#kylo ren x officer!reader | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

abigailywrites · 1 month ago

Text

whirlpool [kylo ren x reader]

ao3 / ko-fi

rating: t word count: 4k warnings: none

You aren’t sure what you’re supposed to be. A single, isolated X-wing painted in Resistance orange floating through space towards a First Order cruiser…

“Reason with him…” General Organa had asked you. Leia had asked you.

Reason... There is nothing reasonable about this. At any moment you could be blown to pieces, scattered across space. You’re sure the only thing keeping you alive is the mass, hysterical confusion that’s keeping the officers on the inside from giving the order to shoot. Yet, you press on. You press on because of the pleas of a mother. Someone’s mother. His mother. No, you are not Reason.

“It wouldn’t be an official mission,” she had said. “It wouldn’t even go on the books. It’s more of a covert operation. You’d be a spy, almost.”

Spy. Is that what you are? You’ve been a spy before. Spies don’t fly in the face of those they’re spying on. Spies hide to gather information, bring it back to the good guys, and beat the bad guys. Spies have a plan for getting into where they need to go. They have a plan for getting back out again. You are not a spy.

“Even if I could talk to him, he wouldn’t listen to me,” she had said. “But he might listen to you. You’re my last hope of getting through to him.”

Hope. Yes, that’s what you’re supposed to be, but it fits you wrong like a shirt that’s too tight across the chest. The title is a constraint; it presses you in. The weight of it is heavier, more crushing than your fear. You are Leia’s last hope that Ben will come home - a single, shaky X-wing fighter who is supposed to bring a boy back from the dead. How can you represent hope when you have none of your own?

The radio lights up. “Hold it, Resistance scum,” a voice warns. “We have you on your screens now. Identify, or we’ll shoot.”

They might just do so anyway, you remind yourself. “Diplomatic mission from the Ileenium System,” you manage in a wavering voice. “Ambassador transport requesting deactivation of the deflector shields.”

Nothing but static. Of course, what did you expect? Any moment now, you’ll be blasted into the cold vacuum of space. But a presence is whispering in the back of your mind. It finds the first loose stone in the wall around your mind and latches onto the opening until it’s all you can think about.

In a rage, you flick on the radio. “And if Kylo Ren is there,” you add. “Tell him that if he doesn’t let me in, I’ll tattle to his mother about him.” But, of course, he’s there. There’s no one else in the galaxy whose mere presence could inspire the same rage in you. There’s no one else whose presence you would feel as potently.

That’s why you’re not surprised when the disgruntled officer’s voice comes over the radio again. “Clearance granted. Land in hangar two in the north quadrant.” He sounds disappointed like he had been hoping for a fireworks show.

You confirm and comply. Here it is before you: the moment of truth. You can see as plain as day how it will unfold. You’ll tell Ren you’re there to win him back, and he’ll laugh in your face and run his saber through you. He’ll tell himself it was justified. He’ll believe he is in the right. It’s what you deserved for refusing to join him when he offered it. After all, he’d given you one chance already. If you were lucky and if he was feeling merciful, he might keep you alive long enough to give you a second chance which you would flatly refuse once again. And the Dark Side will pull him in further and further into delusion until there isn’t even a memory of who he used to be.

But Leia had asked you to do this.

The army of stormtroopers that you expect to be at hangar two is not there. No one is there. The hangar is vacant as far as the eye can see. But there’s that presence again, sucking you in like a whirlpool. Oh, there is someone there. Someone who doesn’t want you to see him.

He’s watching you; you can feel it. He’s watching as you sit for another five minutes in your X-wing, gritting your teeth and steeling your nerves. He watches as you slap your cheek once just to get the blood flowing again, and he watches as you climb out of the ship and land firmly on the ground. In his territory, now.

“Well,” you say to the empty air. “Don’t be a coward, Ren. I’m unarmed, which is more than I can say of you.”

The silence rings in your ears until you hear his voice. Oh, Maker, you hear his voice, same as ever it was. “It’s been a long time.” He doesn’t call you love. That endearment used to punctuate every other sentence Ben Solo muttered to you. Not anymore.

“Not long enough,” you spit out. “I’m not here to talk to thin air, Kylo. If you don’t show yourself—”

“You’ll tattle to my mother about me?” He’s so close now. Just behind you with a voice that is suddenly modulated and stiff. Maker, you could turn around and see him if you wanted to. “You’re one of her Resistance pilots now, I see.”

Your fingers curl into fists. “Did the bright orange flight suit give it away?”

“It seems a pity to me. There was a time when you would have made a brilliant Jedi.”

At this, you turn, and you see his mask staring back at you. Empty. Emotionless. Dark and foreboding. One look and you’re beginning to understand what it must have been like to see Darth Vader in the flesh. Kylo’s fantasy leaking into a horrifying reality.

Still, you don’t stutter. “Is that your idea of a joke?” you grit, wishing to the stars you had your blaster so you could make him regret it.

He doesn’t answer you. His head tilts to the side, and his mechanical voice is almost soft when it says, “You haven’t changed…”

You wish your heart didn’t thud the way it did when he said that. “I wish I could say the same about you,” you reply. You can’t bear to face him any longer, and you can only hope that he doesn’t notice when you lower your eyes.

But he doesn’t have to notice. He could read you backward and forwards. He could recite you like a poem. He doesn’t have to notice that your eyes lower. All he has to do is look for your mind and find your fear. “You’re afraid of the mask.” He states it so matter-of-factly, not even giving you a chance to rebuff it. As if you would. Lying to him about anything is pointless. “Don’t be afraid.”

“I’m not,” you snap suddenly, meaning it truly. You aren’t afraid of the helmet. You’re afraid of what’s underneath. You’re afraid that behind the facade there is a man—a creature—who still looks and sounds like Ben Solo. That is the fear that is radiating off of you.

Which is why he reaches up and removes the helmet.

It’s the familiarity of his face that strikes you first. It’s how it could have been another day at the academy… Another day of staring at watery brown eyes that used to make you happy just by their being. It’s how in a different life, those eyes might have smiled at you again. It’s the fact that despite everything, he still has Ben’s face, just like you feared. You lower your eyes again, and this time, you do not look up.

“I take it that General Organa is still leading the Resistance?” he questions.

You cringe at the impersonal way he chooses to refer to his own mother. “She is,” you confirm.

“Of course. Who else could inspire such loyalty in you?”

Kriff, you want to scream at him. Ben could have! Ben used to! Ben still would if there was a scrap of him alive somewhere! “Yeah, who else…?” you say instead.

“What about Han Solo?”

“Haven’t heard from your father or Chewie for a year,” you huff. “If you care about your family so much, why don’t you go back home and ask after them yourself?”

Out of the corner of your eye, you notice him look away from you. It’s only then that you get the courage to look at him directly. The sight of his nose in profile, his hair tousled back from his face… It’s almost too much, but you can’t make yourself look away. You don’t want to look away.

“Don’t ask me that,” he demands through gritted teeth.

“I’ll ask whatever the kriff I want,” you answer back the same way. “What are you going to do? Kill me? I came here with every expectation that you would.”

“Why did you come?” he asks.

The answer is becoming far more nuanced than the one you give. “Because your mother asked me to. She misses you.”

He turns back to you and fixes you in his gaze. He tilts his head, looks down his nose at you. “What about you? Do you miss me?”

You take a step towards him. You’re so close that you have to tilt your head up to look at him properly. You hope he can feel your breath on his face. You want it to sting. “I miss Ben Solo,” you whisper to him. “I don’t know who you are.”

Kylo grips your arms, and you’re sure he’ll leave bruises the size of his fingertips. “I am stronger and wiser than Ben Solo ever could have been,” he insists. “But in every other way, I’m the same. Can’t you see that?”

You wrench yourself away from his grasp. “Don’t you dare claim to be anything like Ben,” you say, warning hanging in your voice. “Ben was kind. Ben was gentle and scared. Don’t you dare.”

“You know so much and yet so little,” he counters. “If you only knew what kind of power you could have.”

“I don’t need power!” you say. “I never needed power. I just needed you!”

He’s staring at you like you just stabbed him, and it’s only then that you realize your mistake.

“Ben,” you correct yourself. “I needed Ben.”

Still, he says nothing and stays statue-still. It gives you time to notice how darkly the Force is moving around him. Time to notice the presence of stormtroopers outside the door, no doubt waiting for Ren’s command if you don’t comply with his wishes. He’s backing you into a wall.

“There’s no point,” you say after a pregnant pause. “No point in trying to convert me. I made my choice years ago.”

“So did I,” he finally says. “You have to realize that I can’t let you go. Not like I did the first time.” At this, the doors open. The legion of stormtroopers flood in.

“Of course,” you respond after a shuddering breath. “How could I expect anything different from you?”

Two troopers come to grab your arms and haul you to a restraining cell before Kylo can respond. You don’t see him for days afterward. In those days, you’re not interrogated or tortured, which defies your expectations. But except for a rotating guard and food once a day, you’re left completely alone which is arguably worse. It gives you too much time alone with your thoughts, and every time you remember Kylo’s face when you told him you needed him is worse than being flayed.

When he finally comes to see you, he’s maskless, but his face is hardened. He sits across from you and doesn’t speak for a long while.

You don’t want to be the first to talk, but the silence is killing you. “Can I help you?” you say at last.

“Do you remember when you first came to the Academy?” he asks.

“Yes, because it was you who asked me to.”

“Because I knew you were strong. I knew what kind of power you could one day hold.”

You smile a bitter smile and tilt your head to the side. “And all along I thought it was because you wanted me there with you.”

Perhaps he would never admit it, but you know him as well as he knows you. You notice the subtle shift in his jaw when he clenches his teeth. You notice the vein in his temple throb.

Nevertheless, he doesn’t give you the dignity of a response. Instead, he says, “You mean to tell me that you haven’t continued to study the Force in all this time?”

“Why would I?”

“You could have become strong enough to defeat me.”

You look down at your open hands. Hands that could have killed him, if you had practiced more. Luke had asked you to before he disappeared. He had told you all about the balance that it was his duty to keep. A duty he couldn’t fulfill as a master without an apprentice. Still, you had refused. You were not the right person for the job, you had told him. What you hadn’t said was that you never could have killed Ben… Kylo… If it had come down to it, you would have failed. And you wouldn’t have been able to stop him.

“You would have killed me anyway,” you answer. “You were always going to, weren’t you?”

“I wouldn’t—”

“Stop lying to me,” you snap before he can finish his sentence. “You came into that hangar intending to kill me if I refused you again. I may be rusty, but my senses are still attuned enough to tell that much.”

“Yet, you’re still alive,” he points out. “Don’t you wonder why that is?” You look away from him, and you don’t see it when he leaves.

He’s gone for days again, and you begin to crave the sight of him. It makes you wish for a firing squad. How long will you be able to last like this? The Resistance has your loyalty, you have to remind yourself. Leia has your loyalty. The idea of a free galaxy has your loyalty. But Ben has your loyalty too, and there’s a tyrant who parades around with his face.

The next time you see him, he doesn’t waste any time with silence. “Why is it that you refuse to understand me?” he says. His voice is strained like he’s being choked. “I want to show you everything that Skywalker never would. I want to make you powerful as I have become.”

“I’ve already told you that I don’t want power,” you answer, keeping your eyes on your hands. You don’t want to look at him. You don’t want to become addicted to the sight of him. “Poor seduction tactic.”

After a moment, he kneels in front of you. You see his gloved hand slip into yours before you feel it. Every one of your limbs has gone numb, and you have to squeeze your eyes shut. “Look at me,” he demands coolly.

You don’t have the strength to refuse him. You open your eyes without a thought, without time to regret it. There’s Ben’s face, regardless of who is wearing it.

You aren’t sure if it’s him leaning in to capture you or you leaning in from complete desperation for him, but it doesn’t matter. He’s kissing you, and you’re kissing him back. The cracks in your resolve travel and widen until the whole thing is shattered on the ground.

He gathers you to himself as he stands, his hands pressing hard into your back as he lifts you. Your hands are tangling and tugging on his hair which elicits a low, dangerous noise from his throat. Maker, you shouldn’t be doing this, but that noise… the feeling of his mouth moving against yours… You’ve been so tired, and you don’t want it to stop.

He pulls away from you, his nose still brushing against yours. He’s breathing hard. His hot breath in your open mouth stings. “Do you want me to stop?” he whispers.

You hate him for it. He’s in your mind, sensing your thoughts. He knows as well as you do that you don’t want it to end. So, you don’t answer, and let him kiss the curve of your jaw, under your earlobe, down your neck. He doesn’t see the angry, bitter tears rolling down your cheeks.

You’re pulling him closer by his hair, all the while muttering inaudibly. “I’m sorry I couldn’t protect you. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

He’s muttering, too, as his fingers bunch the fabric of your shirt. Of all the things he’s saying, only one sentence comes through clearly. “Please, let me show you who I am… Please…”

But you have no interest in who he is now, and you realize that as soon as you can comprehend what he’s saying. You’re letting him kiss you because he has the face of a dead boy, and he’s kissing you to destroy you.

“I want Ben back,” you gasp suddenly and louder than all of the words you’ve spoken thus far.

He stills completely at this, and the Force flows darker around him than it ever has before. After a moment’s hesitation, he lets go of you completely and leaves the cell without giving you so much as a look at his face.

You see him again when you’ve lost count of how long you’ve been in that same restraining cell. The bruises he left on your neck have already darkened and faded. There’s no physical remnant of the last time you saw him. So, why can you still feel him all over you?

Then without any warning, he walks through the door. He sits next to you, close enough to touch, once again silent and contemplating. You’ve already had enough of silence. “Aren’t you going to say something?” you question.

“I’m thinking,” he says.

“Oh, well,” you scoff. “Excuse me.”

Another long silence before he says, “You’ve never been tortured here, have you?”

“Define torture.”

“I don’t know if you would survive it,” he says, ignoring your quip. “You’re strong, but there are few people who are strong enough to survive the methods the First Order employs for an extended period.”

You hummed. “Is that what you’re planning on, then?” you ask.

“No. Not to you,” he snaps immediately. “But it’s what others in the ranks are planning on. I’m trying to decide what to do about it.”

