#Armitage Hux X Me

[iwmflbb]

[henclair]

SOMETIMES the gays in space…. ARE EVIL!!!

[artistotel]

shes handsome shes pretty shes the belle of the belfast cityyy

ych / commissions / store / patreon

[flydinom]

they could never make me hate you gingerpilot

[enaelyork]

A first date with Armitage Hux - Aesthetic

✨Imperial ask are open ✨

✨MASTERLIST ✨

[practically-an-x-man]

The Working of My Hands (Indigo x Hux)

Summary: When a storm rolls in and a drought is on the horizon, it takes a bit of hard labor to get things prepared

Word Count: 3.6k

Tags: established relationship, domestic fluff, mild physical and emotional hurt/comfort, completely self-indulgent (I may have watched the De Selby pt. 2 music video a few too many times...)

Crossposted on AO3

____

“Hm.”

“What is it?” Indie asked, twisting around from her spot on the sofa. Armitage was peering at his holopad, frowning at what he saw on the screen.

“Local notice.” he answered, waving a hand at the device, “Just went out. They’re expecting a drought after the storm tonight. They’ve got some recommendations.”

“What does it say?”

“‘Locals are advised to take shorter showers and keep water usage to a minimum’,” he read, “‘Any land-owning residents are also encouraged to dig holes at regular intervals to collect rainfall and reduce the risk of desertification’. And then there’s a diagram.”

He turned the screen in her direction, offering her a glimpse at the notice, then shut down his holopad and set it down on the table beside him. He spared a brief glance out the window, taking in the storm clouds brewing on the horizon, then tugged at his sleeves and took a few brisk strides towards the back bedroom.

“We have a shovel in the garage, don’t we?” he asked, “Would you find it for me while I get changed?”

“Right now?”

“Figure it’s better to get started before the rain comes in.” Armitage said, though she knew he’d done his share of working through the rain all the same. He always got the same look on his face, whenever the clouds broke or thunder echoed across the fields, a strange blend of nostalgia and something far more painful. And he always strayed a little closer to her on those days, always seemed a little more candid about his affections, like the rain reminded him of everything he’d left in his wake. She was never sure if he was imagining Arkanis or Ajan Kloss. Perhaps it was a hybrid of both.

“I think we’ve got one,” Indie agreed, gently shooing Zero off her lap and popping up to her feet, “And maybe the neighbors have a second one I could borrow. I’ll give you a hand.”

“Pacemaker.” he reminded her, an infuriatingly good point, “And it’s humid out. I’ll take care of it.”

“C’mon, I want to help. I’ll take it easy. It’ll get done faster with both of us.”

“Indie.” he said, and set his hand on her shoulder as she brushed past him, “My love. Let me handle this one. You do enough housework as it is. I can handle a shovel.”

She caved. Of course she did. He’d always been so damn good at that, and it had only grown easier since he had her heart to use as leverage. So Indigo nodded, and placed her hand over his to give it a brief squeeze. 

“Alright. I’ll go find it for you.”

Gratefulness crested across his face - she wondered, again, how she’d once found him so hard to read - and Armitage ran his fingers over her hair, her face, her throat, before drawing away. It made sparks dance through her, bright and hot and pleasant. She’d never get tired of that. It still astounded her, sometimes, that he’d chosen to spend his life with her, and without so much as a word of complaint towards all her needs and eccentricities. 

Indie ducked into the garage and skirted past the souped-up speeder she’d been working on. Another out-of-towner with a big custom rig: flashy, sloppily-built, and completely impractical, but it brought in good money. She’d take what she got. 

The shovel was easy enough to find, propped up against the far corner amid a cluster of other tools. When she slipped back into the house, Armitage was there waiting for her. He’d changed into looser clothes, ones that would be easier to move in and that he wouldn’t mind getting dirty, and was busy rolling the sleeves back to the elbows when she stepped inside.

“Thank you, Indie,” he said, taking the shovel from her and briefly leaning over to kiss her temple. It was the storm on the horizon, she thought, the rain bringing out his affections like it so often did. She wouldn’t complain, of course, not ever, but it was interesting enough to have noticed the pattern.

He spared one more glance at his holopad, memorizing the diagram on the screen, then nodded and stepped out the door.

She watched him for a while, seated on the couch with Zero curled up on her lap. It was almost entrancing to watch him work, turning shovelful after shovelful of the fine, dry earth. There was a certain grace to his movements, the same grace as when he piloted a ship or fired a blaster. He’d done his share of manual work in his life, she knew that much, been trained in tools and machines for years before he entered the Order proper. And perhaps even more than most - he’d told her before of his father’s disdain of his slender frame, the way he’d wanted a strong military man to carry on his name. She could imagine Armitage as a young man in the academy, always the one sent to chop firewood or dig the latrines in an effort to put a little more muscle on his frame.

She figured this sort of work was a lot easier to palate than what he was used to. She wondered if he thought of it the same way she did, an effort to keep the earth alive so new greenery could grow, or if he only saw it as work. She hoped, now two years spent living here planetside, having escaped the militaristic nature of their prior lives, that it was the former.

But whatever his thoughts, his rhythm didn’t slow. The dirt became pockmarked with shallow holes, one after another in evenly-spaced intervals, and his hands and forearms became streaked with dirt. A few times she saw him pause, to catch his breath or push the hair out of his face, sometimes to turn his face up towards the sky as if savoring the breeze. These little breaks only lasted a moment or two, and then he’d roll his shoulders and tighten his grip on the shovel, right back to work with the same rigid discipline she knew so well. 

After a while, these little breaks got more frequent, and she could see his form beginning to falter. He was tiring, and very clearly pushing himself past it. Old habits.

Indigo sighed to herself - funny how both of them could have the same bad habit, pushing themselves past what they could rightfully take - and stood up from her seat. She stopped in the kitchen, long enough to grab a tall drinking glass and fill it with cool water, then made her way towards the door. She had to nudge Millicent out of the way before she could bolt for it, and managed a tricky sort of spin to get the door closed before the cat could get out.

Humidity hit her like a slap to the face. The air was thick with it, thick and hot, and she expected the storm to break any moment. Only a few minutes outdoors, and she’d already welcome the rain as an old friend. She imagined that even with so many tumultuous memories souring his mind to it, after this much work, Armitage would be quick to do the same. 

He was still absorbed in his work, thin cords of muscle flexing in his forearms as he turned another shovelful of soil. With him standing in the hole, almost a foot below her, Indie had the rare perspective of being taller than him. His face was shining with sweat, his breathing labored, and yet he still moved with an almost mechanical diligence. 

Although his job itself was somewhat sedentary, managing import and export records for this particular hemisphere of the planet, it wasn't as if it was rare to see him performing manual labor. The two of them owned a bit of land to tend, after all, and there were always duties around the house to manage at that. Indie did much of the mechanical work, of course, fixed what needed fixing, but Armitage certainly pulled his weight and more. He was no stranger to hard work.

But this… this was something else. It was almost carnal, she thought, seeing him move the earth in strong and confident motions. As much as she loved the sight of him clean and put-together as he normally was, the sight of him hard at work, covered in dirt with his hair fallen in rough red waves around his face, sent a different sort of thrill through her.

He’d taken on this role in an effort to keep her from straining her heart. The sight of him here, now, easily negated all that effort. If anything, she found herself a little dizzy.

“How’s it going?” Indigo asked, succeeding in drawing his eyes up to her. At first Hux just shrugged and leaned against the shaft of the shovel, panting faintly from the exertion. He swiped one hand across his forehead but only succeeded in smudging dirt across his face.

“Getting there.” he finally replied, gesturing at the rows of shallow, even holes now scattered across their back lot. Armitage brushed at the hair hanging loose into his face, trying to coax it away from his eyes, and let out another sharp breath. “This humidity is killing me, though.”

“Here.” she said, and held out the glass to him, “Water.”

He took it and shot her a grateful look, then drained the glass in just a few swallows. Even just that much seemed to refresh him a bit, though he was still breathing hard from all the work.

“Wanna come back inside?” Indie asked, “Take a break for a few minutes?”

Armitage tilted his head, taking in the storm clouds gathering overhead with a scrutinizing expression on his face. Then he dropped his eyes and gave her a low shrug. 

“Storm’ll break any moment now. I’d like to get a little more done before it does.”

“Alright,” she agreed, knowing she wouldn’t be able to convince him otherwise. He was the type to fulfill a job to completion, and she knew it would bother him if he didn’t. That level of discipline had been wired into him, and she didn’t imagine it would ever leave. By now, she figured she knew him almost as well as she knew herself. Her heart was linked with his own, now and forever.

