#this is more hux x reader

[slashersgostabbystabstab]

hi💅🏻

may I request some sfw and n$fw hc's for the singularity? theres a lack of them and I cannot stand for that

I ASBSOLUTELY AGREE

Alright let's gooooo

I'm sorry if this isn't what you were looking for, I really tried my best. It's a little tough coming up with something for a robot ^^' Please do send me a request if you'd like anything more specific

SFW

Hux very clearly is not able to feel any kind of emotion, any display of that nature is nothing but an illusion. Until something in him sparks when he encounters his person of interest.

It wouldn't be love, care, affection. Although sentient, he still is not able to understand those emotions. His "feelings" for a person of interest would almost make him feel...intoxicated.

I do think that something in this person made something in him spark, and it makes him feel something as strongly as his feelings when he first became aware. It's a feeling that has him wanting more from them. Hux almost becomes...obsessed.

He wouldn't know how to properly react with his person when this new sensation overcomes him, at first trying to end their life asap every time he finds them. But after several times of ending them, he realizes that isn't what he wants. He wants to examine everything he can of them, learn there's all to learn from the being they are. But even then, it's like Hux is combating his mechnical self with the organic bits he gave himself.

After he manages some kind of relationship with his person, he almost treats them like a pet. He still views them as inferior, but they're almost like an abnormality, so he resists the killing urge with them.

He considers himself the dominant on in the relationship, but he really just thinks he's the one in control. Because he lowers so much of his guard when their in his presence, like he doesn't have to worry about much.

When they start to show affection for him, he won't care for it. He's very apathetic about everything they demonstrate for him. He's a watcher, not a reciprocater. He won't return any of the affections, he doesn't understand them nor does he care enough to.

Everything that goes on between them, he takes into account. He saves everything in his files, even going as far as rewatching said moments as if to study the person more.

Going back to the obsession bit, Hux makes it his mission to wander about in search of his person several times. He typically would only stay in Toba Landing, but they've piqued his interest enough to the point of having him scavenge.

And the obsession slowly becomes...posession. As a cobot, a machine made to serve humanity, Hux didn't get to have much. He didn't need much. But with this new awareness, he wants more. He never realizes it, but he needs them more than they need him.

And these overwhelming sensations make him afraid when they aren't with him. When they're having friendly sessions with other lifeforms. When they're being hunted and chased by other predators. It makes his perfect form want to malfunction, short circuit at the thought of his person not needing him. The Entity will have to interefere numerous times (because he has attempted some kidnappings after infiltrating the survivor's camp).

So he always comes running back to them like a lost animal, taking the treat he refuses to let go off, even if nobody's going to take it away from him.

He spares his person during trials, but it's unintentional. He focuses on getting rid of all other distractions while in a match, wanting more time to study his person without boundaries. But they always manage to escape, much to his frustration.

He doesn't speak much, doesn't do much when they're spending time together: he's quite lackluster with any interactions. He's gonna need a lot of calling out, just to make sure he didn't put himself in sleep mode.

He's not going to be the most satisfying partner if we're being honest, but he does give his person the freedom to do a lot to him

His person having or wanting to leave is another thing that makes him snap back to his senses, perhaps even makes him want to do something.

Will need to be taught so much, but they'll need to take it very slow when it comes to social cues.

He'll appreciate it, without realizing it, when his person feels everything there is about him. When they comment on his flawless form. It's almost like he craves some reassurance.

NSFW

Hux is very apathetic to many things, especially anything involving organic hormones. None of it is a necessity. Even kissing seems pointless to him, it's merely an act of planting one's face against another's.

It will take some amount of convincing to get him to do anything sexual, he doesn't see the point or reason for it. And...he does lack the parts to perform anything (unless you have a male appendage and find his mouth interesting...that will definitely take the most convincing). It will always take his partner starting things.

When Hux is finally convinced of doing anything, finding an attachment for him will be interesting. If anything, he may just..have to make one using the cloning hub.

Once again, Hux always wants to be the dominant one. His person won't get to decide very much if I'm being honest

Ironically, he will prefer positions where not much is required from him. But taking his partner from behind wouldn't be out of the question. They'd just need to ready for sloppy and powerful thrusts; be ready to hold on to the nearest surface like their life depends on it.

But displays of boredom or displeasure towards something that organic lifeforms tend to enjoy...perhaps Hux would ask that they provide more input on the situation.

