuff.." your voice died down as you finished your sentence. "Sounds good!" Adam smiled, glancing over at you for just a second before looking back to the road. His phone was connected to aux and was playing a mix of rock and musical theater music. Just a few minutes later, you reached the coffee shop. Adam wasted no time in exiting the car and going over to open the door for you. The wind continued to blow and adams hair was dancing around and across his face. When entering the cafe, you found a table and your musically talented date pulled your chair out for you. "How was your day, beautiful?" beautiful. His words shot through your core, causing your eyes to widen and for your face to become red. "oh um it was...Good." you stuttered over you words as you delivered your eyes away from his. Of course, Adam and his charm, couldn't help but laugh. "You know, you don't have to be shy."

"Im not!"

"Are too."

'Am not"

"whatever you say." Adam pushed back his hair and as he spoke

After ordering food and drinks and having a short conversation, you both left the cafe. As you walked out, Adam grabbed your hand and you spun around to face him. Lifting an eyebrow at him, "can i help you?" Adam didn't answer. that was with words that is. He pulled you into him and placed a kiss on your red tinted lips. Your face soon turned the same shade as the roses planted outside the cafe. "sorry" he whispered as he slowly pulled away from you. "here, you have some danish crumbs on you" Adam swiped his thumb agaist the corner of you mouth, causing a smile to form across your face. Adam smiled back, guiding you to the passenger door and letting you in.

The gentleman that he was, drove you back to your place and walked you to yout front door. "Will i see you tonight? At the show?" he tilted his head as he spoke. "I don't have a ticket, sorry." Adam suddenly started fiddling with his pockets and pulled out three tickets. One for each of the remaining shows. "I have some extras. You should come. Id love to see you again." you took the tickets from him and pulled them to your chest. "I'll be there., promise" Adam stepped closer to you, one hand on your left cheek, the other on your waist. He kissed you. Again. A euphoric feeling washed over your body. You face wass hot as his thumb brushed your face. He pulled away, smiling ear to hear. He mouthed 'bye' as he walked away to his car. As he pulled off, he yelled something from his car,

"Thou art wise as thou art beautiful!"

You laughed as he drove off. You didn't know what that meant or what that line was from but, deep in your heart, you knew that everything would be just fine....

_________________________

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#plz reblog #fluff #adam driver x reader #adam driver fluff #adam driver #adam driver smut #highschool au #musical theatre #theater #writeblr #writers on tumblr #star wars #kylo ren #x reader #booklr #adam driver angst #smut #angst

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m-elayna · 9 months

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This was posted as a picture of Carrie Fisher, and I do think it is, but dang! Doesn't it look like the oldest Partridge daughter singing? (Dating myself, heh.) Musical Star Wars AU anyone?

#carrie fisher #laurie partridge #musical au #Star wars bunny

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kryzobi-wan · 4 months

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The Sound of Mandalore

Chapter 13/20: Something Good

Read on AO3

<< Chapter 12

Satine stood out on her private terrace, breathing in the stillness of the night. It had been quiet recently. She was thankful for that. The cityscape loomed before her, twinkling in the way she loved to watch.

Down below, in the palace gardens, the Jedi meandered through rows of flowers and plants, stopping every so often to look closer at one. He was wearing a much different outfit than he usually wore, and Satine wondered how she hadn’t noticed before. Gone were his robes and flowing sleeves. Instead, he wore a dark blue tunic and trousers, along with a cape slung over his shoulders.

Now she was certain he hadn’t been wearing this before. Or if he was, it was underneath his signature outer robe. He looked nice. He looked—Mandalorian.

While Satine puzzled over this development with a pensive look on her face, another figure joined her on the balcony.

“There you are,” Tal Merrik spoke with a toothy smile, resting his elbows on the railing next to her. She could feel the edges of his clothes brush against her upper arm, causing a shiver to creep up her spine.

He followed her line of sight down to the garden and immediately stiffened, his smile almost imperceptibly shifting into something less sincere. “I was hoping we might discuss some changes to our public policy, before I head back to Kalevala.”

Satine made no effort to shift her gaze away from Obi-Wan, so lost in thought she was.

“I’m afraid I’m not in the right state to be discussing politics right now, Senator, you’ll have to forgive me,” she answered.

Merrik nodded, standing back up to his full height and stepping closer, his body turned to face the Duchess.

“That’s alright, Satine. We can discuss… other things instead, if you’d prefer.”

As he spoke, he lifted his hand and brushed his fingertips against her arm, causing her to immediately jolt away. He had at least accomplished one thing: her focus had finally been torn away from Kenobi.

She shot him a nasty glare and exclaimed, “Senator Merrik!”

Despite her negative reaction, he only drew nearer, causing Satine to back away. Her gaze flicked back down to Obi-Wan. He had taken a seat on a bench that she knew offered a wonderful view of the city. What she wouldn’t do to be down there with him instead of up here.

Just when she was about to call on her guards, the tapping of metal on transparisteel announced someone else’s arrival, and both Merrik and Satine turned to see Anakin Skywalker standing in the doorway with his arms crossed.