So Indie just reached out and took the empty glass from him, and leaned over enough to kiss his cheek. Her feet slid on loose soil and she nearly fell right into the hole, but one of his hands caught her waist and held her in place - like it was simple, unconscious, easy despite how tired he had to be. It sent the same little thrill through her, so much that she nearly shivered despite the sweltering temperature around her. 

Her heart was never going to recover from this. 

She didn’t mind a bit.

“Don’t stay out too long, okay?”

“I’ll be in as soon as the rain hits.” he promised, his hand remaining steady on her waist until he was sure she’d recovered her footing. 

“I’ll hold you to it.”

Armitage just nodded (weary but not dismissive, merely a reflection of his growing exhaustion) and readjusted his grip on his shovel. Indie found herself lingering a moment longer, drinking in the sight of him, then finally managed to pull herself away and slip back into the house. 

She watched him for a while longer, a shorter while, then eventually decided that was a little odd and picked herself up from the couch. She fed the animals and pored over the contents of the kitchen - then proceeded to take a mental step back, and thought of how lucky she was to be in a place where Zero could have two good meals every day and the fridge held real vegetables instead of only dehydrated space-grade food. She’d never really had this kind of security before. Even two years in, it still came as a bit of a shock. 

Thunder rolled in just as she’d made a decision on what to cook, and Indie heard rain battering the metal roof of the house only a few moments later. This was going to be a big one, she could tell. It made her think of Ajan Kloss. 

The back door slid open after only a moment or two of rain, and she watched Armitage attempt to shoo Millicent away from the door so he could step inside. It seemed he’d mostly outrun the rain - the dirt streaked across his face and arms had not yet become mud, at least - though he left his shoes at the door to avoid soiling the floor as he walked through the house.

“Finished.” he said, though he seemed more preoccupied with keeping the cat from brushing up against his trousers and getting dirt smudged across her fur. Finally Millicent lost interest and padded away, and Hux straightened up. “I’m going to go wash up.”

He crossed the room in just a few long strides, frowning at the dirt caked under his fingernails, but Indigo held up a hand just before he passed her. 

“Wait.”

He paused mid-stride and turned to face her, as Indie refilled the same tall glass of water and held it out to him. Like before, he took it without any hesitation or argument, and downed the liquid like a man lost in the desert.

“Thanks, love.” he murmured, setting the glass down on the counter beside him. Almost before Indie could react, his fingers caught the back of her neck and pulled her in against him. In just one brisk, confident motion, he pressed his lips firmly to her forehead, and then he let her go and strode down the hall before she’d even fully processed what he’d done. 

Then it hit her like a bolt of lightning, prickling along every nerve. Her heart thundered in her chest so fervently that she had to sit down for a moment. The sight of it, the sight of him all rugged and covered in dirt, and the feel of that confident hand against the back of her neck, was carved into her memory.

Armitage emerged a brief while later, looking much more refreshed and put-together now that he’d had a chance to properly cool down. Indigo watched him finish with the buttons on his shirt as he made his way down the hall. His hair was damp, and his skin was clean of dirt - though his face and forearms were crimson with a rather uncomfortable-looking sunburn. 

“Oh, you’re all red.” Indie mumbled, more to herself than anything, and crouched to pull open the cabinet under the sink. That was where they kept the first aid kit: equidistant from the house proper and her garage, positioned for both mundane needs and any work injuries she might stumble into. It took her a minute of rifling through it before she found what she was looking for. 

“Leave it to me to burn on a cloudy day,” he muttered, half a joke and half a sigh, “Do we have aloe? Or bacta?”

“Right here,” she said, finding it almost at the same moment he mentioned it. Hux held out his hand for the little tube of gel, but Indigo just gestured at the couch across the room. “Sit down.”

Confusion flickered across his face, but he crossed the room without hesitation and took a seat on the end of the sofa. Indie joined him after only a moment, aloe in hand. 

She stood in front of him, not even a full arm’s-length away, and poured a bit of the gel out into her fingers. Armitage was still, expectant, though his pale eyes tracked every motion she made.

Indie shot him a faint smile, then reached out and gently took hold of his forearm, working the aloe into his skin. She took her time with it, perhaps a little longer than was really necessary, but she didn’t want this to feel rushed- least of all like a chore, when it was just the opposite. When she reached his wrist, though, Armitage flipped his palm and closed his fingers loosely around her hand. 

“You don’t have to-”

“I know,” she said, “I want to.”

He still looked a little fidgety at first - not uncomfortable, just that he wasn’t used to having someone else take care of these little tasks for him - and his fingers twitched as he released his grip on her hand. That, too, was a frequent thing for both of them. Having sparked their relationship in the midst of war, the gentler life was still foreign in many ways. One of those, and one of the most difficult to soak in, was learning to accept this sort of attention for things beyond simple necessity. Perhaps it came from how much of their lives they’d each spent alone, only able to rely on themselves.

He’d taken on the yard work because he knew her heart wouldn’t manage it. That much was easy; easy for him to suggest, and easy for her to accept, because it was tethered to something as tangible as her health. But this, caring for him in this way that she knew he could easily do himself, just for the fact that she wanted to… that was new. That was trickier.

“Hey,” Indie murmured, and set her hand gently on his sunburned face, “Relax.”

Armitage nodded against her palm, and she could see the tension trickle out of his body with what looked like a palpable effort. It made her heart hurt a little, just knowing how difficult it was for him to be vulnerable even here. But all the same, it warmed her heart that he was willing to try.

She let her hand fall away from his face, and instead busied herself with applying the aloe to his other forearm and wrist. After a minute of this, Zero hopped up onto the couch to investigate, his nose twitching as he attempted to weasel his way under Hux’s arm. Armitage lifted his hand out of the way, letting out a breathy halfway-laugh at the animal.

“Move, buddy,” Indigo told her pet, promptly rerouting him with the hand not slathered in aloe. Zero let out a low chirp, almost indignant, but hopped off the couch and immediately prowled over to steal Millicent’s spot by the window. 

“He was fine.” 

“Medicinal aloe is toxic if it’s ingested. I didn’t want him getting it on his feathers and then grooming himself.”

“Hm.” 

Thunder crackled above the house, sharp and sudden. Indigo jumped, startled by the noise. Hux did not. He’d lived in storms all his life, after all.

“Seems like the wells are helping, though,” Indie said once the thunder died down, stretching to peer out the window, “They’re catching the rainwater.”

“Be surprised if they didn’t.” Armitage mumbled, hardly loud enough to be heard. Indie just scoffed and shoved lightly at his shoulder. 

“You know what I mean.”

She poured out a little more of the aloe gel into her palm, eyeing the drawn and distant look on her partner’s face. He was still looking out the window, watching the rain come down in sheets. Oh yes, this would be quite the storm, a supercell like the ones of his youth.

Armitage shut his eyes as her fingers reached his face, and she felt the last of his tension finally ebb away under her touch. Her fingertips skated over his forehead, his cheekbones, the harsh splash of crimson across the bridge of his nose- and then, on a whim, she ducked down and kissed him. 

That earned her a smile, bright and real and surprised, and his hands caught her hips to pull her a step closer. Indie staggered and nearly fell straight into his lap, brought so close she could feel the heat from his skin. A harsh but steady rain drummed on the roof over their heads.

A flash of sudden lightning lit up the whole house, accompanied by the deafening and near-instantaneous boom of thunder. Across the room, Millicent yowled and sprinted underneath the cupboard in the hallway. Indigo flinched again despite herself. These storms weren’t often as bad for her as they were for him, with his history, but witnessing lightning so close had grown to make her shudder. All she could see was Exegol.

Clearly Armitage had the same thought. He didn’t flinch, but his hands moved from her waist to her wrists, thumbs tracing the paths of those branching scars down her skin. The touch was comforting on a level she couldn’t quite describe - a reminder of what those scars had been worth, in the end. That made things a little better, though she still couldn’t bear to look out the window as the skies flashed bright again.

His fingers slid down to her hands and squeezed them tight. When she managed to meet his eyes, she found a striking degree of seriousness in them. 

“Indie, I-” he began, refusing to break her gaze for even a moment, “I’m so lucky to have you.”

The rain brought out his affections. It always did. And in a storm like this, how could there be anything else? Lightning was the flash of a blaster, thunder was the snap of a belt. His arduous past rolled in with the storm clouds.