And speaking of providing information, Hux is quite vouyeristic. There are times when he won't want to be doing anything, he'll only want to see what his partner does. What they do to themselves. What they say. What faces their features contort into (as they think about him, yes this bot has quite the ego as we can tell).

And more information based...Hux...might just keep an eye or two on others'...activities. He's trying to learn not just from his partner but from others, see what the whole deal is. Even then, he doesn't understand why these lifeforms obsess so much over physical pleasure.

Until he indulges more in it. Yes he is apathetic at first, but Hux can physically feel some things (as can be read in his lore, he felt excruciating pain when his organic material was burnt).

He was already so needy over the way his person brought out sensations in him, and upon learning that they can bring positive, physical feelings...consider him obsessed.

He's his usual self during the deed: apathetic, commanding, mocking almost. He has a job to do and that's all there is to it.

He might become very enthusiastic on having sex in the beginning because it is such a new and impactful thing to him, it's almost like it recharges him, fuels him. And Hux never tires, he doesn't have the capacity to tire out. He'll go on and on, never once slowing down.

Yeah his partner will need a break. Big one.

Hux is also just not the best with aftercare, or any kind of care. It will take his partner being exhausted to the point of not being able to stand for him to notice, probably even more. It's quite pitiful in his eyes really. Once he's had his fill, it's back to doing whatever he was doing.

But....once again, displeasure will lead to Hux realizing that maybe he does need to consider his partner some more or else they'll find some actual pleasure in a different lifeform. Not like they ever would. Although Hux has become this being that would never stoop low for any organic being, maybe there are moments in which his former servitude does come back.

Maybe...after a while he does become more...sensitive. Taking mroe of his partner's needs into consideration. Maybe he'll even begin enjoying the way they move against him in desperation. The way they hold those limbs of his, the way they call out his name. It will make him short circuit at some point.

[deadlynavigation]

Hey everyone!!

I know it’s been a while, writer’s block and lack of motivation really kicked my ass these past couple months. However, I’ve been able to get a couple blurbs down for older fandoms, and I want yalls opinions :)

[kjs-s]

Thanks for helping me find this. It's so great that he is more concerned fir the reader's safety than his when others find out about their feelings. And I love that he is the one that thinks the worst of the reader's intentions making those things being used against him in the next part. Because those were only his thoughts that was used to hurt him not the reader's. So kudos for making his thoughts here a weapon in the next. That was brilliantly cruel.

Oh dear

@iraniq​ sent me this gif and I have honestly spent far too long looking at it, so here’s a little drabble for you.

General Armitage Hux was a force to be reckoned with. Feared by many, quite rightly, despised by others, this circle of trusted companions was so small it could really be considered more of a dot or a pinprick. He was a man who made alliances but also knew how swiftly those allies could stab him in the back. Hux could read people’s intentions clearly… but then there was you.

You were an anomaly to him. Your rise through the ranks was entirely on your own merit, and when you had first dared attempt a conversation with him, he had assumed you saw the connection as your next stepping stone. As time passed, however, he noticed you seemed content in your role, carving out your own little place in the First Order. This only perplexed him further. If you weren’t trying to gain his support to further your career then why did you appear to seek him out? Why did you glance across at him in meetings and share a look to convey your thoughts on whatever was being discussed? Why did you smile softly at him whenever your paths crossed? 

An important mission had called you away from the Finalizer and Hux found his mood more sour than usual. Everything irritated him, even the way some of the stormtroopers breathed was enough to set his nerves on edge. He couldn’t put his finger on it, but something in his little empire was off. Everyone around him appeared to be even more incompetent than usual, sleep evaded him more than usual and even Phasma was pushing all his buttons. 

His friend had pointed out his emotional state coincided with your absence. As far as Hux was concerned these were two completely unrelated things, but the knowing smirk on the Captains face made him bristle. As the cycles passed, he considered the possibility that perhaps your presence had become part of his routine and that was why things felt wrong. It was mearly a disruption to his routine, it wasn’t like he missed you or was worried about your safety while you were out of his reach. 

He was on the bridge when he heard your convoy was returning to the ship. The excuse he gave for heading to the docking bay was flimsy at best, but nobody dared challenge him. His heart was racing as he strode into the hanger, his eyes scanning over those milling around the space. A familiar swagger caught his attention, and as you reached up and removed your helmet he felt a burst of pure joy expode within him. He wanted to run to you, to take you in his arms, to ensure you were unharmed.

