#Adam Driver imagine

[l0vergirlsw0rld]

adam designated driver

intoxicated!readerxcaretaker!adam

a/n: adam driver is maybe like the love of my life I hope he reads well. this is also an older fic but maybe 2020-ish?

wc: 2.3k

18+ MDNI | no smut but sexual themes

summary: Y/N went out and had a few too many, when trying to call a taxi driver, she taps her friend adam's contact instead.

"Can I get a whiskey sour?!"You managed to shout over the pulsating bass.

The bartender nodded, turning around to grab the bottles he needed. 

He was in his mid-twenties, sporting a thick beard and jewelry: trendy black stretchers, multiple rings on his fingers, and bead bracelets that swung from his wrists as he shook the shaker vigorously.

You observed his rings up close as slid your fifth drink of the night in front of you.  You shouted a 'thank you' and passed him the money. The chilled glass froze your palm as you grabbed it. You winced hissed.

You were already intoxicated, which resulted in you feeling warmer than usual. You began to drink your cocktail, wincing from the prominent bourbon taste hitting your tongue. 

Turning to the dance floor on your bar stool, you observed your friends dancing provocatively in front of the men.

They would grind on each other and kiss for the sake of attention as if their clothing alone wouldn't draw attention, and it would work every time. Men who were complete strangers would buy you and your friends multiple rounds throughout the night hoping to get lucky.

Tonight, you all wore matching tight-fitted black mini skirts and tops that barely covered your chest. Your outfit in question was uncomfortable, to say the least, but it was like wearing a costume. When you'd dress like that, it was as if you were a new person, for one night. You immediately gained a newfound confidence and your adventurous side would come out to play.

You grinned against your glass, chuckling to yourself.

How you loved being a woman.

You scootch off the seat, stumbling, trying to find your footing. Your sense of balance was terrible when you were drunk and your heels did not help with that at the moment. 

Eventually, you made your way to your friends on the dance floor, joining the small circle to include yourself again.

"Y/N! There you are, I missed you!" Your little blonde friend threw herself on you. You caught her in your arms, laughing. 

The six of you danced to the beat. Hips swaying, arms in the air, hair flying everywhere. You could feel the blood pumping through your veins, and sweat forming on your forehead, but you didn't care you were having so much fun.

our arms were raised in a state of intoxicated freedom as you tried to keep up with your friends, whose energy seemed endless.

Your fingertips tingled as you waved your hands to the rhythm, and your feet grew numb from the constant stomping.

Your head felt heavy on your neck, and your eyelids became harder to keep open. You were running out of breath.

Your movements turned sloppy as your body began to fatigue, even though your mind insisted you had more energy than you actually did. Your chest heaved, struggling to breathe in the tight top.

A couple hours went by and the club slowly began to empty out as people left in small crowds. The night was approaching its end. 

You were seated in a booth with fewer friends, all of you trying to call your drives home.

Your vision was blurry as you fiddled with your phone, trying to hold it properly.

The aggressive blue light blinded you. You squinted, opening your contacts app.

A few scrolls down and you found your usual Taxi Driver's phone number.

You pressed it, bringing your phone close to your ear. The ringing echoed loudly in your ears as you drunkenly awaited a response. He finally answered. 

"Ugh-mkay, uh I'm at thuh Sound Night Club.... on Las Palmas, can you cohme get me? I'm fuckhing drunhk." You slurred into the phone mic.

After a few exchanges, you hung up. "Welp ladies, my taxi issa comin soon so I gotta wait outside." You stood, steadying yourself on the table. You draped your jacket over your shoulders, clinging your wallet and phone to your chest. You gave them each a kiss on the cheek and said your goodbyes. 

Your heels padded on the tacky red carpet as you slowly made your way to the entrance. Before leaving you wished the bouncer a good night. "It's not my birthday, but thank you." He replied. You just smiled, confused. 

You pushed the heavy doors open, only to be greeted with a freezing gust of air. Your exposed legs were now covered in chills. The street lights illuminated your flushed cheeks; how nice. You leaned your back against the club's brick wall and waited for your Taxi. 

A shiny black Camaro pulled up to the curb, flashing its lights and honking its horn. You stayed put, wondering whose ride it was. It then honked again.

You just observed silently. 

The driver's door opened and a tall dark man rose from the car. "Y/N?" He shouted. You jumped slightly. This wasn't your taxi driver: You wondered who the man was, and how he knew your name.

Fucking trouble, that's who.

The unknown man was shouting your name. You looked around to see if anyone else was outside that you could ask for help; not one.

Fuck it, you thought.

You took a run for it, your cheap heels clicking on the cement sidewalks, and you gripped all of your belongings as if your life depended on it, and at that moment it did. 

The streets of Los Angeles were dangerous at this time of night, and you were the desired victim; a drunk, helpless, pretty girl in slutty clothing.

So much for being a woman!

The cold air breezed through your product-filled hair as you ran down an alley, only to be cornered by the car again.

You stopped in your tracks, shocked. Your heart pounded in your ears and your mouth was now dryer than a desert. You couldn't find your voice to yell for help.

The man got out again and started running after you, leaving his door open. The car lights blinded you, you could only see his tall shadow approaching you, quickly.

You once again tried to make a run for it but your heel fell through a manhole cover. You rolled your ankle and fell to your knees, your full weight hitting the solid pavement. You groaned in pain. The man rushed to your sides, as you cried on your hands and knees.

This was the end.

"Y/N! What were you thinking? You could've gotten seriously hurt! You could've gotten hit by a fucking car!!" The familiar voice gritted with rage. You lifted your head trying to identify this strange individual's face, only to reveal the face of your friend, Adam. 

"Adam? Why the fuhhck are yohu trying to kidhnap me for?" You slurred, trying to push away from his grip. "Kidnap? What? -Y/N, you called me from the club asking me to pick you up." He raised an angry eyebrow. 

You just broke down in tears, feeling lost and confused.

"You're too drunk." He grumbled, shaking his head.

"nO, I called, Denis. My usual taxi." You squinted, pulling out your phone to show him. Adam plucked the phone from your grasp and examined the phone.

"Y/N, it says Driver. Driver, Adam." He sighed impatiently.

"Oh, well, i swearr thaht I actually talked to hi-WOah!" Adam had cut you off by picking you up bridal style from the ground.

"Let me down!" You attempted to squirm but your lack of energy or control didn't allow you to do so.

"No, Y/N. You hurt your ankle. Now stop whining and let me take care of you. It's late- It's 4 in the fucking morning and you're acting like a child." He knelt down to grab your jacket that was at his feet and proceeded to place you on the passenger side of his car.

He then resumed his place at the wheel and sped off to his apartment. His car hummed loudly down the silent streets.

During the drive, you were quiet, your scraped knees were pulled to your chest and you faced your window, observing the lights that flashed by as Adam sped through the neighbourhood. 

You began to feel your soberness again because all the adrenaline was gone and the pain was now settling in.

Adam pulled into the parking garage and stopped the car in his usual spot. He turned off his vehicle and picked you up once more, this time with less anger. You toyed with the collar of his shirt as he carried you to his door. He had so many birthmarks on his neck.

Arriving at 11B, he managed to unlock and kick his door open. He used his elbows to switch on the lights and laid you on the grey sofa. 

"Do you need anything? Some pants, another shirt? Socks?" He spoke on top of you, trying to keep you awake.

"This outfit is too tight, Adamhm, can I borrow some long socks and one of your T-shirts?" You breathed out, with your eyes closed. Your head felt heavy against the firm couch pillow, it's like you were sinking in quicksand.

"I'll be right back." He said. 

You peeked an eye open to observe his apartment decor. It was minimalistic, with tones of light greys, topes and whites. Indie artists covered his walls, and colourful woven rugs were sprawled across the floor. He had lots of books on his shelf in the corner, you propped yourself up and dragged your feet to the library dizzily.

Poetry.

 Adam had lots of notorious poets in his collection.

He returned shortly.

"Here you go. Are you sure you don't want some shorts or sweatpants? They have drawstrings, so you can tighten it as much as you want." He placed the clothing on the oak coffee table that you were now making your way to. 

"I'm sure... thank you, Adam." You smiled unzipping your painfully tight top, exposing your red push-up bra. Adam's eyes diverted to the floor, he didn't want to make you uncomfortable.

"If you need anything else, I'll be upstairs in my bedroom. It's the first door on your left." He turned to leave. 

"Wait, Adam!" You let the top fall to your feet.

"Yes?" He turned around, making only eye contact, trying to not observe your figure.

"You have poetry books in your library." You said, sliding your skirt off, leaving you in only your matching lace undergarments. 

Adam controlled his breathing. 

"I do, I do, uh, do you read lots of... poetry?" He asked leaning against his living room door frame.

"I actually used to write some and read them at open mic nights." You smiled, unclipping your bra swiftly, allowing your breasts to bounce out of your bra.

"Much better," You muttered.

"I-I uh, I didn't know that." He bit the inside of his cheek, face remaining unreadable. He crossed his muscular arms over his chest and fixed his posture. You could hear his foot tapping the floor, and you could sense uneasiness in him.

Oh?

Casually, you let the bra fall, like your top, and slid on his grey Star Wars t-shirt that he probably had received from a fan.

Adam was not one to watch let alone buy merchandise from his own projects. The Kylo graphic tee looked cute on you, it ended mid-thigh and wasn't too wide.

"I still write sometimes, but not as much as I'd like to, you know? What about you, do you write?" You sat on the low coffee table, knowing well, that Adam was struggling to keep his composure and slid on his long black socks that went up to your knees. 

"I do, but I don't think that it's good." He chuckled, trying to seem less awkward. You simply smiled at the statement and found your place on the couch. 

"um- you need some water and aspirin, I'll go get that for you." He said and walked out of the room, his heavy footsteps thumped on the creaky wooden floors. 

In one hand he had a big glass of iced water, and in the other, he had two tiny pills. "Thank you," you mumbled tiredly, washing down the medicine with water. "Need anything else?" He asked glancing at the time: 4:52 AM.

"No, I'll be fine, thank you, Adam. For everything. It's really appreciated. Also, I'm sorry for earlier, I thought you were trying to hurt me, it was dumb." You looked down at the glass that you held in your lap, in embarrassment. 

"You are...welcomed." He gave you a small close-mouthed smile before shutting off the lights and going upstairs to his own bed.

You tossed and turned on that shitty sofa. It was small compared to your bed at home and the throw blanket was too thin for your liking, you really wished you would've taken up that offer on the sweatpants. 

"Ugh, fuck it." You groaned, now fully sober and exhausted. 

You quietly got up and proceeded to make your way upstairs to the first bedroom on the left. You turned the doorknob slowly and pushed it even slower to avoid making any noise. You saw that his bedside light was on, and you could make out faint clicking noises. When you fully opened the door, you were happy to be greeted by Adam sitting shirtless in bed, typing on his computer. 

"Hi." You quietly spoke. 

He lifted his chin and met your eyes with his brown ones. "Hi." He gave you a toothy smile. 

"Can't sleep either?" You asked, padding towards his gigantic bed. "No, not really." He chuckled closing his laptop and placing it on his bedside table.

You sat on the foot of his bed, observing his thick chest and shoulders. He was a very attractive man, very large, he looked soft. You bit your lip at the thought.

"Come." He lifted the covers from the unoccupied side of the bed and tapped the mattress like when prompting a dog or cat to come sit next to you.

You obeyed and got under the covers next to him, already feeling his warmth.

You hummed in delight as he turned off the lamp. Adam laid on his side, facing you. You did the same, trying to focus your eyes on his face through the new darkness. 

He let out a tired sigh and without warning, he pulled your whole body forward. Your head was buried in his chest, his bicep supported your neck, and his other arm rubbed your back.

"Sleep, or you'll get sick tomorrow morning. "

You smiled and inhaled the scented body wash he used. You absent-mindedly pressed a kiss to his chest, making him hum lovingly.

A moment of thinking passed and he then tipped your head back, to place a long tender kiss on your lips. You returned the kiss, feeling his plump lips against yours in delight, sending butterflies in your stomach.

After, you returned to his chest and he placed another kiss on your forehead, drifting you slowly to sleep. 

oh adam, i'd die for you

[be-loved-moon]

[imaginedisish]

how do you sleep? (Ben Solo x fem!reader)

Part 1: We'll Never Have Sex

A/N: Hey guys!! So here is the first part of my Ben Solo x fem!reader fic. It is going to be told in non-chronological order, and every single part can be read as a one-shot! The overall series is based on "how do you sleep?" by LCD Soundsystem, but this particular part is based on "We'll Never Have Sex" by Leith Ross. I hope you guys enjoy!!!

Summary: After a lifetime of pining and yearning between you and Ben while training with Luke, things finally come to a head. (Series takes place over the year before Ben turns to the dark side, and then the aftermath of that).

Warnings: SMUT, fingering (f!receiving), so 18+, obviously canon divergence, all chapters can be read as a one shot with no context, series warning for canon typical violence, cursing, probably poorly proofread bc I only proofread once, praise kink...

Word Count: 2,511

Rain ruthlessly patters against the roof of the tent, threatening to leak through with each drop that came crashing down. You and Ben lay across from each other, a fire separating you, crackling in the center. You silently wish you were closer to him. You wish you could feel his calloused fingertips threading softly with your own. Maybe his hands would find their way to your waist, gently exploring your-

No. You can’t think like this, you’re not allowed to, never have been and never will be. You weren’t meant to get to have sex, married, to settle down, to have attachments of any kind. You were a Jedi, first, foremost, and only. 

But could love be that bad? Would being with Ben be so insurmountably terrible that it would corrupt both of you and bring disorder to the galaxy? Master Skywalker had told you it would, that an attachment of any kind would disrupt your training and your entire way of being. That notion had lost its meaning for you, and seemingly contradicted itself time and time again. If loving Ben was so horrific, why was it the only thing that made sense? 

“You okay?” He mutters, noticing that your eyes are glued to the fire, that stupid fire that stood in the way of being close to him. 

You mumble a yes in response, your mind far too clouded and nervous to say anything else. You were too busy convincing yourself that whatever bond you had with Ben defined the word yearn. You had known him your entire life, both having been trained by Luke practically since birth. And for as long as you could remember, you loved Ben Solo. 

And he loved you. 