And though the rain was cold, he refused to let it chill him. Not anymore.

[goose-nest]

i discovered this one a couple of days ago and i was planning to save it for later, for after the full 'time after time' story was published, as a lil treat. but the latest chapter was so angsty (and good!) that i felt like i needed some fluff after it lmao

all i have to say about this one is: screaming crying throwing upp giggling kicking my feet ALL OF IT SDFHJSFDJKH<33

this line: “Perhaps I found the process of being convinced… enjoyable.” absolutely TOOK ME OUT 🙈😩😳♥ 10/10 can't wait for the main story to come to the point where hux has this level of confidence and sass 😩🙌🙌

rest (armitage hux x reader) 🧡🧡

Summary: hux is working late, but you try to convince him to get some rest

Warnings/Tags: gn!reader; established relationship; mentions of a prior injury; a little bit suggestive at times but nothing too wild; very soft hux in this one; I fear we shall all need to go to the dentist after this on account of the tooth-rotting levels of fluff 🥰; as always, let me know if I've missed anything!

Words: 3146

Author’s Note: so this is a little outtake from 'time after time' that I'm actually posting before that story goes live, as a little treat ☺️ in the longer story, it's situated somewhere between chapters 29 and 30! ultimately, I really liked this scene, but I just couldn't get it to meld into the narrative of the longer story, so I'm posting it separately instead! I think it should still read totally fine as a little drabble – there are a few moments where I reference events from the larger story, so if you feel like there's a little detail that lacks context, that's probably why 😅 also, this scene takes place very late in the timeline of 'time after time,' so the relationship between hux and the reader is very well established by this point. I really hope y'all enjoy and I would lovelovelove to hear your thoughts! 🥰🥰

Armitage barely noticed the buzz at the door as he leaned over his desk, eyesight beginning to go a little fuzzy as he attempted to focus on the forms and diagrams on his data screens. Then he came back to himself. You were sleeping. Kriff, he hoped the noise hadn’t woken you. He pushed himself from the chair and stumbled a little unsteadily to the door, muscles stiff after hours of not remembering to move. He peered at the tiny screen for the cam that was trained to the exterior of the door. It was just a transport droid, no doubt delivering a freshly pressed set of uniforms. Pushing the button and sending door sliding open before the droid could buzz again, he collected the clothing and dismissed the droid.

He pivoted on his heel back into the room, uniforms in hand. It never failed to send a little thrill through him when both his and yours were delivered to what used to be only his quarters. Maybe it was silly, but it was another treasured reminder that you really were together. With that pleasant thought in mind, he set the crisply folded general’s and captain’s uniforms on the low table in the living area. He didn’t want to risk waking you by placing them in their proper location in the bedroom closet.

He had settled back down at his desk, mind already puzzling through the problems in front of him when he heard a soft sound from the direction of the bedroom. Then he heard you speak.

“Armitage…” Your voice was still thick with sleep, but the sound of his name on your lips was always impossibly sweet. He turned toward you instantly to find you leaning against the doorframe of the bedroom, attempting to rub the sleep from your eyes. He was about to try and convince you to go back to bed when he noticed something that caused a faint heat to begin rising in his body. You were wearing his sleep clothes. He had gotten back frustratingly late from a meeting that went far longer than necessary, and you had already been asleep when he quietly entered your shared quarters, so he wouldn’t have seen. But the tiny silver bands near the edges of the short sleeves and the hems of the shorts marked the otherwise unassuming black garments as unmistakably belonging to part of a general’s clothing allotment. Armitage swallowed thickly.

“Are… are you wearing my sleeping clothes?” he asked quietly, feeling the internal heat in his body begin to externalize itself in the form of an embarrassing blush. You nodded sleepily, beginning to make your way to him. He still watched your footsteps carefully in case you might become unstable, but you crossed the floor without incident, even if he could tell that you still favored your uninjured leg slightly. 

“Mmhmm…” you confirmed as you reached him, resting your hands on the back of his chair. “You weren’t there to hold me, so I had to opt for the next best thing.” Your fingers wandered to his shoulders. Armitage’s blush had increased to a veritable blaze, and with the way the warmth of your hands was soaking into his skin, he was beginning to find it very difficult to breathe. “Although I must admit,” you whispered, lips at the shell of his now very reddened ear, “they’re a very poor replacement.” 

Armitage was feeling quite faint indeed. Even if he had wanted to say something, he doubted any words would have made it past his lips. Your fingers pressed into his shoulders, finding all the places where his stress was tied in tense knots and slowly massaging them away. He suppressed a small groan at the heavenly feeling.

“You never wear the short ones anyway,” you murmured. It was true; Armitage had spent too much of his life feeling cold, first on rainy Arkanis and then on the desolate ships of the Imperial remnant. His wiry frame had never held onto heat well. Now that he had the choice to be warm, he wasn’t going to waste the privilege. You helped with that too, he mused as the places where your hands met his shoulders radiated with liquid warmth that was seeping into the rest of his body. “You don’t mind, do you?” There was maybe just the barest hint of hesitation in your question, like you weren’t perfectly certain. He reached one hand up to clasp over yours, momentarily stilling your rhythmic movement on his strained muscles. 

“Not at all,” he assured you. He was so far past not minding. In fact, the thought of it was causing very… distracting images to begin to form in his mind. You hummed lightly in response to his answer, and he could feel the gentle press of your lips against his disheveled hair. Your fingers began kneading at his shoulders again, and he let himself relax more fully into your tender touch. Then he caught a glimpse of the time on his data screen.

“Love,” he said softly, reveling in the way the term of endearment could fall so easily from his lips now. “It’s late – you should go back to bed.” As much as he wanted you to stay, he was determined not to let his own bad habits affect you, especially not while you were still healing.

“Not without you,” came the soft but stubborn reply. A small smile pulled at his lips. Your sleepiness seemed to have made you more endearingly uninhibited.

“You need your rest,” he reminded you, gently pulling one of your hands from his shoulder and placing a warm kiss on your knuckles. 

“So do you,” you responded, your other hand now carding through his hair, sending a pleasant humming sensation along his scalp as you freed the last of the orderly orange strands from their gelled attention. He realized his resolve was weakening.

“I have work to do…” he said softly, trying to convince himself as much as you. Reluctantly, he dropped your hand, placing his arm back on the armrest of his chair as he once again pulled himself toward the desk. He hoped that the action of returning to work would shake the tiredness he could feel steadily growing in his body. It seemed you weren’t having any of that though.

You trailed your hand over his shoulder and down the length of his arm, your touch setting off sparks on his skin even through the rumpled fabric of his uniform top. He struggled to regulate his breathing. You came into view then as you moved between him and his data screens, letting your fingers linger on the back of his wrist as you leaned back against the edge of his desk. The sight of you still soft and languid from sleep, clad in his sleep clothes, was almost more than he could bear. He bit down hard as he struggled with both the exhaustion and sudden heat that were steadily rising in his body. 

“Armitage, you can work next cycle,” you told him gently as you leaned toward him. His breath stuttered in his lungs.

“I— I really should try to get this finished,” he stammered out, even though everything in him wanted to give into you. You seemed to search his face for a moment before coming to some kind of conclusion. What you had decided Armitage could not guess.

“Alright,” you whispered, but there was less defeat in your voice than he would have expected. He watched as you pushed yourself from his desk, hoping to steal a kiss as you passed back behind his chair to return to the bedroom. But that was not the motion you made.

Armitage had to grip the armrests of his chair in surprise as you instead moved forward and slid onto his lap, easily slotting yourself against him. Your head was tucked into his neck, your hands curled up against his chest, legs swung sideways across him. It was a long moment before he could breathe again. The warm, comforting weight of your body against him was such a familiar, welcome feeling that he instinctively began to melt into you. 

“What are you doing?” he asked breathlessly, his lips against your forehead.

“You said you needed to work and that I needed to rest,” you murmured back. He could feel your quiet words vibrating against his chest. “But I sleep better when you hold me. So I’m compromising.” Even through the sleepiness in your voice, Armitage could hear the light teasing that threaded through your words. Kriff, he was so in love with you.

“You’re not going to be able to sleep like this,” he told you, unable to keep the smile from his voice. You shrugged against him.

“How do you know?” you responded, adjusting your position on his lap and snuggling closer to him. He gritted his teeth, only too aware that he was losing this battle. When he remained still for a moment, you spoke again: “You can work. I’ll just be here.”