“Everything alright, Duchess?” he asked, his piercing gaze fixed on Merrik.

Satine shot him a grateful look and responded, “Yes, the Senator was just leaving. He unfortunately must return to Kalevala tonight on urgent business.”

Merrik’s mouth opened and closed, unable to formulate an intelligent response. It seemed not even the Senator was brave enough to challenge one of the most powerful Jedi in existence. At least, he was smart enough not to try.

Anakin stepped closer, making his height advantage quite clear over Merrik. “You’d best be on your way then, Senator,” he said, the threat evident in his voice.

Merrik knew when he was beat. He cleared his throat, looking between the two of them before bowing to Satine and leaving through the open doorway at once.

Once he had gone, Satine sighed in relief. “You have the best timing, Knight Skywalker,” she spoke, leaning back against the railing.

“I sensed I might be needed out here,” he explained with a shrug.

She’d only met the newly knighted Jedi once, the night of the ball, but already she felt a kinship with the man. There were qualities in him that she recognized, little idiosyncrasies that reminded her of the connection he shared with another Jedi she knew.

“I suppose I have you to thank for bringing Obi-Wan back,” she said, straightening into her Duchess persona now that she’d recovered from the uncomfortable situation with Merrik.

Anakin raised his hands and chuckled a bit. “Hey, I’m just the pilot, he hasn’t said anything to me about what happened.”

Satine raised her eyebrows at that. Obi-Wan really kept to himself, didn’t he, if not even his former Padawan knew what was going on in that ridiculous brain of his. She sighed.

“So, there’s really nothing going on between you and the Senator?” Anakin asked suddenly, and Satine turned to give him an incredulous look.

“Merrik? Heavens, no.”

The Knight gave a satisfied nod. “Good. You’re much too independent, I can tell. You need someone that understands that.”

Skywalker would know all about that, wouldn’t he, if what she suspected about the man and that Senator Amidala was true.

She smiled softly. “Yes, I suppose you’re right.”

They settled back into silence for a few moments, listening to the distant hum of traffic. Anakin’s eyes drifted out over the garden, and Satine’s followed. They both knew who they were looking for.

He was still there, sitting peacefully among the topiaries and fountains, the perfect picture of contentment.

Anakin spoke again, his voice serious, but warm. “Somewhere out there, I think there’s a man like that for you. A man who…” he paused, a wide grin spreading across his face. “A man who will never be on the Jedi Council,” he finished with a laugh.

Satine’s eyes snapped back to Anakin’s as if to judge if he were joking or not. When she saw nothing but complete sincerity and delight, her disbelieving gaze returned to the Jedi below. Her heart was aflutter, and this time she didn’t even try to suppress the hopeful smile that lit up her face.

Anakin gave a knowing look, his smile shifting into one of quiet contentment. “I knew it,” he said in a whisper, whether to himself or to her, she couldn’t say. “I’ll leave you to it, then.” He bowed, an extra bounce in his step as he began to inch his way out the door. “Tell Obi-Wan that if he ever needs anything, just give me a call.”

Before Satine could even find the words to properly thank him, he was gone.

-.-.-

The garden really was a nice escape from the palace. If Obi-Wan was being honest, he hadn’t even considered that Tal Merrik might still be a guest in Sundari when he returned. It made for a less than ideal environment for what he wanted to say to Satine, the words for which he had been rehearsing in his head the entire ride over here.

As he sat on a bench under a lovely flourishing tree, he considered whether he had avoided a big mistake by not telling her how he felt after all. Perhaps it was not meant to be. Force, he wished Qui-Gon had a few wise words for him now. It made so much more sense when he explained everything. Now he was stuck wondering if he’d misinterpreted the Force’s calling.

He was moments away from going to find Anakin when a melodic voice called out, “Hello there,” from behind him. He turned to see Satine standing beneath the tree with a kind smile on her face. “I hoped I might find you here,” she said.

Obi-Wan stood from the bench at once, ever the gentleman. “Did you need something, Duchess?”

“No, no not at all,” Satine waved him off. “Do you mind if I sit?” she asked, nodding to the bench.

The Jedi Master shook his head, gesturing for her to take a seat. Once she was seated, he sat down beside her and waited for her to speak.

“I… wanted to ask you,” Satine began, nervously running a hand through her hair. “Why did you really go back to the Jedi Temple? The truth, this time. And—and why did you return?”

Obi-Wan fixed his gaze on some point far, far away.

“I—I was given this mission by the Council, and I came back to fulfill it,” he explained simply, jaw set firm.

“Yes, you Jedi never do anything by halves,” Satine mused. “Is that all?”

“I did miss the children,” he added after a moment.

Satine’s eyes rested on his face now, watching every imperceptible movement for some sign of what was going on in his deeply complicated mind.

“Only the children?”

Obi-Wan turned suddenly, and she saw a flash of cautious hope behind his eyes as he looked seriously at her. “Why do you ask, Satine?”