“Oh,” you whisper. No more questions. You had pressed him enough already, but you long to peer into his mind and discover what’s going on.

“Why are you prodding?” Kylo asks you.

“Didn’t mean to…”

“But you want to know,” he says. “You want to know if I would let them torture you. Or maybe I would do it myself. Watch you bleed and suffer. Push you past your breaking point. Wait for you to beg to learn from me, but it would be too late. Do you think I would? You can ask.”

You remain silent, eyeing him skeptically.

He sighs, and your heart hurts for how tired he sounds. “You still don’t trust me.”

“You just described torturing me,” you answer. “That’s hardly grounds for establishing trust.”

“And nothing else would?”

Despite yourself, you smile. “The kissing didn’t do much for me on that front if that’s what you’re asking.”

“But doesn’t it tell you anything?” he asks. His voice has become desperate, almost pleading. It drops the smile right off of your face. “Doesn’t it explain why you haven’t been tortured the entire time you’ve been here? Doesn’t it explain why I didn’t kill you? Why I couldn’t kill you? I should. I should do it right now. But I can’t, because every time it crosses my mind I start to collapse. There is something weak and detestable in me that is still clinging to you.”

He tilted his head until he was looking at you. How reminiscent the scene was. How often you used to see him just like this, sitting side-by-side and spilling your souls in words neither that were simultaneously incomprehensible and true. And then you saw him. For the first time in years, you saw Ben Solo alive and buried deep. A faint spark somewhere in the darkness.

Slowly, you began, “Could it be that you still love me somewhere deep down?”

He looks away from you and down. “Would it matter?” he questions. “I seem to recall you saying that you want Ben Solo back.”

“It matters,” you promise him. Of course, it does. Kylo Ren isn’t capable of love. If there is any part of him that loves you still, that’s the part of him where Ben Solo is still struggling for life. “It matters to me.”

Then slowly, fearfully, you reach for his hand. You just barely brush your fingertips into his palm at first. There is no warmth there. No cold either. Just a leather glove separating your fingers from his skin. It makes you pause and wonder if you’re being reckless when he doesn’t respond. Oh, but then… His fingers wrap around yours slowly with just as much fear. Leather glove or not, that’s Ben’s hand. It couldn’t be anyone else’s.

The pair of you remain like that for another thirty minutes while you let him think. He squeezes your hand before he leaves.

He doesn’t let days pass this time. He’s back within a couple of hours with a pair of handcuffs that he claps on your wrists without a word, but he looks into your eyes and nods. Just that is enough to make you feel safe. He leads you through the halls of the cruiser with his hand on your lower back. If anyone questions this, they don’t say. You guess that no one wants to openly question Kylo Ren.

You reach hangar two, and it’s just as empty as it was when you first landed in it. A shuddering sigh escapes you when you see your X-wing looking as good and new waiting for you.

Behind you, Kylo leans down to whisper in your ear. “If you leave now,” he says, “Never come back. Don’t even think of it. Don’t ever try.”

If… There shouldn't be an 'if.' He's offering you an escape, and that should by all rights be your only option. But you know he's offering more. You know he's waiting for you to turn to him and say, "And what if I stay?"

But you can't bring yourself to. "Understood," you say instead. A faithful subordinate taking an order from a commander. Impersonal and cold.

Now would be the ideal moment to walk away, but you feel cemented where you are. How can you truly leave him? That spark you saw is glowing brighter every second.

"What would you do if I stayed?" you finally ask, knowing full well the danger of a hypothetical.

"I'd get on my knees and pray to you," he says. "I'd do whatever you wanted."

"Would you become Ben again?" you ask.

He hesitates just a moment. "I'd let you call me Ben."

At last, you turn to face him. You're dangerously close. "That’s not the same,” you point out.

He doesn't have an answer for that, and you don't have time to wait for one. You're able to rip your eyes away from him just long enough to throw a glance over your shoulder to your ship. It's time you returned to the Resistance.

But he's grabbing your hand and bringing it to his face, eyes closed as your knuckles graze his cheek. “Stay,” he breathes.

“I can’t,” you tell him.

“Please, love, stay with me,” he whispers, pleading.

It’s breaking your heart, knowing that you have to leave to where he can’t follow. How easily you can imagine that spark of Ben fading away if you leave him now. You suppose that’s why you reach up to hold the side of his head just to feel him lean into your touch. It’s why you stand up on your tiptoes and press your lips to his.

It’s nothing like your last kiss. It’s not the whirlpool drawing you in before you can stop it. Instead, it’s the slow, gentle rhythm of the tide lapping on the shore and fading back out.

Heat turns to warmth. Fear turns to hope. A hope that floods so much so that when you pull away, you keep your forehead against his and say, “Find me somewhere.”

“Where?”

“Away from here. Away from the Resistance. Find me.”

He nods and lets you go.

#mine #my writing #kylo ren x reader #kylo x reader #star wars #star wars x reader #ben solo x reader #kylo ren #ben solo

100 notes · View notes

magicbystarlight · 3 months ago

Text

Star Crossed — Prologue

Hux x Reader, Ren x Reader

Summary: Years after leaving behind your life as a Jedi, an unexpected encounter forces you to confront the past you wanted to forget. Divider.

Warnings: 18+, canon-typical violence, sexually explicit scenes later, additional warnings as needed. Minors DNI.

Word Count: 1.1k

Lieutenant Atrox stalks through the halls, his face pulled taut with displeasure. It’s an expression you've grown familiar with in these last three months. You’re on his heels, nonetheless, with a datapad clutched tightly to your chest.

The Lieutenant and yourself had only arrived on board the Finalizer the night before from the Exheres System. He had spent the the time drunk while you spent it combing through three years worth of trade routes, ship manifests, store inventories, and planetary exports. It had been to quell the nagging feeling you’d gotten during a review of the last audit of an inconsequential clothing shop on an inconsequential planet, but it had paid off.

"Please, sir, if you would just listen I can—"

"I don’t have time for your theories. Ren will be here at any moment."

An unnecessary reminder. The headache that plagues you is evidence enough that the Sith had already boarded and subjected some poor soul to the Force. A day early of his expected arrival. Normally, you'd have found sanctuary far from any Force User. Twice before you'd been on the same vessel as Kylo Ren and twice before you'd shoved yourself into a dark corner far, far away. But this is important.

You hope.

"But I found it, sir. There's a bimonthly shipment of polyfibe that—“

“Polyfibe is the most common fabric in the galaxy.”

The hallway ends at two large doors. They open with a whoosh, revealing a room with a long table. It’s thankfully still empty. “It is, but it can’t be made on Sentrena which is where the shipments originate. Or any of the planets in that star system. They don’t have the proper resources or machinery.”

His steps came to a halt with a defeated sigh as the doors shut. “Could it be imported and shipped from there?”

“If they wanted the price quintupled.”

“Some people are stupid with their money.”

“Yes, but,” the datapad lit up as your fingers work deftly to bring up the list, “there’s no inventory of polyfibe or anything made of polyfibe in the shop.”

He takes the offered tablet, eyes roving over the list. His brows scrunch and he shoves it back into your hands. "When is the next shipment?”

“Today.”

“Send a squad to intercept.”

“Thank you, Lieutenant.”

His fingers grip your upper arm, pulling you back harshly as you try to turn. “You better be right about this or you’ll find yourself shoveling shit somewhere for wasting my time.”

A nod in understanding is all you muster before he releases his grip. Scurrying away, the door barely opens in time for you to squeeze through. Or at least, you thought you had before you collided with a solid surface.

With a glance up, you meet the icy gaze of General Armitage Hux. A scowl adorns his face as it has in every hologram you've ever seen of him. “Watch where you’re going.”

“Yes, sir. Sorry, sir.”

You can hear the sneer in his voice as you continue past him. "I'll never understand why we use civilians for secretaries."

—

"Chromafiber?"

The hologram of Sergeant Eviena is shaky, but her voice comes through clear. "Yes. It appears they were making suits of it."

You nod, pacing the small, sterile office. “For camouflage. Stealth suits.” Chromafiber is expensive and difficult to work with in unskilled hands. "The best money could buy. Who are they for?"

"They wouldn’t say, but" she reaches into her pocket and produces what appears to be a clothing patch with a familiar, flame-like insignia, "we found a batch of these hidden away."

It’s the worst case scenario. You expected smuggling of some sort, perhaps avoiding taxes or bringing in some other outlawed substance. But they’ve been providing a lethal advantage to the Resistance, possibly for years. “Detain them. Send me every file you find. On the ship, in the shop, on any droid. Everything."

Despite you having no authority to give such commands, Evenia nods. “Yes ma’am.”

The hologram dissolves and you’re left alone once more. You don’t linger to soak in the victory, retracing your steps across the ship to where the meeting had been taking place. It’s been nearly two hours since you left and you've heard nothing on comms about them being finished. By the closed doors and the sweating lower officers waiting just beside them, it’s safe to assume the meeting continued. The pain in your head is dull. A good sign. Perhaps Atrox will be in a decent mood for once.

You wait, leaning against a wall further down a hallway that leads the opposite way of the docks. Two dozen reports have already chimed on your datapad. They’re easy enough to run through the programs you’d created to find key phrases, locations, names, patterns, etc. There’s nothing the programs recognize in them, but names pop out to you as you skim. They’re all common names. Too common.

Fake names designed to be overlooked. You’ll have to consider adding a program to make sure something like this isn’t missed again. You pull information aside as you continue to scroll, letting it drop in a new document for later review. No matter how well they hid their connections, there was always a trace left behind.

A commotion has you looking up. The doors open and the sounds of someone in hysterics floods the corridor. A man backs out of the room, pleading. Only one person inflicts that sort of fear. You don’t have time to flee.

Pain erupts in your skull. Blinding, burning white pushes from every corner. Something cracks. You try to resist, to push back against the Force, but it’s too much, too close, too late. A locked door that had held for more than a decade splinters and explodes beneath the pressure. The pain disapperates, but it’s no relief. Every part of the world around you turns bright and vibrant, connected and overwhelming. A sense suppressed for so long snapped back like a rubberband.

There’s a hand on your face. Green eyes boring into yours. "I love you." Brown Eyes. "Stay with me." Yellow eyes. Blinding red.

Gasping, ragged breaths drag air back into your deprived lungs. Cold seeps through the gloves. Your hands are on the floor. Shattered datapad between them. Black boots behind it.

He sinks to his knees. “You’re alive.” The robotic overlay can’t hide his surprise. Fingers on your chin make you stare into the abyss of a mask. Kylo Ren. But beneath the mask you feel him. A twisted, darker version, but still him. Alive.

Ben Solo is alive.

#general hux x reader #armitage hux x reader #kylo ren x reader #ben solo x reader #star wars x reader

116 notes · View notes

ladythornofrivia · 11 months ago

Text

MY SCAVENGER || Kylo Ren!Aemond x Rey!Reader

a/n: i’ve been thinking about what one-shot I should do next. Though I’m currently writing Saltburn fanfic, I love Star Wars. Even Reylo! Have fun reading! (Some dialogue in the beginning doesn’t belong to me. It belongs to the movie.)

warnings: interrogation, torture kink, lust at first sight, breeding kink, p in v sex, fight scene, violence, aemond has issues, loss of virginity, aemond is a d*ck, kink size, obsessive aemond, dom/sub, aemond not only uses the power of force on reader but also with his d*ck. Bl*wjob, degradation kink, creampie

pair: aemond x reader

Somewhere in the galaxy far away, the leader of the First Order, Aemond Targaryen, was hunting for the map that’ll lead him to Daemon Targaryen, the last Jedi ever existed. Or so he believed.

While Aemond knew the legends of his uncle and his journey as a Jedi warrior, but those who commanded under Aemond’s order and leadership, not a soul in a galaxy believed Daemon ever existed, not in the history textbooks or screens. The stormtroopers only meant to serve their skilled leader.

As young as he was, Aemond Targaryen is known for his cold and calculating nature. He kept his helmet on, under any circumstances, and wields a red lightsaber. Tall and lethal, no one really knew what he looked like—it left to the imagination far and wide, leading his troops picturing of his appearance. Aemond wouldn’t dare make his troops or his other commanding officers enter his private quarters.

In the galaxy, everyone feared him.

Until you.

A nobody living in the stories of galaxy.

Hunting for scraps and leftovers for the sake of small profit to keep on living. Finding rare scraps in Jakku, was meddlesome. A nightmare. Filled in stacks of desert sand and humid waves lingered and pierced your skin.

Deserted land has been your home. And in your home, inside the AT-AT Walker, after you scratch another tally mark on the metallic wall, you cooked a loaf of bread and fried vegetables and scraps of thin meat. You wondered when your life will begin anew with reborn purpose. A nobody, in the galactic space, hoped your family would return.

You hoped that your life isn’t meaningless.

Jakku has been destroyed; in chaos, you’re forced to leave—of taking refuge, but more companions in your journey agreed that Jakku is nothing but a junkyard, and there you met a legendary shooter and a Wookie Warrior. But the plans failed.

For Aemond Targaryen spotted the map to Daemon Tarygaryen’s location. But the expectant acquirance wasn’t the astromech, droid BB8, rather, something far more interesting.

Aemond captured you—after minutes of chase and defense in the thickened forest. “Bring the girl,” he ordered, as your body fell to unconsciousness by the force, as he carried you and fled away with his ship, brought you to the First Order base, entrapped in metal straps as soon as you woke up.

Luminous lights and thick air provoked your tightened lungs to breath and your skin had broken a perspiration.

The doors opened, unveiling a tall, dark figure between the gaps of archway. Stomping on his shoes echoed until became nothing.

“Where are the others?” you asked, rasping, eyes hazed.

“You mean the murderers, traitors and thieves and cravens you call friends,” he said, taunting, his voice was nearly a merry. “You’ll be in such a relief that I have no clue to where they are.”

The reflection of his mask stared back at you. “You still want to murder me—challenge me,” he assumed.

“Well, that’s what happens if you’ve been chased and captured by the monstrous creature in a mask,” you snapped, low voice laced with venom.

His mask has taken off, long silk strands of silver-blond hair flowed over his chest, as the violet eye and the substitution of his sapphire gleamed at you. For a second, you never thought that your captor is skilled fighter, but it’s also young—young and handsome. His milky skin aglow, a good correlation to his deep stone wedged on the empty socket of his amputated eye, lined with scar that is faded. Outline of his jaw sharpened, shadowed as he strode closer to you.