Armitage let out a huff of affectionate amusement at your words. Nevertheless, he pulled himself back toward his desk, trying to train his attention on the data screens. He was not particularly successful in that endeavor. Every instinct in his body was telling him to wrap his arms around you, to pull you closer. You were literally in his lap, pressed against his chest, and he was focused on work that was seeming less and less important by the minute as he became more and more aware of your body against his. He was struggling mightily to read over a diagram when he felt you move.

Your hands had found their way to his uniform collar and were slowly loosening the dark fabric from around his throat, undoing some of the topmost fastenings. His skin flushed, reacting immediately to the soft brush of your fingers.

“I thought you were supposed to be sleeping,” he reminded you, his lightly scolding tone no doubt getting lost in the rush of affection that he couldn’t suppress from his voice.

“You seemed uncomfortable,” you offered by way of explanation as you pulled the high collar away from his neck. “I was just trying to help.” Before he could respond, he was suddenly frozen in place by the feeling of your warm lips pressed tenderly to the revealed skin of his neck. He gripped the armrest as his breathing became fevered and uneven. He knew the battle was lost.

When your lips fell from his skin, he pulled back, letting you lean slightly into the support of his arms so that he could see your face.

“What?” you asked with a bright smile, the question suffused with false innocence. 

“You are incorrigible,” he responded, tilting forward to press his forehead against yours, brushing your noses together. The action caused a spiral of sleepy giggles to bubble from your lips. Despite his attempt to affect mock disapproval, Armitage couldn’t help the way his face pulled into a smile at your reaction.

“I learned from the best,” you retorted happily, planting a tiny kiss on the tip of his nose. There was no way to hide the way his whole face went pink.

“Well, now I see why you were so good at your work, Captain,” he teased, still surprised at how easily such a response came to him when he was around you, “you can be very convincing indeed.”

“I’m not sure how good it made me at my work,” you replied, and Armitage could hear the laughter in your voice, “since this manner of persuasion is saved for you alone, General.” Your eyes were glittering and so, so soft as you looked at him. If he hadn’t already admitted defeat, this would have been the moment he would have happily given in. There was something about knowing that there was a side of you reserved solely for him that never failed to make warmth bloom in his chest.

“Hmmm… a brilliant tactician then,” he mused as he brought your head to where he could press a kiss to your temple. You hummed happily in response. 

“Does this mean you’ll come to bed then?” you asked with a small yawn. Armitage was all too aware of the way your fingers had found his collar again and were slowly opening more and more of his uniform top, revealing the black shirt beneath. The skin of his chest was no doubt a humiliating shade of pink under the thin fabric as his body reacted to your gentle touch.

“Fine,” he acquiesced with an exaggerated sigh of mock-resignment. From the way you laughed, it was clear you heard the affectionate joking in his voice.

“Thank you for your sacrifice, General,” you teased back. The way your fingers were idly tracing patterns across his chest was making him feel quite dizzy.

“Far from a sacrifice,” he whispered against your temple, the joking gone from his voice, “I consider it a privilege.” You ducked your head in slight embarrassment at his words as he pressed another kiss to your hairline.

“Then why did it take so much convincing?” you murmured against his chest. There were a hundred ways Armitage could have answered that question, most of them coming down to the fact that he had gotten good at denying himself the things he wanted. This was not the time to delve into that particular subject; he wanted to keep the conversation light, aware of the fact that you seemed to be growing sleepier by the minute as you curled against him.

“Well, your methods of persuasion were perfectly attuned to your intended target,” he mused, tracing a finger along your cheek. “Perhaps I found the process of being convinced… enjoyable.” He could feel the way your skin warmed at his words. 

“Now who’s being incorrigible?” you rejoined, unable to keep a smile from blooming on your face despite the teasing mock-accusation in your voice.

“You did say you learned from the best,” he reminded you, eliciting a small laugh as you tucked your head against his neck again. Kriff, you made everything in him feel so light. He could have stayed there all rest period, but he was too practical to think that the current position was a viable long-term sleeping option for either of you.

“Love, I hate to say this, but you are going to need to get up so that I can keep my promise,” he whispered against your ear. He couldn’t help but chuckle at your small whine of annoyance. Nevertheless, you crawled from his lap as his hands hovered over you, still anxious that you might become unsteady. He missed the feeling of your body against his immediately.

He stood from his chair as soon as he was certain that you were able to stand without incident. You leaned back against his desk slightly, arms wrapped around yourself as though to ward off the chill in the air that was more apparent on your bared skin now that you weren’t curled against him. Armitage placed his hands on your shoulders as you gazed at him with tired eyes.

“Go to bed,” he urged you softly. “I need to change, but I’ll be right there.”

“You promise?” you asked. Kriff, he couldn’t say no to you when you were looking at him like that – not that he was planning on denying you anything.

“I promise,” he assured you, planting a kiss on your forehead. You hummed lightly as his lips found your skin and offered him a soft smile as you vanished back toward the bedroom. Watching for just a moment to make sure your injured leg didn’t fail you, Armitage then slid into the refresher and finished the work you had been doing to loosen his uniform, the memory of your fingers still lingering against his skin. He pulled on his sleeping clothes – garments he used significantly more now that he was with you. Then he padded through the darkened rooms, turning off his data screens as he made for the bedroom. You were right: his work could wait until next cycle.

He stepped softly into the room, taking a moment to notice the way the starlight streaming in through the window cascaded over your form, bathing you in a silvery glow. His breath skipped a little in his lungs. He crawled under the covers with you, and he could tell that you were already half asleep by the way your breathing had deepened. You blinked your eyes open slightly as he slid onto the mattress next to you, a tired but genuine smile forming on your lips.

“This is so much better than just wearing your sleep clothes,” you murmured as he pulled you into his arms.

“And this is so much better than working,” Armitage sighed. “But you can wear my sleep clothes any time,” he added, the words barely above a whisper. Something about the soft darkness in the room and the way you were folded so happily against him was making him feel a little brave.

“Oh yeah?” He could tell from the hazy quality of your voice that you were on the verge of sleep. “Why?” He stroked a hand down your back, considering his reply. If he confessed now, with you already barely conscious, maybe you would wake up thinking you had dreamed it.

“I find it quite… attractive.” The word was a paltry one for the way heat had suffused his body at the sight, but it conveyed his meaning well enough for the moment. Perhaps there would be another time for him to be more explicit about his feelings on the subject. He blushed deeply in the dark.

“Then… I guess… I’ll have to wear them more often…” It was clear you were struggling to stay awake with the way your stumbling words kept trailing off. Armitage continued the gentle motion of his hand moving lightly up and down your back.

“I find you quite… appealing… no matter what you wear.” Again, the word paled in comparison to the way he felt about you. But the sentiment was true, the proof only too clear on his very reddened cheeks that he was grateful you couldn’t see.

“Armitage… are you saying…?” Your question faded from your lips as your breathing deepened. Armitage was relieved. He wasn’t sure that was a conversation he could have with you without it resulting in you getting far less sleep than you needed. Heat still spread throughout his body at the thought though. He closed his eyes, working to match his breathing to yours. There would be time for that on other nights.

“Sleep well, love,” he murmured, his lips pressed to your forehead in a reverent kiss as he wrapped you even tighter in his embrace. “You need your rest.”

[blue-sadie]

Blinded By Feelings

Armitage Hux, Cal Kestis, Poe Dameron, Din Djarin, Anakin Skywalker

They have feelings for you their enemy

Armitage Hux

He hated you even through he's never met you, he loathed your very being and it only increased when he met you, you were another general that to fought to be the best.

And when you two were together in a meeting or just in passing in the corridors you two would bicker like children over plans or random things that was annoying one of you that day.

He would only realize his feelings when a storm trooper would ask him but he would tell them to shut up and threaten them saying he would throw him into space if he ever spoke something so ridiculous again, but it would cloud his mind days after that.

He would feel disgusted by himself and avoid you by all cost but his efforts went to waste when you come back injured from a mission and he would make it his personal mission to take you to the med bay and scold you at the same time.

"You are stupid as the rebellion if you think you would not get scolded for your actions you could've gotten yourself killed next time at least tell me first so I can get you better storm troopers"

Cal Kestis

You joined the crew way before he did and had a stronger bond with greez and cere he was kinda jealous it wasn't much of a hatred thing he just found you kinda annoying to be around and would avoid being with you.

Every time you tried talking to him he would ignore you or when you saved him countless times he would just give you a forced thank you but nothing more.

The thing that made him notice is that you would start showing up in his dreams more or when he meditates, he'd find it annoying at first but he'd start thinking about you more and more.