But you held back, at least for as long as you could. As teenagers he had slipped up, kissed you while you had been sparring in the woods, far, far away from Luke. He had won the sparring match with your back to a tree, and he kissed you. 

Oh, you kissed me just to kiss me

Not to take me home

It was simple, it was sweetness

It was good to know

You talked about it once, and never again. You decided to hide it, to stuff the memory down, deep down where no one would ever be able to find it. Hiding wasn’t enough, it never was. You couldn’t forget it. Even now you dream of the taste of his lips on yours. You wish you could taste them now.

“You sure you’re okay?” His voice cuts through your thoughts, forcing you back to reality. He’s sat up now, looking down at you over the fire. 

You sit up too, forcing your gaze into the flames. “Yeah, I’ll be alright.” It was Master Skywalker’s fault for putting you and Ben on missions together, for keeping you two so close. He had to know how the two of you felt about each other. It was like some soul crushing test, some obstacle he expected you two to jump over and come out the other side stronger Jedi. 

He couldn’t have been more wrong. And it certainly wouldn’t be the last mistake a Skywalker made. 

“Do you…” He paused, waiting for your gaze to meet his. Your heart skips a beat when your eyes lock. “Do you wanna come over here?” He asks. He tilts his head to the side, searching for your response in your face before you can think of something to say. 

Say no, You think to yourself. Bad idea. Bad, terrible, awful idea. But your thoughts don’t seem to communicate with the rest of your body. You’re already standing up, walking around the fire, and sitting down on the edge of his cot, facing away from him. 

Ben rests a warm hand on your lower back, his thumb tracing circles and stars along your spine. It feels good, comforting – so it can’t be bad. You didn’t feel any evil bubbling up in your stomach, no pull into the darkness like had been foretold and prophesied. 

“Are you gonna tell me what’s going on?” Ben asks, there’s a smirk in his voice. You could hear it from a mile away. You turn your head to look down at him, and there it was, the cocky smirk. The second he sees the pain contorting your face, it slips away. You want it to come back.

You smile softly, reassuring him that everything was fine. “It’s just the nightmares.” It wasn’t a lie. They had certainly come back. You had dozed off a few minutes ago, and there they were. You weren’t going to fall back to sleep, not without him.

Ben responds by wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you down onto the cot. You stretch out a bit, letting yourself get pulled under the current of whatever was about to happen. The loneliness was too much; being without him was too much. And those – of course – were the real issues, the real sickness that was plaguing you. 

You and Ben knew loneliness too well, far better than any being ever should. 

Having someone this close kept that sinking alone feeling at bay; trapped it in some deep, dark, unintelligible, inaccessible corner far out of your mind’s reach. The feeling of his arms holding you tightly in place dispersed it, decimated it, fragmented it into pieces that simply could not be put back together, as if they had never been part of a whole to begin with. 

You’ve never had someone this close for this long. You’ve never gone this long without that alone feeling nipping at your skin and cursing in your face. And yet, it had been silenced. It wasn’t just because of a someone. He silenced it. And you knew that he was the only one who could. No, this couldn’t have just been anyone. It had to be him. 

And only him. 

“Ben,” You whisper. He squeezes your hip lightly in response. The feeling sends a ripple of chills down your spine. 

You don’t know exactly how long it’s been like this, standing on the ledge of a building neither of you should jump off from. You lost track of the time a few years ago. But you certainly never lost track of him. 

He squeezes your hip again, his lips suddenly sinking against your neck. You swallow the heavy lump in your throat as his hips push against yours. You jump, I jump, You think to yourself as he presses open-mouthed kisses up to your jaw, his body slowly shifting so that he’s above you. You let yourself fall onto your back, staring up at him. 

It was so quick, so easy to melt under his touch. It was too easy, for both of you, to give into the thing that had connected you for years. It was too simple to get to where you are now for it to ever be bad, to be the start of another war. 

The words slip from your lips. “I think I love you…” But you didn’t think. There was no thinking about this sort of thing, especially with Ben. That think came from your nerves, from that part of you adroitly trained to push him and everything else away. You didn’t want this to go past think. Think sits in limbo, unsure of its position, suspended in fluidity and nonsense. 

“Think?” Ben enunciates each letter, as if to question each sign’s meaning. But the smirk on his face tells you he’s much less serious than that, and that he knows your intention is far more serious than that think. 

You clear your throat, but the anxious feeling continues climbing up your esophagus. “Yeah…” You trail off, failing to seem aloof. “I think I-,”

“I know.” The thunder outside attempts to rudely interrupt the crackle of the fire and the finality of his words, but you hear them all the same. 

“Know what?” You question as the tips of his fingers graze the sides of your neck, slowly and gently wrapping around, as if to hold you in place. 

There’s no nervousness etched across his forehead as those perfect lips of his part. His brows aren’t furrowed, he doesn’t clear his throat. That smirk still tugs on his lips, even more so in his eyes, begging to be stretched into a smile. He’s cocky – but sweet – because he knows you’re terrified beyond belief. He’s more comfortable crossing this line than you are.

He was made to cross lines. “I know I love you.” And he means it. He means it in a way that speaks for you too, in a way that takes your think and transforms it into something greater. It was permanent, static, steadfast. A know, not a think. 

Rain pounds violently against the roof and you’re almost thankful for it. It keeps your words from leaking outside and into unaccepting ears. The ears that you and Ben had sworn your life to, your being to, your duty to. You were consciously breaking that oath, that code, that order that you had lived by for as long as you could remember. 

Part of you wants to scream, How dare you? How dare you cross the man who taught you everything, gave you everything? But what if that everything wasn’t as important as what Ben was, as that know had suddenly become? 

You know the answer, you’ve known it for years, before this moment, before he kissed you against that tree. You know the answer every time you see his smile, those eyes. You know when you hear his voice, when you feel his hand at your back when you’re being reprimanded by Skywalker. And he knows it too. He’s known longer than you have. 

Never mind crossing the line, it’s gone now, as if it was never there to begin with.

His lips press fervently against yours, already begging for more. He fits perfectly there, above you, your bottom lip skimming against his teeth, being bruised and imprinted with each hungry kiss. 

He pulls away for a second, his chest rising and falling somehow faster than your own. You wonder if he can hear your heart beating out of your chest, the sound drumming violently against your own ears. His hands unclasp your throat, roaming down your body, exploring each curve and corner before resting at the hem of your shorts. 

“Wanted you,” He pauses, his fingers hooking under the waistband. “For so long.” He finishes, his lips finding yours again. “So fucking long.” 

“B-Ben,” You’re stumbling around your words, and yet your mind has never felt more clear, more free. “Need you, please.” It’s a beg, a whine. 

His lips part from yours for just a second to pull your shorts and panties down. “Always needed you,” He says as his right hand drifts slowly down your stomach and in between your thighs. He spreads your legs and finds your clit before two of his fingers move further down. “So wet for me,” He says in between the gasps that echoed in the air. 

“B-Ben,” You whimper, suddenly remembering once again that you quite literally have never had anyone this close before. “I-I’ve nev-,”

“I know,” He whispers, his voice filled with lust, even deeper than normal. His dark hair falls against your forehead. “I’ve got you.” His fingers move back to your clit, circling slowly at first, gradually getting faster until all you can do is dig your nails into his shoulders. 

“F-fuck,” You curse. He presses harder against your core. “Need you, Ben,” You beg, all breathy and carelessly loud. 

Ben rests his forehead against yours, his fingers flicking at your clit, his other hand coming up and under your tank top. You have no bra underneath, something he couldn’t help noticing before. He gently rolls a nipple between his thumb and forefinger, reveling in the way you feel against him. 

He wanted you, needed you, just as much as you wanted and needed him. 

His palm glides across your chest, making sure to do the same to the other side before swiftly pulling your top up and over your head, discarding it somewhere on the floor. You don’t care if it lands in the fire. You wanted it to burn. 

“Doing so good for me,” He whispers, his lips sucking against your neck now. “Such a good girl.” 

You feel yourself clench around nothing, fluttering as Ben’s fingers refuse to let up. “I’m s-so close,” You choke, struggling to catch your breath. You could feel that familiar feeling building up in your stomach, heat spreading like a wildfire across your skin and every inch of your body. “Ben,” You recklessly call out. “I’m gonna-,”

“That’s it,” He coos, his fingers still working at your core. “Come on my fingers.” And just like that, white heat, stars, the cliché tension snapping, all of it was true. With him, that’s exactly what it felt like. 

He doesn’t stop right away, his fingers slowing down a bit before dipping down to your entrance, collecting your slick bringing them up to his lips. His fingers disappear into his mouth, sucking gently before he pulls them out. The feeling at your core immediately sparks again. You want more, need more. 

“Ben!” Your heart pangs in your chest at the shout of a familiar voice. FUCK. “Ben!” The voice yells again, outside the tent. Your eyes widen in fear. Panic fills your chest, and Ben springs up and out of the cot, hoping to get outside the tent before the voice found its way inside. 

Ben smiles at you as he stands at the entrance of the tent. You smile back, but you’re freaking out on the inside. What if Luke hadn’t called Ben’s name? What would’ve happened if he had simply come in and caught you? Ben can tell that you’re uneasy by the way your nose scrunches up, eyebrows furrowed tightly. And yet, you don’t regret a thing. How could you? 

“It’s okay, don’t worry,” He whispers, grabbing the cloth door to the tent with his hand. “We’ll figure it out…” He trails off, looking towards the door for a second before his gaze finds yours again. “I’d do anything for you, I mean it.” His words are so final, so permanent, the exact thing you had been afraid of. 

But not anymore. 

“I know I love you.” The words fall from your mouth with ease this time. You can hear Master Skywalker’s footsteps growing closer to the tent.

Ben smiles, his cheeks flushing just a touch, like someone had pinched his cheeks ever-so-slightly to remind him of how handsome he was. “I know I love you,” He says back before squeezing out of the tent so his uncle wouldn’t see the evidence of creed that had been broken and the attachment that had been consummated.

What the fuck were you going to do?

Depollute me, gentle angel

And I'll feel the sickness less and less

Come and kiss me, pretty baby

Like we'll never have sex

[calummss]

PREY | FLIP ZIMMERMAN

masterlist

summary: never trust a charming man. his charm might turn into your worst nightmare when the man seems too good to be true

pairing: fem! reader x flip zimmerman

words: 2.1k

a/n: this is the weirdest idea i’ve ever had, do not ask how i came up with it…i wrote this for english lit so if there a name or description to the my oc i changed to ‘y/n’ please ignore since i didnt proof read!!

TW! kidnapping, implied cannibalism

"I can hear you, sweetheart," taunting words fell between the rapid rustling and crunching of the autumn leaves, creaking branches, and the smell of wet weeds and newly bloomed wild flowers.

A thin layer of sweat covered the nape of your neck; your hairs stuck to the side of your face as you twisted and turned to see what direction was the way out of the forest maze—quickly and safely. Every second you pondered, you wasted time. Every wrong turn you took, you wasted energy. Every second, you were hopelessly running away from safety.

You felt a surge of adrenaline as the cold air bit into your lungs. You forced your legs to push harder off the muddy ground and slippery roots, anticipating the relief of finding someone who could help. A sudden ringing noise penetrated your ear; a waft of air shot past you. Your heart sank into what seemed like a bottomless pit in your stomach when you saw a shotgun shell embedded in tree bark. A meaningless piece of brass and plastic, the colour of gasoline fuel, but its shape solid; red like blood.

Your screaming burst through your lungs; it was the only weapon you had. Your breath was sharp and frantic, your eyes wide filled with tears. Fear washed over you as you thought of the possibility of your life being cut short just because you had trusted a man who turned out to be the kind of charming until he got what he needed.

"You broke my trust, Y/n." His voice sang through the thick air. "You know, my favourite game as a boy used to be hide-and-seek. Always played with my brother, friends, family,” A short but taunting silence made your heart race. "They always complained because I played unfairly and cheated," he said, to the sound of his gun clocking. "I disagree."

The soft ground blurred below you. You continued running for what seemed like longer than it should have, figuring it was because of the psychopath on your tail. The only things that could hinder you from survival were your physical limits and your doubt. But your exhaustion also came running after you, and your cramping legs gave in, falling into the pile of wet leaves. Your body shook as you pressed your back against the tree trunk, trying to regain some sort of power to keep on running, but it was no use.

His frame edged closer and closer, his black shoulder-length hair blowing in the low wind. His dark gaze fixed on you as his twisted smile sent shivers down your spine.

Your mind went frantic with the thought, ‘weak.’

He looked at you, jaw clenched, inches away from you. Nostrils picked up the scent of his cologne as your lips started to tremble, knowing you had failed to outrun him. What would he do now that you had tried to run away? You didn’t know.

"You look beautiful when you're scared," he crouches down, cocking his head. "But the fun is over now and I get really angry when people try to outsmart me. Will you try to outsmart me again?"

"Please!" Your voice cracks. "Please, you don’t have to do this!" You cry out, hot tears streaming down your cheeks.

"But I do," his voice now soft like it had been before he opened up the door to his cabin. "I have to do this."

Your crying intensified; your chest grew tight as bile rose in your throat. Blood pounded in your ears. Your hands shook. Your feet tingled. Your vision was disfigured, as if you were looking through a fish tank. There was nothing else you could do but give up. His strong arms scooped you off the ground and started carrying you away.

Your heart pounded even harder when you could see a street poking from behind the branches, realising you had given up before the finish line. Darkness was torn from your face, and a matrix of lights blinded you. Groaning, you shifted, attempting to jerk away from the brightness beyond your lids. Your hand hits your face, the drowsiness making you feel like a marionette. But even though your limbs feel heavy, like they had piled on imaginary weight, you tried to pull herself together. Pushing your torso off the ground, you noticed you were back in the living room you had been in moments before you took off running. Your eyes scanned for restraints—none.

But there he was. Tall, broad, muscular, wearing...black? A black blazer buttoned over something white, dark trousers, black shoes, all melting together into one until you blink a few times.

He must have noticed your surprise.

"Don’t worry," he took a swig of beer. "This manor is human proof. Both escaping," he huffed out, placing his hands on his thighs before talking towards the kitchen counter, "I mean like escape proof, soundproof, everything proof." He laughed.

"Why are you doing this?"

You spoke, your heart pounding and your voice cracking. "What the fuck is happening?"