Thundered, his mask dropped at a nearby stand, the grey sand flew and dissipated as his lithe frame inched closer.

“The droid,” he said, almost frantic. “Tell me about the droid. I know the droid has the map to Daemon Targaryen. Ever heard of him?”

Looking at his eye, you shook your head, “Never heard of him,” you answered, the illuminated lights flashed over your eyelids each time you blinked.

Aemond inched his face closer. “Your heart beat is pounding awfully loud.”

“Must be the heat,” you retorted.

He chuckled. “What a clever liar you are. But not clever enough. Now, tell me about the droid.”

“He’s a BB Unit with a Selenium Drive with a Thermal Hyperscan Vindicator.”

“It’s carrying a navigational chart, which the droid possesses the map.” His head tilted. “You, a scavenger, living on Jakku—a deserted planet with nothing to offer.” His face leaned closer. “You know I can take what I want.”

You swallowed, eyes flicking at his smooth pink-colored lips.

“My,” he said, licking his lower lip. “It appears you have some sort of interest in me, showed no signs of fear.”

You looked away, face reddened from the strict heat in the room and the huskiness in his voice. His hand outreached to your side temple, though no contact. You felt the Force strengthened and battled against the mobility of your system.

“You’re lonely. Alone and desperate. Waiting for someone to show up and rescue you. Waiting for someone to lead you out from the land, from the galaxy and into the great land with trees and life. I can sense the anger…not only that…something far more…delicate…in the matter based on your compromising position,” he cooed.

You resisted, of course, but your energy drained quicker.

His body leaned back, taking a good look of your exasperated form. “Tell you what, I’ll release you, but only if you can give something to me, in one condition.”

You (e/c) locked onto his. “And what would that be?”

Only the corners of Aemond’s lips curled.

“Please, no,” you begged, wrists tied up behind your back while Aemond was sitting on a spare chair, his thick and lithe legs spread wide while you’re in between them, knees already hurting.

“Shhh, trust me, my little scavenger,” he cooed again, his gloved hand flattened behind your head and dragged it downward. “So, are you going to be my good woman, or do I have show you the force again?”

Gulping, you succumbed at his voice. Maybe another way of his “force”.

“Good woman,” he praised, and unzipped his black trousers, his long and thick cock sprung out it nearly hit your cheek below the eye. “Sorry, darling, my cock couldn’t help but to view at the sight of you,” he said, smirking, tugging your locks, hauling you closer to his engorged tip, leaking. Your lips opened, taken his length in, choking. It felt as if your eating a whole uncut rod—or a thicker lightsaber. “All trapped underneath me, my power. The force within can’t abide much later.”

Gagging proceeded in your throat, but you took his length in precarious and fervent care.

“That’s it,” he groaned, his other hand flicked, the force brought your head down further to the end of his swollen cock, his large balls. “Argh! That’s…it.”

It was impressive for him to not only deal with a woman with capable resistance, but also has a coy nature she has been hiding—a tease.

The force no longer hostage you; your mouth watered as you took his cock well, swallowing the taste of his flesh, his warm flesh. Oh, how delightful. You never dealt a Jedi or a commander to have desirable or naughty urges. But you figured that even the force cannot contain beastly urges of a man. Aemond was one. But, has he ever been a woman before you? Jealousy pitted down on your heated belly, flickering.

It felt so wrong, but, your heart was aching for him, despite “meeting” under the matters of selfish urgency and a brink of death.

Aemond sighed, his silver-blond locks befallen on his broad and lean backside, his throat bobbed, heaving and sighing at your warm and slick mouth.

“Your thoughts are troubling you again,” he said. “No, I have never been with a woman.”

You doubted. Tortured at the thought of a previous woman, a torture where a previous woman might do better than you—an inexperienced scavenger.

“I never lie,” he said. His index finger flicked, and the hair ties on your head casted, your longish locks flowed, nesrly covering up your breast. “In fact, I never did.”

Semen spurted in your slippery mouth.

“Take it all in, darling,” he encouraged, hearing your throat quenched its thirst, smothered in his slick and spurt of his thick semen.

The room became hotter as Aemond strapped your wrists above your head onto the prison bed.

“Stay still, woman,” he grunted, his lips inched downward to yours, seeing if the pace of his breath matched with yours.

Your chest steadied from a grasping breath you tried to behold with gentleness. Aemond sensed it, too.

“You’re steady…Good.” And plunged his suppled lips to yours, caging your soft ragged breaths, playing your tongue with his, heavy sighs played out in the air, his palm snuck in your cloth, smooth fingertips tracing the lines of your stomach, the soft steep of ribcage.

“With you under my protection, nothing can go wrong, little scavenger,” he said, his tucked hand withdrew, and flicked a sharp movement, and your clothes shred and tossed across the room under his Force.

Gasping, Aemond silenced your lips again under a deep passion. A sheer underwear tucked your maidenhood. Frustrated, Aemond snatched and ripped in one swoop, his cock engorged twice, hardened, his throat dried and croaked at the sight of your flawless beauty, picturing the lines of stretch marks on your lower belly from the swollen pregnancy. Aemond thought beforehand that if the First Order has been under siege, in one way to promote a difficult position that couldn’t diffuse, he needed an heir, an heir of a stronger, faster and more calculating version of himself.

“Hold on, scavenger, I’m sure this will be painful for you, but you’ll grow to love the feeling of my cock, grinding inside your walls. How do you feel now, little woman? Are you willing to give an heir for me?”

You gasped. There was so much life ahead of you. Unsure of his words, you were sure he’s crazy to know that one, obtaining pregnancy is scandalous—especially if a father is a notorious leader. He could be killed, and could be tortured or his enemies will use you and the child to proceed their victory to reach Aemond.

Gulping and vibrating under him, you uttered. “Why me?”

Your heart is torn in half. What if Aemond is only using you as a spare time hobby? What if he’ll soon find a lover who’s more beautiful and mature and not childlike like you, and for you to be thrown in the dark and be forgotten? Numerous possibilities rushing in your mind—and halted—when Aemond said, “I won’t betray you. Betraying is the enemy’s job.”

“But you’re the enemy,” you remarked.

“In this room, you’ll only see the real me, as the real Aemond, a beast hidden in a skin of a man,” he murmured. “I must have you,” he grunted, pushing his cock into your constricted folds, pumping and sliding in a tremendous pace that the bed rocked.

Moans ascended in the roofs, Aemond’s quiet grunts entered through your ears. Your legs wrapped around his slender waist, bobbing as his powerful thrusts electrified your drenched walls.

Your eyes lulled, but Aemond grasped your face and aligned it to his, violet eye narrowed. “Look at me as I fuck you good—heavy and fast. Your belly will soon swell with a future Jedi, a more powerful warrior than any good-for-nothing troops in the galaxy.”

His legs ached as his one hand untied the knot on your wrist and hauled your body up for you to snuggle him, bed rocking continuously as your voice rasped, airily sighing with your eyes closed, almost seeing pink stars swirling in your closed lids, your mouth sucked Aemond’s neck, offered a low hiss through his teeth.

“That’s it, my good angel,” Aemond purred,the flat of his large hands enveloped and motioned against your naked back. The heat in the room faded, the coldness bumped into your bare flesh; the air condition is activated, encouraged your warm bodies to go at full speed.

“Aemond,” you moaned, head threw back.

Aemond’s pace became sloppy, staggered at you calling his name. “Say it again, my darling scavenger. Say my name.”

“Aemond…Aemond,” your hips gyrated, in pleasurable heat.

His lips curved. “I knew you would love it eventually.”

“Need you to come…inside me..in me…on me…in my mouth or face. Fuck me good,” you begged, corner of your lips salivating, tongue buds prickling, in hopes to taste his cock again.

But you missed the part where Aemond’s eye gleamed in darkened shade, in secret thrill.

Grabbing your hips, nails deepened and bruised your flesh and bones as his thrusts shoved harder, sending your voice wailing through the roof. You were sure that the Stormtroopers would stop and listen over your voice. Aemond couldn’t care less; he loved seeing you like this.

“Almost there, my scavenger,” he groaned, kissing your cheek, last few rounds set in; your arms slightly flailed yet gripped around his neck, face nuzzled onto his lean neck as he blasted hot white liquid inside you.

Kissing on several spots on your face, Aemond tugged your body down with him, with your side profile pressed against his chest, his hand rested on your back head while the other brushed your back.

“The child will soon grow into you,” he reminded.

“What about the droid?” you asked, puzzled.

Aemond scoffed. “Forget about that damn droid. It is you who I am enamored to, who I am now devoted to.”

“Is this the power of force?”

“No, this is my love yearning for someone—for you, my sweet,” he said. “The force is neither the army nor the galaxy. The force is within us, and only us can gather. The force can sometimes break us.”

“You didn’t break me,” you noted, admiring his sapphire eye.

Aemond smiled. “No, but you tamed the force within me.”

And you both shared a tender kiss under dimmed light.

Taglist: @daonenonlysandman @toodlesxcuddles @kittendoll05 @omgsuperstarg @xcharlottemikaelsonx @paninisstuff @danika1994 @angeljcca @marvelescvpe @kukulyarva @namelesslosers @heavenly1927 @snh96 @herathedreamer @fandom-maniac-anime @httpsmenace @velunis @nananeptune @domithebomi @moonseye @valeskafics @faesspace @rxixo31 @tm-starr @xinthia19 @popsycles @naiaaramena @aleemendoza2425-blog @letmehavemyfictionalmen @aracelipf @ammo23 @blackswxnn @buccini555 @watercolorskyy @taangie @wolfdressedinlace @qardasngan @justyelena @jolixtreesunn @runekisses @jmii722 @colored-tr-panels @evergreen9083 @foggypeacestarlight @dixie-elocin @galactict3a @momowhoo @saturnssrings @dani5216 @liannafae

252 notes · View notes

pinkykats-place · 2 months ago

Text

Armitage Hux x Reader

AO3 Star Wars Fic Recs

Disclaimers!

None of the stories below are mine.

Some contain mature content.

Read tags. Check Ratings.

Note: If you read any of these stories and like them please let the author know with a kudos and/or comment!

Beautiful by orphan_account

Summary: Armitage Hux has taken a wife. Unfortunately for you, you're his new bride. You're trying to battle your fast growing feelings for your husband, but your apprehension is fading faster and faster.

Contains Smut

Complete | 7 Chapters

safety by moonlitcavern

Summary: A two-part hux x reader in which hux shows up at your quarters bleeding and exhausted and perhaps on the verge of an emotional breakdown.

Complete | 2 Chapters | Fluff

Fragile Trust, Fragile Love by KiaraKohana

Summary: Armitage Hux had grown up in a world where he was told not to trust anyone, so why did he seem to let his guard down around you? He felt safe for the first time in decades- perhaps in his entire life. He trusted you. But little did he know there's a lot more to you than what meets the eye.

Complete | 13 Chapters

Cats and Commands by TheJediCode

Summary: You are in training as a communications officer aboard the Finalizer. When you are an assigned an unusual task by your superior officer, you find yourself face to face with one of the most formidable officers in the First Order, who isn't at all what you expect.

Complete | 8 Chapters

Rated - General Audiences

Good Samaritan by CatchYouInTheRye

Summary: Your superior Armitage Hux seems to be having a bad day and you suddenly have the urge to fix that.

Complete | 2 Chapters

Rated - Explicit

That Kind of Love by Irma7x

Summary: Trying to break free of the control that ruled his everyday life, Hux asks for you to try something different together in the bedroom. You carry it through on his birthday.

{One Shot}

Rated - Explicit

Nova Girls by LostLaureate

Summary: An unauthorized transmission from inside the ship.

DATA BREACH: holo-feed.novagirls/cstream/7786-5548283404

“Oh Kriff! I’m so close!”

Had he been in worse health, the sudden 62 inches of ass that filled the entirety of his holo display would have been enough to give him a coronary.

Hux x Cam-Girl Reader

WIP | 5/? Chapters

Rated - Mature

Let Me Take Care Of You by selfinserttrash

Summary: You were a Hall Girl. A glorified errand monkey, you deliver datapads and fetch sandwiches for the most important men in the First Order. You've been reassigned to General Hux's sector, and you quickly find out that he's not as easily impressed as most of the men aboard the Finalizer. One day, you see something you're not meant to, and it ignites something entirely new within you.

After all, you know what they say, the fastest way to a man's heart is through his stomach.

Incomplete | 5/? Chapters

Last Updated 2018

Rated - Mature

The Crown by bananakin

Summary: "Chin up, darling," your mother had bitten out with her dying breath, "or the crown will slip."

OR in which a female reader ends up bound to General Hux (and in turn, the First Order) in matrimony.

Incomplete | 26/? Chapters

Last updated 2019

The Temptations of a Kitchen Woman by nelliespector (ilmv)

Summary: Kylo Ren has made a sport out of bothering General Hux. The Supreme Leader is sure Armitage shares Brendol's weaknesses. To prove it, Ren takes away the protocol droid that normally prepares Hux's meals and replaces it with an irresistible Arkanisian kitchen woman who is also required to share the General's bed every night. How long can a sexually frustrated Hux hold out? Can his desire to prove Kylo wrong prevail over... plain ol' desire?

Incomplete | 15/? CH | Contains Smut

Last updated March 2022

#ao3 fic recs #armitage hux x reader #fic recs #archive of our own #star wars fic recs #general hux x reader #fanfic recommendation #armitage x female reader #reader insert recommendation #reader insert recommendations #Star Wars x reader

60 notes · View notes

upon-a-starry-night · 3 months ago

Text

While We Dream Pt.1

Kylo Ren x Fem! Reader

Star Wars Masterlist Series Masterlist

Word Count: 1.4k

Summary: As Kylo sleeps he finds himself mysteriously transported to your modern world, while you sleep you find yourself following alongside Kylo as he goes about his duties as “supreme leader?” who even was this guy? And why does he keep talking about ‘The Force?'

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You know how in life there are those days that make you want to squeeze lemon juice directly into a fresh cut just to feel something? Well, you were having one of those days.