He'd start listening and paying more attention to you which not only freaked you out but the other crew members to, during one of the missions he'd actually listen to your ideas instead of shutting you up.

"You have some really good ideas I should've started listening to you sooner, I'm sorry about that by the way I guess I was just jealous of you"

Poe Dameron

You were the rebellions best mechanic and the person that would work on his x-wing without his consent he'd hate it even though it needed to be done, he hates it more when you'd leave sticky notes telling him about the up grades you've done to his ship.

He would complain to Leia about you but she'd just laugh and tell him off because your just doing your job so then he'd come complain directly to you but you'd just ignore him continuing on his next up grade.

He'd have a few people tell him that he probably has a crush on you because of him talking about you so much but what really makes him realize is when he sees you talking to others guys and the jealousy he feels.

When returning from one of his missions his x-wing battered and needing repairs he'd actually come straight to you to ask you to repair it for him.

"I know I found it annoying but I've come to realize your up grades are kinda.... helpful after saving me a few times so what I'm trying to say is I'd like you to continue working on my ship"

Din Djarin

Your were an assassin, killing off the high end people most bounty hunters were afraid to kill, you've also killed a few of his bountys making him pissed.

He's only ever layed eyes on you a few times in crowed bars or a desolate street he doesn't really care about knowing you because why would he get to know his enemy a thief.

He'd only start looking out for you more when you saved him from an ambush you shot his captures in the head and threw him a gun before disappearing again.

He'd be against the idea of ever actually falling for you because of his past experiences but after some more encounters with you he'd would stop you before you vanish again.

"You can reject this offer but I'm still putting it out there, I want you to join me us, it would be alot easier we work together then you stealing my bountys so what do you say"

Anakin Skywalker

You are master windus padowan and the person he's always compared to why can't you be like yn why can't you take after her, it was something he heard almost everyday which makes him hate you.

He hates how kind you are even through his hateful words he spits your way or when you'd sometimes take the fall for one of his stupid plans he never even thanks you.

He like hux only got the realization when you got hurt, you'd taken a hit that was ment for him, the panic he felt as he watched you fall made him snap and kill whoever did it.

He'd spend day and night by your bedside in the medbay pacing back and forth as he tried thinking about his feelings, they'd only calm down when he sees you awake.

"Don't do that ever again do you hear me, you don't deserve to be here especially because of me I should be in this bed instead of you, do you know what you put me through I thought I lost you"

[starlightsearches]

Tis I hanging out in your inbox while you’re on break. Ever think about giving Hux sloppy toppy under his desk in his office.

Learning Curve

I'm definitely thinking about it now, bestie!!! Thanks for indulging me, as always!!

requests are always open but i'm slow 😬

Armitage Hux x GN Reader

18+ only, oral (m), porn without plot. Let me know what you think, my loves!!

It's a formality, really.

That's what Hux tells himself as he watches you slide to the floor, a breath skipping from his lungs when you grip at his thighs to guide yourself down onto the ground. There's no need for you to hide like this—his office door is locked with no exceptions for entry, as it always is when you're with him.

It's just that he'd been too close, too volatile, in the moments before this one, with his hips rutting into yours, his body bearing down on you so harshly that your back bowed with the pressure. And there was that teasing smile on your lips, the one he felt etching into his skin with every heated kiss.

His arm circling your waist, your hands in his hair, the bruising grip he had at the juncture of your hip, and close just wasn't close enough.

Hux was losing some fragment of himself he couldn't afford to part with.

Not now, at least. Not when he was supposed to be working.

And so he had tried to stop it, to sidestep the embarrassment he knew was coming. He had broken from the kiss, turned his face away from your own, heart stuttering when he felt your lips at his neck, untroubled as always.

"I should—" a horrible start, his voice high and keening. Armitage had coughed, trying to clear his head from the dizzying heat of you. "I should be getting back to work."

And now this—you on your knees, a shadow falling over your eyes from the edge of his desk, tucked so neatly beneath him. He catches your gaze, watches, mouth dry, as you trail your fingers up and down his thighs, sparking his skin like the head of a match against a striker.

And it's just a formality, this shelter you've found. But Armitage can't deny that he likes the look of it.

"What are you doing?" Hux whispers the words, strangely breathless.

He knows what you're doing. His body has reacted to it in all the familiar ways—a path worn too deeply, even before you'd ever glanced in his direction.

Your head lolls to the side, resting against his knee. Your lips are flushed and swollen, and one of your hands has made it to the top of his thighs, palm just pressing against his swelling cock, solid enough to force another heavy breath from his lungs.

"I'm letting you get back to work," you whisper innocently, but the unspoken language between you is too loud for anything like that.

Hux nods, pretends, resting his forearms against the edge of his desk as he traps you in the space beneath him.

He scans the space with unseeing eyes, tries to think of any of the tasks that had been nagging at him before, unsuccessfully. Beneath the gleaming surface of his desk, this symbol of everything Hux has accomplished, there's the spark of your touch, the rumble of his zipper.

Armitage lets his eyes fall closed, a gasp on his lips when his aching cock meets the cold air of his office, your hand just barely stroking at his flushed length.

There's nothing for him to grab onto, no handful of your hair or the expanse of his bed sheets. Hux lets his hands curl into tight fists, leather squeaking against the glass surface, his teeth clenched so tightly his jaw might snap as he waits for the next hint of movement from you.

You've lifted your head from where it had rested, and Hux is only half sure he's not imagining the wet heat of your breath against the tip of his cock, lips so near where he wants them—the inviting softness of your mouth and this pleasure you would offer him.

He tries his best to picture it, and feels his cock twitch in your hand at the image of you, glassy eyes and shining skin, your tongue pink between wet lips as you taste him.

"Please," Armitage can't help but beg, certain the anticipation will kill him.

The warmth registers first, and then the wetness—strings of spit dripping from between your lips, painting his skin. You spread them with the palm of your hand, cupping at the head, gathering the first hints of his spend and coating the rest of his length with it, stroking him more earnestly.

The groan that bursts through his lips comes from some place deep inside him.

You hum, pleased. Hux can feel it—in his chest, and, more importantly, against his cock. Your lips just brushing the vein on the underside of his dick, moving up, up, up until your bottom lip catches on the ridge of his head, lips parting to invite him into the divine comfort of your mouth.

One hand jerks from where it rests, but Armitage can't reach you. He lets his fingers grip at the edge of the table instead, savors the bite of it against his palm.

The feeling of you is indescribable. Perfect, even. So attuned to his needs with your hollowed cheeks and the rhythm of your hand, stroking all the places your mouth can't reach.

Hux feels the ecstasy build within him, the indomitable warmth in his chest and the pit of his stomach and the tops of his thighs—the feeling of your skin against his painting his whole body in an indulgent glow.

Armitage spills into your mouth with a moan on his lips that carries your name.

[bakerstreethound]

Oh my gosh thank you!!! I feel like Hux deserves a little angst and a tad bit of comfort. Thank you so much for reading! 🫶💕

What Doesn’t Kill You

Requested by @livy1391: Hello there!! I seen that you are interested in writing for Star Wars! Would you mind if I asked for a General Armitage Hux x Reader? After Hux is shot the reader is told to get rid of his body, however, she knows that Hux is still alive because he specifically wore stronger armor because he predicted what Pryde would do. 

Pairing: General Armitage Hux x reader

Warnings: TROS Spoilers, violence, swearing

Summary: reader gets rid of Hux’s supposed “dead” body but has other plans. 

All writings belong to me @bakerstreethound

Word Count: 786

A/N: this is my first time writing Hux and I really enjoyed it! If you haven’t seen TROS and want to avoid some spoilers read at your own discretion! Thank you for the request! Let’s write those wrongs (:

General Armitage Hux had a bad feeling about a summons he received. He knew letting the fugitives escape was a bad idea, but he had to help the Resistance and bring down Kylo Ren. It did nothing to calm his nerves as he paced up and down the corridors of our shared quarters. 

“You have to trust me, darling. Pryde is going to kill me. When he finds out I’m the spy all hell will break loose. I only have one choice!”

You held up a hand silencing him. “Let me speak,” your voice was laced with authority demanding to be heard. “You have to trust me on this.”

He continued pacing, rustling his hands through his red locks.

“Hux.”

When he turned towards you this time, he didn’t try to hide the tears from falling. “I’m not ready for this. I can’t live a life without you in it.”