He cackled, like he had one too many drinks, and laughed at a terribly awful joke. "Something very unfortunate for you."

"Let me go. Please. I swear I—I won’t tell anyone."

Silence.

“What happened, Flip?" Your gaze dropped to his frame, his chest rising and falling with each breath he took. His hands engulfed the beer bottle he held. "What did I do wrong?"

"You did nothing wrong, Y/n." Monotone. Dry.

"Then please tell me why you are doing this to me." You couldn’t stop your chin from trembling or your heart from wanting to explode out of your chest. "You treated me so well. We slept together. And now. What is this?"

Flip scrambled out of his seat.

Your eyes darted across the room—the drawing room at the cabin, nothing but miles of land and sheep. It stood close to the sea, just off the coast of the Atlantic Ocean, which at this time of year had the strongest and toughest currents.

Flip placed the beer on one of the coffee tables and braced his weight on the gold-encrusted sofa that stood perfectly opposite you.

"I mean don’t get me wrong, dear, the sex was incredible and probably some of the best I ever had but it was part of my scheme."

"What scheme? To lure me to the woods?” You wanted to shout, but every bit of effort you made to speak or move was tripled against the weight of you building fear.

"Look, it’s nothing personal, Y/n," he said, lifting the corner of his lips. "You took my bait and now it's on you. It’s not my fault when you’re so gullible when it comes to love. I mean seriously, falling in love within three dates?"

"Is Flip even your real name?"

"Yes. My full name is Philip Zummerman."

"You give your victims your government name?"

"Well, it’s not like any of them will ever tell the police," he chuckled, his white teeth shining between his black moustache and beard. "You asked me before why I am doing this. I have an answer to that but I don’t think you’ll enjoy it as much."

"What is the answer?"

"I am handsome, well proportioned and insanely wealthy. Those two components work rather marvellously together. I either charm my way out of any trouble or I’ll just pay off what I need to. Humans are leeches by nature, you know," he took another sip of his beer. "Humans crave luxuries and comfort, and what else?"

"I don’t know."

“Yes, you do. C’mon!" He slouched down with the biggest grin he had yet given.

“Ehm,” pause, “Money?"

“Ding Ding Ding…money. How much money do you think it will take to buy an ordinary man’s silence? Say less than a thousand dollars? Maybe even two if he’s desperate enough."

You had no idea how to behave. You felt like you were compelled to listen to him.

Flip stood back up again, beer in his hand, his back facing her as he paced around on the dark ebony floors, the squeaking penetrating your ears.

“And how much do you think you will need to persuade that same man, so dull and simple, to take a life?" His feet stopped moving.

A deafening silence.

What?

"Those dirty old men rummaging around the dirty cities of Colorado would do it for 5.000? Maybe 10. But in their eyes, you are worthless. Not worthy of anything except the price tag above your head that has compelled them to blindly follow any orders given to them. Just like dogs. I think there’s a psychology behind it but then again I am no psychologist,"

“What are you going to do with me?" You asked once more, collecting every ounce of calmness you had left, forcing yourself to make contact with him.

He sighed in response. Like he was... bored, annoyed, rushed? Perhaps all three?

"I’m going to kill and eat you."

His gaze went through you like a blast of ice, his sick smile making your stomach churn. Your muscles stiffened, paralyzed by fear. You could hear the slow, dragging beat of your heart. Fear became a tangible living force that crept over you like some hungry beast, immobilising you and your brain, holding you captive. Every muscle in your body screamed at you to try and escape again, but you remained frozen.

"What…" Bile started to rise again.

"I will kill you, and I will eat you." The clicking of his tongue enunciating his pointed finger on you. "A simple concept really."

Panic started to settle in again. Fear creeping from behind, the hair on the nape of your neck stood up.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no." Nothing but high-pitched whimpers. Shallow breaths made it impossible to think clearly.

Your mind was scattered. How to escape? What had happened? Was your hand numb? Why did it feel like little pinpricks?

"This isn’t happening."

"It’s happening." His dark, monotone voice penetrated past your thoughts.

"It’s not happening. It’s not happening. This is all a bad dream."

You never had a heart attack but if someone had told you this is what it felt like, you wouldn’t doubt them. Your breathing was laboured, and your palms felt wet. You couldn’t think of anything but that your chest might get crushed any minute. "Oh, Lord," you started, "save me just this once."

You were trying to breathe, but you couldn’t. Someone was clutching your throat, stopping you from taking full breaths. But there was no one stopping you. Tears started trickling down your cheeks as panic crept over you again. This time, panic was unavoidable. It felt like forever. You sat there and panicked. He kept trying to say something, but nothing but mumbles made it past your ear. What he tried to tell you was inaudible.

‘Y/N!’

So suddenly his shouting erupted, bringing your mind back to reality as you stared blankly at him. You could feel a tear sitting at your lower lash line.

“There you are," Flip’s voice was half way between a whisper and a shout, deep and rumbling like the earthquake below you but still full of the danger you felt whenever you noticed his eyes on you. "Y/n."

“You’re a cannibal?" You choked back the fear and guilt you felt in your heart, speaking to yourself .

“Don’t insult your own intelligence," he tuts. "I do have a tendency to strongly dislike people who belittle themselves for the sole reason of incompetence or lack of confidence."

“And you just eat people?"

"I have refined tastes," he answers, his expression emotionless, but you could see the coiled tension in his body, the rage ready to spill forth. "You have complimented me on my cooking just earlier this evening. I remember the way your eyes fluttered, enjoying the thigh fillet. I would say your tastes are the same as mine. Why don’t we get you relaxed, dear? Hm? I have a room just for you and we’ll talk about this once you are back to normal."

"Normal. Normal."

You could feel his arms underneath you as he brought you to his chest. Feet dangling in the air as he made his way towards a wooden door that led down a spiral staircase, a red carpet greeting you as he walked past another long hallway until he came to a halt in front of the second-to-last door.

"You know, my dear, normally in these types of situations there would be some revulsion at the revelation that you’ve consumed a person. I see nothing of that in your demeanour. You don’t seem to care about the fact that others have suffered to land on my plate, yet you only seem to panic after you found out that you would meet their same fate... Tell me why? Do you think you are more important?"

[multiverseofimagines]

OH MY GOD IM GOING FERAL OVER THIS PIC

[januaryembrs]

APPRENTICE | Kylo Ren x force user!reader

Request: Hi! Can you do a Kylo Ren x Reader, where the reader is a wielder of the Force who begs Kylo to be her teacher and to learn more about it. Imagining she’s heard about him and The First Order, & knows that he’s a powerful force user.

@obsessionprofessional says - Congrats on almost 1000 followers! I hope it IS 1000 by the time you read this! May I please request a Kylo Ren x female reader piece in which he finally admits his feelings? And maybe they snuggle :3 Again, congratulations on this milestone!

description: You realise your slight quirk is actually much more than you ever imagined when you meet an Empire commander who asks you to become his apprentice.

word count: 2.5k

trigger warnings: swearing? slight angst? feeling of being unworthy?

main masterlist

Some people said you had a kind of magic touch when it came to fixing machines. Call it a dull way of living, but being plunged into a world where it was thrive or die, being a useful hand at repairing droids proved incredibly beneficial.

When the order ransacked your village, in need of a crew to fix up a ship that had crash landed nearby. It wasn’t until they started pulling out blasters and yelling threats that someone threw you into the line of fire by claiming you were the best in town at engineering. It was true of course, but the candour had meant you were dragged at gunpoint to the ship and forced to work. 

You quickly realised this was not just any ship, but an officer's vehicle. Important, sleek, complex machinery. Not only that, its pilot looked royally pissed as he caressed a bleeding forehead and black eye. 

His cold near-black eyes flicked to you as the troopers thrust you forward. “The villagers said this one could fix it,” They said, nodding a head in your direction. He looked you hard in the face, and you jutted your chin up to give some impression that you weren’t afraid. 

Truthfully, you were shitting your cargos the moment you saw the saber on his hip. 

“You know how to build ships?” He barked, almost as if he was tired of you already, despite the fact you hadn’t dared breathe yet. You swallowed heavily, the stone in your throat not quite dislodging itself.

“Some, yes,” He seemed displeased, as told by the slight tilt of his head, “Most actually,” you corrected yourself, warily. “I’d have to give it a look but with the right tools proba- yes,” You stumbled.

You had no clue what he was thinking as his eyes narrowed into slits. He nodded his head for you to approach the ship, which you did so promptly.

One small mistake and you just knew your heart would be ripped from your chest cavity in seconds. 

Breathing in deeply through your nose, you lifted a gentle hand to the body of the ship. It hummed under your touch, as if groaning in pain from the damage to its body, and you let out a deep exhale, removing the control panel to at least pretend to be looking at the damage in the conventional way. You knew you didn’t even need to move an inch to discover the problem thanks to your superpower.

The parts of the ship flickered through your mind, each ticking over in their correct tune until your mind found the source of the problem. You had no clue how you’d always managed to feel the machines, feel every part of them with a single touch, as if they had a life or soul of their own; it was what made you so practical at your job. 

You quickly assessed the engine was shot, along with part of the wing’s wiring needed rebuilding. You turned back to the unkind commander with the answer ready in your mouth, only to see him staring at you with something in between fascination and confusion.

“The wings-” You started only for him to cut you off.

“How did you do that?” His sneer shut you up. Normally people just took it that you were talented at your job, no one had ever caught onto what you were actually doing. 

“Do- Do what exactly?” You stammered, chest puffing out in faux confidence.

He looked over you a moment longer, before igniting his saber and drawing it to your neck. You could feel the heat washing over your windpipe, the crackling of the weapon echoing in your ears. 

You gulped, the bravery slipping with no heistance. “You know exactly what I’m talking about. I felt the disturbance in the force. Are you really so stupid you thought I wouldn’t notice?”

Your face screwed up. “The force? What’s a force?” You asked, eyes flicking to the saber as he brought it closer to your jugular. It was then you crumbled, “Please! I have no idea what you’re talking about. It’s just something I’ve always been able to do, it’s how I fix machines so quickly back home-”

“So you have no idea what you are?” He mutters, his eyes dark as they took you in whole. He saw the sincerity in your puzzled expression, saw how your eyes showed nothing but fear and helplessness, like a wounded animal in need of a mercy kill.

He grunted, thrusting out a hand to his ship. You thought he was getting ready to strike you with his bare hand, drawing in on yourself. It was then that you heard a loud groan of metal work, and your head snapped to the ship behind you. You watched as something strong began crushing the vessel, as if the air around it was betraying itself and began squeezing. The metal dented, falling under the weight of the traitorous force. 

Force. He had said it himself. 

Your head whipped back to meet his eyes, dark and ravenous for the truth. “Do you see? We’re the same, you and I.” Your mouth dropped open, settling for a nod. 

He took a step closer to you, a gloved hand coming up to hold your temple, fingers gentle caressing your head. “You think I could do that?” You whispered, feeling something heavy settle over your brain, as if a bug had crawled into your ear as he touched you. You daren’t move away, something about his sharp eyes stunning you into place.

You wished to know what it was he thought you were capable of, the blind faith he was putting in you and whatever this force was you had. 

Of course you’d always wondered what it was that made you special, and here he was offering you an explanation. 

“You don’t know just how special you are,” He said clearly, dropping his hand. His black eyes flicked over your face that drew back in shock. It was as if he’d heard every thought you’d had, surely he couldn’t have. “I could show you just how remarkable you could be, just say the word.”

You gaped at him, stuck for words. The Empire were evil, they tore everything good up from the root and left the rest of the world to rot. You could never be one of them, never succumb to their ways. But you yearned to know what it was that gave you this power, yearned to wield it, perhaps even then use it for good; wanted to learn how to become as powerful and strong as he was. You saw how the troopers cowered around him, perhaps you could even hold that fear over them. 

You looked up at him, his eyes calculating as they took you in. He could give you all that.

“Teach me,” You murmured back. 

“Again!” He commanded, your chest constricting in an ache now familiar to you. It had been six months since he had found you and while you had come on leaps and bounds than simply testing machinery, you were even able to move objects with your powers now. 

The Force as you had come to understand it was peculiar in how it presented itself in each user. Kylo, who you spent most days with as his new apprentice, had told you some were better at healing while others specialised in combat, though you were pretty sure he was trying to comfort you in his own way at the fact you struggled some days to so much as lift blocks than move people like he could. 

Today being one of those days, where no matter how hard you pushed yourself, how hard you willed your hand to grasp the metal block and bring it to yourself, the damn thing would not budge.

“Kylo, I’m trying,” You grunted between attempts. You wouldn’t be surprised if you burst a vessel at this point with the exertion on your brain, “I can’t-”

“You are much more capable than you know,” The man retorted, and you felt his snake-like eyes watching as your face crumpled in effort. It was supposed to be supportive, but the way he said it was cold and plunging to your chest, as if he was tired of your dramatics. 

It only served to dishearten you further. 

“You expect too much of me, I’m no better than any child trying to learn this stuff,” You snapped, lowering your hand with a slap to your leg. You were tired, tired of all of this. “Maybe-” You willed yourself not to cry, “Do you ever think maybe I’m just not good enough?”

The past six months had truly taken your spirit out of you. Kylo woke you up early most days for the two of you to eat together before you had training. From there it was four hours in the morning, a break for lunch, then studying the texts he gave you on force users that came before you. Then more training like today's session, usually about object manipulation but he had been trying to get you to learn how to read his mind for the past few weeks. That alone was proving difficult since you were constantly on edge wondering if he was doing the same to you, the way his eyes darkened and jaw clenched making you believe he knew exactly what you were thinking. 

It wasn’t so difficult to see with one look into your head that your every thought revolved around him these days. How handsome he was, how he occasionally would caress your arm when helping you to focus, which only worked to send you spiralling. How pretty he was when he laughed if you said something particularly witty over first meal. 

You stopped trying, looking up at him tiredly. “What if I’m not as special as you want me to be?” You asked emptily. Seeing how talented he was only rubbed salt in the wound of your failures and had you wondering if you were cut out to be here for weeks now. 

He stopped, looking across the room at where you stood looking hopeless. “You’re being stupid,” He said, but the way his eyebrows quirked upwards slightly told you he wasn’t as annoyed as he sounded.