You’d just been laid off from your job and to make matters worse you locked your keys in your car while you were packing away your desk essentials. It would take the mechanic two hours to arrive so you could either sit there looking pathetic in the parking lot of the job you just got fired from or you could take a walk.

Yeah, you weren’t going to humiliate yourself with that first option, especially not after all your coworkers avoided eye contact with you as you packed up your belongings.

Running your hands through your hair, you sighed in frustration, looking up at the cloudy gray abyss above you. Well at least the weather matched your mood, you just hoped it would hold off on raining until after you were back home. Maybe then you could cuddle up with your cat and a good book and forget today ever happened.

Walking in the opposite direction as your old office building, you turn around to glare at it in all its boring corporate glory.

“Good riddance” you mutter under your breath as you shove your hands in your pockets and let the sidewalk lead you to something that would hopefully brighten your day.

You’d never really gotten to explore the area around your work aside from the coffee and bagel shop you’d frequent for breakfast and the deli two buildings down where you’d get lunch. You’d miss the sandwiches at that deli but there was no way you would go back there and risk running into your coworkers. It was only noon and today was already one of the worst of your adult life experiences.

It wasn’t like you particularly liked that job, you yearned for a creativity that would never be found behind a wooden desk in a cubicle. Still, you’d made a few accomplices and had started growing used to your routine.

You didn't know if it was bad luck or the universe telling you to finally do something more adventurous with your life but either way, you’d need to find a new job soon.

So lost in thought, you don’t even realize where you are until you stumble over a stray tree root. Only then do you notice the gorgeous park you’re in. It’s roughly the size of a large backyard but it’s filled with so many plants and tall trees that you could nearly forget you were in the middle of a city if the honking of traffic didn’t give it away.

Flowers of every color blossom all along the brick pathway and all sorts of pollinators flitter around the garden. It’s a wonder they can find their way to this place through all the buildings and construction around but if you lived here you’d probably never leave it anyway.

It would feel like a segment pulled straight out of a forest if it weren’t for the fountain in the middle of it all. It’s a beautiful circle made out of white marble with a woman in the center holding some sort of pot where the water is flowing from.

It’s nothing but a simple statue but something about the woman's eyes is warm and motherly, whoever carved them must have spent a lot of time on them to get them to feel so inviting. They don’t look directly at you, however, they focus just to the right of where you're standing and you follow the line of sight till you notice something in the bushes.

Curious as to what could be so important that they’d face the statue towards it, you move to investigate the mysterious object and are pointedly surprised to find a coin machine buried amongst the leaves and vines. It reads:

“Wish coins. Hold the coin in your hands and make a wish then toss it into the fountain. The Universe is kind to those with pure intentions. Only one per person!”

From the looks of it, no one’s used it in a long time and it makes you sad that humanity has seemingly given up on simple things like making a wish in a fountain. You remember doing it once or twice as a kid, although your wishes never came true- it was probably for the best that you didn’t receive 15 puppies and all the toys in the world at age 8.

It only costs a penny to get a coin from the machine so after a few minutes of digging through all your pants pockets you manage to scrounge up one dirty penny made in 2003 from your back pocket. You insert it and twist until your ‘wish coin’ comes out with a clank.

It’s bigger than a dollar coin and looks like something you’d get at an arcade or gaming festival. It’s got a star on both sides instead of anything remotely similar to real currency but it holds the weight of real metal and looks entirely made of copper. Even if you don’t throw it in it’s a pretty cute trinket to have found.

Checking your watch, you see that you still have an hour until the mechanics can get to your car so you walk over and take a seat on the fountain, admiring the greenery, you think about how you probably never would have found this place if all of the bad stuff didn’t happen. Although you didn't know if this surpassed the loss of your job you were grateful to have found such a beautiful place to rest and wait.

Taking a deep breath in, you flip the coin in your palm over a few times, staring at it in consideration. It couldn’t hurt to try…could it?

Truth be told, you don't know why you’re putting so much thought into it but maybe there was a small part of you that still believed in silly things like this. The little girl in you that held out hope that things like magic actually exist somewhere in this world.

Standing up, you turn and face the fountain as you clutch onto the coin with both hands and think of the perfect wish. What is it that you really wanted anyway?

A job? No, that was something you needed, and it didn't feel like something worth wasting a wish on.

A partner? Now that would be nice, someone to come home to and cheer you up on days like these, but even that didn’t feel right and you didn’t want to end up in one of those shitty genie situations where they take your words literally and end up screwing you over.

What was it that you truly wanted? Adventure? Excitement? Something to look forward to in a world that makes you constantly look back? That felt like the right direction but you had no idea how to phrase it so you just poured everything you were feeling into the coin and then flicked it into the clear blue water.

As it sank to the bottom you held your breath as you waited for something to happen. You don’t know what you were expecting, it’s not like everything you wished for would just magically appear out of nowhere…

You waited a few minutes, shifting anxiously on your feet as you stared at the coin at the bottom of the fountain. There were no other coins in the water and you wondered if someone came to clean it often, even the water was flawlessly clear despite the area being so secluded. You wondered if your coin would soon be cleaned out and debated fishing it out of the water.

It was pretty cute but maybe you could just grab a second one from the machine? You fisted your pockets for another penny but came up empty so you resorted to searching the surrounding dirt for any lost change. Much to your luck there was a single penny underneath one of the within-reach bushes and you quickly inserted it into the slot and tried to twist.

The machine didn’t budge. Was it broken? You tried twisting again, taking the penny out and putting it back, and even lightly smacking the machine but nothing worked. The “only one per person" sticker staring at you tauntingly. Perhaps that was your sign to stop trying.

Sighing, you glance at the time and decide you should probably start to head back if you want to make it to your car before the mechanic people do. Before you go though, you take one last look into the statue's warm eyes, letting the tiniest ounce of hope spark through you.

“I don’t really know what I wished for but… I hope it comes true.” You turn to walk away but then hesitate, taking in the scenery one last time “And I hope it makes me happy.”

Pt.2

A/n: Hope you enjoyed Chapter one of my new series! It only gets crazier from here!! ~Starry

52 notes · View notes

justagirlwholikesadam · 1 year ago

Text

Head cannons: CEO! Virgin Kylo Ren x Fem Reader

A/N: RATED M, NSFW, fluffy

»»————-　♡　————-««

CEO! Kylo Ren never slept with his assistant before until you came along. You were a pretty thing, he had to admit that’s how he found himself underneath you.

CEO! Kylo Ren becomes flustered the way you walk inside his office to give him his coffee, lunch or even paperwork. He even becomes bashful when you start to compliment him when you read over his reports.

CEO! Kylo Ren had told you he was a virgin one night after he took the whole department out for dinner and drinks. You didn’t believe him, of course. It had to be the large amount of scotch on the rocks he had during dinner that had him talking nonsense about him being a virgin.

CEO! Kylo Ren is handsome and tall. You found yourself staring at him. He towered over you whenever he stood next to you. He usually wore his collar shirts with the sleeves rolled up showing his arms. His thick dark curls were always combed over, your fingers were itching to touch it. His plump lips that’s begged to be kissed. You knew he had to be lying.

CEO! Kylo Ren tells you once more about it when you confesses to him about your doubts of him being a virgin. He confides in you that he was an awkward teenager, who became even more awkward when he became an adult. He was never good with the ladies and whenever he did have a crush they didn’t reciprocate back.

CEO! Kylo Ren turns red in the face when you offer to have sex with him when both of you were alone doing overtime in the office. “Serious?” He asks you. He smiles at the nod you gave him as you got closer to him.

CEO! Kylo Ren is whimpering as you suck his cock. He had thrown his head back the moment you gagged loudly on his cock. His large hands made their way to your hair, grabbing it. Tugging it softly when he felt your spit rolling down his balls to the leather computer chair he was sitting on.

CEO! Kylo Ren wants to make you feel good after he cums down your throat but you push him back on to his chair and hike your skirt up to your hips. His eyes widen and he welcomes you when you start to mount on him. He groans as you slide down on his cock, his hips start to thrust up catching you by surprise.

CEO! Kylo Ren says he’s sorry when you tell him to slow down but he can’t help it. You feel so good, clenching him so tight. You feel so wet and warm. He had wrapped his arm around your waist holding you still as his hips went wild.

CEO! Kylo Ren likes hearing your wet pussy as he makes you bounce up and down in his cock. Turning you into his own personal cock sleeve like the one he has at home. You don’t do much, you hold on his shoulders during the ride, you’re already fucked dumb.

CEO! Kylo Ren starts becoming more pussy drunk when you cum on his cock. He keeps thanking you for letting him fuck you, for letting him fuck your pussy. He doesn’t even realize he came inside of you when you start kissing him.

CEO! Kylo Ren becomes infatuated with you and your body. He craves it everyday. He has you bend over on his desk while he pounds from behind you. He has you lay out on the new couch he bought for his office just for you so you can lay on it while he eats you out. Meeting starts late because he has you on top of him riding and lunches that are an hour become two hours sometimes three because Kylo needs you before taking you out for lunch.

CEO! Kylo Ren has the office buzzing on why there are construction workers in his office one day. None of them knew except you that they were installing soundproof walls in his office.

CEO! Kylo Ren gets nervous when he asks you to stay the night at his place. When you say yes, he picks you up in a kiss. He’s anxious during the day and keeps looking at his watch for the clock to hit 6pm so he can take you home. You’re welcomed by the sight of him standing near his car in the parking lot with a bouquet of flowers in his hand.

CEO! Kylo Ren isn’t a virgin anymore thanks to you.

#kylo ren #CEO #modern au #kylo ren fanfiction #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren x reader #smut #kylo ren headcanons #adamdriver #kylo ren smut #kylo

518 notes · View notes

verysmolnerd · 3 months ago

Text

Tailor of the dark side

Kylo ren x reader

I’m not well-versed in Star Wars lore, since I’m a newer fan, but I tried my best. This was loosely based on some segments in my life, but I just wanted to add a Star Wars spin with a new favorite character of mine. I have intentions with learning the lore just so my fics can have that semi-realistsic feeling to the source material… well, as much as an X Reader fic can be.

tw: none! Enjoy!

Your family has been doing this since your elders can remember. The reason why? You’re not so sure; your distant relatives assume it was by force, others say it was willing. Regardless, you spend your days measuring the sizes of the high-ranking officers and sewing them their apparel.

Your family had been through it all, the sith, the empire, and now the first order. Each one with the same goal, and yet, fails to complete it. Not that you care anyway, you’re not paid to be on the battlefield; you’re paid to sew.

That being, you’re often overlooked by most of the staff. Only a few cleaning droids stayed longer, but no two were ever the same. That didn’t stop you from being respectful to them, and their silent beeps of approval are heartwarming on this cold ship.

You have a few rare visitors, well, they’re almost celebrities with their position throughout the bases and the galaxy. Some of them even addressed you by name, filling the soundless void when you measured them.

Even General Hux has graced you with a visit for his new overcoat measurements. Saying that, “Your skills are above average. It’s admirable to those unworthy.” His cryptic and intellectual comments were not even remotely flattering, you just nodded and watched him leave.

But nobody truly talks to you; or holds a meaningful conversation. You’d kill for one at this point; with the rate of insanity you’ve been driven down.

Maybe you might leave, and do something meaningful with your life. You have generations of pay from relatives working the very same position you are in… maybe that was their intention. To leave, and live a life they couldn’t.

…So you packed up the few things you needed and set off for another planet. You were discreet, disguising yourself as a mechanic, so getting on a ship to deploy troopers was easier than you anticipated.

The ship landed on a planet that goes by the name of Yavin-4. There are suspects that this planet housing a very powerful rebel base here. Which explains why you’re essentially swimming in stormtroopers.

The ship had one last jerk before opening the doors, pinching you between the armor of two stormtroopers. You seethe in pain, but their gloved hands were quick to catch you before you stumbled or fell.

Then, like the sea, all of the troopers piled out and waited for attention. You slinked away and swapped clothes. You started to walk towards the forest, enjoying the natural elements in stark constraint to the cold, dead, and monotone environment on the ships.

You decided to live amongst the trees, making a shelter with the help of the locals. You’ve learned quite a few languages on the ship you were on, it seems to help you out a lot then.

And just like that, weeks had passed by in your new life. You’ve learned how to survive alone, like you used to always have but without the first order. It’s nice, calm. It almost doesn’t feel real at times.

However, one evening brought another change in your life.

You were atop one of the infinite trees on the planet to watch the sunset. The locals said it would be beautiful this time of the year, so you had to see it for yourself.

Your eyes gazed upon the pink sky, only for you to find that multiple first-order ships had come to land. Not really a big idea, they do this all the time and haven’t looked for you… however, there are more; the faint overshadow of a star destroyer within the atmosphere of the planet.

You narrow your eyes. It’s not just any Star destroyer.

It’s the finalizer.

It seemed that your past has come to find you. You didn’t seem to sneak away like you thought you did after all. Tragic, but now isn’t the time to dwell on such things.

It’s not just the main base of the First Order, but a whole fleet of Star destroyers could be seen behind it. Your eyes widened; only something like this would end up in a genocide.

That being, it doesn’t take long for the entire planet to get alerted. Ships were already rising above the tree lines and that’s when the faintest specks in the sky turned into tie fighters.

You need to find a way off the planet. Not out of fear that the First Order will find you, but that you will be dead amongst the crossfire. With the new supreme leader of that white operation, there’s no doubt that they will spare no expense in wiping any living organism off a planet.

You rejoin the semblance of a society when you stumble upon an area littered with X-Wings, Resistance attack ships…. You’ve found yourself on the hidden rebel base and you barely even recognized it.

Pilots and droids rushed left and right attempting to load others on ships hastily taking off. That being, you were ushered with a group of technicians on a cruiser.

The ship was silent, everyone held their breath as it took to the skies. X-Wings defended the ship mercilessly as the ship flew amongst the stars. Explosions could be seen or heard all around the ship.

You shuddered, feeling some sort of pulse being applied to your entire being. Was it the weight of the situation getting to you? Or was it something else? You are well aware that the force is rare, but it’s possible that one force user could be near.

You couldn’t entirely dwell on it, because the ship shook and the lights went out. The ship has been boarded, and that pulsing feeling has only strengthened. The force user was there and you really don’t want to figure out who it is.