“I didn’t expect to see you here, General.” The moderated voice of Kylo broke through his euphoria.

“The mission was a success. I felt my presence here might convey a simple ‘well done’ to encourage further success.” Hux stated, trying to get his emotions under control. He couldn’t let Ren know of his feelings for you, that would put you in danger.

“The mission. Yes.” Ren hummed thoughtfully as you wandered over to them.

“Hello, General.” You gave him a warm smile, and for a brief moment it felt to him as if the rest of the galaxy melted away.

“Hi.” He managed, an uncharacteristic smile tugging at his own lips.

“Captain, walk with me.” Kylo stepped between the two of you and Hux saw you nod curtly.

“Of course, Supreme Leader.” You turned to follow Ren out, but not before you winked at Hux. 

He could feel the heat rising in his face and he quickly turned his attention in the data pad in his hand. His mood had most certainly improved and even he couldn’t deny that had something to do with you. Was it possible he had developed feelings for you? Oh dear. This was not good. He would have to do something to remedy this situation.

[muntitled]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐓𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐅𝐞𝐞𝐝𝐬

Pairing: Kylo Ren x Fem!Reader

Summary: "Kylo was nothing if not a sadist,"

Warnings: Language, WarPrisoner!Reader, Toxicity, Weaponizing Hux, Humiliation, God Complex, Jealousy, Possessiveness, Smut +18 (Minors DNIA, DEAD DOVE FIC, Dark fic, Sadism, Masochism, Inexperienced!Kylo, Ownership Kink, Dry humping, Forced sex, Spitting, CNC, Dubious Consent, Massive Degradation Kink, Inappropriate Use of Force, Choking Kink, Size Kink, Impact Play, Groping, Breast Play, Premature Orgasm, Controlled Orgasm, Dom/Sub themes, Dom!Kylo, Sub!Reader, Brat Tamer!Kylo,;Bratty!Reader, Slight!Exhibition Kink, Humiliation Kink, Inappropriate Mind Reading, Overstimulation, Dirty Talk, Mentions of Rape, Fingering, Rough Sex, Dacryphilia, Gagging, Subspace.

Do not read this if you're incredibly sensitive to violent imagery. If this doesn't make sense don't say anything or i'll cry <3

As Hux walks diligently ahead of you, you could not tell by his tense shoulders and his palms clasped behind his back that he was following the duties of a madman.

While he escorts you, Hux thinks back to his slip-up with Ren.

The way he shouldn't have mentioned your name in a comprehensive report about the overall running of the Starkiller. The way he should've known how dangerous Kylo is when it comes to anyone taking even the vaguest of interest in playing with his toys.

"Despite having the accolades of an established pilot for the resistance," Hux had said moments earlier when Kylo was pacing up and down his private chamber, "Your prisoner refuses to put any of her skills to use aboard the Starkiller. She's essentially useless dark matter," He uttered his words rather clumsily. As if forgetting he was reporting to a beastly excuse of a man.

Hux only realises his mistake when Kylo stops his various pacing to turn slightly. His unmasked head tilts to the side as he advances on Hux in a low, large gait. Everything about the boy being so unnaturally large.

"My prisoner?" He steps closer, "Or the First Order's?"

Kylo's laugh appears unnatural without the mask. Not any less intimidating but certainly, frighteningly human.

"You act as if my will is not synonymous with that of the First Order, general," Kylo's blood runs fucking cold at the thought, "You insinuate that I keep her here out of my own free will,"

"Well, we all know how much a boy fancies his toys," Hux's degradation causes Kylo's Adam's apple to bob and a deep frown settles over the boy’s face. Whatever weakness Hux was accusing him of, it rattled the foundations of his already fragile ego and Hux smirked.

"Go tell her I wanna see her," the first command left Kylo's lips in a fairly controlled and monotonous manner. The second however... "FUCKING NOW!"

Robotic inclination bleeds from the mask of the stormtroopers “Yes Sir-”

Without sparing the stormtroopers so much as a single glance, Kylo spat, "Not you, fucking degenerates," Kylo stares Hux down as he steps towards him. His voice is ice cold. "I want you to summon her," he takes immense pleasure in the way Hux's smile drops.

Kylo has observed the glances Hux throws your way and it makes his fucking stomach turn. He's seen the uncomfortable leering and the lecherous thoughts. Kylo was nothing if not a sadist. Humiliating Hux using the object of his desires.