“No!” You protested, shrugging your shoulders and rubbing your neck, “You keep saying I can be great, I can be so much more- but you don’t get it. I’m trying, I’m bleeding myself dry to please you and I just know I’m never going to be as powerful as you want me to be,”

He was losing you, he could feel you slipping between his fingers as you stepped away from him. He knew he was pushing you but it was only because he saw the fire burning inside of you, the energy growing day by day, because he wanted you to be able to defend yourself if the worst should happen, if he couldn’t be there to take care of you. 

Kylo had not known any feeling like this before, as if the day he saw you fix his machine he had met himself in the form of another. Someone who could understand, who he could shape into an equal. His fondness only grew once he realised  how funny you were, how your mind ticked in an entirely different way to his own, how you were not another version of him but your own in an entirely unique way. 

He loved how kind you were, and gentle. Something he never was in this life. He saw how you looked at him, and he simply longed for you to realise just how much he cared.  

“You are,” Kylo whispered, finding his voice before you could turn away from him for good. You looked up at him, hearing him mumble under his breath. “You can be so powerful if you keep trying,” 

You shook your head, feeling as if this were the same thing you had heard time and time again, “Maybe it’s best if I just go home,”

That had his heart plummeting, “No, don’t-”

“I think that would be best for both of us. I’m sorry I’ve wasted your time,” You turned to exit the training room, wondering how you would get back to your home planet. 

“Wait!” He tried calling, and with three simple strides he had caught up to you and grabbed a tight hold of your arm, willing you not to go, “Please,”

That was a shock. He had never used such a word in the time you’d known him. You eyes snapped to his to see him staring down at you like a vulnerable creature. 

“Kylo-”

“You can’t leave me, please,” He begged, pulling you closer, “I know I don’t tell you, I haven’t told you but you are already spectacular. You never needed me to be special,”

You frowned at him up at him, head drawing back in frustration. “Don’t take pity on me, Kylo. I don’t need it,”

“No, it’s true! It was never me that made you amazing,” Kylo said, drawing you into his embrace further, as if scared you would flee like a scared sand rat, “You were all that on your own,” He went quiet, as if debating whether to talk more before his eyes flicked to your sneering lips, “It’s one of the things I like most about you, actually,” 

Your chest stopped, mouth struggling to choose between hanging open and remaining clamped shut as you tried to formulate words. 

He liked you. He liked you, and he no doubt knew just from one touch alone you liked him. Of course he must know. Should you tell him how you feel despite that? He must know, you must make sure he knows its mutual-

“Just,” Kylo’s begging cut through the tangent your brain sent you into as it always did when you thought of him, “Please don’t leave. I don’t want to be alone again. You mean more to me than I know what to do with,” His voice was quiet now, each word breathing over your lips.

Anything. You would do anything for him if it meant he would keep looking at you like that, begging you like that. 

You didn’t need to read his mind to know he was being honest, to know you needed each other more than either of your had ever realised. 

[hoteldreamss]

Kylo Ren || imagine

Метки: шпионаж; небольшой сталкиринг

Слов: 1,3k

Тебе меньше всего хотелось быть связанной с Первым орденом.

Но учитывая необходимость, ты была здесь, работая под прикрытием уже около года. Надеясь продержаться до победы Сопротивления.

Это основные причины, твоих попыток избегать Кайла Рена. Всем известно, на что он способен. И хотя твои силы схожи с его, ты всё же решила, что стоит держаться подальше от Кайло. Хотя это никогда не получалось особо хорошо.

Он следил за тобой, зная о том, кто ты, зная, что ты делала для его врагов и матери. И позволял тебе всё это, как и наблюдать себе за тобой. Ему нравится это. Маленькое занятие отвлекало его, особенно, когда он заметил, что ты одна из джедаев. Он понятия не имел могла ли ты управлять своей силой достаточно хорошо, хотя по сей день ему не удавалось этого выяснить.

Но теперь, когда он столкнулся с тобой на прямую. Ты даже не подозревала, что всё это время он мог следить, поглощённый не только своей тёмной дорогой, но и тобой.

— Капитан! — Ты не сразу реагируешь, ��ацикленная на панели управления, слишком увлечённая своим занятием. Но когда называют твою фамилию ты поднимаешь голову, смотря на одного из своих коллег. — Капитан Таркин сделал тебя главной, пока его нет.

— Его нет уже пару месяцев, с каких пор я главная? — Ты хмуришься, и оглядываешь по всей видимости теперь на свою команду. Это был этаж управляющих людьми во время битвы, стратеги, те кто должны были оценивать риски и их отсутствие.

— Кайло Рен требует отчёта, — произносит твоя коллега, игнорируя вопрос.

Ты переводишь взгляд на вход и видишь Рена, который прожигает тебя взглядом. Он больше не носил маски, и ты могла признать, что большинство женщин, даже ты, были рады узнать, насколько этот человек привлекателен. Но ты всё ещё чертовски сильно боялась его и того, что произойдёт, когда он узнает о твоих истинных мотивах работы на Орден.

Направившись к нему, ты стараешься чувствовать себя уверенно. Это не так страшно, тебе просто нужно сказать то, что ты и так знаешь.

— Верховный Лидер, — произносишь ты, приветствуя его.

— Вице-Капитан, доложите обстановку.

— Наша позиция более выгодна, чем у сопротивления. Им не удастся долго продержаться. Они теряют своих, мы превосходим их в численности, и я отдала приказ стрелять по двигателям. Это обеспечит нам…

— Хватит. — Он определённо оценивает тебя, замечая твою идеальную осанку, ровный голос и чёткую речь, к тому же ты смотрела в его глаза, будто не боялась. — Я жду вас после того, как мы закончим.

Он просто разворачивается и уходит, заставляя тебя чувствовать замешательство. Ты оглядываешься, замечая, несколько человек слушавших вас. Их сочувственные взгляды заставляют тебя раздражаться, потому что ты не желала этого. Даже если завтра тебя не будет в живых.

***

Удивительно, но вам удалось отбиться во главе с тобой. И ты определённо гордишься своей работой.

Придя в огромную комнату, через окно в которой можно увидеть все ангары с кораблями и самолётами, ты теряешься свой запал. Реальность быстро обрушивается на тебя. Теперь ты чувствуешь себя неуютно и напряжённо.

— Какого тебе бороться против своих же? — ��то первое, что он говорит, когда дверь за тобой закрывается и ты неловко стоишь позади него, думая, как тебе следует себя вести.

— Я не понимаю о чём вы говорите, — произносишь ты, решая, что позиция "идиотки" может спасти тебя.

Ты слышишь его вздох. Он стал слегка иначе себя вести после того, как получил звание Верховного Лидера. Из мальчика с маской, он превратился в молодого человека, стремящегося к контролю, победе и лидерству. Ты видела, как иногда он поступал с Хаксом и боялась на самом деле оказаться на месте бедняги. Хотя тебе хватило бы мозгов не перечить Рену.

— Тогда мне стоит узнать, какого это не проявлять свою силу? Знать, что ты лучше остальных и держать своё превосходство в тайне, при себе. — Он разворачивается, и тогда ты смотришь в его глаза всего пару секунд, прежде чем подумать, что тебе следует бежать.

Мгновение, ты откидываешь его взмахом руки. Это не так сильно, чтобы заставить Рена отключиться. Ты сразу же выбегаешь из комнаты.

Кайло мог предположить разное. Однако он никогда до конца не мог прочесть твоих мыслей.

Стекло позади него треснуло, когда его затылок ударился. В глазах даже потемнело всего на пару секунд и зрению с трудом удалось сфокусироваться. Либо ты плохо контролировала свою силу и не рассчитала её, либо владела ею даже слишком хорошо.

Твои ботинки слегка скользят, когда ты направляешься к своей комнате. Тебе нужно было забрать пару вещей, а затем бежать к ангарам, чтобы слинять с корабля Первого ордена.

И у тебя не хватает времени. Кайло уже успел дать приказ о том, чтобы тебя схватили.

Стоит тебе столкнуться со штурмовиками, ты включаешь свой меч. Тебе не нужно много времени, чтобы отбиться, сиреневый свет освещает твоё лицо, когда ты убиваешь ещё несколько штурмовиков.

Выключив оружие, ты бежишь по коридору, надеясь как можно быстрее добраться до возможности вернуться к Сопротивлению.

Но тебе это не удаётся.

Это происходит быстрее, чем ты можешь заметить. Ты не видишь Кайло, но ты чувствуешь его силу на себе. Как он прижимает тебя к стене за шею.

Твои ботинки отрываются от пола. Ты всё ещё крепко сжимаешь свой меч, но учитывая, что Кайло недостаточно близко, сейчас твоё оружие бесполезно. Стоит Верховному Лидеру наконец появиться перед тобой, твоё зрение размывается, а горло горит. Ты даже ничего не можешь сказать, когда он забирает твой меч, через твои жалкие попытки сопротивления.

— Мы могли просто поговорить, — произносит он.

Единственное, что проносится у тебя в голове, это то, что ты никогда бы не смогла переговорить с монстром. И учитывая его изменившееся выражение лица, он явно был у тебя в голове и услышал это.

Тьма постепенно поглощает тебя, и ты сдаёшься ей.

Подхватив тебя на руки, Рен направляется туда, где вас не побеспокоили бы.

***

Ты приходишь в себя в комнате, где раньше никогда не была. То, что это звёздный корабль Первого ордена – очевидно. Это явно не была комната для допросов, но учитывая решётки и скудные размеры комнаты, ты могла предположить, что это камера для задержания.

Тебе не долго приходится ждать Кайло. Он выглядит немного взволнованным, хотя ты всё ещё ожидаешь от него применения насилия к тебе.

— Твой меч, — произносит Кайло, показывая его. — Он сиреневый. Послали шпионить тебя, потому что именно тебе легче было бы притвориться одной из приспешников тёмной стороны?

Ты не уверена, как должна себя вести, чтобы остаться в живых.

— Ты убьёшь меня?

Кайло не сомневался в том, что тебя следует сохранить в живых. Он не может тебя убить, и уж тем более отпустить, после того как ты раскрылась.

— Нет. Хотя мне стоило, учитывая, кем ты была всё это время. — Он прожигает тебя взглядом, замечая, как сильно ты пытаешься сохранять спокойствие и анализировать своё положение. Неужели ты собиралась попытаться сбежать? Все в Сопротивление были такими вечно буйными и брыкающимися? — Ты не обучалась у Скайуокера. Кто научил тебя управлять силой?

— Мой отец.

Кайло задумывается всего на пару секунд, но лишь кивает.

— Ты не позволяешь проникнуть в свои мысли, — произносит он. — Пока ты не заснёшь.

— Ты читал мои мысли?

— Это было не так сложно, когда ты лежишь два дня в без сознания и не приходишь в себя.

Ты удивлена тому, что не просыпалась так долго. Но всё же тебя больше расстраивает то, что Рен теперь знает о том, что у тебя в голове. И это злит тебя, страх сменяется гневом. Поэтому ты применяешь свою силу, залезая в голову Кайло, пытаясь проникнуть в его мысли, в самую глубь.

И тогда он через силу, пытаясь сопротивляться тебе, но без результата. Он открывает твою дверь. Ты видишь, как испарины появляются на его лбу, как его глаза блестят от злости, пока он прожигает тебя взглядом.

— Ты не сможешь сбежать с корабля, — произносит он.

— Мне и не нужно. — Забирая свой меч, ты прожигаешь Кайло взглядом. — Может мне просто стоит прикончить тебя? Стать героем, прекратить войну.

— Ты не сделаешь этого.

— Почему? — Тебе �� впрямь интересно, пока ты продолжаешь держать Кайло неподвижным, запрещая ему хоть немного двинуться.

— Потому что ты могла бы получить, намного больше присоединившись ко мне. Получить больше власти и силы, чем дало тебе Сопротивление.

Ты задумываешься, не понимая с чего он решил, что ты могла бы присоединиться к нему.

— Должно быть, ты меня с кем-то путаешь. — Ты прилагаешь силу, заставляя Кайло отлететь назад. Теперь он бьётся об стену намного сильнее.

И у тебя больше шансов сбежать, чем в прошлый раз.

[mrs-gucci]

It’s Just Politics (Part 1 of 2)

Commander Mills x senator!Reader (f)

written for my welcome back celebration, phase one. 

y’all voted, y’all wanted me to write some more Mills, so here I am :) this is part one of two, so enjoy the beginning of the story and get excited for part two which will be coming soon!!

content warnings. accidentally walking in on someone naked (he walks in on her), implied/mentioned age difference (gap not specified, Mills is 36)

word count: 3.4k (...whoops)

summary~ Commander Mills reluctantly takes a last-minute job captaining the Senator of Somaris’s personal ship on a flight to Cyllene for this year’s galactic policy conference. Both of them get much, much more than they bargained for...but they’re not necessarily complaining about it.

"You're kidding me."

Jai shakes his head, continuing to submit order forms for ship parts.

"I'm dead serious, man. Travis wants you to do it, it'll pay well, and you won't be gone for that long. At least two weeks, it's just to Cyllene for the annual galactic policy conference. Simple."

"Nothing is ever simple with her, you know that. She's impossible to deal with." Mills huffs. "What happened to her captain? Why can't he do it?"

"Dunno. I think he transferred or is off on a long-range mission. I can't remember, but you should take it. Even though the Senator is a bit of a difficult client, she has a lot of power and could easily help you get a higher-paying job."

Mills knows Jai is right. He should take this job; he needs the money after paying for Nevine's treatments. He has to continue supporting his wife even if their marriage is a bit on the rocks.

"Fine," he says after a moment. "I'll tell Travis that I'll take the job."

Jai smiles, walking past his coworker and giving him a pat on the back as he does so. He lets out a soft chuckle. "Good man. Just...try not to kill her, okay?"

Mills hums, smiling ever so slightly.

"No promises."

***

"Are all of my dresses packed properly?" you ask the service droid as it begins to load your things onto the dolly. "It's of the utmost importance that they not be wrinkled. I want to represent Somaris to the best of my ability at this year's conference."

"Yes, Mistress," the droid says. "I made sure to pack each one myself."

You nod slightly. "Good. Thank you, I always appreciate your hard work, PZ."

"Of course. I am always at your service, Senator."