The silver-tongued Jedi had turned her own question back on her, and she found herself ill-prepared with a response. Unable to sit still, she stood and began to pace beneath the tree. “Oh, I was only hoping that you’d—perhaps you might—”

“Yes?” His patient voice cut through her ramblings, drawing her back to him. At some point he had stood from his spot and come closer, and now his nearness was beginning to do funny things to her brain.

“Well, nothing was the same when you were away… and it will be all wrong again if you leave… I was just hoping—" Obi-Wan’s gaze met hers, and for the life of her she couldn’t tell what he was thinking. If he would just show some emotion, it would help her immensely. When his eyes flitted away from hers, her heart sank. Maybe it wasn’t as easy as Anakin had made it sound. “Unless, I understand, you are needed back on Coruscant. The Republic needs its General, you have Anakin… I understand if you can’t—the Jedi Council—"

“There won’t be a Jedi Council,” Obi-Wan broke in, in a tone that was so matter of fact that Satine was sure she had heard wrong. “Not for me.”

“No Council? I don’t—"

“Well, I’m preparing to leave the Order, you see.”

The silence that followed, paired with the small half-smile that had broken across his face, nearly swallowed her whole.

“You…” she could barely stand to hope, “You are?” Her eyes desperately searched his, but she found nothing but truth in them.

“Yes,” he said, his soft gaze turning to glance around at their surroundings. He plucked a small white bloom off a low hanging branch of the tree, twirling it between his fingers. “Well, you can’t exactly… be a Jedi,” he mused, “when you’re madly in love with someone…” The space between them grew ever smaller, and he lifted her hand into his own. “Can you?”

Satine shook her head slowly, feeling as if she were in a dream. Surely this couldn’t be happening. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes.

Obi-Wan leaned in closer, brushing his fingers gently over her chin and up her cheekbone. Tilting his head forward, he rested his forehead against hers, imploring eyes meeting hers from beneath thick eyelashes.

His plea came as a desperate whisper against her lips. “Say the word, Satine.”

She closed her eyes and brought her hand up to cover the one that now cupped her cheek. Her other hand clutched tightly to his, trapped between their beating hearts. One beat. Two beats.

“Stay,” she breathed, the words leaving her lips with a great wave of relief the way she wished they had all those years ago.

And with that, he drew her into a kiss, dropping her hand so he could press her closer to him. His arm wrapped around her lower back, fingers grazing over the fine fabric of her dress, soft and silky beneath his fingertips. Satine rested her hand on his jaw, and she smiled into the kiss at the sensation of his beard under her thumb.

Okay, so maybe she wasn’t as opposed as she’d initially thought to the beard.

When they broke apart, Obi-Wan smiled softly and pulled her close, wrapping her in an embrace. She held him tight, and he nuzzled into her hair. It smelled of lilies, just like he remembered.

Her fingers tangled in the short hair at the back of his neck where once there had been a Padawan braid. So much had changed in the time they’d been apart. But at the same time, so little. Contentment radiated off him, and he didn’t seem likely to let go any time soon.

“Master Yoda always said, when the Force closes a hatch, it opens a viewport,” Obi-Wan mumbled into her shoulder.

Satine pulled him back, her hands framing his bearded face as she smiled up at him fondly. “What else does Master Yoda say?” she asked, amusement lacing her voice.

Despite her teasing tone, he answered back honestly. “He says you must always follow the will of the Force.”

Satine studied his face again. “Is that why you came back? To find the will of the Force?” Obi-Wan nodded, his hands resting on her elbows now to keep her close to him. “And have you found it, Master Jedi?” The softness of her voice sent a pang through his chest.

“I think I have,” he said, “I know I have.”

Tears pooled in Satine’s eyes. Her heart felt as light as a feather, the weight of some past loss now at last lifted. She was free—they both were. Free to say the things they had always wanted to, to speak aloud the words they’d only ever whispered under the cover of night, far away from Qui-Gon’s listening ears.

“I love you, my dear Obi-Wan,” she spoke, pulling him down to her. He bowed his head, allowing her to pepper him with kisses all the way from his jaw, to his cheeks, and up to his forehead.

As far as he was concerned, this was eternal bliss. As she showered him with affection, he leaned into her touch and wondered aloud, “What did I do to deserve this?”

He had been through so much. From a young age, he had seen and experienced things that most children were carefully sheltered from. He had been sent to help, of course—that was his purpose in life—but that didn’t take away the trauma that Obi-Wan was now realizing he had suffered. He would always be grateful for his time with the Jedi, would always look back on it with fondness, but he could no longer say everything they did was inscrutable. This war was enough proof of that.

And Satine. How much had she gone through, being forced away from her home planet by a deadly Civil War? Being chased by bounty hunters and terrorists, only to be thrust into rule at such a young age upon her return? She led an unprecedented Council of Neutral Systems in the heat of a Galactic War the likes of which had never been seen before, all while dealing with dissenters on her own planet as well.

They had both faced impossible circumstances, yet their paths had somehow led them here. And Obi-Wan would thank the Force every day for that beautiful, amazing, unbelievable fact.

Her thoughts seemed to be along the same lines as his. She pressed her head into the crook of his neck, arms tightly wrapped around his shoulders as she basked in the love she felt practically radiating off him.