A red, cross-like glow illuminated the other end of the hallway. It almost parallels with the story you’ve been told of what Lord Vader did many years ago. Fitting for a descendant of him. The soldiers shot at the Sith Lord.

It’s like history was rewriting itself. The lightsaber was effortlessly -yet with extreme precision- swung around and deflected the shots fired at him. Shouting increases when their comrades are being carelessly murdered without any afterthought.

However, it was only a matter of time before he got across the hallway and got to you as well as with the other resistance members. So, you ran inside one of the escape pods and took it while others were hopping on smaller escape ships on the bay.

You were pressing the buttons to initiate the escape sequence when you saw the door to the room was blown off. A loud clang could be heard on the opposite wall. The glow of the red lightsaber poured through the destroyed doorway. Your stomach formed a deep pit when the panic from others became prevalent.

In comes Kylo Ren, and you launch the escape pod; dropping into the abyss of space.

You weren’t much of a pilot, but that doesn’t mean you’re completely helpless. You can certainly get away if the attention is focused on the other smaller cruisers sent to pick up the remaining resistance.

You aimed the ship back to Yavin-4, knowing that you’d have to find some sort of transportation ship to leave the planet when the fight was over or at least died down. You glance at the battle surrounding the battle.

As much as you prided your sudden ability to evade others perusing you; keeping such a thing up couldn’t happen forever. The chase would have to end.

So, while the eyes are on the resistance, you plunge for Yavin-4. Holding your breath as if that could hide you from the roar of the TIE fighters and the explosions of destroyed ships.

And your time had just run out. Two TIE fighters have launched cables that latched onto your escape pod. Then your fight or flight responses shined above all fear. You flipped the ship rapidly, tying the two fighter ships together.

The two ships tried desperately to get away, but you weren’t allowing that. You spun the ship in a bunch of circles, swinging the two ships around the battlefield. One last yank, the tow cables snapped and they both smashed into a nearby star destroyer.

You made a silent cheer, but that was quick to die when you felt your ship caught into a tractor beam. You sigh in defeat, knowing you can’t fight it. So, you slinked your way to a seat and just waited to be docked and boarded.

At least you’re sitting down, you’re not sure how long it’s been since it was just you atop a tree, losing track of time within warfare has been a common thing with anyone in the First Order. The only person that would know the exact time, down to the second, would be the general and those at the command center.

The ship jerked as it was brought to the docking bay. The doors to your escape pod drop. The general, of all people, is greeting you here. That’s so unlike him, and you’re not important enough to even be graced in his presence. Save for that one time he went on another stead to pick up his clothes. (his subordinate was probably murdered, this is the First Order we’re talking about here)

“It seems we’ve underestimated you, tailor. Your alliance to the First Order is far stronger than most.” Hux preened, but his face was unreadable, “You have my respect for leading us to the resistance base camp.”

Your eyes widen. It was you. You were the reason why they found the base on Yavin-4. But how? It’s not like you have anything on you that can be tracked.

“That was your intention, was it not?” Ah, there’s that familiar glare you’re used to. You nodded, “Yes it was, general.” No sense in taking some random punishment, you know that any issued by the general are quite brutal.

He didn’t give a response to your answer, he gesutered fro you to stand and follow him. So, you did, not wanting your head to be on display amongst the rest of the First Order Traitors. You may not be in deep trouble, but you’re still walking on eggshells… just like when you did sew for everyone here.

You don’t entierly recognize the hallways that you walk down, but the echos of the past still linger within the souless walls. However, you know an important room when you see one.

For starters, the furniture is far better than any section of the base, not to mention the security for the room requires a few more troopers to watch over. Not to mention, being escorted by the general. Nothing good comes from those rooms. Normally, whomever enters it, doesn’t come out.

You were put in the cetner of this room at a standstill, the general left without a word and the stormtroopers migth as well no be there with their soundless movements.

You can’t remember how long it was that you stood there, once again, it had been a long time since since you were in a stationary position like this. It makes you wonder how you put up with this before.

You flinch when the door opens. Then it’s like your very soul was trying to leave you body when you saw who entered the room.

Supreme Leader, Kylo Ren.

You got on one knee, “Supreme Leader.” You avert your eyes, but you catch the sight of his boots. He’s circling you, as if you were mere prey. “Stand,” his modulated voice shook you to your very core.

You rise to your feet, your eyes trained on the wall. You kept your mind empty, but your stomach was reeling when his cape grazed your legs.

“At ease,” he said, the traces of mirth escaping him. Yes, you still have your manners. You loosened your posture and met his masked gaze.

“You led us right to them.” He said, soft yet blunt. “I’m not sure how you did it.” You clarify, not sure if he can force read your mind or not. “General Hux tracked your location through your identification card.” Now you felt stupid. You still had it on you for the sake of having any identity or a form to purchase items.

“However,” He drawled out, “Your presence was far simpler to track.” You didn’t have the words to respond to that, not sure what makes the supreme leader tick. His destructive fits are known throughout the galaxy.

“Are you hiding your sensibility to the force?” You shake your head, “If I am force sensitive, then only you would know, supreme leader.” You knew you had to choose your words carefully; high-ranking officers have been killed for less than punishable offenses.

“You have been overlooked by my officers,” it was a statement more than a question. There’s no sense in telling him what you know, it’s not like it’s anything useful, “That I am used to, supreme leader. My job, among many, is overlooked.”

He says nothing, allowing you to continue,“Who do you think sews the banners, designs our logo, writes propaganda, and makes recruitment stations? The people who cook your dinners? There are more like me than you know, supreme leader.”

If you’re going to die, well, might as well get your point across…

“We all made the same loyalty pledge that you did.” You remember when he was brought in by Snoke, you were roughly the same age. He was so timid then, moreso overhwelmed. He couldn’t stand at attention properly nor anybody see him as compitent or a real member of the first order. That’s what the rumors were, at least. The more chattier officers would tell you everything, true or not.

Then he started getting angry, really angry. His rage won many battles against the reistance, and that got him the role of commander. Snoke made this quite the event to the point where he got the equivalent of a coronation. You were amongst all the unsung memebers of the regime, painting for the back of the room.

Until now, you’ve only seen him twice….But why are you thinking about this?

“I.” His crackled voice brought you out of your own head, “I’ve seen you.” At the promotion ceremony. But neither of you said that. He searched through your mind, must’ve thought you were familar. “So have I.” You said, filling the silence.

“You’ve been here all along,” he changed gears in the conversation, “But you’ve never called for me.” That’s an easy answer, one you didn’t have to think about.

“Snoke sent me your measurements, he didn’t want you to associate yourself with lowly personnel like myself.” You didn’t even think of it as an insult. With such a long line serving the dark side, it wouldn’t do the first order good if such tradition was served at the hands of an unstable man. (From what you heard at least, he’s been eerily calm when you’ve seen him)

That name didn’t sit well with him, the clenched fist an echo to what he could do to your lungs. So it’s your turn to change the subject…to save your own skin.

“My family has been supporting the darkside for a long, long time.” You say, “My mother was the one who made vader’s cape. And my grandfather with the emperor’s robes.” That piqued his interest, you’ve been here all this time. Present, but out of sight.

He didn’t answer again, and you knew that this was going to be awkward. It doesn’t appear that the supreme leader has spoken with anyone who was not involved directly with warfare.

Then he felt a tugging sensation. It was light, but not with the force. Rather, you had reached up and thumbed his clothes. You had every right to, it was your job..

And for once…. An action like that. didn’t bother him.

“You could use a new wardrobe.” You say, eyeing his garments. They look like they’ll form holes soon, something needed to be done. He felt exposed like this, unsure of what to do. “May I?” You pulled out an old measuring tape, you’ve had it on you and almost forgot about it… until now. You could probably use your skills to ensure your safety.

He made no movement to deny you, so you serve behind him and get the basic measurements, nothing too detailed, but enough for a general idea.

“You haven’t changed a bit,” you say, moving back in front of him.

“I’ll show you to your room.” He declares, moving out of the small room and back into the hallway.

“Yes, supreme leader.”

….”Call me Kylo Ren.”

“What?”

“Please…”

“Ok then, Kylo Ren. I’ll follow you.”

#kylo ren x reader #fanfic writing #fanfic #fanfiction

45 notes · View notes

noiriarti · 4 months ago

Text

Inappropriate: Armitage Hux x Reader - Ch. 1

TW: nsfw stuff, mentions of Brendol Hux being an abusive father, mentions of canon-typical violence, mentions of masturbation and sex.

Summary: Hux has to travel to Starkiller Base to check on construction. His favorite lieutenant comes with him, but these horrible, terribly inappropriate thoughts just won't stop.

[Ch. 1], Ch. 2, Ch. 3, Ch. 4

Hux knew he had chosen the wrong career when he packed for the transport. Maybe if he was a radar technician, or a trooper, or some kind of farmer, this wouldn't be happening. He would be trapped on a transport with that stupid child, Ren, for over a full day. As if he wasn't capable enough to check in on the progress of Starkiller Base's construction on his own. As if Ren could do anything but swing a lightsaber. But, when Snoke said to go, what was he supposed to do? Complain like a child that he couldn't stand that long near Ren? Tell Snoke the idea of bringing a liability like Ren to the barely-wired Base was a bad idea? So, he went. But he didn't have to be happy about it.

Fuming, he finished packing two more crisp uniforms, his datapad, and a coat for the journey. He also counted the rotations until his retirement--12,045, to be exact, if he managed to survive that long--and wondered if there was any way he could kill Ren in his sleep, if the bastard even slept. By the time he had gotten to the Finalizer's hangar, he had decided poison would be best, and that he'd move to some penthouse in Coruscant, get 5 cats, and become some miserly old curmudgeon once he was done working.

The hangar was one of his favorite places, following the bridge, because it housed so much controlled chaos. Just like his precious bridge, it was carefully managed, teeming with droids and techs, always working, always awake. He liked the brightness of the lights in both places, keeping him up through the night cycles, always working away at his datapad. At least Mitaka would be on the mission, he figured, and he was tolerable. And punctual, he noted as he walked around their transport, given that he could see a pair of boots under the nose of the ship. As he rounded the front, he came face-to-face not with Mitaka, but with you.

Oh, fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck. As was usual when it came to you, he was done for. You had served under him for two years as a Lieutenant, his best strategist even with his rose-colored glasses off. You two worked closely together, which had been just about killing him. These feelings, these stupid stupid thoughts, would nestle in his brain every time he let his guard down. What if he just brushed your hands together, working late one night on the bridge? What would it be like to kiss you? What would it feel like to have your nails down his-- he stopped himself. That was completely inappropriate. And something he would think about a lot more later. With that thought firmly lodged in his head, he just had to act like a human being long enough for Mitaka to arrive, then he could wash it away in the refresher.

"General!" You broke the silence with a smile and a wave. He had asked you to stop saluting when you saw him, partially because you saw each other so often, but mainly because it reminded him of the fact that he was your commanding officer, and that his little crush was inappropriate. So, so, inappropriate.

"Lieutenant," he said, pausing. Small talk. Small talk. Right. "What brings you to the hangar?" he asked. Real smooth, dumbass.

"I'm coming with you on the mission to Starkiller, sir. You requested a Lieutenant come along, and Mitaka is in the medbay for...injuries, so I'm filling in," you replied. It didn't need to be said that the injuries were caused by Kylo Ren. That was the only cause of injuries in the bridge, anyway.

Normally, he would be thrilled to have you replace Mitaka. You were much more enjoyable to be around, and you weren't one of the people who regularly faced Ren's wrath, so it worked out for him. Except for the fact that he would be spending twenty-four hours, there and back, with you. He could feel the blush climbing up his neck, and he tried to defuse it. You had been a couple of years below him in the Academy, you had been on plenty of missions with him, and you had worked late into the night right beside him plenty of times. He knew you. He wouldn't do anything stupid, like thinking about your time in the Academy, when he helped you study for exams in the library and he imagined what it would be like to make out against one of the shelves--he stopped himself again. This was really getting out of hand, and if he kept going down that road he'd get hard in the middle of the hangar.

"I hope Mitaka recovers well, and that his injuries are not severe. He is a good Lieutenant," he said, mentally kicking himself. What the hell was wrong with him?

"Yeah, Dopheld is pretty okay, just some scrapes. It was... avoidable." Despite your careful language, he knew what you were telling him. You had both harbored a dislike of Ren ever since he joined the Order, but, since he entered your orbits, both of you took issue with him. You, more because he hurt your colleagues. Hux, for obvious reasons. Regardless, you were both united in your general dislike of the Commander.

The pilot stepped out of the ship, telling both of you that you could get on. He gestured for you to go first, out of some semblance of politeness. He kept his eyes pointedly on the back of your head and not your ass as he walked. Back. Of. The. Head. Your hair--he thought about your hair when it was loose, back in social events at the Academy or during balls, and how he had wondered what it would be like to run his fingers through it, or tuck it behind your ear, or pull it--stars, he definitely needed a shower at this point.

As you entered the ship, he was unpleasantly surprised by how cramped it was, and the pilot showed you to your rooms. His was pretty standard fare: a bed, a refresher, a nightstand. At least it's not shared, he thought. He nodded at the pilot and set his bag down, taking off his coat and unceremoniously flopping it onto a nearby chair. He fished out his datapad and sent you a brief comm.

"Shall we meet in the lounge at 1800 for a briefing on the Base? We can also get dinner, if you would like." He typed the last part hurriedly, sending it before he could think better of it. That was normal, right? For work, right? He had 45 minutes to go cool off before he saw you again. Or, stars forbid, Ren.

Ren still hadn't made it onto the ship, and takeoff was in five minutes. Hux smiled to himself. Maybe there was hope that this mission could be fun after all. He was still, rather embarrassingly, flustered from your previous encounter. He shed his uniform quickly, getting to the refresher and turning on the water as cold as it would go. The ship started under his feet, engines whirring and coming to life as it prepared for takeoff. Hux braced himself against the walls of the shower, smiling even wider.