PZ finishes loading the bags and quickly takes them to the royal vessel while you prepare for the long journey ahead. You always hate going up into space, but unfortunately, it's an integral part of your job, so you have to do it more often than you'd prefer.

You walk to the docking bay, and you stop as soon as you see him walking towards your ship.

"You're kidding me."

Mills huffs out a soft laugh as he passes you. "Yeah, that's what I said too."

"Tell me you're not the one flying the ship. Please, please tell me you're not in charge of this trip--" You catch up to him.

"I need the money, alright?" Mills says, jaw clenching. "That's the only reason I agreed to it. Trust me, I wish I didn't have to, but there's hardly any work for pilots right now."

"No need to give me your whole life story, Mills. I won't cry you a river like others may have."

You roll your eyes and walk towards the ship ramp, immediately colliding with him. Apparently, he decided to step forward at that exact moment that you did. You huff and leave him in the dust, boarding the ship and immediately going to your sleeping quarters. 

This'll be an interesting journey, that much you're sure of...

***

For the third time in the thirty minutes you've been flying, your water glass nearly falls onto the floor as the ship suddenly jerks to the side, then a bit downward, before returning to a steady state. You shut the computer off and walk to the cockpit, immediately hearing Mills's grumblings as he reaches across the controls console. 

"I know you dislike me, but I didn't think you'd try any sort of murder attempt until much later in the trip," you say, crossing your arms as you stand in the doorway. "And I must say, I'm extremely disappointed in your efforts thus far."

Mills's jaw clenches once again. And here he was, starting to relax now that he's mostly figured out the new controls...

"For now, I figured having you get sick would be satisfying enough," he says, turning around to look at you. "The murder attempts will be much more obvious, I assure you. Plus, keeping you alive until after the conference is in my best interest, so I get paid for at least half of the trip."

You chuckle dryly. "Fair point. Now, are you sure that all of your licenses and qualifications aren't expired? Because you're flying this ship almost as badly as I do, and I don't have any licenses."

"I've never flown a ship with such unnecessarily complicated controls," he replies simply. "This is a class of ship I'm not used to handling."

"Mm, mhm. Sure, my ship's definitely the problem. You could never be at fault for not having flown a diverse range of ships in your many years of being a pilot...because you're old."

He huffs. "Really, you're resorting to calling me 'old' now? You can't find any more halfway decent or clever comebacks in your apparently vast bank of them?"

You smirk slightly. "So you admit that my comebacks are clever and good?"

"No, I said they're clever and halfway decent," he says, unable to help the tiny upward twitch of the corner of his mouth. "Big difference. Also, I'm not old."

"Everyone who's old tried to say they're not old. If you're over 40, you're officially old."

"How old do you think I am?" He looks back at you.

"I dunno," you shrug. "Like 40."

"Fuck, I'm 36," he grumbles, turning back to flip a switch on the panel. "Go back to your quarters, Senator. I'll try to keep the ship under control, although I doubt it'll be to your very high standards."

You turn and begin to walk away. Suddenly, the ship dips again, and you nearly lose your balance, falling into the wall. You whip your head around and hear the softest of chuckles from the cockpit, rolling your eyes at the sound.

"Just do your damn job, Mills."

***

Mills sighs as he flips the autopilot switch and prepares to head off to his sleeping quarters. He probably should've asked where his quarters were before takeoff, but honestly, he didn't even think of it at the time. He was too busy dealing with you.

As much as he hates to admit it, you actually intrigue him. You're young, beautiful, and incredibly hard-headed. All qualities he saw in his wife when he first met her.

Several doors line the hallway, and Mills picks the one closest to the cockpit. It opens, and it's a closet filled to the brim with luggage and garment bags. He huffs, then shuts it promptly.

He moves to the next door, already mentally checking out for the night. When it opens, his eyes widen. 

You're standing completely bare, applying your body lotion before you dress for bed. You turn around and gasp, quickly covering your breasts before turning away.

"Get out!"

Mills, for a moment, can't bring himself to move. Fuck, it's been a while since he's seen a naked woman, and you're so--

"GET OUT!" you exclaim, looking back at Mills. "OUT!!"

He suddenly snaps back into reality, muttering an apology before shutting the door and letting out a shaky breath. He tries to commit it all to memory: how your skin shone in the dim lamplight, your plump breasts and hardened nipples, the beautiful curve of your hips...

Turning away, he walks to the final door in the hall, which contains a small cot. He puts his things into the small dresser and tries not to revisit his memories of your body. It's highly inappropriate for him to lust after a woman years his junior, especially since he hates you, and you two have yet to have a non-argumentative conversation.

Suddenly, the door slides open as Mills takes off his shirt. He turns around and sees you, now dressed in a nightgown, looking absolutely infuriated. But he doesn't miss how your eyes dart down his body momentarily.

"What is wrong with you??" You ask angrily, glaring up at him. "Why didn't you close the door right away? Why'd you keep looking at me? Are you some kind of pervert or something?"

He huffs, turning away from you.

"No, I'm not a pervert. I just froze up for a moment. I was surprised. I thought the room would be empty...it won't happen again. It was an accident."

"Mhm. Aren't you married? How would your wife feel if she saw you staring like that?"

"Yeah, well, she and I aren't exactly on the same page these days," he says, pulling his sleep shirt on before turning to you again. "So what, you wanna see my dick, make us even?"

Well, kind of.

You huff, crossing your arms. "No," you say. "Because I'm a lady and would never do anything like that."

Mills chuckles. "Mhm. You just keep telling yourself that."

He reaches for the pants resting over his hips. "If you're such a lady, I suggest you head out before you see anything improper. God forbid."

"Goodnight to you too, Captain."

***

Mills's quarters are open when you pass by, so who wouldn't be curious about what secret life this guy could be living? You look around, then step inside. It's very basic; he's brought almost nothing personal. Well, almost nothing. You spot a holoprojector lying on his bed.

Is the great Commander Mills enjoying some pornography during his downtime?

Chuckling softly at the thought, you pick it up carefully and turn it on, purely out of curiosity. What comes up is incredibly unexpected. It's a young girl playing with a toy ship. Suddenly, it clicks in your mind: this is his daughter. Before she…

You scroll to the next one, and the next, and the next, watching only a few seconds of each. Then, you reach one where she's looking much sickly. She's got a nasal cannula in, and her cough, which you noticed throughout the videos, is much worse.

And then, you flip to the very last side. It's the voice of your wife, hand on your daughter's lifeless one.

Oh no—

"What are you doing?"

You gasp softly, startled at the sound. He's calm, but a certain edge to his voice sends a little chill down your spine.

"I-I..." you don't have an answer. "I thought this was something--"

"Give that to me," he snaps, snatching it from your hands and turning it off. "This is my quarters, my personal space. What's so hard to understand about that, huh?!"

You open your mouth to speak. He doesn't allow it.

"I would never think to step into your room and look through your belongings. You think just because you're a senator that you outrank me and can do whatever the fuck--"

"That's not it!" you say suddenly. "It was wrong, alright? I'm sorry. I made a mistake. I let my curiosity get the best of me. I didn't think you'd have anything like that."

For a moment, Mills is genuinely surprised at your quick admittance of guilt. He thought you'd surely make up some bullshit excuse as to why you're in here looking through his daughter's holo memories.

Just seeing that bit of the final holo of his daughter already has him tearing up, but there's no way in the galaxy he's gonna cry in front of you. He looks away, setting the holoprojector back down on the top of his dresser.

"Go."

You're at a loss for words. Look at what you've done; you've violated his privacy and forced him to relive such an awful memory. All because you wanted to get some dirt on him. It all seems silly and stupid now. "Look, Mills, I'm really--"

Tears are threatening to slip down his cheeks. He needs you to leave before you see him break down.

"Leave!" he snaps again, although his voice is much shakier this time. "Leave me a-alone!"

You swallow harshly, then walk back towards the door. You pause for a moment, looking back at him, seeing how his whole body shakes as he tries to keep his sobs.

"I'm truly sorry."

He says nothing, waiting until the door closes to let out the quiet but violent cries he's been holding in.

*

When dinner rolls around, you sit in the same seat you usually do at the small table. Except there's no sign of Mills anywhere. He's stayed on the bridge with the door shut all day. PZ brings out your meal, then sets Mills's down at his usual spot. 

"Where is the Captain?" PZ asks. "Will he not be joining you for dinner this evening?"

You shrug slightly, looking over at the bridge door. "I don't know, PZ. He hasn't left his pilot's seat all day."

"Well, perhaps I should--"

"No," you interrupt. "You don't wanna irritate him. He's had a rough day. I'll take it to him if he doesn't come out."

PZ nods, then walks back to continue checking on your dresses. You sigh softly and eat alone, occasionally looking over at the door. Nothing.

You really don't wanna take the food in, but you know it's the right thing to do. Plus, it'll give you time to hopefully apologize again for earlier without him yelling or getting too upset.

With a deep breath, you press the 'open' button, and the door whooshes, revealing the tall back of the pilot's chair. Various controls on the panel flash and beep. He reaches over to silence them.

"Yes?"

You step forward. "I have your dinner. I figured you wouldn't wanna come out to eat with me--"

"A correct assumption."

"...so I brought your dinner in here."

He nods. "Thank you."

You set the plate down to the side.

"Look, I'm really sorry about what happened earlier," you say sincerely. "It wasn't my place to snoop around your quarters, and I apologize. I also...I didn't know about your daughter. I'm sorry about that, too."

Mills says nothing but turns around in the chair to look at you. After a moment, he nods slightly. "Thank you for apologizing. And I'm sorry that I snapped like that. It's just a hard thing for me to revisit."

"Of course, and I completely understand why you reacted the way you did. I deserved that, but you didn't deserve to have your private life violated like that. I'm sorry, truly. I feel terrible about it."

He's very much surprised by your sudden remorse and show of emotion. You rarely soften like this, and it makes him wonder if he's jumped to conclusions too soon. Maybe you're not always the hard-ass, demanding, a stubborn politician you make yourself out to be. 

"All is forgiven, Senator. I promise it's alright. I appreciate you apologizing."

You nod, offering him a small smile. "Great. I'd hate for us to be on shitty terms for the rest of the journey."

"Agreed," Mills nods. "Thanks for bringing my dinner. I'll see you tomorrow, Senator."

"See you tomorrow, Captain."

***

"Wait, wait..." you start, huffing softly. "You're telling me we have to stop on Zexade for fuel? I thought this ship could carry enough fuel for the entire journey. I've never had this problem before."

"There's a first time for everything," Mills replies simply, flicking a few switches on the dashboard. "We had to take an alternate route around a nebula, which took more fuel than anticipated. Zexade should have what we need."

"How long is that gonna take? We cannot be late to this conference, Mills. It's super important that we arrive on time--"

"You'll get there on time, Senator. You insisted we leave two days earlier than we needed to. Do you not remember that?"

Your jaw clenches. "I recall that, yes. But I've been late before, and it was absolutely humiliating. I want to be sure I'm there in advance to begin talking with the other senators."

"The refueling stop shouldn't take more than a few hours. We're on schedule to arrive on Cyllene early." He rolls his eyes. "There's no need to worry about anything. I have it all under--"

A loud crash is heard, and the ship lurches. You stumble, quickly gripping the wall for support.

"Everything's under control, huh?" you ask bitterly. "Then what in the world was that?"

The control panel and the proximity sensor start beeping frantically, and Mills groans. He was worried that something like this would happen. More shots are fired at the ship, and he dodges most of them.

"Get out of here! Strap into a chair or something!"

"What is it? Why are they shooting at the ship--"

Another bold hits the ship and takes a few pieces of paneling off. You nearly fall again.

"Pirates," he says. "They want the ship to salvage and possibly take us hostage for ransom money. Now get into a seat before you get hurt!"

You run back towards the emergency seats, but then you see the hatch for the gunner position. You know at that moment what you need to do. The ship dips again, and you fall into the wall with a soft groan, but you climb into the gunner seat before any more sudden jerks.

Mills' eyebrows furrow when he hears static from a headset hanging on top of a control panel. He lifts it up and puts it on, thinking it could be some sort of communication from the pirates.

"Get me into position," you say, flipping switches and pressing buttons rapidly, warming up the guns. "I can take them out."

"What the fuck are you doing down there?! I told you to strap in--"

"Fuck strapping in; I'm not just gonna sit there and wait for you to let the ship be torn apart. These pirates are gonna take us out if we don't put up some sort of defense."

He knows he should focus on the pirates, but he's still trying to wrap his head around that you apparently know how to operate the gunner position. He's also trying to wrap his head around that he's about to take commands from you.

"Alright, alright," he says, adjusting the headset quickly before swerving more shots. "Do you have a shot?"

Your jaw clenches. "Do you think, if I had a shot, I would have told you to get me into position?!"

This is gonna be harder than he thought.

"Can we save the biting wit and snarky remarks for when we're not getting shot at by pirates, please?!"

"Fine," you huff. "I've almost got a shot on one of the ships. Take a sharp left and drop her down a bit."

He does what you say, and you quickly shoot the pirate ship down, which explodes and takes another one out. You smirk, mentally high-fiving yourself. 

"Suck it!" you say into the microphone, forgetting that it's on. "You just got shot down by a fucking senator, losers!! Ha ha!"

Mills listens and allows a slight smile to tug at the corners of his mouth.

"Your mic is still on, Senator. But thank you for that wonderful piece of audio," he says, looking over at the proximity map. There are two more ships left. "I'm gonna pull up really hard and try to get you a clear shot on the two smaller fighters. Can you do that?"

Your cheeks warm with embarrassment. "Y-Yeah, yeah, of course, I can. Just get me into position, and I'll take care of the rest."

"Good." He chuckles softly and suddenly pulls up, accelerating rapidly. 

You keep your hands on the trigger buttons, holding on tightly as the ship climbs almost directly upwards. The pirate fighters are obviously confused but follow, climbing with us. 

“Do a corkscrew maneuver!” You say into the mic. "Now!"

"What?! You want me to do a what?! You're crazy!"

You growl softly. "Trust me, just do it!!"

Mills grips the steering wheel tightly and begins to spin the ship around and around, cursing you in his head as he begins to feel nauseous. Your eyes narrow, and you shoot at the vessels, hitting one, then the other. 

"I got 'em! We're clear!"

He slows, returns the ship to the usual level state, and sighs, running a hand through his hair. Goddamn, that was fucking crazy. You're...incredibly quick on your feet, and you ultimately made the right call. 