“We were barely more than children when we met, Obi,” she whispered, entranced by the comforting circles he traced up and down her back.

He smiled, leaning back to listen to her properly. She always liked that, how he truly listened when she talked, possessing a genuine interest in what she had to say. His undivided attention made her feel like nothing else mattered but the two of them, all the rest of the world melting away.

She continued. “Somehow, even through the terror and the misery, something must have gone right, I suppose. For us to end up here together.” Grabbing her hands, he brought them to his lips. “And for you to love me as you do, even if perhaps you shouldn’t,” she finished with a fluttering laugh.

Obi-Wan beamed at her.

“Do you know when I first started loving you?” he asked, looking more free than he ever had before. She awaited his answer with a smile. “That time in the cave when you refused to wear shoes at night and got stung on your foot while you were asleep.”

The Jedi—her Jedi—broke into giggles as he recalled the occasion, his cheeks turning pink beneath that auburn beard of his.

“What?” she exclaimed, laughing with him.

“I had to carry you all the way up the mountain on my back the next day,” he finished, barely able to get the words out. It certainly hadn’t been one of her finer moments, she remembered. She hated admitting when he was right, and this was one of those few times.

“I knew the first time you blew up at me for complaining about the lack of amenities on one of those forsaken planets.” She smiled at the memory fondly. She had been so young back then. Relatively naïve. When they were together, it didn’t take long to push each other to their limits. That was, after all, part of the fun. He didn’t see her as some princess, walking on eggshells around her as others did. He made his opinions known, just as she did in return.

How, how, had they loved each other for so long, and done nothing about it?

“Oh, my dear, I’ve always loved you,” Obi-Wan said, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face with the gentlest of touches. His eyes shimmered in the dim glow of the city.

Satine smiled up at him and made her own vow. “And I always will.”

Draping her arms around his neck, she brought her lips to his once more, kissing him deeply.

“Obi-Wan,” she whispered into the kiss, “Is there anyone I need to go to to ask permission to marry you? The Jedi Council?”

Obi-Wan pulled back to look into her eyes in surprise and with complete, unrepentant joy.

“Darling, the Council couldn’t stop me from marrying you if they tried,” he said with a grin. “Though perhaps we should ask—”

“The children?” she finished.

He nodded.

“And particularly Korkie,” he said, a knowing—yet content—look in his eye. “I should think he’d like a say in his parents finally tying the knot.”

Satine was momentarily speechless. “You know,” she stated, the slight waver in her voice betraying her nervousness that this secret had evidently come out.

“I had an inkling,” Obi-Wan explained. “But don’t you worry, my dear. There will be plenty of time to discuss later. For now, I’m just so happy, nothing could ever take away from that. And he’s truly a remarkable young man. I am so proud of you both.”

She wrapped her arms around him again, words caught behind a lump in her throat as she adjusted to this new reality where there were no more secrets between them. It was equal parts relieving and guilt-inducing.

“He doesn’t know,” she admitted with a slight frown.

“Then we’ll tell him together,” Obi-Wan promised, his eyes meeting hers with sincerity and an overabundance of love. How he was able to be so gracious to her, she didn’t know. But she was thankful for this, for them.

This was it. The Force had led them to this moment, and Obi-Wan knew in his very soul that it was the right path for him. His heart felt like it might burst with happiness, and Satine—he knew—felt the same.

The night grew cold, and the palace lights slowly flickered out, but they remained there like that for some time, wrapped in each other’s loving embrace.

-.-.-

Anakin watched from the balcony, a smirk plastered on his face as he observed the couple down below in the garden.

His eyebrows lifted, impressed by what he saw. “Not bad, old man,” he muttered, watching as the figures engaged in a passionate kiss.

Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out his comm device and flicked it on, dialing the frequency he knew best. It wasn’t long before she picked up.

“Padmé,” he spoke into the comm. “You owe me 20 credits.”

-.-.-

#obitine #obitine fanfic #my fanfiction #obi-wan kenobi #satine kryze #korkie kryze #sound of music au #the sound of mandalore #mandalore #star wars #star wars fanfic #star wars: tcw #tcw fanfic #tal merrik #chapter 13 #anakin skywalker

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sulevinen · 1 year

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modern au time

cody knows how to play the piano, and little rex loves the sound of it. especially when he’s younger and still navigating through his sensory likes and dislikes, the sound of cody’s playing calms him.

rex really loves music. it’s soothing, and it looks pretty, so it’s an auditory, visual and vocal stim all at the same time: and it keeps him happy. whenever all else fails, and rex cannot calm down or sleep, cody sits in front of the piano and starts playing. within minutes rex is babbling happily along with the tune in cody’s lap, or laying on the floor with his dinosaur blanket, dozing off.

as rex grows older, and cody gets busier with life, rex starts to learn the piano all by himself. he presses all the buttons and listens to the pitches until he’s able to recreate the order of the notes of his favorite song cody used to play for him all the time. soon enough he plays all kinds of music from classical pieces to songs he’s heard from the radio.

rex’s singing isn’t too bad but fox insists that he is better: so together they sit by the piano as rex plays and fox sings, and discreetly cody takes a picture for the photo album. the golden strings aren’t in the picture, but rex can still imagine them twirl around them to the melody of the song.