Ren hadn't made it. There was just you and him, working on the ship for a full rotation. His brain immediately thought of ways to spend the time that were less than savory. Against the wall, for one. On the floor, on the bed. Maybe in the refresher? He leaned his forehead against the shower wall, willing those thoughts away as he felt himself harden. His hand instinctively went to his cock, and he drew in a halting breath. Not now.

This was going to be a hard, hard twenty-four hours.

AN: this has been banging around in my head for a while. man i love my armitage nice and awkward and pining. let me know what you think!!

#armitage hux x reader #armitage hux x you #armitage hux/reader #armitage hux/you #general hux x you #general hux x reader #general hux/you #general hux/reader #general hux fanfic #armitage hux fanfiction #armitage hux #star wars sequels #fanfiction

47 notes · View notes

paganprankster · 10 months ago

Text

Chance Encounters (Kylo Ren x GN!reader) (SFW)

Summary:

(Y/N) is one of the highest-ranking officials employed for the overseeing of the Death Star construction- a plan ordered by Kylo Ren. They stayed clear of him but could no longer as a sudden breach of an Imperial force supply base was reported- resulting in their paths crossing for the first time.

In the distant future, humanity has expanded its reach across the galaxy, eventually forming a vast alliance known as the Imperial Forces. This alliance occupies a variety of planets, with their influence reaching the farthest edges of the galaxy. Each planet was accompanied by its unique cultures, technologies, and species. However, the Imperial Forces rule was threatened when a military force- known as the Rebellion- began to rise in (population). They were in direct opposition to the Imperial forces, often trying to (ruin) technological research in response to the rumor that they were attempting to recreate the infamous Death Star. Should they succeed through their trials and tribulations, it would be the end of the Rebellion. Wherever the resistance has influence, the planet would be eradicated immediately without remorse- simultaneously serving as a reminder for the rest of the galaxy to never show resistance against the Imperial Forces.

(Y/N) took another glance at the holographic map in front of them, slowly circling and analyzing the data concerning a recent attack on the Imdaar galactic supply base. To hide progress made on the Death Star, the blueprints were stored safely on the Finalizer under guard of thousands of imperial employees- making it near impossible for spies to find and successfully steal. The supplies used in the construction were scattered throughout most Imperial bases to hide them. The most valuable of which, the near indestructible Quandanium Steel and its alloys, were concealed within the confines of the Imdaar base; and now, they were destroyed. (Y/N)’s face conformed into a scowl. “Who knows how much money we lost in this attack,” they quickly used their fingers to zoom out of the base’s location and onto the nearby regions, “Do we know where they attacked from?” General Hux appeared beside them. “The stormtroopers on site didn't give any information that was useful,” he began, “After the bombing after the battle of Yavin, you would expect that our defenses there would be near impenetrable after it was rebuilt. But here we are-” Hux let out a halfhearted chuckle. (Y/N)’s eyes did not leave the map. They could feel the sensation of Hux’s eyes on them- following their movements- but they paid no mind. Being one of the highest-ranking officials employed for the overseeing of the Death Star construction, it was your job to help recoup after this loss. “General Hux, we are going to need a team to get together and survey the area- see where the infiltration may have occurred and see what may remain. The material there is essential to our project- and if nothing remains in the rubble, we will need proper funding to build from scratch. Another Imperial officer, part of (Y/N)’s operation team, nervously cleared his throat to garner attention.

“We will need to inform Master Ren about this-” he said, and immediately General Hux turned to face him, striking a fear into your poor coworker's body, and silencing him. “You’re overstepping your authority- and by informing Ren,” informally using his name, “Will only create a larger problem than we already have.”

“With all due respect, General,” (Y/N)’s voice cut through the growing tensions in the room, “Not informing him would warrant a bigger problem. We need a team, and funding- It will be impossible without the support of Master Ren.”

General Hux turned to face you, focusing his eyes onto yours. You watched as your coworker gave a small sigh of relief and returned to documenting the net loss of the attack with the rest of his group a safe distance away from Hux. General Hux is notorious for the need to be in control; Rarely anyone defies his orders, and if they do, they suffer the consequences. (Y/N) confidently stood their ground, maintaining their unwavering eye contact. (Y/N) straightened their posture, challengingly. Hux’s eyes searched theirs, not used any show of defiance.

“Ren-”

“Listen to them, if you know what’s good for you.”

All heads swiveled towards the location of the robotic-like voice- a voice unmistakable. At the door to the meeting room stood Kylo Ren, donning his black mask and matching robes. Quickly, everyone in the room lowered their heads as a show of respect. Only Hux, and (Y/N) raised their heads again. (Y/N) smirked upon noticing the red look creeping its way onto Hux’s face. Whether it be from embarrassment, or anger, they were unsure. The smirk quickly left as they gazed back at Kylo Ren and met where his eyes would be- obscured by his mask. A chill went down their spine, simultaneously breaking eye contact upon noticing the closed fists of Kylo Ren shaking in anger. ‘Shit,’ they thought, ‘Hux has him pissed.’ If Hux’s comments had not pissed him off enough, the news about the attack on Imdaar would surely be his last straw. (Y/N) was the first to break this silence. “Master Ren, there’s been an attack on the supplies base on Imdaar-” nearly immediately, Kylo Rens murderous aura filled the room. He briskly walked to the holo-map that displayed the areas of damage.

“What did we lose?” he asked, turning towards one of the officers on your squad. Terrified, the officer began anxiously scanning the data on his holo-pad. “N-nearly 5.6 million credits worth of damage to the base. Certain areas of the base remain... but all the Quandanium steel has been destroyed. If there are any that remains in the rubble,” He shook his head, “It would be severely damaged and unusable.”

The silence filled the room, save for the increasingly heavy breathing emanating from Kylo Ren. In a rage, he wielded his lightsaber, illuminating the room with a blinding red glow. He angrily brought it down on the meeting room table, quickly splitting it in half, causing the table to collapse on itself and the holo-map to shut down. Everyone recoiled in fear and shuffled closer to the door leading to the halls of the Finalizer- their escape. Sweat began to drip down General Hux’s face as he readjusted his uniform out of nervousness.

“Get out.” Ren commanded. (Y/N)’s squad quickly left the room, hastily handing them the holo-pad displaying the analyzed data of the supply base attack. They would not need to be told twice- observing the anger of Ren was terrifying enough; delaying a response to his orders would be a death sentence. “Including you, general,” He hissed. General Hux held a scowl, before bowing his head and leaving the room. You followed behind, only for the door to be slammed shut before you could pass through. Was that the use of the force?

“Not you- I need you to debrief this attack.” he said while re-holstering his saber.

(Y/N) took a sharp inhale due to their growing anxiety. Alone with the leader infamous for his anger, they thought, and I must disclose the carelessness behind our defenses that day. (Y/N) cleared their throats before making their way to the (now broken) meeting table. “Well,” they began, placing their teams holo-pad onto a nearby chair and displaying the map of the base that day, “when asking the stormtroopers deployed there, they were unable to give any information about things that may have seemed amiss.” (Y/N) pressed a few buttons to reveal the entirety of the base and pointed to three locations. “When this base was rebuilt, it was rebuilt with strengthened building materials with the previously flawed architectural decisions kept in mind. These locations were considered more vulnerable to attacks,” (Y/N) slightly shook their head, “but surveillance of the area pre-breach didn't show anything out of the ordinary-”

Ren approached and stood directly in front of (Y/N), looking down at them due to their height difference.

“If you can maintain eye contact with Hux,” Kylo ren nearly spat, “Then I expect the same for me.”

Shit, they thought, was my avoidance that noticeable? (Y/N)’s eyes shifted before locking eyes onto Kylo Ren’s mask- where his eyes (assumedly) would be. In an instant, a cold chill traversed through their spine, hairs on the back of their neck standing on edge. A few moments of silence brought the room to a standstill, before (Y/N) cleared their throat before responding, “Y-Yes, sir.” They cringed internally upon hearing the crack in their voice- a betrayal of their body.

Kylo Ren tilted his head slightly- analyzing the person before him. Upon hearing their response, he let out a gruff “Good ... and what have you deduced from this attack?”

(Y/N) maintained their eye contact and nervously fidgeted. No matter the performance, their anxiety would always show through. “...It means there must have been an internal breach. There are spies within our ranks and informed the resistance- at least about the materials. I am unsure if more classified information was leaked.”

Kylo Ren tensed before them, infuriation growing by the second. “Spies?” His hands closed into fists again, with increasing shaking. He furiously turned, gesturing towards the holo-pad with his hand and used the force to fling it into the wall, causing it to shatter upon impact. (Y/N) jolted in response.

“Get out.” he murmured, back now turned to them. He re-ignited his saber.

I live to see another day, (Y/N) thought, and quickly stumbled over to the meeting room door and opened it via fingerprint. Before exiting the room, they gave a quick bow to Ren, and stammered: “We can discuss further plans at a later time.” (Y/N) hesitated for a moment. “Look after yourself,”

(Y/N) quickly left the room, hesitating no longer without waiting for a response. The door shut behind them, and they could hear the muffled sounds of breaking equipment and furniture from within. (Y/N) began to briskly walk away from the room, heart racing as the anxiety began to overflow.

(Y/N) cursed aloud and began biting their nails. Look after yourself, they mocked themselves in their subconscious. What overcame me? They let out a heavy sigh. This was the first-time meeting Kylo Ren. And it was certainly not the last.

#fanfiction #star wars #star wars x reader #star wars fanfiction #general hux #general hux x reader #kylo ren #kylo ren x rey #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagine #hux

57 notes · View notes

cuckoo-on-a-string · 5 months ago

Text

The Moon's Lies

Summary: Kylo Ren x named!Reader. It was never going to be black or white, Light or Dark, friend or foe. Who wouldn't let the galaxy burn to keep their loved ones safe?

Warnings: 18+, Murder/"execution," graphic violence, unspoken threat of bodily harm, twisted morals, Kylo Ren being himself

Masterlist

Canon Divergence Notes: There is no Rey. Finn is the destined Jedi, and he leaves the scar on Ren’s face during the climactic fight on Starkiller Base. The only original canon kept after TFA is the destined Jedi (Finn) leaving to find Luke and Snoke pushing Kylo Ren to the breaking point, continuing the student-kills-the-master cycle. Summary: No Rey. Finn is training to be a Jedi. Kylo Ren takes the throne from Snoke.

This chapter is the only pre-TFA part of the story. Everything after that is in the AU as described.

A/N: Holy shit, I'm having so much fun with this. You all have no idea (but you will soon). Out here crafting whole-ass mythologies and cultures for this shit. Literally forgot to post this first chapter because I'm neck-deep in the next. Please, please, please do comment! I post for interactions with friends new and old. Otherwise I'd hoard all my embarrassing stories like the grouchy old dragon I really am.

He needed to maul something.

His lightsaber practically vibrated on his belt, answering the pull of itching hands as Kylo Ren stormed into the planet-side depot. Civilians scattered from their orderly lines in front of the First Order’s regional bureaucratic office, startled like so many kaadus. The system had so little to offer, the Order couldn’t even justify a separate complex for the port authority and notary.

A shabby little base on a barren little world. If he could, he’d sink his saber to the planet’s core and kill it all in one, fell stroke.

What a waste of his time.

The rebel insurgent had nothing. They hunted him to the edge of the First Order’s territory only to discover a dead end whose handful of contacts met the heat of Kylo’s blade long ago. They’d missed something. He’d missed something. Instead of fresh leads into the Resistance’s plans, he would leave empty handed. This detour took weeks, and he couldn’t shake the feeling that their enemies were planning something. But in the end, the only thing the dead Rodian had been good at was hiding. Any trooper could’ve shot the scum and been done with it. No need for the Knights of Ren.

He looked like a fool.

Rage tipped over the edge of reason, flooding logic, and plans, and anything but the dark urge to destroy.

He marched through the door, well ahead of his knights. The stormtroopers were nearly as eager to avoid his wrath as the civilians, and he burst into an empty hall. The faintest conversation reached him, a hum of living Force further inside. He followed it. Down the hall. Around the corner. Gathering fuel to further spark his hate for this place and all the people in it as he approached.

A crisp, core world accent he had no doubt belonged to an officer carried farthest.

“I’m afraid it just won’t do. If you want clearance to leave for Gan Moradir, I’ll need those credits in my hand. Today.”

“You already have them.”

The second voice almost surprised Ren. He could barely feel the speaker’s signature, and he rested his hand on his saber, ready for a battle. No one unskilled in the Force could veil themselves like that.

From the sound of things, he had two valid targets to suffer for his humiliation. With new focus, he prepared to take the last corner, the heat in his blood ready to burn through the traitors and fools ahead.

Just out of sight, the officer tsked. “Not enough, I’m afraid.”

“Do you plan on demanding more every time we visit your system?”

“I could.”

“I’m afraid that will be very bad for trade.”

Ren saw the pair before they saw him. A First Order corporal with his hands clasped behind his back and a sneer on his face stood opposite a civilian girl, both oblivious to their approaching doom.

“Corporal.”

The man practically jumped out of his uniform, eyes bugging wide. The girl barely even flinched, following the officer’s panicked gaze with guarded curiosity. Ren would deal with her after he thinned the ranks. It was important to cut out rot before it spread, after all.

“Lord Ren!” The officer’s voice wavered, nearly breaking like a teenager’s as he took two steps away from the civilian and bowed to his superior. “My apologies. We’d heard your knights may be in the system, but we had no idea you’d actually –”

“What is the First Order’s standing on bribery?” He asked like he didn’t know simply so the criminal would recite his own conviction. Let him know how he’d failed. Let the fear string out his last moment.

The corporal’s mind couldn’t keep pace with his spiking adrenaline. He shifted, eyes darting for an escape, an excuse, as he tried to drag an explanation through his dry mouth.

“Well, I…”

Ren had no mercy. And no patience. His hand clenched over his blade’s hilt, and he imagined he could already feel the subtle vibration as it came to life to end another’s.

“Well?”

The corporal swallowed, and Ren watched the confidence roll away down the man’s throat.

“Soliciting or accepting bribes in any form, be it credits or goods, is a class three offense, sir.” He spoke clearly. Responding to a clear order with clear rules he would’ve learned by rote in training. He knew the consequences for disguising this theft behind the First Order’s banner, and now Ren would reveal a new part of the corporal. Blood. Bone. The messy things he wrapped out of sight beneath his skin.