Between your genuine apology and this sudden show of badassery, it's almost hard to believe that Mills is starting to actually like you. He'll never admit that part out loud, but it's true.

You emerge from the hatch and walk to the cockpit, releasing shaky breaths. The adrenaline is still flowing as you head towards Mills' chair.

"So..." you start. He turns and looks at you, and you offer him a teasing smile. "How much longer to Zexade?"

-- part two (upcoming) --

general taglist: @mrs-zimmerman​

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◆ wanna join? here’s the link: adcu taglist ◆

[earlgreydream]

SAVIOR. | Kylo Ren x reader

Some enemies to lovers(?) on Mustafar, for my love, @little-diable

for @little-diable's 15k celebration ... Kylo Ren, Smut, Page 66 ..... „The air felt hot and dusty.” From The Southern Book Club’s Guide to Slaying Vampires

cw: dubcon

Mustafar.

You were naive to think you could escape.

The air felt hot and dusty, choking you as you ran through burning trees. It felt like every nightmare you’d ever had — the ones you couldn’t wake up from, knowing you were prey with nowhere to run. Your heart slammed in your chest, pulse echoing in your ears as your wild eyes darted around, desperately searching for an escape.

Limbs of trees reached out to scratch you as you ran through the forest fire, everything a haze of red. Desperation to outrun those who scorched the planet made you fearful, knowing there was no real escape.

“You’ve got nowhere to run, rebel.”

The words echoed in your mind, not spoken aloud, but directly to you, through a divine power. Invisible hands halted your attempt to escape, slamming your body into the ground.

Kylo Ren watched you fight to breathe as you inhaled the dust, unable to escape the grasp of his force. He towered over you, face-to-face for the first time since Coruscant, when you were still undercover as a member of the First Order.

“Don't do this, Ren,” you hissed, staring up at the supreme leader, who had burnt down the planet and everything in it just to catch you.

“You’ll be made an example to anyone who dares to defy me,” Kylo swore, the hot blade of his lightsaber singing just inches from your throat.

Your chest heaved, wild eyes watching Kylo, waiting for his red fire to cut through you. The summer heat filled you with dread, watching Kylo stand over you with hate in his eyes.

Coruscant.

Things were different, then. What transpired only months ago seemed to be an entirely different life, lived by someone else. In a sense, it was.

Coruscant was the mission you never wanted. When you’d dedicated your life to the resistance, you didn’t anticipate being sent undercover to infiltrate the First Order. You wore the mask of an enemy, blending in and becoming someone else until you forgot who you were entirely.

The objective was simple: move your way up in the First Order, and gain the trust of Kylo Ren. Your mission was to gather intel to feed back to the resistance; when your commanders had assigned it, they pictured you sitting in meetings, taking notes on the outskirts of Kylo’s militia. At the time, the Jedi order thought they could trust you, and you thought you could trust them. Before Coruscant, you had no idea of the power you possessed, the power the rebellion kept a secret from you.

When Kylo Ren first laid eyes on you, the plan crumbled to dust. The moment you stepped into the throne room, you could feel it — the pull of the force pricking the edges. Kylo felt it too, your heart beating in sync as he failed to pry into your mind like he did with every other being.

“Leave us.” The command to the knights was sharp, the room clearing until you were the only one standing before him.

“Where have you come from?” Kylo Ren had once seemed menacing on his throne, adorned in a crimson glow. Now, his expression was pure curiosity, gazing at you with startlingly disarming eyes.

“Naboo, master Ren,” the reverence came naturally, and you found yourself lowering to your knees at his throne.

“It is an honor to serve The First Order,” your voice sounded foreign on your lips, speaking words you never intended to say.

Kylo reached forward, tilting your chin up until he held your gaze, studying every detail of your unfamiliar face. He was captivated by you, your mystique raised curiosity, not alarm. Nothing happened on his ship that he didn’t know about, but you, a young soldier from Naboo was unexpected.

“You wield the force?” He questioned, puzzled by the inability to tear apart your thoughts.

“No, master.”

“But you can, padawan, you’ve just not been taught,” Kylo answered, having no knowledge of the crack he’d sent through your alliances.

The Jedi order would have recognized the great power you possessed, even as you didn’t recognize it in yourself. Your gifts had been kept a secret, but here was Kylo Ren, a man meant to be your enemy, offering truth and guidance you were deprived of. The resistance and its leaders had deceived you, a betrayal far deeper than a political alliance. They had kept you from destiny, fearing that the ability to wield the force would lead you into darkness, having no idea you would one day learn to harness your power from the ruler of the Empire.

“I can show you the ways of the force," Kylo’s voice was smooth, pulling you to his outstretched hand, an invitation to leave everything else behind and stand at his side.

You didn't recognize yourself in the reflection of Kylo's eyes. Instinctively, you took Kylo's outstretched hand, letting him pull you to your feet.

.

"You have had no teacher?" Kylo questioned, the two of you standing in an empty room in the Star Destroyer.

He looked so different out of his suit, more relaxed in simple training robes. Here, Kylo didn't seem to be the menacing overlord that you'd once saw. With you, he was different, an attentive and guiding master.

"No," you shook your head, confliction slowly eating away at you.

The more hours you spent learning from Kylo, the less you wanted betray him. Your alliance to the order you'd spent a lifetime fighting for was broken, and now you sought solace in him. Your allegiance to Kylo bloomed as your abilities grew, and the hard walls around him slowly came down, letting you in. Even as he opened up about who he was, you kept the secret of your origin, praying every night that he didn't have to find out.

Your lost soul found a home in Coruscant, lines blurring between you and Kylo as you spent intimate hours meditating and practicing. His hands that were once your waist to position your body, guided you until you found yourself pressed between Kylo’s strong body and his mattress. 

The first time Kylo took you to his bed, he was tender, attentive to your pleasure. As your addiction to him grew, so did the constant need for one another. You begged Kylo to fuck you with his hand around your throat, bending you over the closest surface because you couldn’t get enough. Every second with Kylo was sexually charged, craving him like a drug. He was your teacher, your solace, your lover, and your savior — before you knew it, Kylo became everything to you. 

Kylo Ren changed when you entered his existence. He had never experienced a love like you, constantly starving for your touch. 

In a year, everything fell apart. 

You’d long forgotten the Jedi, your allegiance, and your mission, until the day they invaded Coruscant. What you would never be able to forget was the betrayal on Kylo's face when they called you their commander. You could no longer run to your savior, nor to your fellow jedi, so you ran away, alone, to Mustafar.

.

Mustafar.

You wrists were held behind your back with imperial binders, and you were completely naked - save the collar that Kylo had clasped around your throat. You glared up at him from your kneeling position at his feet, chest heaving as you struggled against his force keeping you still at his mercy.

Part of you yearned to throw yourself at him, begging for forgiveness, explaining to him that you had abandoned the resistance to follow him. You ached to tell him that every night you spent in bed with Kylo made you fall more in love with him, that you'd rather perish than live without him another day, but the words died in your throat.

Your words would do no use anyways - Kylo had made up his mind to make an example out of you, to humiliate you before the entire First Order.

Your skin burned as you felt the eyes of his knights on your body as they filed into the room, taking their places around the table. You couldn't hide from them, your sins and entire self exposed to those you once ruled over.

"Our little rebel traitor is going to pay for her sins," Kylo's voice was ice cold, sending a shudder down your spine.

Instinctively, you leaned back into Kylo's legs, subconsciously searching for shelter. He grabbed the back of your neck in one of his large hands, hauling you to your feet, dark eyes blazing down at you, starvation and thirst clouding his judgement.

"Get on the fucking table, now," he growled, manhandling you onto the cold metal surface, your wrists above your head as you laid spread out.

"Since you'll sell yourself to the jedi and the empire, my knights can have you as well."

He sank back into his throne, draped lazily over the armrests, legs parted to reveal how hard he was just from the sight of your nude form dripping on the table.

You strained against the binders on your wrists, hating yourself for how wet you were just knowing Kylo was watching, the knights pulling your legs apart as one knelt between your legs.

You helplessly watched Kylo as Vicrul's hands wrapped around your soft thighs, his tongue warm and wet against your sex, pulling a pathetic whine from your lips. You hated him for it - hating him for making your hips raise, begging for more as he ate you out, sucking on your clit and pushing thick fingers inside of you. Your muscles contracted around you, other knights groping your body, playing with your nipples and gagging you with their fingers.

Meanwhile, Kylo watched, freeing himself from the black trousers that hugged his thick thighs. You watched as he stroked his cock to the sight of you, fighting not to come immediately from the filthy noises the knights pried from your parted lips.

You ached for him to fill you, your cunt throbbing with need, despite the overwhelming touch of the knights, ripping orgasms from you despite how hard you fought against it. Before you could stop yourself, you were crying out to him, calling his name as your back arched off the table, gasping for air.

Your ears were ringing, and all at once the knights retreated from you, exiled from the room by Kylo. He stood abruptly, dark robes falling from his shoulders, his strong body fully on display for you. You felt the binders release your wrists, and you pulled your limbs to your body, trembling on the cold table.

"I didn't betray you," you rasped, knowing Kylo could read your mind, prying through your thoughts and your memories, allowing him in.

He said nothing, approaching you slowly. Kylo grasped your jaw, holding your head up, forcing you to look him in the eye.

"You will never run from me again."

"Yes, master."

Kylo's lips were hot and heavy against yours, pulling you into his body, kissing you violently. He'd had every intention to take you back to his chambers, but the second you touched, he couldn't resist, climbing over you on the table in his throne room.

His hand hooked under your knee, pushing it to your shoulder, rubbing the head of his cock against your entrance. He ignored your whimpering pleas, taking his time, marking your throat with his lips. All the air left your lungs as he finally pushed inside you, much bigger than all of the knights who had violated you only moments before.

Your back arched as he split you open, pressing your chest to his, your hands pulling his thick black hair. He bottomed out, his hips pressed against your ass. Kylo hushed you, wrapping an arm around your torso before fucking you at a blistering pace. It was desperate and violent with need, tearing you apart for leaving him, and putting you back together all at once. You felt his velvety skin drag against your walls with every thrust, Kylo using the force to circle your clit so he could keep both hands on you.

His skin was slick with sweat, black hair sticking to his forehead as he moaned, biting your shoulder and burying his face in you, his thrusts stuttering as he filled you until cum was spilling out and smearing between your thighs.

"I'm not finished with you," he panted as you sank back into the surface, trying to catch your breath.

Kylo flipped you over so he was lying on his back, your knees on either side of his wide hips. You could barely hold yourself up, muscles shaking as you leaned over him.

"Kylo, I can't—"

"Ride me." He commanded, leaving no room for argument or protest.

He reached up and wrapped his hand around your throat, holding you up as you rolled your hips, feeling his cock twitch inside you, moving easily despite your trembling thighs.

"Look at me. Watch yourself take your master," Kylo's other hand lightly smacked your cheek, prompting you to open your eyes, holding his gaze for a long moment.

You wrapped your hands around his wrist for leverage, thankful his other hand was helping your hips, before obeying his wish. Your gaze fell, watching him disappear inside your body every time you sank down, feeling him set fire to every nerve ending in your body, your limbs screaming for release. Kylo held your weight, guiding you to finish until you collapsed on his chest, aftershocks shuddering through your weakened body.

"You'll have to earn back your place at my side," he tilted your chin up, dark eyes showing the slightest bit of mercy.

"I'll do anything," you breathed, chasing his mouth for a kiss.

"Start by getting on your knees."

[jfksbrainmatter]

how’s mama? ;)

adam driver x reader

genre : fluff 🧸

summary : you are laying in bed, heavily pregnant and sleeping. your husband, adam driver, wakes you after he came home from work and accidentally reminds you of your pregnancy and impending due date. freaking you out.

author note : this based on a really cute tiktok i saw bc i couldn’t stop thinking about it 😓

content warning : pregnancy, talk of birth, anxiety, age gap (reader is like mid 20’s-early 30’s and adam is late 40’s) and reader cries (for like a sec bc hormones)

warm, kind hands stroking your arm wake you up. your eyes flutter open as you shift in bed, smiling as you notice adam kissing your forehead. “mmmmm..hi baby~” you mewl, shifting to turn toward him, leaning up to kiss him.

“hi sweetheart..” adam leans down and meets you halfway in the kiss, stroking back your hair. “how’s mama doin’ ..?” you furrow your brows and tilt your head, confused til you look down. your lips quiver as you remember the impending child in your belly. eyes filling with tears, you look back up at adam, seeing his small frown.

“what’s wrong lovey..?” he asks with concern. everything, you wanna say. but you don’t. you sniffle and blink back the tears, “m’having a baby…” you whimper. adam smiles in amusement at your shaky voice.

“yeah you are hun..” he strokes your cheek to calm you down. you shake your head and whine, cupping your bump as you remember all the weight and life inside you. your grogginess is gone. replaced with anxiety and…fear..?

you don’t know but what you do know is that you’re crying freely now. adam lies next to you and cradles your bump with you, kissing your cheek and holding your head to his chest.

“shhhh..babygirl calm down, you’re gonna be okay…you’re alright, just breathe..” adam coos, calming you down. he’s very good at calming you down most times but the tears won’t stop flowing. damn hormones. you pull back and whine, wiping your eyes and rubbing them tiredly.

“a-adam i- i can’t give birth i can’t…what if i go into labor without you here? what if- what if i go into labor early?? i- im scared adam.” you whimper, sniffling and hiding into him. suddenly you stop, breathing slowly as you feel your baby stir, getting more settled. adam kisses you softly to stop your rambling, wiping your tears away softly.

“you will be ready my love. i will be there and- and you are so prepared honeybun...you have the nursery ready, all the baby clothes and the books and toys~” he smiles and laughs softly, rubbing your bump. he slides further down the bed to wrap his arms around your waist, listening and feeling for kicks from the baby. “i’m ready. i feel like you are too, almost.” he smiles and kisses your bump as the baby kicks against his lips, his laughs rumbling through the room.

you crack a smile at his happy laugh, stroking a hand through his hair as the baby kicks against their daddy’s hand. “i think they missed you.” you wipe your tears and sigh, calming down into your husband’s embrace.

he smiles giddily and lays his head against the bump, closing his eyes in content happiness. he loves his tiny family. “do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl..?” he asks, excited about a baby either way.