#rex has perfect pitch and also synesthesia #so he can see sounds #mostly music i think but all other kinds of sounds #i may elaborate on how he sees other peoples voices too #star wars #sw #captain rex #ct 7567 #commander cody #cc 2224 #commander fox #cc 1010 #modern au #autistic captain rex #autistic commander fox

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direwolfrules · 1 year

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Okay, so Star Wars Rebels but Ezra’s got a weird Force ability that makes him see things (like people’s true thoughts) as a musical. Like in Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist, or like how Rebecca makes sense of the world in Crazy Ex-Girlfriend, but most like Zoey’s Extraordinary Playlist.

So Ezra just thinks this is normal. He learned pretty early on not to mention the people singing thing, but he just assumed that it was some sort of social norm that he missed as a small child. “Wear clothes, eat with utensils, don’t mention the singing”. Maybe at some point Kanan finds out about it and tells him, “I have no clue what this is but Sabine would probably call it Jetii Osik, also am I a good singer according to the Force?”

(He is, but that’s not the point Kanan, focus! Your Padawan is apparently able to always tell what people are thinking/feeling through the power of music)

Anyway, song and scene suggestions (as if I’ll ever write this). The only thing I really have so far is a running gag where Hera’s almost always singing “Danger Zone” from the cockpit and Chopper’s beeping out the guitar solo. Listen, it matches the vibes okay?

And going back to my Mandalorian Space Abba nonsense either Bo-Katan or Sabine sing “Me and I” when they’re angsty, though I’m leaning towards Bo-Katan. And Ezra like, doesn’t know what to say? What can he say? “Hey, sorry about that inner struggle of yours. How do I know about that? The magical energy field binding the universe together told me in the form of a musical number”.

Vader absolutely sings Back in Black because the Force recognizes the Skywalker Drama TM. Please just picture Vader speak-singing it as he menacingly approaches, possibly while chopping through Rebel forces.

There’s no way for Ezra to hear this but Maul and Obi-Wan would sing part of “The Confrontation” from Le Mis. Because that’s their vibe.

And truth is this all an elaborate round about way to get Fenn Rau to sing “How We Operate”.

Half of these probably don’t make sense but that’s because I’m bad at this particular song to character matching thing.

#star wars #star wars rebels #star wars au #bo katan kryze #kanan jarrus #hera syndulla #ezra bridger #sabine wren #fenn rau #chopper #c1 10p #sw vader #darth vader #darth maul #obi wan kenobi #musical au

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srorgana1 · 19 days

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Angel Eyes

Rock Star Kylo Ren x Reader/Knights of Ren

TW: Rough Sex, Spanking, Dirty Talk, "cheating", Roleplay

A spicy one shot from the Into the Reverb Universe in which Kylo and Y/N change it up on a special day.

I hope you all enjoy ❤️

A huge thanks to my beautiful friend and Beta @mrs-zimmerman ❤️ i love you girlfriend

Kylo grunts as he moves the sander across the wood, careful not to overwork the edges and sides he had just finished. He squints, looking for imperfections in the wood as the afternoon sunshine pours in through the floor to ceiling windows. He stands and stretches his back, giving his aching muscles a reprieve from being hunched over for so long.

He lets out a groan as he raises his arms above his head, further relieving the pressure. They flex and loosen up below his thin company t-shirt. He personally relishes in the burn of a hard day's work, knowing that he will then be rewarded with more pronounced muscles that are quite pleasing to the eye.

Maybe she will like them, he thinks as he fixes his safety glasses. They have been in each other's orbit since the start of the project, a full kitchen reno. He and his company are the top in LA and he is well compensated for his talent and skill as a craftsman. He didn't expect anything different when he came to the in-home consultation, but he was so very wrong when they were disturbed by the most beautiful woman he has ever seen strolling in in nothing but a very sensual sports bra and yoga pants set.

He remembers having to keep his jealousy in check when this perfect female specimen strolled over and kissed that arrogant asshole who he had been talking to for the last hour. But then she looked at him and he knew instantly she wanted him. He could see it in her eyes, how they darkened as they skipped along his muscles and tattoos.

It's been almost two months since then and they are still playing this game. He still catches her at times looking at him, lust clouding her gaze. He chuckles lowly as he turns the sander off. He knows she likes what she sees, that's for sure.

She wants him, he knows it but he has to play this right. He has to let that sweet piece of ass come to him. He can be patient. It’ll be ten times sweeter when she does, desperate for what he can give her. When she does, oh when she does he will defile her so bad and fuck her so hard and deep she will feel him a month from now. Honestly he wouldn’t even care or stop if her husband showed up. He would smile like a madman and go harder just to show him who the real man is around here.

Fuck he's hard now and hot. How did it get so fucking hot in here? He can feel the sweat dripping off him, some of it fogging up his safety glasses. He stands and wipes his face with his shirt. It's soaked through. Damn, must have been working much harder than he thought, totally distracted by his dirty fantasy.