Ren hummed. A mockery of consideration as he swayed nearer, forcing the smaller man to stare up at a painful angle. Decapitation was too neat for such a selfish little traitor. Maybe he’d sheer away half the man’s chest. Or leave him in a dozen pieces for his command to discover.

“I see.” He stalked forward another step, savoring the building dread like a cool wind beneath his mask. “And what is the punishment for class three offenses?”

The officer’s lingering hopes to put off his superior with a lie – Blame the girl, his mind screamed – finally crumbled. The dread Force-wielder had caught him. He knew enough to damn him. He’d been judged. He’d been sentenced. Only one step remained. Kylo Ren loomed, a Loth cat playing with vermin caught raiding the larder, and his uniform was an invitation to deal justice, not the shield the corporal once believed. He backpedaled, nearly foaming at the mouth as he spluttered a final plea for mercy.

“Lord Ren, please! I merely –!”

Red light and a crackling hum cut him off.

Ren speared the traitor through the belly, letting the fool totter backwards, wheezing for a breath that would never come. The corrupt officer groped over his exposed diaphragm as he tumbled to the floor, and his head met the polished floor with a crack as he continued pointlessly gasping.

It wouldn’t be a quick death.

Satisfied, Ren looked at the second actor in this little scene. She’d barely flinched when he struck down the corporal, but her attention remained fixed on the dying criminal. Ren waited for the inevitable wave of panic, ready to toy with a fresh target, but the life ending at her feet held her gaze. Something about her blunted his senses, and he struggled to pry into her mind beyond what she projected: caution and studied calm.

Maybe it was shock. Or maybe she needed reminding of her own mortality.

Ren cut off the corporal’s death rattle with a stroke of his saber, and as the head rolled across the hall, the girl finally looked up to meet his gaze. He glowered back through his visor, itching for her reaction.

She bowed. Maintaining the poise of a diplomat who hadn’t just witnessed a brutal execution, she dipped at the knees, dropping her eyes in polite deference before rising to meet him all over again. Still as a lake.

His lightsaber hissed, twisting in his grip. He pointed it under her chin, demanding she answer every question he hadn’t asked.

“You.” He didn’t bother with the show he’d put on for the corporal. Her careful placidity irritated him, and it felt like her very presence muted his senses when he hunted for her fear.

He looked again, noting the grey stone pendant and loops of beads she wore. A memory teased the edge of his lingering rage, dragging his focus away from his quest for bloodshed. He’d seen that material before. He recognized the numbing sensation in the Force from a failed project to build better restraints for Force sensitive prisoners. “What is that?”

Her fingers rose to the pendant, brushing over an unfamiliar pattern of engraved stars.

“It’s Selenubis, sir.” She paused, flicking her gaze over his mask like she might find a clue to his expression. When he didn’t answer, she pushed ahead. “A traditional protection charm from Lethe. If it’s offensive to the First Order I can come again with out it…?”

Behind his mask, he ground his teeth, clawing against the foggy wall so few of her thoughts penetrated. Selenubis proved useless to the First Order when it became clear the stone did as much to shield a prisoner from other Force users as it did to shackle the target.

She wanted to return without her shield? She wouldn’t leave with it. He’d hack it off her neck, and if he didn’t like what he found in her head, she wouldn’t leave with that, either.

His flickering saber reflected in her eyes as he angled it up, forcing her to expose her throat as red lightning reflected in bottomless reservoirs of control. He didn’t believe for a second she was ignorant of the power in her little trinkets and beads.

Just as he prepared to cleave through her jewelry – and likely leave a deep burn to remember him by – one of his knights burst into the hall.

“Commander. The Supreme Leader requests your presence. Immediately, sir.”

His foiled rage rebounded, arcing like a current through his bones and burning him with his own intent as he growled in frustration. The sound hissed through his modulator.

This would have to wait.

Deactivating his saber, he stepped back, pivoted on his heel, and marched back the way he came. He would have to relive his humiliation at his master’s feet, and there was no time to vent his frustrations.

He left no orders in his rush to answer his master’s summons. No one held the girl or even took special note of her name and business as he knelt before Snoke’s projected image, and by the time he returned to the hall, she was gone.

The documentation the dead corporal had been withholding, a pile on the floor by his headless corpse, had gone with her.

#kylo ren x reader #kylo ren x oc #kylo ren fanfiction #ben solo x reader #named!reader #ben solo x oc #fem!reader #fic: the moon's lies

33 notes · View notes

cissyenthusiast010155 · 2 years ago

Note

Hear me out because I absolutely need an enemies to lovers style captain Phasma X jedi reader hate fuck

Ooooooooh yes! I would absolutely love to write this 🤤 This takes place before episode 7 btw, when the first order is looking for Skywalker but hasn’t captured Poe yet.

Rock Bottom ~Captain Phasma xFem Jedi!Reader

Mommy…Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!!, smut, enemies to lovers, degrading kink, strap fucking, hate fucking, grey/questionable consent area…?, etc…

Enjoy (;

It was the time of the First Order. And they were desperate for Luke Skywalker.

Recently, there had been a tip off of an extremely powerful jedi hiding off on a deserted moon on the edge of the galaxy.

The tip off had said a jedi had shut down a First Order inspection of the moon with ease.

“Sir, we’re coming up on the moon.” a first order officer reported to Kylo Ren.

“Good. Captain, I want you to at my side.” Ren commanded, motioning towards Phasma.

“Yes, sir.” Phasma replied.

The first order’s ship landed on the deserted moon and began their search for Skywalker.

The nearby suns were cresting at high noon, when Ren tilted his head sensing a pull from the force.

“This way.” He directed the selective group of troopers.

The group made their way through a thick forest before coming to a clearing with a hut in the middle of it.

There was still smoke coming from the chimney…

“Captain, take a line of men to make sure he doesn’t escape. The rest of you, surround the hut.” Ren ordered

The men slowly crept up around the hut, as Phasma took some troopers to the edge of the forest.

Phasma watched as the men then invaded the hut with shouts.

But it was empty…

Suddenly, Phasma heard a snap of a twig behind her.

She turned around and caught a glimpse of something rustling away from her position.

“Lieutenant, keep the troopers in formation!” Phasma shouted as she ran off to follow the movement.

From a distance one could see the lieutenant terrified and explaining the situation to Kylo Ren, who was quick to follow the Captain.

As Phasma ran deeper into the woods, so did you.

You both could feel Ren on your heels.

You were a surviving jedi who had barely escaped with your life on multiple occasions now.

As you ran through the trees, you tripped.

You tripped and hit your head on a tree stump.

Hard.

You tried to get up and keep running but you were met with a blackened vision and immediate dizziness.

You could barely see a shimmering trooper running towards you.

And that’s when you passed out.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You had been the captive of Ren for a week now.

Or at least that was your guess.

You were held in a windowless room and tortured on the regular.

What you assumed to be every day, Ren would come in and try and extract the location of Skywalker from you.

But you couldn’t tell him.

You didn’t know.

After what you assumed to be three weeks, Ren was getting frustrated.

You had been trained explicitly for using the force as a defense for the mind and Ren couldn’t penetrate you.

One particular harsh day, Ren was going on for hours…

After awhile, Captain Phasma stepped in and requested Ren.

With a huff, Ren stepped back from you, who was on the border of unconsciousness.

“If you’d let me take a stab at her, I’m sure I could have her talking.”

You heard the Captain say in a muffled tone.

Then you vaguely recall seeing a frustrated Kylo Ren storm off.

You sighed.

You assumed that meant you were done for the day.

But the Captain then came in.

She then proceeded to undo you from the torture chair and drag you down the hallway to your cell.

She threw you on the ground and turned around to close and lock the door.

You tried to stifle a groan, but it slipped out anyway.

You heard Phasma chuckle.

You got yourself to lean against the cell wall and looked to find Phasma standing and leaning against the opposing wall.

“You’re a curious one, aren’t you, jedi scum…” Phasma stated.

You said nothing but simply stared her down with your body shaking and your breathing labored.

Phasma then crouched down, mere inches away from your face, and you raised your head to meet her helmet.

“I’ll have you talking in days…” She taunted, although her tone was extremely serious.

You dryly laughed a bit, “What are you gonna do, torture me?”

At your words, her hand was on your neck and squeezing.

You whimpered at the touch, unable to stifle your sounds.

“You’re going to wish I tortured you…” She seethed.

She then let you go and left with a slam of the door.

You gasped for air.

On the other side, you could hear a muffled Phasma yelling, “No on is to go in there and no one is to give her anything!”

It was then that your body gave out on you and lost consciousness.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You spent the next few days in the dark with no one and no food and no water.

Finally, you heard the click of the door and light flooded into your cell, causing your cell lights to switch on as well.

You winced.

The door closed again and you heard the click of the lock.

Once your eyes had adjusted, you saw a tall woman in front of you.

Fuck was she stunning…

Your thoughts had started to spiral from all the depravity from the last few days.

She was wearing a basic training uniform, but she didn’t look like a basic first order trooper…

You could spend days imaging what she’d look like underneath that ill suited uniform…

The woman crouched down to your lied down figure, grabbing you by the chin and lifting you to your feet.

Successfully pinning you to the wall.

“Does my Jedi scum feel like talking now…?” Phasma jeered.

Oh Fuck…

It clicked for you now.

It was Phasma…

“Fuck you!” You spat in her face.

Phasma chuckled darkly.

“Just remember I gave you a way out…” She sneered with glimmering eyes.

Your stomache was a pit…

You knew very well what tension was between the two of you…

Without warning, Phasma flipped you around, caging your hands above your head with one hand and tilting her chin sideways with her other.

Your breathing was erratic.

Your pupils were blown wide.

“You want something scum?” Phasma taunted.

You gulped and stayed silent.

She then pressed her body against yours, squishing you against the wall.

Oh, OHhhHHh Fuck…

You couldn’t help the whimper that escaped your throat from the bulge you felt ghost grinding against your ass.

She was packing…

You were trying your best to take deep breaths, but your body was reacting against your will.

You found yourself pressing your ass against her bulge.

Phasma wickedly chuckled again, “Already so needy, slut?” she taunted you.

Your heart raced tripled at that nickname…

“No...” You gritted out, which both of you knew was an obvious lie…

“Really?” She mock-taunted, “So if I were to slip my finger in your cunt, your telling me that you wouldn’t be soaked and your walls wouldn’t flutter in desperation…”

You shuddered at her words and tried to stifle the moan that came up at the idea of someone touching you…

Especially her…

But before you could process anything else, you felt Phasmas fingers ghosting the back waistband of your pants.

“Why don’t we find out how much of a slut you really are, scum…” She lustfully jeered.

With that, she had hooked your pants with her finger and dropped them to the floor.

You gasped as the cold air hit your wobbly legs.

“Oh my, do I make your knees weak, slut…?” Phasma taunted.

You merely whimpered in response.

With that, you could feel Phasmas fingers slipping under your underwear and finding exactly what she had been looking for…

“Fuck jedi, you’re dripping…” she breathed out, her own voice faltering.

Your face went red with embarrassment and shame.

You weren’t supposed to feel this way…

And she knew that…

She was exploiting that…

You tried to squeeze your thighs together at that, but Phasma was quick to stop you by shoving your legs apart with her own.

She then removed her fingers from your soaked cunt, eliticing another whimper from you.

“Are you ready to talk yet, slut? Or do you need further encouragement…?” She jeered into your ear.

“Fuck you…!” You spat yet again.

Phasma chuckled and continued her taunts, “Seems like the slut needs to be taught a lesson…”

In seconds, Phasmas trousers and underwear were lowered so that now you could feel her strap right on your ass…

She moved your body in one swoop so that your ass was sticking out more and your legs were widened.

“Please…” you whimpered, at this point you were so conflicted you didn’t know what you were begging for…

With her available fingers, Phasma moved your underwear to the side and placed her dick right on your clit.

At this your hips bucked forward.

“Please God please…!” You cried out, half of you begging her to stop, the other half begging her to fuck you dumb…

“You asked for it, slut…” She breathed, her voice coated in lustful venom.

Her hips then thrusted her dick straight into your aching hole with no warning and no time to adjust.

It was impossible to contain your cries this time.

Phasma began to pound into from behind as you writhed and screamed in a mixture of pain and pleasure.

“OhHhh God right there…!!” you cried out as Phasma bottomed you out.

“That’s right. I am your God…” She hissed in your ear, while relentlessly hitting your g-spot without fail with every single thrust.

Your legs were trembling so badly now, they were threatening to collapse…

Your breathing was erratic and all over the fucking place…

As much as you hated to admit it, you were gonna fucking cum…

And Phasma knew it.

“Oh my, does my slut wanna cum…?” She taunted.

“I… please… don’t stop…!!” You spurted out your words, unable to form a coherent sentence.

Tears were now streaming down your eyes.

This was so wrong…

You could feel yourself about to tip over the edge and one last thrust from Phasma did it.

The orgasmic wave hit you like a brick wall…

Your eyes rolled back and your body spasmed against your captor.

Your screams were so out of control, Phasma had to quickly clasp your mouth shut.

After a minute, Phasma pulled out of you and unclasped her hands from your mouth, and you immediately collapsed on the floor, panting like a fucking dog and your mind reeling from what you had just done.

Phasma took the time to collect herself as well, the silence being a pleasantry for both of you.

You were the one who broke it.

“I don’t know where Skywalker is…” you whispered, looking up to your captor with a tear stained face.

Phasma met your gaze and lightly chuckled.

“I believe you.”

338 notes · View notes

masterjedilenawrites · 1 year ago

Text

In Other Words: Chapter 3

Hux x fem!reader | 2k words

Content warnings: Threats, bullying, cursing, displays of anger, references to past abuse (par for the course with Hux)

< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter >

You should've taken that offer to sleep in for the day.

Your alarm went off at 5, which was already ambitiously early, but you figured you'd need the time these first few days until you got the hang of Hux's morning schedule. Dry cleaning, freshly brewed caf, and updated reports were just a few of the items you'd need to have prepared before his day would officially start at 7.

But no sooner did you turn off your alarm and rub at your eyes a bit did another sound start emanating frantically from your holo pad.