“mmmm i don’t care..as long as they’re healthy.” you whisper in response, kissing adam’s hair. he sighs and sinks into you, exhaustion finally sinking into him from his long work day.

“what do you want for dinner tonight baby..?” he asks, having taken over the responsibility of dinner. he’s staring at your large bump as he speaks, almost like he’s talking to the little human in you.

“mmmm…i think they want your ‘world famous’ burgers~ and fries…and a chocolate milkshake from that one place-!!” you speak excitedly, the craving coming on quickly from the baby in your uterus (who needs to pay rent by now).

“then that’s what mama’s gonna get.” he smiles and stands, walking to the kitchen to make his delicious food for his very, very pregnant wife.

[peterparkersnose]

Two Ghosts

pairing: kylo ren x queen!reader 

word count: 2.6k

warnings: neglect, arranged marriage, dislike of s/o, reader has children, descriptions of periods, domestic abuse, old values (women are dainty bullshit), guys kylo isn’t nice remember that, fertility issues, stopping of a period due to stress, reader lives for her children basically, reader obviously has anxiety, reader is basically breaded for heirs, kylo is awkward (the dude doesn’t have social skills. at all. whatsoever), even though he still has some rizz (call him kylo rizz if you would), a good ending? idk guys remember kylo just isn’t a great person and the first order isn’t a good organization too

a/n a long warning list 😬. anyways i never get notes on kylo fics but i simply do not care. i love writing new content for this man. he deserves it all.

summary Kylo tries being the husband Y/N always wanted him to be

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 9 mins 40 seconds

Watching you felt almost wrong. The neglect he’s given you through the years- the pain you’ve felt and him not caring about you for as long as he’s known you.

He didn’t deserve to watch this beautiful sight of his family, the family he didn’t even want. The family he wasn’t even apart of. You two were an arranged marriage, married for political reasons. He needed an heir, your father needed peace on your home planet. You and your children had always been a nuisance to him. 

You had given up on the romantic attempts years ago. But something in this sight, something about you right then made him sick. Something made him click taking in this view from the balcony on the hill.

For weeks he had longing feelings of sadness. He hated admitting it and rejected it as much as he could, but light was seeping into the cracks. His moods began to lighten softly, not enough for you to notice but enough to scare him. Now looking down and feeling this, it was just a confirmation of what was really happening to him.

The sun shown down on your beautiful yellow dress that was layed out on the grass. Your hair was up in intricate braids due to the heat on Naboo, the tiny loose strands were swaying in the wind. The field you sat in was just off a short cliff, the beautiful rural city and coast were just feet away. The perfect escape between the busy city and the old city. The mansion sat atop the hill, separating the two separate terrains. You were on a vacation and had begged him to come for the sake of his children.

Your oldest son ran around you in circles, playing with a TIE one of his father’s assistants bought him for Christmas. Kylo couldn’t be bothered to celebrate, let alone give gifts. Henry was just shy of his sixth birthday. His blonde hair was messy and in need of a cut sometime soon. His gray tunic and black pants matched his father’s aesthetic a little too much for your liking. Running around, he made engine sounds as the ship would like a typical 5 year old.

Your youngest daughter sat in front if you, playing with some wildflowers she had plucked into an array of ‘jewlery’. She was three. Unlike her brother, she had beautiful strong brown hair. Unbeknownst to you, it completely mirrored her grandmothers. You had her hair in your hands, coming through it with your fingers trying to decide what design to attempt today. Amala squirmed as she attempted to join her brother, but you kept her in place in your lap. She was to learn to be a lady as you were. Her dark pink dress was spread out in front of her.

Kylo watched you as the pit in his stomach felt odd. It had always been empty, but this time something ached inside of it. He had never had any interest in you. The times you ever had sex were intended and resulted in children, exactly what he needed. He cared more about Henry than Amala. Henry was the oldest and the heir to the First Order. But work called. He was never a family man, he was never meant to be a family man.

These feelings continued to conflict him throughout the night.

As the sun set you came in with the children. The nannies took them upstairs and readied them for bed. You took your place at the long dinner table. On the opposite side sat your husband- legally.

Over the years you obviously lusted for other men. You didn’t even dare act on your thoughts, or barely thought the thoughts at all. You knew Kylo would have their heads within seconds. With an absent husband emotionally and physically it was hard. In the first few years of your marriage, you struggled with fertility problems. Life was so lonely without the children. He grew angrier and angrier with you each time you got your cycle and your anxiety got so bad that it soon stopped. Your doctor moved you to separate chambers and eventually Henry was conceived after years of trying.

You felt like a failure before your son was born.

After copious amounts of treatment during your pregnancy, Henry was born. And then a while after that Supreme Leader Snoke granted you permission to have another. An heir and a spare.

You and Kylo sat silently eating your dinner. Over the years, you had perfected your etiquette. No slurping your wine, no scratching of the fork on the plate. At dinner you would mostly go over your thoughts from the day. The tuition papers you had to sign for Henry’s first school next year. Amala refusing to listen to her nanny and requesting her mommy really warmed your heart. The beautiful memory of that day you had spent with the children. The fact that you were doing it alone and was so good at it.

He listened to your thoughts. You knew he did. No datapad, no work bot giving him constant coded updates you didn’t understand. Tonight it was just the two of you. Two strangers eating dinner together. The show, the facade had to go on. Media wise you two were the loveliest couple in the galaxy. In reality, you spoke maybe once a week.

“R-80!” you called from the dining room. Kylo’s head shot up from his plate of food to see you waiting on the cleaner droid. You had finished the meal and was waiting to leave this awkward encounter.

The droid came around and you began to exit the room. His hand deliberately reached out for yours as you walked past him to get to the door.

A tiny gasp escaped your lips. You stopped and pulled your hand back, a concerned look was on display.

You were begging in your mind for this to had been an accident.

“It was no accident,” he said strongly. His deep voice boomed through your ears. You forgot how powerful it could be sometimes.

For the first time in years Kylo was feeling anxiety. Over something so minuscule, speaking to his wife. His eyes met and darted over your face. He recognized the braid pattern in your hair. You had worn it on your wedding day. Rarely he had seen it on you, depending if he even noticed you on the daily. His eyes were drawn to your dark lipstick on the lips that were slightly pursed.

“Your hair-” he said. Your eyes flicked up to the window, looking for any sign of a reflection.

Did he hate it, was he about to tell you to never wear it again? Was a strand so obviously out of place? Hell, why was he even speaking to you in the first place?

“It’s how it was on our wedding day, if I remember correctly.”

You nodded your head. Heat rose to your cheeks. This is the longest conversation you two have had in months.

He stared into your eyes. He forgot just how beautiful you really were. They were still the same as always, but this time with a few unnoticeable lines around them. You refused to meet his gaze, staring forward at the distorted mirroring of the room in the window.

Ten years in with two kids, you had managed to keep up with yourself and your appearances. For what, you really weren’t sure anymore.

“May I be excused? I would like to go check on the children.” you asked, avoiding his eye contact.

“Yes, one moment.” he said, his hand reaching out for yours. You hesitantly took it.

Kylo took a deep breath. Even though he seemed calm and composed, inside of his head the red alarm was going off. The urge to even ask you this went against everything he believed in. The twist in his stomach snapped. He gave in to the light feelings, begging for more after how good he felt after asking you a simple question.

“May I sleep with you in your chambers tonight?”

Your brows furrowed. “D-did you talk to the Supreme Leader? Did he give you permission for another?” you asked him, worried. You loved your children but you had no say in having them. The Supreme Leader could make you give birth to an army if he willed.

“No, no. This isn’t about sex.” he assured you. Of course you assumed it was about sex. It was the only time he ever really spoke to you. A slight relief flew off your shoulders.

You sighed, taking your hand from his. “I’m going to check on the children.”

Your heels clicked down the empty hallway. Something in you secretly hoped that he would follow you to see the children, but you knew your husband.

You were baffled in his sudden change of heart. He hadn’t shared a bed with you since- well, since Amala was conceived. You didn’t deny his request, but neither confirmed it.

Your thoughts kept you company as you walked down the many corridors and hallways of the mansion.

The large door was cracked, left like that by the nannies. They knew your routine better than anyone else. Amala was sleeping closest to the door. The canopy above her bed was swaying from the wind of the open window. Henry was laying on his stomach in a deep sleep, his limbs all sprawled out over the large bed.

A smile rose to your face as you quietly closed the door. Your heart was full once again. No more doubt plagued the poor, confused thing from dinner.

You made your way to your chambers. You passed what you knew was Kylo’s. Shockingly, the door was open. You caught a glimpse of him working at his desk. He looked too large for the thing, trumping the tiny chair in size. The patio was open and the moonlight rushed in, lighting his room ominously.

He caught a glimpse of your flowing yellow dress passing his room. He wanted to finish up a few papers before bed, but in his heart he knew he had to neglect his work for one night.

He mustered up enough courage to knock on your door. A sweet “Coming!” came from inside. Within seconds, your door was open and he was met with your fresh face. You had changed into your night robes and had your natural hair down on your shoulders. The bathroom light was on and he noticed the fresh mint scent coming from your breathe.

Your night maids hadn’t been around yet, he presumed.

Something in your look, your energy died a bit when you saw him.

How had he never noticed? How could all these feelings, these guilt trips be plaguing him now, suddenly? What changed?

“We’re you hoping for a maid?” he asked, following you into the large room. He locked the door behind him.

You sat down back at your vanity, pulling your brush out of the drawer.

“No.” you replied. He knew you were lying.

The bed creaked as Kylo sat down. His dark grey dress pants were perfectly ironed and didn’t crease at the contact. He itched at his black turtleneck, swiping the cuff with his finger. He could hear his watch ticking from his wrist. The room was cold.

“May I ask why you wanted to be here?” you asked, a certain confidence in your voice had occurred. Turning now to face him, you finished brushing your hair and placed your hairbrush back in the drawer.

“Honestly darling, I’m really not sure.”

Darling?

If you weren’t so poised your jaw would have been on the floor.

“Today I saw a sight. You with the kids in the field.”

“Oh Kylo, there children. There’s nothing wrong with them playing in a field if this is what this is about-”

“No. I-”

Kylo Ren had never felt himself speechless before, yet again choking up at the sight of his family he used to despise.

Your tucked your chair back into your vanity. Now standing infront of the cowardly man, you waited for his response.

His hand cradled his forehead as he stared at the floor, watching your perfectly manicured feet come into frame.

That’s when he let his first sob out in years. You quickly embraced him in your arms, his forehead finding a resting place against your stomach. Your hands sprawled over his back in a cautious way. Peeking over ever so slightly, you checked if he had his lightsaber on his belt. Thank the gods he didn’t, you were afraid he would cut you into two.

Nobody had ever seen Kylo Ren cry.

“I don’t understand what you are getting at.” you whispered to him. Another sob came out, you began to rub his back.

“I-I am such a fool.” he managed to speak. His eyes looked up into yours, finally making contact for the first time in forever.

The look on your face was baffled.

“What have I been doing? I have a family- a wife? So much neglect, so much hate. How are you still here, my dear? How have I not driven you away, or driven you to worse? I-I have two children. Two beautiful children I don’t know and such a beautiful wife that I’m strangers with. So many years wasted. How did it take me ten years to see this? How did one small instance make my life come crumbling down around me?” he asked, bawling out his words.

You were speechless.

“I want to learn- please. How do I have such an amazing person with me and I don’t know the slightest thing about her? Tell me, w-what’s your middle name?” he went on, now holding you by the hips and eagerly speaking.

And that’s when it really hit you. You two were strangers.

“Amala,” you muttered out. “Oh! T-that makes so much sense—in our daughter. Her name,”

“What are there names, please tell me.” he seemed to beg.

“Henry Cornelius Benjaq Ren, Amala Charress Bryneri Ren.” you answered, a smile emerging on your lips.

Was this too good to be true?

Kylo was stunned of Henry’s middle name. Benjaq. There was no way you knew of his real name. The coincidence hurt him even more.

“Cornelius and Charress…” he pondered. “They sound so familiar are they…”

“My parents.” you answered him. “King Cornelius! How could I forget? Oh Y/N. I have neglected you for so long. How could you ever forgive me?”

His voice sounded genuine. “It’s definitely going to take time.” you sighed. Suddenly the years of loneliness and suffering flashed back in your mind. You broke away from his embrace and walked to the open balcony, giving him an invitation to follow.

“I will try. Please Y/N, let me.” he begged, following you outside.

The warm air brushed against your cool skin. You sighed, wishing you would wake up from this nightmare and your husband would be back. Did someone poison his food?

The yearning for anyone’s touch seeped into your mind. Watching all the other royal couples around the galaxy, they all seemed to love eachother. Hands touching almost constantly, sneaking a kiss or two at events. It was rare that you even got a photo with Kylo at the parties you would attend.

“I know,” he sighed, taking your hands into his. “I wish I could make it all go away.” he said with remorse.

The waves crashed against the sand. The wind was beginning to pick up. Your hair began to sway in the slight breeze. “Make it then,” you whispered, grazing a hand against his cheek. You dared giving him any sign of affection. You were half expecting him to pull his lightsaber out and cut you in half, just as you thought before. Something felt so wrong, but so right.

You kissed your husband for the first time since your wedding day. His lips were slightly chapped and you could taste the negroni he was drinking at dinner. The moon show down on the both of you, and the feeling he felt seemed to pass on to you. Force sensitive or not, the force was in your favor tonight. You felt the remorse and the pain he had been harboring for years. All the sleepless nights over work and heartache over his past life. You seemed to dilute all of that inside of him. You were the missing piece he was looking for all along. The thing he wanted the least was now his prized possession; his wife, the mother of his children, his Queen, his Empress.

All of that love came back. The feeling of when he was a little boy and still had light into him entered his heart once again. Ben Solo seeped through the cracks of his dark, broken heart.