He makes an impulsive decision and removes it, sighing in relief as the air hits his bare skin. He removes his safety glasses and puts them up on his head for safe keeping as he goes to find a towel in the guest bathroom he has been allowed to use. He steps back out when he catches the sound of the front door closing and the sound of small steps heading towards him.

He holds back a groan as her perfume begins to float in the air, an alluring mix of floral, patchouli and vanilla. He doesn’t know the brand nor does he care, but he does know he wants to find all those secret spots that would taste like that. He shivers at the thought as he sees her enter the large main living space.

She is distracted by her phone and bags, unaware of his company. He stares and waits for her to acknowledge him. “Oh I didn’t know you were here” her surprised voice says behind him. He can literally feel her eyes on him, appraising his bare upper body. He fights off another shiver, setting a bored and unamused expression on his face before he turns to face her.

She looks like temptation incarnate. Her curvy but trim figure is perfectly accentuated by her black sheath dress with cropped leather jacket. He wants to take a bite out of those juicy curves and make her squirm and squeal. Her hair is perfectly styled as always in a sleek ponytail, calling him to grab it tight and tug at it as he sucks bruises into her skin.

But it's her eyes, her angelic eyes are his undoing. They ensnare him in their doe like expressive nature, calling him to fall into them and never resurface. Suddenly all he wants is to see how they would look when they are all scrunched up and teary from overwhelming pleasure he and only he can give her.

Even so, he cannot show weakness. If he does, she will know she has him by the balls. He needs to show her he is in charge. He stares her down as her eyes unabashedly take him in, all heavy muscle and tattooed lines. “My truck was outside '' he says in an unamused voice, crossing his arms across his chest.

She takes a step forward, kicking off her beaded sandals and continues her unabashed appraisal of him. “Is that so? Well glad I'm getting my money's worth” she croons out, placing her bags onto the kitchen island. Her eyes never leave him as she further approaches him, shifting out of her jacket and exposing more skin.

He can see that lust swirling in her eyes once more as a mischievous smirk crosses her face. “That's quite a situation you got there Mr. Ren” she says slyly, rounding the island towards him. He knows she can see his erection trapped in his jeans and it pulses and throbs at her attention.

She slinks closer, only an arms length away. “Looks like you could use some help” she says, her eyes heavy as her perfectly manicured hand lightly grazes his thigh, so dangerously close. He tries and fails to hold back a groan, his hips shifting towards her touch.

“Careful sweetheart” he growls, his fingers itching to grab her and feel her at long last. She chuckles, her fingers now tracing his length up and down along his thigh “No I don't think I will. You see, I have needs that often are not met by my husband. Certain preferences you can say. But you Mr Ren, look like you could be a very capable and viable option.”

He meets her eyes, a vicious smile splitting his face. “Well sweetheart, if that's what you are needing, I am willing to provide that service. I am nothing but all encompassing” he says lowly, loving how her thighs squeeze together tightly at his response.

She nods, lightly gripping him through his jeans. He groans again, his hips canting lightly towards her touch. He feels like a caged tiger, just waiting for the time to strike. Just waiting for her to give the go ahead, so he can grab a handful of that pert little ass and let her feel what she does to him.

His patience with her wanes when she starts speaking again. “Hmm I love the power play. I fucking love it when a man takes whats his but also when he is putty in my hand” she says huskally, continuing to pet him with increasingly needy strokes.

He is obscenely hard and can feel his boxers becoming more and more soaked. He never in a million years would have guessed they have such similar wants and needs. He loves it when a woman brings him to his fucking knees just as much as fucking them like the whores they are. God above, he cannot wait to fucking ruin her.

She smiles and takes his hand, leading him over to the large L shaped couch. He swallows thickly as he watches her lower herself to her knees, her short black fingernails tracing his thighs muscles. She looks up at him, keeping eye contact as she slowly takes his zipper down.

He holds back a shudder as he assists her by shimmying his hips to allow his jeans to shift down as she pulls his cock out of his boxers. “Fuck I knew you would be big” she groans, her small hand exploring and giving some experimental pumps. Fucking hell.

“Fucking suck my cock, you little slut” he growls, his inked up hand gripping her hair and pulling her closer. She legit moans at his words as she starts peppering his groin and the length of his cock with teasing kisses. She works her way down to his glans, licking it lightly with her tongue.

He moans outright, overwhelmed by the feeling of her hot little mouth on him. He struggles to keep his eyes open when she turns her attention to the tip, teasing him as her hands explore his balls, thighs and ass. She hums against him, tightening her lips around him as she squeezes a handful of his ass.

“Fuck” he groans, tugging at her hair. She lets out a whine around him, her tongue now doing tight little circular movements focusing every couple turns to dip into his slit. Her hand migrates down again, lightly stroking that special spot behind his balls. He jolts, his pleasure doubling as he rocks his hips harder “so fucking good. Fuck.”