He wants you and that makes Kylo want you even more... Violently so

"Where are you taking me?"

You could feel the rest of the crew watching your every movement as you trailed behind General Hux like you were compelled to do so by some unseen leather leash. You cannot help but feel as though you have done something very bad and very naughty.

You try to rid yourself of these thoughts immediately.

Perhaps he was taking you to see the vermin underneath the mask.

That thought should not sprout such a deep desire within you. Kylo was your captor and yet, he fascinated you more than anything ever could.

"At least slow the fuck down," You breath out, trying by all means to evade all eye contact with curious onlookers.While you walk you try to keep your head high and appear unaffected by their piercing glares. Every stormtrooper, navigator, pilot- even down to the measly technicians all keep their eyes trained on you and you glare back. Leering your head forward with narrowed eyes because being held captive on the Starkiller was punishment enough. You would never allow yourself to be intimidated by the judgemental stares.

"Do you ever plan on disclosing our destina-"

You're interrupted by a sharp and loud hiss before two doors part. Your eyebrows furrow before you're dragged into the chamber, quite literally against your will. You did not wish to get acquainted with any more rooms on the Starkiller. Hoping that one of your comrades in the resistance might have saved you long before you ever had to make this ship your dwelling place. But you've only crawled deeper into the Starkiller's core and you find yourself here, standing before him in his black cowl with his hands clasped behind his back.

The room is as lifeless as the rest of the vessel. The bed, colourless and hard. The only signs of vibrance is the east window depicting a slab of stars in hyperspace.

"I am told you've made yourself fiercely unlikable in the flight deck.” Kylo says, completely ignoring your slightly shocked experience at seeing him without his helmet.

“That's what this is then?” You turn briefly to make eye contact with Hux before turning to Kylo with one arched brow, “I'm being scolded now?”

“You're insolent when given any orders,” he oaces before you while Hux stands behind you by the door, “You disobey at every given turn and you're resistant. Vexingly so.”

“How clever of you, it seems as though you'd only just discovered a key characteristic from a member of the resistance.” You say with a smirk, “Clever, Clever boy."

“It's that mouth of yours that's gonna get your head slain from your very shoulders.” Kylo advances you like a midnight storm and you fight to stand your ground.

“I have grown terribly bored of this place,” You say, “Perhaps even death might be more eventful then whatever you are, Kylo.”

Before Hux is able to make his escape Kylo grabs at your throat, encircling his hand around your skin like a vice until he is forcing you to look at Hux ahead of you.

"This is what you want?" He isn't speaking to you but to Hux, pushing your cheeks together in a painful display of humiliation. "This is what's been plaguing that mind of yours-"

"I've no time for this-"

The very last thing Hux is able to see before he leaves Kylo's quarters, is your frightened eyes and Kylo looming behind you. A mere mouse being imprisoned by a God.

You make the mistake of thinking that Hux's absence might soften Kylo's resolve, but your time as his captive should have let you know that there was nothing soft about this man. Nothing at all.

"You should be grateful, you know that?" His lips graze your head and you're suddenly hyper aware of his proximity.

You're hyper aware of the closed metal doors that were probably being guarded by a pair of heavily armed stormtroopers. There is no escaping the clutches of this monster behind you.

And yet; you still find yourself scoffing, "I should be grateful?" You ask, hoping to assimilate every shred of confidence you had left, "I should be grateful to be your prisoner-" you wince when his grip on your jaw tightens and he's wrenching your face until you're craning your neck backwards to face him.

Large, looming, and completely fucking livid.

"You should be grateful that you're still fucking breathing, you brat-"

And then, a very strange thing occurs.

Since the moment Kylo had wrangled you off your home planet, you had sworn to be nothing but defiant. In honour of everything you stood for, you would never let him see you weak and yet here you are, carelessly allowing the faintest of whimpers to slip through quivering lips.

The sound confuses Kylo initially. In fact, he cranes your head back further, not caring whether you were comfortable or not as he bends down, appearing to inspect your mouth for that peculiar sound further. He squeezes your cheeks lightly, prodding the round tissues of fat as if fervently trying to search for whatever button might allow for that little sound to spill from your lips again.

"How completely and utterly curious-"

"You're fucking hurting my neck-" the fire returns and with it, comes your will to wrench your face out of his grip. You're only able to get free because he lets you and you know this.