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy @milly-louise​ 

[be-loved-moon]

[inklore]

garage rooftop

premise: the lines of friendship or something more grow more blurry the longer your eyes move from each mole, his cheek bones, his dark eyes, his lips. and you really don't understand why the two of you hadn't become something more ages ago.

pairing: ben solo x (f)reader

word count: 1k

contents: college au, fluff like this is nothing but fluff with one sexual innuendo and that's it, friends to lovers, quick mention of han being a lackluster dad sorry it's for the plot.

note: let's ignore that i actually wrote this back in april and just never got around to editing it but now that i'm in my driver era i had to come back to it. the title is from this song that i highly rec listening to while reading <3

The way his face morphs into something that was once joyful and silly—the blissed high that paints your cheeks red from laughing too hard over being overheated from how weightless it feels to be laying on the roof of your apartment building. The space decked out with rugs, blankets, and cushions from past and current tenants, mostly college kids like yourselves. 

Making it the perfect place to get high and look up at the sky at night. The city lights outshine the stars, but the clouds—and the strain of ganja Poe recently snagged from his dealer—give the same ethereal effect. 

“Why haven’t we ever...”

“Ever what, Solo? Dated?” There’s a pause between your words, and a slow, sly smirk moves across your lips as you look over at him. “Fucked?” 

The blush painting his cheeks quickly moves down to his neck as he shakes his head in laughter, biting his lower lip to hide whatever feelings are currently making him look like a shy schoolboy—something he was far from. 

It’s the “both. Why haven’t we done any of it?” That makes you both fall silent. That makes the joyfulness fade and something else fill the air the longer the silence spreads between the two of you. 

And it’s not the weirdest question or the wildest thing that’s come out of either of your mouths. 

It’s a question that makes you wonder, why? Seriously why? With the longer you stare at him, the more you take in the nervous tick of his chiseled jaw. The way his dark hair falls into his face each time he laughs and he has to continuously push it out of his eyes. How the crook of his nose looks oddly kissable and more attractive than you’ve noticed it before when it’s this close to your face. 

When the haze from the weed is making your body feel limitless and swoony. 

It’s a feeling that has you turning on your side. Putting a hand under your head shifts your body closer to Ben’s. Smiling when he doesn’t act phased in mirroring you, his body moving in the same motions and position as yours. Now putting the two of you so close that you can feel his breath hit your face, and the space between your legs barely exists without some part of him touching it. 

The two of you had been friends for forever, it seemed. Stuck in the woes of academia, making your parents proud does that to you. Makes you lose track of time and forget how the two of you became friends after getting into an argument over a Hamlet book in the library. 

A fight Finn quickly broke up, but Poe enthusiastically cheered on. 

The lot of you—Rose and Rey included—became inseparable after that day. Something that didn’t have a timestamp or expiration in your mind. It just happened. 

And now you have four best friends, and you’re coming to the conclusion that you’ve possibly liked one more than that. The lines of friendship or something more growing more and more blurry the longer your eyes moved from each mole, each scar, and each strand of hair. His cheek bones, his dark eyes, his lips. And you really don't understand why the two of you hadn’t become something more ages ago.

“Have you wanted to?” 

“The fact that you’re asking me tells me that you’ve never noticed. I’m not that subtle.” 

“Nose stuck in a book at all times, Ben, not subtle?” You make a sarcastic face, “yeah, who would ever think you’re subtle?” 

His knee nudges your thigh as his cheeks rise in that smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the edges. “You think I’d let Poe or Rey borrow my stuff? Steal my takeout from the fridge—which I know you do—without consequence?”

“In their defense, Poe and Rey have three late library books from two years ago and only you and I like the takeout you get from the bodega on the corner, so…it’s not really a fair asses-”

The squeal that comes from his fingers digging into your sides, pinching the skin at your hip and rib bones, fills the air and knocks the wind out of you all at the same time as you realize the position the two of you have wrestled yourselves in. 

Strands of dark hair moving against your forehead, your fingers instinctively reach up to brush the strands from both of your faces. Ben’s lips so close to yours that all it would take is a heavy breath and you’d be kissing. The relaxing rhythm of your heart now feeling like a hammer in your chest. 

Ben’s fingers run along your jawline, resting at your chin. 

“What if we did?” He asks. Searches your face for any reaction or indication that the subject should be changed. That he should stop asking, and the two of you should move away and pretend like this never happened. Go back to how things were—which was clearly not subtle and most definitely screaming ‘I’m in love with my best friend’. 

“Why have you never asked until now?” You answer with a question. 

“Losing my best friend is not the traumatic life experience I’d like to put on my resume beside divorced parents and an absent father.” He jokes, his smile playful, as the pad of his thumb draws small circles against the skin of your jaw. 

“No wonder you’re unemployed.” The two of you laugh, breaths mingling in the joys of this moment. Of the jokes that come easy and the touches that seem to come even easier. But then there's silence, and you’re leaning closer to him, a feathering touch of your lips against his as you murmur, “maybe you should stop being so afraid, Ben Solo. And have me.” 

And if you’ve ever felt like there was something missing—some cataclysmic event in your life that could rewire your nervous system and make you feel like you’ve been barely making it, your heart barely beating and keeping you alive: Ben’s mouth is the puzzle piece as he brings your mouths together in a bruising kiss. 

[calummss]

Kylo Ren Blurb: A Little Twirl, Sweetheart

masterlist

summary: kylo wants to see the clothes you bought

pairing: fem! reader x kylo ren

words: 600

a/n: inspired by this gif. SO PLEASE WATCH THIS GIF BEFORE READING!! LIFE CHANGING

“I’m back.” You called into the hallway as you struggled to close the door, multiple bags hindering you from turning around, forcing you to close the door with your butt.

You slipped out of your black Mary Jane heels and quickly tiptoed towards the kitchen table to relieve your arms of the weight you were carrying. Turning around you saw Kylo sitting on the sofa, a nice cut suit hanging off his frame.

“Where have you been?” He asked, his arms stretching over Chesterfield's sofa back, an old-fashioned glass in his right hand. The amber colour of bourbon waiting to warm his throat.

You made your way to him, bracing yourself on his knee as you climbed up to his face, kissing him. “Shopping.” You smiled.

“Alone?” He caught your lips again, the faint taste of alcohol seeping into your mouth.

You kissed him back once more before lowering yourself on his knees, your arm starting to throb.

“No, I was with Arienne for a while but I had a lot to get through my list so I only really spent the last hour alone. Well, besides Hux who is always there for me. Bodyguard and all…”

Kylo’s eyes attentively sat on your figure as you talked about your shopping.

“Show me what you bought.”

“Like a little fashion show?”

His index finger curled under your Vivienne Westwood choker pearl necklace, pulling you towards his face. “Just like a little fashion show, sweetheart.”

You felt him on your lips again, your hand resting close to his cock, innocently rubbing your thumb against the rough fabric.

“Not only does it make me incredibly horny to see you swoon over me but the fact you get turned on by it gets me very wet,” your other hand gently holding his jaw.

“I like seeing you dressed up,”

“I bet you do,” you leaned away from him, your fingertips not-so-accidentally grazing his cock as you sat up from his knee and walked over to get your bags before disappearing inside the bathroom to change.

You put on the first outfit: a two piece set from the Chanel spring collection from 1995. A blue cropped double breasted coat with a black skirt and gold chain.

Opening the door you strut towards Kylo, your outfit fitting like a second skin.

“It’s Chanel,” you said, admiring the sleeves with a grin. “1995 spring collection.”

Kylo still sat on the sofa, his glass of bourbon placed on the side table. He was still leaning into the back of the sofa, his legs open. His eyes scanned you head to toe.

“What do you think?” You turned to give a full view of the outfit.

“The colour suits you and the skirt makes your legs look good. I like it.”

Walking back into the bathroom you changed into a black Chanel dress. A 1992 Haute Couture Spring/Summer show, a rare item you managed to buy. It felt like wearing a winning lottery ticket.

You walked out again, this time with a set of black heels you had also bought, the sound bouncing off the walls.

Kylo leaned forward, bracing himself on his knees as his eyes darkened.

“Can you do a little twirl for me, sweetheart?”

You turned, giving him a full view of the dress.

“This is my favourite piece I have ever bought.”

“I agree.”

“So you like it?”

“Love it.” He stood up, coming closer. His arms wrapping around your waist. “Keep it on.”

“As you wish,’ you combed through the back of his hair, your lips inching closer. “Sir.”

[multiverseofimagines]

what fandoms do you guys wanna see me write imagines for?

[multi-fandom-imagines8]

In Another World

Part 1

Request: Hi! Can I please request a Kylo x f!reader oneshot where she’s from Earth, & doesn’t know about jedi + 1st order(she’s not a Jedi/no powers). One day stumbles upon something that causes her to teleport where the 1st Order is. Kylo & troops notice her & capture her(she’s terrified/confused), He keeps her safe, & to fully protect her, he marries her so the order doesn’t question why she’s alive. She hates it at first, but they both fall in love, she even talks him down, so he doesn’t kill his dad. Requested by @kpopgirlbtssvt

WC: 1.1 K.

Fictober Challenge

After many years of research, your team had finally made a breakthrough in quantum mechanics. This new experiment was going to change the world. As the particle accelerator was activated, you felt the ground shake beneath you. A crackle of energy filled the air, and then everything went black.

You woke to the smell of smoke and the sound of screams. You opened your eyes to find yourself surrounded by trees. You were no longer in the lab. As you stood up, people were running away, completely ignoring your attempts to ask where you were. Then you saw something that was definitely not human- it looked like a robot of some kind, also fleeing in the same direction. You turned to see what they were all running away from, only to come face-to-face with a figure dressed in black, wearing a helmet that could only be described as…funny. 

“Finally, someone who isn’t running. Could you tell me where we are? I must have hit my head or something” you asked and the figure approached slowly.

“Interesting” he tilted his head, observing you.

“Uhm, are you alright?” You noticed the strange mechanical tone in his voice, which put you even more on edge.

“You don’t seem afraid of me” he remarked.

“And…why would I be?” you asked, utterly confused by the man standing before you. Then, with a sharp-snap hiss, he ignited what appeared to be a laser sword and held it to your neck.

“Alright, alright! Sorry, I didn’t mean to offend you. Could you please lower that thing? I promise, I didn’t do anything” you raised your hands in surrender, fear gripping you. This man was a psychopath.

“Do you think this is a joke, girl?” his voice was laced with anger.

“No, no! I don’t. Please, I’ll do anything you ask. Just don’t kill me” you begged, your heart pounding.

“That droid. Where did he go?” he demanded, still not lowering the blade.

“The ball thing? I… I don’t know.”

“Don’t play games with me. I don’t have time for this.” he threatened, bringing the saber closer.

“I’m not! I swear. Look, I just got here. I have no clue where we are or what that thing was” you babbled, your panic growing.

“So you insist on lying to me?” He snapped his fingers, and two soldiers in white armor grabbed you by the arms. “Bring her to my ship.”

“Please, no! I swear I’m telling the truth! Where are you taking me?” You shouted, struggling in their grip as they dragged you toward the ship. He ignored you, clearly focused on finding something.

“Hey, let me go. I- I can walk” you tried to pull your arms, but they were stronger.

—

“You know, I wouldn’t mind being tied up under other circumstances, but maybe not in this situation. This really is not necessary, I can assure you that.” You babbled nervously, tugging at the restraints.

“I’ll be the judge of that” the man in black said coolly, still wearing his mask.

“Why am I here, exactly?” you asked cautiously.

“The droid. Where is it?” he repeated.

“Listen, dude. I don’t know. I told you, and I’m telling you again, I have no idea where I am or what this place is. I don’t even know if you’re a real person or a robot behind that mask.” You quipped, frustration bubbling up.

He removed his helmet, revealing indeed, a person was behind it. He approached you, his features were cold and unreadable, betraying nothing. “You know I can take whatever I want” he said, his voice low and threatening.

“Whoa! I hope you don’t mean that in a sexual way” you blurted, your heart racing and he sensed the distress in you.

His eyes narrowed slightly in confusion. You were different from anyone he’d ever interrogated. “Your mind. I can simply take the information you’ve been hiding” he clarified, his tone colder.

You sighed deeply, getting tired of explaining to him. “Then go ahead. You’ll see that I have nothing to hide and this is all just a big misunderstanding.” You instantly regretted your words, fearing he might torture information you didn’t have out of you.

He seemed surprised by your lack of resistance. He contemplated for a moment, then reached out with his hand, and you felt a brief twinge of pain spike through your head.

“You were telling the truth” he muttered, lowering his hand, not expecting that. He paced the room as he considered his next move.

“I told you.” After a moment of silence, you asked cautiously “So…does that mean you’ll let me go now?”

“I can’t do that.”

Before you could say anything else, another man entered the room, looking displeased. “Who have you brought in this time, Ren?” the ginger man asked, disdain evident in his tone.

So, his name was Ren, you noted, watching the exchange in growing anxiety.

“General Hux, I do not appreciate you barging in” Ren said, visibly irritated.

“I have orders from Supreme leader Snoke himself.” Hux said, puffing his chest in pride.

“What are the orders?”

Hux glanced at you, then returned his gaze on Ren “We’ve received intel on the resistance. We know their location. We’re preparing to launch an attack that would wipe them out” He announced smugly.

Your eyes widened in fear. These people, whoever they were, were dangerous people, and you had heard too much. You tried to shrink into the background, hoping you wouldnt’t draw their attention to you again. Alone, the look Hux gave you sent shivers down your spine. However, you failed miserably as both men could sense your fear.

“The girl must die. She’s heard more than she should.” Hux declared coldly, glancing at you again.

“I won’t tell anyone, I swear! Just please, don’t kill me” you pleaded, your voice cracking.

“I will decide her fate” Ren interjected, anger flashing his eyes at Hux’s interference. He didn’t like someone else being in his business or giving him orders.

“If you can’t do it, I’ll gladly take care of it” Hux sneered, stepping closer to you, but Ren’s voice cut through the tension.

“Stop right there. Don’t you dare lay a hand on her” Ren barked, his voice shaking with anger. Once he realized that his worry was out of place, he had to improvise “She’s my wife…to be.” As he said these words, he seemed shocked himself.

“What? No” you exclaimed, eyes wide in disbelief. 

Hux glanced between the two of you, clearly noy convinced. “Your wife to be?”

“Yes” Ren said, regaining his composure. “She ran away from me, but I found her. The wedding will take place soon. I don’t need to explain my personal affairs with you.”

“I- I’ll leave you to it, then” Hux replied, a look of distaste crossing his features before turning to you with mock politeness. “I believe congratulations are in order.” he smirked before walking out.