He feels her chuckle around his cock, taking a bit more of him in. He must say her technique is masterful, her mouth and hand working in tandem. She traces the underside vein with her tongue as she bobs up and down, her perfectly pink lips stretched around him. He knows he is probably too big for her to take it all. There have only been a few who have but damn it, he wants to test her limits and if nothing else hear her fucking gag.

He lets out a growl and pulls her all the way down, hitting the back of her throat. She chokes almost instantly and struggles to keep it together. He legit almost comes as he watches her blink back tears as she opens her jaw more, allowing more space for him to do whatever the fuck he wants to do to her. His hips twitch with excitement as he begins to rock into her wet willing mouth.

“Fucking take it” he growls, unable to hold his tongue any longer. “You’re such a whore, letting me fuck your face like this. That feel good sweetheart? Does my cock feel and taste better than that worthless microdick that husband of yours is packing? What would he think if he caught you like this, on your knees with my fat cock stuffed down your throat?”

She moans loudly around him, making the head of his cock to rub against the roof of her mouth. He shuts his eyes in bliss, reveling in the feeling of her. He could blissfully come like this but he needs to focus on his original goal: to have all of her in every way.

He pulls out quickly, admiring the string of spit still connecting his cock to her lips. Her eyes are wide and big as she licks her swollen lips, panting lightly. He pulls her up, turning her around quickly and bending her over the armrest. He takes no time, flipping the skirt of her dress over her hips and ripping her panties down to her ankles.

He growls at the sight of her wet pink folds and her perfect ass as he glides his hands over her curves. His hands finally able to feel that soft skin that has been haunting his dreams since taking this job. She responds beautifully, wiggling in his hold and exposing herself more to him while whining his name.

“What's that? You want this?” he teases, rubbing his cock against her wet folds. He hears her moan out a yes as he smacks her ass hard, catching her by surprise. She jolts and he legit sees her pussy clench. “Fuck” she keens, canting her hips back for more.

“Fuck is right” he growls again, smacking her ass again “gonna smack that cute little ass red and then fuck you so hard you won’t know which way is up.” He lands another, watching the physical representation of his lust bloom upon her skin. She seems to love it as well by the sounds she is making and how she grinds against him.

“He is too much of a pussy to treat you like this isn't he? He would never smack your ass raw and make you beg for his cock. Oh but I will sweetheart, I fucking will” he says, landing another hit. “Fuck yes. Please, Do it, please” she keens, her hips rocking back even more.

“Good girl” he groans, taking the opportunity to feel her now dripping cunt literally weeping for him. He gets lost in the moment, allowing her a small sliver of control. She shifts her ass up at his next rock of his hips, making the head of his cock graze very closely to her entrance. He hisses at the feeling, his lust boiling over. He feels legit feral.

He grabs her hips and thrusts in roughly. She yelps at his intrusion as he lets out a long moan. She is perfectly tight around him and he takes a quick second to relish the feeling before he starts a vicious pace. She sobs in pleasure, her hands scrumbling along the couch for something to hold onto. “Is this what you wanted?” he snarls, looming more over her. “Yes K-Kylo yes” she babbles, her breath shuddering in time with his thrusts.

Something in him snaps in him hearing her say his name. His hips quicken as he grips at her neck pulling her up closer to his chest. He can feel her clench down on him as her breath hitches between her panting moans. “God you are so fucking tight. Like a fucking vice. You like being manhandled like this, sweetheart? You like these big hands acting as a fucking necklace?” he teases, squeezing her airway just so.

She keens, her body winding up around him. She is the perfect height for this, making the angle sublime. Her cunt squeezes him deliciously making him feel slightly light headed. He leans in, rubbing his large nose along her bare shoulder and up her neck, finally allowing himself to taste her skin.

“You feel so good sweetheart. I can only imagine how good your ass will feel as well. God damn, I cannot wait to fuck your ass like this sweetheart” he snarls into her skin. She clenches around him at his filthy words and he knows she would enjoy it as much as he would.

“I knew you were a kinky slut. Ughh, cannot wait to ruin you forever. No one will be able to satisfy you like I can and you and I both know you will come crawling every time you need fucked. Now give me what I want” he says, biting into the meat of her shoulder.

She responds instantly, letting out a scream as her orgasm overtakes her. She gushes onto him, her cunt fluttering and squeezing his length. “Oh fuck yes” he groans her skin, his pace lightening up slightly to enjoy her release. The sounds were obscene, music to his ears.

But he needs more. He needs to see her face when she orgasms again and when he fills her up. He lets go of her neck, assisting her back down onto the couch. He watches her pant, her ribs and back muscles moving rapidly in and out. She looks back at him, her dark eye makeup slightly smeared and face flushed. She looks wrecked already and he’s not even close to being done with her yet.

He pulls out, causing her to gasp. He admires her cream coating himself and her puffy cunt. “Kylo please” she whines, wiggling her ass at him as she kicks off her panties. He smiles at her desperateness. Good fucking girl, give it all to me.

He swings her around and picks her into his arms and impales her on his cock. She shouts out, still sensitive from her recent release. “Don’t worry I got you” he gasps, his eyes never leaving hers as he takes a couple steps to his long forgotten work table and laying her atop his construction plans.