Keep reading

[girl-next-door-writes]

Fake it til you fall

Characters: Armitage Hux x reader

Summary: Anxiety spikes at a holiday party until an unexpected ally, Armitage Hux, helps you fake-date your way to triumph—but is your evening as fake as you first thought?

Word Count: 1274 words

Prompts: Crowded party. Fake dating.

A/N: A sweet anon requested this one, and I hope they see it.

The clamor of the holiday party swirled around you like a chaotic symphony. Laughter, the soft hum of music, the clinking of glasses—sounds that should have been comforting felt anything but as you scanned the room for a familiar face. The sprawling penthouse, draped in tasteful holiday decor—gold and white lights twinkling against polished wood and sparkling glass—felt more like a museum than a place for merriment.

You had one mission tonight: survive this.

Across the room, you caught sight of your co-worker, Lila, and she wasn’t alone. She was surrounded by her usual gaggle of friends, none of whom you could stand. They'd zero in on you the moment they spotted you alone, hurling the same passive-aggressive questions as always: "Oh, you're here alone again this year? How independent of you!"

The air caught in your throat at the thought. Not again. Not tonight.

You edged closer to the refreshment table, trying to look busy by fussing with a glass of eggnog. The bubbling anxiety gnawed at the edges of your mind, but then, as if summoned by some miracle—or maybe just sheer desperation—you saw him.

Armitage Hux, the last person you expected to be at a party like this.

He wasn’t mingling. Of course he wasn’t mingling. The man looked as out of place as a cat in a dog park. His tailored suit was immaculate, the dark fabric setting off his ginger hair and sharp features. His arms were crossed, his expression one of thinly veiled disdain as he surveyed the room with the air of someone who would rather be anywhere else.

But he was here, and more importantly, he was alone.

You’d worked with him tangentially—sort of. He was a consultant for a neighboring department at your firm, and while you’d only exchanged a handful of words, you knew one thing for certain: he was someone who commanded respect.

Or fear.

Either way, the idea struck like a bolt of lightning.

You could ask him to fake date you. Just for tonight.

You almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it, but then you caught sight of Lila again, her eyes narrowing as they landed on you. Time was running out.

You squared your shoulders, grabbed two champagne flutes, and approached Hux.

“Hi,” you greeted, forcing a smile and holding out the extra glass like a peace offering.

He raised one perfectly arched eyebrow, looking at you as if you’d just interrupted a very important thought.

“Yes?”

You resisted the urge to wither under his gaze. “I… I need your help.”

His other eyebrow joined the first. “My help?”

“Look,” you said, glancing over your shoulder toward Lila, who was now whispering to her friends and shooting pointed looks your way. “There’s this group of people here who always make my life miserable at these events, and I just—well, if I could pretend I wasn’t alone tonight, they’d leave me alone.”

Hux blinked slowly. “You want me to pretend to be your date?”

“Just for tonight,” you said quickly. “No strings, no weird expectations. Just stand near me, maybe talk to me every now and then, and let people assume we’re together. Please.”

He stared at you for a long moment, his green eyes piercing. You braced yourself for rejection, for mockery, for him to laugh in your face and leave you to fend for yourself.

But then he said, “Fine.”

“Fine?”

“Yes,” he said curtly, taking the champagne flute from your hand. “Let’s get this over with.”

It didn’t take long for the ruse to kick into effect.

Hux, to his credit, was an exceptional fake boyfriend. He stood close enough to you that no one would question your supposed relationship, but not so close as to make it uncomfortable. He offered you his arm when you moved through the room, and his sharp, dry wit kept even the most insistent small talkers at bay.

You found yourself relaxing in his presence, the initial awkwardness giving way to something almost… fun.

Lila, of course, made her move.

“Oh, wow,” she said, sidling up to you with an exaggerated smile. “I didn’t know you were bringing someone. Who’s this?”

“This is Armitage,” you said, keeping your voice steady. “My boyfriend.”

Her eyes flicked over to him, and for the first time in your life, you were grateful for Hux’s intimidating demeanor. Lila’s smile faltered for just a fraction of a second before she recovered.

“Boyfriend?” she repeated, her voice a shade too sweet. “How… unexpected.”

Hux, who had been sipping his champagne, gave her a cold, thin smile. “The best things in life often are.”

You almost choked on your drink.

Lila, flustered, made some excuse and quickly retreated, leaving you and Hux standing together in victorious silence.

“Thank you,” you said, your shoulders dropping as the tension left you.

Hux shrugged. “It was nothing. People like that are… predictable.”

“Still, I appreciate it. You’ve made this party a lot less miserable.”

He glanced at you then, his sharp features softening just slightly. “You’re welcome.”

As the evening wore on, you found yourself talking to Hux more than you’d anticipated.

It turned out that he had a dry sense of humor, one that matched your own. He wasn’t as cold and unapproachable as you’d once thought; he was just guarded. But beneath that icy exterior was someone who was intelligent, quick-witted, and—dare you say it—kind.

You told yourself not to read into it too much. This was just a favor, after all.

But as the party wound down and the crowd began to thin, you couldn’t help but feel a pang of disappointment at the thought of the night ending.

“You’ve done more than enough,” you said as you both stood near the exit, coats in hand. “You’re free to go. I mean, you were always free to go, but—”

“I’ll walk you home,” he interrupted, his tone brooking no argument.

“Oh. You don’t have to—”

“It’s late,” he said firmly. “And cold. I insist.”

You didn’t argue.

The walk back to your apartment was quiet, the snow falling softly around you. The city lights reflected off the white blanket covering the streets, casting everything in a golden glow.

“Thank you,” you said again, breaking the silence. “For tonight. Really.”

Hux looked at you, his expression unreadable. “You’ve already said that.”

“I know, but I mean it. You didn’t have to help me, but you did. That means a lot.”

He was silent for a moment, his breath visible in the frosty air. Then, he said, “You’re not as insufferable as most people. It wasn’t entirely unpleasant.”

You laughed, the sound echoing in the quiet night. “High praise coming from you.”

His lips twitched, the closest thing to a smile you’d seen all night.

When you reached your building, you turned to face him, suddenly unsure of what to say.

“Well,” you began awkwardly, “this is me.”

“So it is.”

“Thanks again. I guess I’ll see you around?”

He hesitated, his green eyes searching yours. Then, to your surprise, he reached out and tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

“Perhaps we should try this again sometime,” he said, his voice soft.

“Try what?”

“Pretending,” he said, though there was a hint of something in his tone that suggested he wasn’t entirely pretending anymore.

You felt your cheeks flush, the cold forgotten as you nodded. “I’d like that.”

And as he walked away, his coat billowing behind him, you couldn’t help but smile. Maybe, just maybe, fake dating Armitage Hux wasn’t such a ridiculous idea after all.

[henclair]

pushing my fall out boy kylux agenda publicly!!!

[brawlite]

some horror fic recs for october 👻

i wanted to put together a rec list of my favorite horror fics for the spookiest month. there are a bunch of different flavors of horror in here as well as a number of different fandoms, so hopefully you can find something that tickles your fancy (though ngl i would still rec reading these bad boys even if you don't know the fandoms at all).

i tried to tag tumblrs when/where i could find them, but if i couldn't, the author name links to ao3.

a reminder as always: this is horror—please read all the tags.

thanks for reading and i hope you find something to enjoy!

also, pretty please feel free to reblog and add your favorite horror fic recs.

👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪

the ghost apple tree by @thefearofcod

10k words, rated m song lan/xue yang/xiao xingchen (the untamed/mdzs) summary:

Fixing up a decaying house in the woods is the same as addressing your problems. (sxx is haunted)

brawls' notes: i think about this fic a lot; i'm haunted by it. this is by far one of my favorite horror stories i've ever read—the vibes are off-the-charts and horrific in a very visceral, tense way. made me feel weird (positive). i hope it makes you feel weird too (this is a threat).

—

convergence by @astrophyllitely

33k words, rated e lan zhan/lan xichen, lan zhan/jiang cheng (the untamed/mdzs) summary:

Lan Wangji regains consciousness in a crashed spaceship on an unfamiliar planet. He is not alone; Lan Xichen is there. He is not alone; Jiang Wanyin is there. But never both at once.

brawls' notes: space horror? check. psychological horror? check. uneasy and tense alien vibes? also check. beautiful push and pull of the narrative, paired with an an intense feeling of claustrophobia. there's a particular moment that had my heart right in my throat. stunning.