Messages from Hux, about six in a row, lit up the screen and you blinked through your fatigue trying to keep up with them all. Something about a change in plans for the day, needing some of his meetings rescheduled, and all due to the arrival of...

"Ren?" you muttered to yourself, not immediately placing the name and first thinking it was some sort of acronym or First Order slang you'd never heard of. And then you yawned and re-read the message.

Oh kriff, Ren.

Your stomach started turning over and over itself, like the time you'd stumbled down a hill and couldn't seem to stop yourself from rolling helplessly - and painfully - over until you'd reached the bottom. The panic you'd felt the first time you were in Hux's office was threatening to overtake you again. This was all too real. Too much. You didn't want to be here. You didn't want to be here.

You didn't want to be here.

You swung your legs over the side of the bed and planted your feet firmly on the floor. You forced yourself to take a long, deep breath. And then you made yourself take another. A slow and patient inhale, a steady and calm exhale. Again. Inhale, exhale. It wasn't long before your nerves stopped buzzing and you felt in control again.

It was one thing to be working for the General of your enemies, it was another entirely to be near the fearsome Force user known as Kylo Ren. You would have to be careful, lest he detect the conflict and fear within you. You didn't survive a week of torture to simply be ousted by the Force. And besides, it wasn't just about you, but protecting your friend's life as well.

Oh, Nat. You sighed, knowing you owed her a follow up conversation. To clear the air. Get back to being on the same side again. Whether it was her fault you were here or not, it was all water under the bridge at this point. All that mattered now was your mutual survival, and you'd get nowhere without each other.

You hurried through your own morning ritual, getting cleaned up and dressed as best you could in the little space they'd given you for a room. Two more messages from Hux popped up along the way and you quickly offered reassuring responses. You were on it. No worries. Right away, sir. General.

* * *

It wasn't that Hux cared about Ren and what he thought. On the contrary, the bastard could disappear from existence tomorrow and Hux wouldn't even be bothered by it. It's not like the First Order needed him, anyway. Operations would continue as usual, wouldn't even skip a beat. The Supreme Leader was the only one who cared, for whatever reason. Something about the Force and other sorts of nonsense.

No, Hux didn't care about Ren. He just really, really hated him.

And that was why plans were being shuffled around, meetings canceled, extra wax added to the floors. He couldn't have Ren getting in the way of things, and he certainly wasn't interested in being served a dish of hotheaded, snarky criticism, either. Phasma got it. She'd have already redirected most of the troops to a training simulation on a different floor for the day. He just prayed to whatever god was available that this new assistant of his would understand what he meant by needing his "good coat" today.

She arrived on time; impressive, considering he'd moved that time up a couple hours early, and on her first official day, no less. But that was all. She did not have his good coat, the one that would whoosh behind him dramatically as he crossed the hangar to greet Ren. Hux sighed in frustration as he was handed his stiff, ceremonial wool coat instead.

"Oh no. Did I get the wrong one?" she asked, not seeming too overly panicked or remorseful.

"It's fine," he huffed, not having time to care about it further. He hoisted the thing on, hating how the stiff wool made him feel more trapped than he already was.

"Did you still want your coffee, or...?" she asked next, gesturing to a lidded cup she'd set down nearby.

He brushed that off, too.

"No, I can't drink anything right now," he mumbled. His stomach felt like it had shriveled up, and that even one drop of something would surely be too much to handle. But that wasn't the sort of thing he needed to explain in detail to an assistant. Or anyone for that matter.

He kept his jaw locked and his focused on keeping his heart rate under control. All he had to do was get through the next hour or so, and then Ren would retreat to his own quarters. Or if the universe was being really kind, he'd have another mission to go on and would leave right away.

Hux led the way down the corridors to the hangar. A few other lower level officers trailed behind, ready to attend to whatever Ren needed upon his arrival. Hux glanced behind at his own assistant whenever they turned a corner, noting how obliviously calm she was. He envied her.

They reached the hangar just as Ren's ship flew in. Most of the crew rushed up to where the craft would touch down, while Hux elected to stand further back. Not only did he not have his good swooshing coat, but he was also just didn't care. Make the bastard walk to him, not the other way around.

He could feel his assistant standing beside him, just outside his periphery. And as he watched Ren's ship land, wings folding neatly upwards, trails of smoke hissing from hydraulic legs, he was overcome with a thought. A feeling, really. It was always a mystery how Ren would present himself, if he'd be in a mood or somewhat akin to normal. Either way, the man always had the potential to be dangerous. What if he tried to interfere with this experiment with the defectors? What if he mocked Hux for allowing a potential spy so close? Or worse?

No, no he couldn't have her near him.

"Lieutenant, you may proceed with your rounds now," he turned to her. She looked at him with wide, questioning eyes, undoubtedly surprised by his sudden directive. "I don't know how long I'll be tied up with this, so just make sure to have your reports on my desk by the end of the day and we'll reconvene tomorrow."

He turned back around to see the ramp of Ren's ship starting to lower. He still felt her nearby, shifting a bit, probably out of nervousness. He hadn't yet walked her through how the rounds should go, hadn't even notified any of the departments about her, but there was simply no time. He was nervous, too. Ren would be coming down any moment.

"Go," he snapped.

Thankfully she finally hastened off, as Ren was, in fact, in a mood.

A really, really bad one.

"I need a battalion of troopers ready to go in one hour," the modulated voice of Kylo Ren echoed across the hangar as the masked man marched down the ramp. Who he was giving orders to? Unclear. Hux continued to stand where he was several feet away. "And I want whatever fool suggested we visit kriffing Clonu to show themselves!"

The teams of officers, mechanics, and security personnel around the hangar bay hesitated in their efforts to move forward with their jobs. Ren was continuing to march along, headed for the hallway out, so Hux just waved a hand at them to continue.

"Bad trip?" he asked with as straight a face he could manage. Though Ren's temper could be unsafe, it was also amusing. Hux would gladly take screamed threats and sparks flying in his face if it showed just how out of control, how powerless, Ren was compared to him.

Ren did not answer Hux, just continued to stomp by him. Hux ground his teeth as he was forced to skip a little just to catch up and fall into step beside him.

"And what's this about a battalion?" Hux went ahead and asked, though he would much rather not be the one without necessary information between them.

"The map wasn't on Clonu. But you know what was?" Ren stopped abruptly and whirled on Hux. "An ambush. Those rebels knew we were coming, and now one of my knights is dead!"

His voice, his anger, was rising with every word.

"One of your officers gave us that location and I want to know why. And then I want a battalion ready for my revenge!"

Ren whirled back around and made a beeline for the lifts... the lift, the one that led to the comms room for the Supreme Leader. Hux gulped. If Ren lost control in there, no one would see it but him. And that would make any lash that much more painful to bear.

And yet, he still hastened to follow. Ren couldn't just strut about demanding things. He'd have to plead his case to the Supreme Leader.

"A battalion is hardly keeping a low profile, Ren," Hux spat just as the doors closed behind them. He tried not to think about how much he hated lifts and instead focused on how much he hated the man he was sharing it with. "Raids and skirmishes, that's what the--"

"As if you understand what Leader Snoke wants." Ren turned to face him, his dark, fearsome mask just inches away from Hux's face. "As if it wasn't your incompetence that led to this mess."

"My incom--" Hux was in the middle of scoffing when Ren's fist came slamming down against the wall by his head.

"Don't try to snivel your way out of this one, you filthy runt."

Hux had heard worse, but oh how he loathed that he flinched. Though Ren's mask covered his features, he knew the bastard was smirking about it.

"If you won't serve me your traitor's head, then I'll cut it off myself, even if I have to make my way down the line to find the right one."

Hux set his jaw, determined not to let any of this get under his skin. "I will not--"

"Coward!" Ren yelled, bringing his fist down again for emphasis and causing Hux to flinch yet again. Hux frowned deeply as Ren continued to crowd him in the corner of the lift, breathing heavily, threats of worse to come if Hux dared to push further.

And so he didn't. This position wasn't new to him; he knew better than any which fights were with having. And this one, over some sort of paranoid nonsense, without any sort of back up or witnesses, was most assuredly not worth even his pride.

Ren took the hint and slowly backed off with a demeaning scoff. The lift began to slow as well, nearing its destination.

"We'll see what Leader Snoke has to say about this, hm?" Ren sneered.

Hux stood there feeling like a scolded child, his gaze set straight ahead and his jaw clenched so tightly he could already feel a headache coming on.

And not for the first time since they'd entered the lift, though it was quite a strange thought to keep having given the circumstances, Hux was grateful he'd sent his assistant away when he did. His instincts had been right. If Ren was this worked up over a logistics officer giving him bad information, then he certainly would've had a shit fit over a resistance deserter.

Best keep that one close to the chest, Hux decided, even at the expense of whatever demands would have to be met today.

In Other Words Tag: @lucyysthings, @lemongingerart, @marvel-starwars-nerd, @eternal-silvertongued-prince, @techie-bear, @nahoney22

✨Join A Tag List Here!✨

< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter >

📚 Full Length Fics Master List | 🌙 Master List of Master Lists

#star wars #hux x reader #general hux #armitage hux #first order #assistant!reader #fem!reader #kylo ren #eventual fluff #slow burn

55 notes · View notes

girl-next-door-writes · 2 years ago

Text

How Can We Say Forever

Characters: Armitage Hux x reader

Summary: There is a fine line between the fantasy and the reality. So when that line is crossed, Armitage does what he feels is necessary to survive.

Word Count: 1097 words

Prompt: Angst. Mutual pining. Everyone knows but them. A kiss without thinking. Help fixing clothes.

A/N: @morby requested a touch of angst for my favourite general as part of my follower milestone celebration, and so here it is.

It had been the right thing to do. Obviously it was the correct decision, so why did he have to spend so much time telling himself that? Strategically, it made sense for you to take a squadron and set up a base in the abandoned Rebel camp, find out as much as you could about the area. Professionally, it made sense for you to gain this promotion of sorts. Personally… well.

If asked, Armitage could tell someone how long, to the very minute, it had been since you had left his side. Like a slow drip in the back of his mind, his body tracked the loss, stealing him of sleep and what little appetite he had. Countless times, he turned a corner and believed, for a fraction of a second, that he caught a glimpse of you. There were moments he thought he caught the scent of your shampoo. The whole situation was slowly driving him insane. Your absence was more of a distraction than your presence had ever been.

“General Hux.” Your voice cut through his thoughts. Even the grainy hologram of you didn’t ease the deep ache within him. These update reports had started as the highlights of his week, but now they were just a reminder of the distance between you.

His image appeared before you, causing your heart to race. He looked like he hadn’t been sleeping, exhaustion etched on his features, and you felt a pang of concern. What you would give to be there to take on some of his burdens, to lighten his load. Then again, that was the problem was it not? You had got too close and now you were banished from his presence.

It had started out as little things, helping with paperwork, bringing him an extra caff on your way past the bridge when he was on shift. At first, he seemed surprised by your gestures, then intrigued. The line between you grew blurred and you had taken for granted all the little smirks and knowing looks he sent your way, thinking this was how it would always be, you and your General.

Of course, this behaviour did not go unnoticed by others. Phasma would roll her eyes affectionately whenever she saw you approaching her and Hux, knowing that she had lost his attention completely as soon as he spotted you. Kylo had publicly berated you for a mistake which was not your fault, and paused mid-sentence when he felt the heat of Armitage’s anger pulsing through him. Ren turned to look at the General who was trying so hard to conceal his emotions, knowing protecting you would only lead to ruin. Several underlings on the base had figured out that, if they had to take bad news to their General, then the best time would be when you were there, somehow you always lessened the blow.

This budding, whatever it was, was clear to see by everyone who saw the two of you together and yet, if asked, you both would insist it was a professional respect and nothing more. That was until the incident.

Standing in his office, Armitage frowned as he went over his notes for his latest address. The fine balance between inspiration and lecturing he usually excelled at felt a little forced this time.

“I just don’t think it is stirring enough.” He grumbled as you took the notes from him and cast your eye over them.

“I think, there are troops who would feel inspired by you even if you read them the instruction manual for refresher installation. It is just as much about how you say it as it is what you say.” You place the notes on the desk and smooth down the lapels of his coat, picking off an errant piece of lint that had dared defile his ensemble.

As your fingers worked over the cloth, Armitage felt as if time had slowed. Holding his breath, his eyes took in every detail of your face, savoring the proximity. There was something about having you this close that made his brain glitch. He felt heat rising up the back of his neck and just prayed you wouldn’t notice the panicked look in his eyes. The desire to say something witty, to make you smile, or even laugh, was overwhelming and left him speechless.

“There. Perfectly presentable.” You hummed, looking up from the coat with a soft smile. “Go inspire the masses, Sir.”

And that was when it happened. That was the moment that changed everything. Without a thought, you had leaned in and placed a kiss to his cheek as if it were the most natural thing for you to do.

On the loneliest of nights, when he lay in the dark of his bedroom, Armitage closed his eyes and would swear he could feel the warmth of your breath, the softness of your lips, the stain of your kiss forever imprinted upon his soul.

Armitage stiffened at the contact, bringing you back to your senses and you hurriedly pulled away, eyes wide with panic.

“Sir, I-“ whatever you had been about to say, whatever apology that might have fallen from your lips was interrupted by a trooper informing the General that he was required urgently. And so, he had left. He left you standing there in his office wondering how badly you had damaged your relationship.

Armitage had been a coward, he knew that. After going out of his way to avoid you, he had happened upon this advancement for your career. He knew you sort him out when you received your new orders, Phasma had told him as much, but he couldn’t bring himself to see you. If you were physically in his presence then either you would apologise and he would see how much you wished to take back that moment, a moment that had become the most precious to him, OR he would take back this promotion because the reality of never seeing you again would break his heart.

The latter was not an option. You had to go. Somehow, you had become his weakness and as soon as that was discovered then he was done for. There was no room in the First Order for ‘happy ever after’, no space for ‘forever’. He didn’t deserve that kind of life and a romantic entanglement would only prevent him from focusing on his long term goals. It was the right thing to do. Strategically, professionally, it was the right decision. So why did he feel that he was simply sitting here, waiting for you?

#Armitage Hux #Armitage Hux x reader #Hux x reader #General Hux x reader #gndw fic

290 notes · View notes