In this position, he can now truly appreciate her like he has dreamt about. Of them together in carnal bliss and he all flushed and wild. But this, this is so much better than he could ever come up with in his mind. Her body is alight with pleasure and it’s stunning.

Fuck he wants to see this every fucking day. He’s got to fuck her and he’s already addicted. His eyes follow her perfect form, his eyes stuck on that secret prize peeking out between her breasts. That delicate tattoo he wants to trace with his tongue and make her call out his name.

He wonders what other little surprises she has on her. Maybe another time he will explore her and map all those special spaces out and give them the attention they deserve. But this is not that time. His eyes move down to her exposed cunt, her labia stretching obscenely around him. He groans at the sight, pulling out once more to see her arousal leak out of her.

“Legs up sweetness” he says, tapping her thigh. She obeys, resting her legs on his strong shoulders. The change in position and the angle making them both groan again in pleasure. “Fuck, you are something else” he says between heaving breaths, his hips moving faster with more forceful thrusts, far deeper then before. “Fuck, fuck Kylo. Please. Fuck” she gasps, squeezing her eyes closed to keep her tears from falling.

“Look at me!” he bellows, unable to hold back now. He’s too far gone. Her beautiful eyes meet his in shock. He almost breaks character at the look she gives him, but he is too far gone. It's a primal dark thing inside him and nothing will stop him from taking what is his.

Her eyes begin to overflow with tears as he continues his assault. This is exactly what he wanted - to see her debatched under him, her eyes heavy-lidded and tears of pleasure running down her flawless skin. “I’ve dreamt about this sweetheart so many times. Of you crying while impaled on my cock, f-fuck” he gasps, his warning signs of his impending orgasm licking at the base of his spine.

She gasps and keens his name again, her fingertips reaching and grazing his contracting abdominal muscles. Her touch is electric, spurring his orgasm forward. He can literally feel her pleasure through it and it makes him want to give her the best orgasm of her life. He moans her name, gripping her calves and fucks her harder.

She is tightening and fluttering around him, a tell tale sign of her release. He focuses on her quickening breaths as her jaw drops open between her moans. It’s so fucking perfect. “I feel you baby, you ready sweetheart?” he groans, preparing to allow himself to go over the edge with her.

She nods once before throwing her head back as her body lets go. He cannot believe how tight she clamps down on his cock and how much she drenches him. It immediately triggers his own orgasm. He lets out a filthy roar as he pounds into her, pumping his hot cum into her. It feels never ending. His whole body tingles in pleasure as he continues to fill up her perfect cunt, moaning her name like a needy prayer.

He rides the high and slows his hips down to a gentle rock, finally allowing them both time to recover. He opens his eyes, taking in the aftermath of what they just did. She grins at him as she catches her breath, her skin flushed and shimmering with sweat. He drops a kiss onto her calf and leaning his head against the other.

“Is that what you were envisioning baby girl?” he says, his body spent. He leans against the table, his cock softening inside but doesn’t pull out yet. It’s something you both enjoy after sex, that afterglow and the closeness of being truly one. “That and so much more Ky” you say with a small laugh “thank you.” “My pleasure baby” he says, pushing the hair from your eyes.

“I didn’t hurt you too bad did I? I got a little carried away” he says, focusing on the softness of your hair. “Ky, if it was too much I would’ve used our safe word. I fucking loved every minute and I could tell you did too” she responds, grabbing his hand to kiss his tattood knuckles.

He cracks a full smile finally, overwhelmed with your love. He lets go of your legs, allowing you to move them into a much more comfortable position around his hips. “That I did, it was pretty fucking hot.” You beam at him as he reaches for your hand while the other lightly traces the lines between your breasts. “I cannot tell you how sexy you look in this” he says as he leans down and kisses your breasts.

“Thank you my love but I think your actions definitely showed me more than any words could say” you respond, running your hands through his wild dark hair. You feel his tongue trace your tattoo before leaving soft kisses up your chest, finally stopping right above your heart. “Best day ever” he whispers into your skin.

He smirks as you tug at his hair, a silent plea. He leaves one more kiss over your heart and moves to your lips. “Happy anniversary baby girl, I couldn’t have asked for anything more” he breathes before finally kissing you properly.

He groans into the kiss, loving the feeling of your soft lips against his own. It’s sweet and tender, so different from the rough fucking they just burned through. He pulls back slightly, nuzzling his nose with yours. “How about we get cleaned up and then we can move on to today's other plans?'' he asks. As if on cue, your stomach rumbles loudly at the mention of filet mignon and stuffed portabellos, making you both laugh at the ridiculousness of the timing.

“C'mon babe” he says, shifting his hands under your ass and lifting you into his arms “can’t let the wife starve”. “Damn right sir” you snark, wrapping your arms around his neck. He chuckles and shakes his head. How did he get so lucky to find you and make you his? He still doesn’t know but he thanks his lucky stars everyday. He carries you off to the bedroom, looking forward to an amazing dinner and a life full of amazing love.

If you enjoyed here is where you can find the original story and other one-shots from the Into The Reverb Universe:

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