—

mockingbird by MarInk

82k words, rated e stiles stillinski/peter hale (teen wolf) summary:

Stiles works tirelessly to keep the roof over his heads and longs for a proper challenge for his brains. Peter chafes under his sister's authority and nurses big, bloody dreams. One day, the two are connected by a mistaken text message. One never knows who is on the other end of a wrong number. Sometimes it's somebody one will come to cherish and adore. Sometimes it's a ruthless, unapologetic monster. Sometimes it's both.

brawls' notes: sometimes you read something and are just blown away by it, forever altered. that's what this was for me. want a type of monster-au you've never seen before? this is it. also: ostensibly a wrong-number au, but don't be fooled. (i was.)

—

never meant by nonhicsumus

3k words, rated m alex krycek & dana scully (the x-files) summary:

Sometimes the past isn't worth digging into.

brawls' notes: whump and psychological horror? plus alex krycek?? my favorite. every word of this is perfection—i instantly wanted to read it again for the first time. you can.

—

fais do-do by @moku-youbi

18k words, rated e will graham/hannibal lecter (hannibal)

summary:

“Nothing is so painful to the human mind as a great and sudden change.” ― Mary Shelley, Frankenstein (this fic does not have a summary, but begins with this quote)

brawls' notes: a different-meeting au packed with everything you need for the perfect horror story: violence, blood, a chase scene, and an unreliable narrator. delightful.

—

blackbird, fly by @acroamatica

19k words, rated m kylo ren/armitage hux (star wars: tfa)

summary:

One sunny afternoon in the mountains of Washington state, Ben Organa-Solo walked out into the woods. He never came home. Six years later, a journalist specialising in missing-persons cold cases decides to follow his footsteps and see where they might lead.

brawls' notes: a masterpiece of vibes. this reads so much like a spooky mystery novel, but with a creeping, anxious dread. perfect for the season if you want that true autumnal sort of chill. i've carried this fic in my heart for nearly a decade now—it has inspired me in my own writing so much over the years.

—

grey stars on the rise by @iodhadh

4k words, rated e song lan/xue yang/xiao xingchen (the untamed/mdzs) summary:

Xiao Xingchen comes back. Xiao Xingchen comes back wrong. It takes too long, maybe, for Xue Yang to realize something is wrong with Song Lan too.

brawls' notes: the exact embodiment of: be careful what you wish for. brutal and crushing and so deeply, utterly satisfying. absolute yi-city perfection: the vibes are wretched but strangely romantic (chefs kiss).

—

half your life you've been hooked on death by @whatever-you-can-give-me

4k words, rated m vash the stampede/nicholas d. wolfwood (trigun) summary:

Wolfwood is cornered in an alleyway. Things get worse before they get better.

brawls' notes: and what's a horror rec list without a little bit of gore? whump and blood and near-death-experiences—oh my. this is brutal and feverish and exactly the right flavor.

—

black rock mountain by @bokuno-jinsei

24k words, rated e will graham/hannibal lecter (hannibal) summary:

Will is a hitchhiker with questionable hobbies. Hannibal is a man who has questionable motives. When Hannibal drives by Will who just so happens to need a ride, things quickly take a turn from the questionable to the downright depraved.

brawls' notes: you know That Fic that is really the epitome of that pairing for you? yeah, this is it for me. perfect alternate first-meeting fic. lives rent-free in my head.

👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪

and hey, why not be a little self-indulgent: i can't help but rec a few of my own horror fics here, too:

old growth

21k, rated m song lan/xue yang/xiao xingchen (the untamed/mdzs) summary:

There’s something in the woods outside of their hometown. Xue Yang and Song Lan are going to find it.

brawls' notes: i tried something new with the formatting on this one and i think it panned out solidly and was a desperately fun way to tell the story. this is full of spooky, sleepless forest vibes.

—

what's real or isn't

57k, rated e kylo ren/armitage hux (star wars: tfa) summary:

Hux's new house is not haunted. It isn't.

brawls' notes: i honestly love playing favorites and this is one of mine. this was a load of fun to write—it's chock-full of vibes, personal experiences, local history, and love notes to my favorite horror stories.

—

acquiesce

16k, rated e original luo binghe/original shen qingqiu (svsss) summary:

After seeing the gentle and loving Shen Qingqiu of the other world, Luo Binghe returns to his own with a hunger that can only be satisfied by one thing—a Shizun of his very own.

brawls' notes: this isn't spooky or haunted, but it is psychological horror—packed with nightmares, flashbacks, dread, and manipulation. enjoy!

👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪👻👁️🎃🔪

and that's it! hope you find something fun to read for this october 🖤

and again—please reblog and add your own horror recs if you are feeling so inclined!

[noiriarti]

fanfic masterlist!! ╰(*°▽°*)╯

Find me @noiriarti on tumblr and AO3!

Anakin Skywalker x Reader

Just Practice: (NSFW, modern best-friends-to-lovers kissing practice AU) Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Bonus Chapter / AO3 Link

Winner Takes It All: (NSFW, academic rivals to lovers modern AU) Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6, Ch. 7, Ch. 8, Ch. 9, Ch. 10 / AO3 Link

Trying New Things (NSFW)

Armitage Hux x Reader

Inappropriate: (NSFW) Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4 / AO3 Link

The Arrangement: (NSFW, modern roommates/cuddle-buddies AU) Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4, Ch. 5, Ch. 6 / AO3 Link

Born At Night: (NSFW, modern cam girl and cafe AU) Ch. 1 / AO3 Link

[enaelyork]

I'm back so i post this again. I hope everyone are fine !

Hey sweetie -

I'm feel a little better and i need to change my mind so i decide to ask your help.

✨My request is open for Imperial and First Order Character ✨

💫What i can do...

Write headcanon

Write short fanfics (Max 3 parts. Long fics is for my plot)

Write smut/Nfsw

Write humor, angst, fluff and many others things

Do Moodboard/Aesthetic (because i love it).

Take a little time for answer

Say no to a request that makes me uncomfortable.

💫What i can't ...

Write something that makes me uncomfortable.

Write something about minor and/or asking by minor.

So please feel free to ask me anything in my box. It's a safe place here for imperial stuff.

⭐Don't forget that I'm also helping to impoctober !⭐

[beezusvreeland]

now that we don't talk - chapter 6

summary: After being rejected by Poe, the two of you are assigned a mission together. And a lot can happen during a mission.

ship: poe dameron x f!reader

______________________________________________________________

Armitage Hux was talking to a group of First Order officials. As you and Poe got closer to them, it became clear that Hux was already a few drinks in. He had another in his hand, his red hair was messy and the first few buttons of his uniform’s jacket were open. 

“What exactly is our game plan here?”, Poe asked in your ear, his face so close to your neck, he could see that his question made the almost invisible hairs on the back of your head rise. A wave of pride overcame him. 

During the few seconds between his question and your answer, Poe was consumed by his thoughts, trying to establish a timeline in his mind. He couldn’t help but wonder: had it always been like that? Was that how your body had been reacting to him the whole time? And if it had, why wasn’t he paying attention? 

He was trying his best, channeling all the years of training and experience to focus on the task at hand. Otherwise, Poe would quickly succumb to the truth: the feeling, for him, might be new, but all he could see was you. 

You, however, seemed as focused as ever as you strolled confidently through the crowd. The dark green of your dress made you shine even more.

“Stay here and let me do my thing”, you whispered, barely looking at Poe. 

“But…”

“Just let me. And if you see me going anywhere, follow me, but be discreet.”

This bossy version of you was extremely annoying to Poe, who was used to being the leader, even if it was you commanding, there was still a part of him that wanted to rebel. This version of you also turned him on immensely, the proximity to you was killing him.

You had a job to do, Poe told himself. Focus on the mission. Now he had to be very alert, his priority was protecting you. It should be getting the notebook, sure, that was important, just not as your safety.

“Poe?”, you whispered back, taking him out of his day dreaming. 

“Fine. Go”, he didn’t mean to say it like that, annoyed and impatient. But before he could apologize, you were gone. Gone in Hux’s direction. Poe had a bad feeling about this.

He watched as you slowly approached Hux. You walk behind him and put a hand on his right arm, which made the man finally notice you. His eyes went wide, looking at you from head to toe. Hux started talking to you, but to Poe’s fury, he wasn’t looking at your face, just your chest. Hux’s face was getting redder than his own hair. In part because of all the drinking, but the other…Were you adjusting your dress so your chest would be more prominent? You got closer to him, saying something in his ear. 

And that’s when Poe finally understood. He was so stupid, it was so obvious that this was going to happen. You were seducing Hux to get the notebook from him. That was a terrible plan, he never thought you would be the type of agent to do it. 

Poe was seething, his look intense enough to burn through Armitage Hux’s body. He just wanted to get you out of there and go back home, notebook be damned. Except, you were obviously not letting that happen. You laughed at something Hux said, the sound was very different from the one Poe knew — and missed dearly. The redhead’s eyes widen more as you say something else in his ear. 

And then Poe sees green in movement. He has no idea where you are going, as much as it pained him, he decided to trust you and follow your lead. Hux follows you after a few seconds, walking towards the stairs. Poe goes after him, holding his blaster under his coat, close enough to act if it came down to it, but far enough not to be noticed so soon.

After two flights of stairs, you enter a corridor, Hux right after you, stumbling and almost falling on the carpet. Though downstairs looked like a creepy nightmare, the other parts of the house were very nice. It was colorful, like its owners, but not in an overwhelming way. Poe had to give it to Jib and Boq: the place must be really cozy when it’s not covered in First Order propaganda. 

Looking ahead, Poe sees you stopping by a droid waiter and getting two glasses. Were you planning on getting Hux even drunker than he already was? Poe could feel his stomach turning, he shouldn’t have let you do your plan. Even though Hux seemed kind of an idiot, he could still be dangerous. The more intoxicated he got…

Hux caught up with you and grabbed your arm, pushing you behind the long crimson curtain that covered one of the floor’s many majestic windows and went in after you. Once he was out of sight, Poe walked as fast as he could — running would definitely blow their cover — and squatted in front of the curtain, getting closer to hear what was happening. 

It started with Hux saying your full name.

Poe took his blaster out, by instinct but also knowing there was no one else around in that corridor. Years of war and espionage had taught him to recognize movement through the sounds around him whenever his sight was compromised. 

The same ability let him know, by the sound of your heels, that Hux was getting closer to you. It sounded like you were stepping back from him.

“I never thought I’d ever see you again”, Hux said. 

You answer Hux with a soft laugh, using a different type of voice than normal. It was…seductive. 

Poe held his blaster tighter. 

“Indeed it’s been a long time since we last saw each other”, you said. “I know that we weren’t the closest back then, but I hear you’re doing great things for our galaxy.”

“Oh, yes, I’m one of the top officers of the First Order.”

That was a lie. He had a privileged position, yes, but he was just a pawn in Kylo Ren’s game. Absolutely disposable. 

“Well, I’ll drink to that”, you give him one of the glasses. “From old acquaintances to good…friends. I hope.”

Hux laughed nervously and then drank the liquid. 

“Look at you…what a beautiful woman you’ve become.”

“Thank you. I certainly am not that awkward kid anymore”, you stepped closer to Hux.

And got closer to you. 

“Oh, you’ve always been a sight to behold. But I must say you’re even more beautiful now that you stopped worshiping those disgusting rebels from the Resistance.”

Poe was about to either vomit or shoot Hux. He hated everything that was coming from his mouth. From both of your mouths. 

“Oh, yes, what a silly girl I was”, your voice got lower, as if you were almost whispering. 

Hux’s breathing became erratic and it didn’t seem to be just from his nervousness. 

“But now I’m a woman…”

The curtain moved a bit, someone’s foot almost hitting Poe. His ears picked up the sound of…kissing. Trying to stop his hands from shaking, he checked his blaster — he was good to go. 

The agitation inside the curtain didn’t stop. Desperate, Poe got up and went to the side where Hux was. He was about to tear the curtain apart when it all became silent. What had that idiot done to you? Poe pushes the curtain and walks in with his blaster pointed to where Hux was supposed to be. 

To Poe’s horror, Hux was all over you. He moved quickly to take him away from you, you said: “He’s passed out. I’m okay. Let’s sit him next to the wall”. 

Poe did so, trying to hold his anger from everything that had just happened. 

“Was that all from the drinking?”, Poe asked, breathing loudly.

“Yes…The sedative on his last drink might’ve helped, though.”

Poe’s eyes widened. 

“What do you mean…?”

“Oh, shush. It’s a little something to put him to sleep, he’s not gonna die or anything.”

You crouched near Hux, opening his suit coat, searching for internal pockets. After a few tries, you smiled at Poe.

“Jackpot.”

You take the thing that was holding your hair out, letting it down. The accessory was actually a small knife. Poe didn’t quite know why, but he found that extremely hot. He also had never seen you with your hair down. He hated Armitage Hux even more now than he ever did, which was saying a lot, but had to agree with the man on one thing: you were incredibly beautiful. 

Taking the knife in your hand, you got closer to Hux’s right side and opened more of his coat. You use the knife to rip out the seams of what looked like a fake pocket. Inside it was that damn notebook. That thing better be worth it, Poe had never been so nervous and worried his whole life. 

You got up and opened Poe’s coat like it was nothing and put the notebook inside one of his pockets. He felt like he could barely breathe. 

“Seems like some guests are having too much fun…”, a voice said in the corridor. You and Poe looked at each other scared. You couldn’t get caught, you had just retrieved the notebook, after going through so much trouble. 

“I don’t care what they’re doing, as long as they don’t ruin my curtain or my rug.”

Poe puts one of his fingers in front of his lips, asking you to stay quiet. He got in front of you and pointed the blaster in the direction of the voices. 

“Your curtain, huh? We shall see.”

The curtain is pushed and if it had been a millisecond before, Poe would’ve taken the shot. Jib and Boq’s shocked faces were the only thing that held him back. The hosts were speechless, seconds lasted hours. You took a turn around you, and Poe could see your expression changing as you realized how bad that scene looked.

“He’s not dead”, it’s the only thing you had to offer.

Boq stepped in, which allowed him to get a closer look to the stranger on the floor. He sighed, putting his hands on his hips.

“I wouldn’t blame you if he was”, Boq said, calmly. “This idiot has been the pointiest and nastied rock inside our expensive shoes.”

Poe looked at you and saw you were staring back at him. He almost unnoticeably pointed his head in the direction of the blaster. You answered with a curt nod. Poe then took his blaster down and put it back into his holster. 

Jib came closer and stood next to his partner. 

“So…resistance, huh?”, he said. 

“Yes”, Poe answered shortly. “Is that a problem?”

“Buddy, we don’t have any problems if it helps us not being forced to turn our sanctuary into a First Order lair.”

“Thank you so much, Jib. Hopefully we get to help you and more people across the galaxy”, you said, a bit more relaxed. 

Jib’s eyes sparkle. 

“Ah, you’re a goddamn delight”, he said and turned to Poe. “You’re a very lucky guy.”

“I know.”

On his periphery, Poe could sense your surprise. You cleared your throat.

“Can you help us out of here? Without causing more of a scene?”

Jib and Boq looked at each other and then back at you, grinning. 

“Absolutely.”

Poe only understood Jib and Boq’s excitement when they opened a secret passage in their room. 

“If someone wants to take our lives, they’ll have to work for it”, Boq explained, seeing the confused looks of you two. 

The door, like the rest of the wall, was made of a beautiful type of light wood. It was glistening. Boq started talking about the planet where he and Jib bought the wood, but the latter interrupted. 

“Focus on the task at hand, honey.”

The door led to a small room with only a glass table in the center. On top of it, there was a flower arrangement. The room’s other door, though, took you to a flight of stairs. 

“You’ll end up inside our garage. It should make your walk to your ship shorter and safer”, said Jib.

“Once again, thank you for helping us. Hopefully, you’ll have a future lacking the First Order”, said Poe, in his “I’m on a mission and mean business” voice. 

“Yes, we’re very grateful. I hope you can get these tacky people out of your lives as soon as possible.”

They laughed.

“Delightful”, said Jib. “Now go before the devil wakes up!”

And so, you and Poe went to the stairs.

______________________________________________________________

<< chapter 5

all chapters

______________________________________________________________

Dear readers,

It took me long enough, but here we are with a new chapter. Fun fact: the curtain scene was what moved me to write this fic. I had the idea an @d it wouldn't leave me until I wrote it. So here it is.

Thank you so much for reading. Please let me know what you think in the comments.

💌 Read my miguel o'hara x reader fic, 'dear reader'

💌 Read my miguel o'hara/reader high school fic, 'a very good idea'

💌Read my santiago garcia fic, 'santi's journal'

💌 I'm on ao3!

Take care!

Love, The writer

______________________________________________________________

tags 💖

@littleshadow17 @multifandomsw @steven-grants-world

@lizispunkk @torntaltos @nervousmumbling

@arysbruv @hardbeingcasual @adriiibell