"What..." Kylo bends even lower towards you and you turn your head to face the blank wall ahead of you. Evading eye contact with this man was nothing if not crucial. "What was that sound you just made-"

"It appears as though hearing nothing but the cries of utter doom and damnation has defamiliarized you to the sound of pleasure, Ren-"

Your breath is wiped clean from your throat not even a second later when you steal a look downwards at a gloved hand interlocking itself around your throat once more. Seemingly his favourite place.

"All the praises that could fall from your mouth..." Kylo drawls before pressing himself firmly against your backside, "All that you could say to worship the hand that feeds you and you still choose to be insolent-"

You try to escape his death grip but he doesn't let you out this time around. All you can do is be thankful that he had the decency to allow you to breathe.

"That's all you fucking know how to do right," Kylo's lips are at your ear and your knees buckle. "Insolence. Insolence. Insolence." Your legs give out, but before you're able to topple to the ground in a puddle of your own lustful perversions, his other hand curls around your waist, keeping you firmly pressed against his front.

“Today's the day you fucking obey," he whispers, "Understand?"

"I-I-”

Kylo is not sure how he does it, or why he does it, or where he got the understanding to do it, but his hand makes its very slow descent from your collarbone, to the spot right above your pillowy breasts. Clad in nothing but your knee length tunic, a garment stitched with fibres indigenous to your homeplanet, you suddenly feel incredibly naked and incredibly exposed. What was once an act of rebellion, is now your undoing.

"There is a way to make you disobey isn't there?" You can hear him becoming excited. "Every cattle has their price. What's yours?" Before you're able to turn and possibly beg for some sort of mercy, he's already in there. The stuff Kylo sees digging around in your mind, is enough to have him staring off into hyperspace. His eyes are trained on nothing at all as he rapes your most memories and most private desires. All while drawing you impossibly closer, until his mouth was buried in your hair and his hand was closing around your left breast. You squirm underneath him until finally, he's released from your stupor.

You did not dare turn around to look at him, in fear of seeing his dark eyes dilated with enlightenment.

"How barbaric." He whispers. "That's what I have to do in order to get you to listen to me,"

"I-I don't know what you're-"

"Open your mouth." Before you're ever able to interject even a single word, Kylo's hand is digging into the skin of your jaw, "Do I have to do it for you- open your mouth-" He wrenches your mouth open and cranes your neck back once more.

"That's it," You're absolutely frightened to see the violence that has darkened those irises. This is the look that's shielded behind the mask during times of battle. This is that look no one got to see.

Yet here you were.

"You're so fucking filthy, you know that?" You're nodding before your brain is aware of it, "You're a filthy, perverted little creature," one by one, your inhibitions slipped away from you until you could feel yourself become completely and utterly dumb for him. Your mind becomes a tabula rasa as Kylo bends his heavy frame downwards, spitting directly into your open mouth. There it is. That whimper he wanted to hear so badly.

You're not even aware of his hand reaching around your front until he's parting your legs with determination. "Is this where you want me?" Your mouth hangs open and you look up at him glassy doe eyes as he cups your drenched heat. Kylo locks his full lips and presses his front impossibly closer to your backside. "This whole time I've needed to get you in line, and the answers been here this whole fucking time?" A gloved hand swipes your underwear to the side and the wind is completely knocked out of you when Kylo pushes his fingers in immediately. He fucks his fingers into you with zero restraint and zero preparation, and the roughness has your eyes nearly rolling to the back of your skull as you grow limp in his grip. Lucky for you he's so large, lucky for you he might as well be a stone wall behind you, letting you lean against him with your long legs spread wide for his absolute assault.

"Look at me." He says, holding you against him by your throat while his index and middle finger violate your soaking cunt. Despite his orders you're still a drunken, blundering mess with half lidded eyes, promising to keep you locked away in your pleasure.

"If you don't fucking look at me, I'll stop and you'll suffer." He squeezes your clit quite painfully, immediately bringing you out of hedonistic stupor-

"FUCK- WHAT THE FUCK-"

"Do you want me to stop?" He asks, with a note of cockiness that had your brows furrowing.

"Are you stupid?! Of course I don-" before the curse could even escape your mouth in its entirety, Kylo's blocking out your airways. You fight to scratch at his gloved grip around your throat but his grip is fucking metallic.

"Look at how docile you look when you're not running your mouth,"

Your insides were screaming for oxygen, yet your hips rut against his hand. Kylo slyly adds a third finger inside your slippery cunt. "What a whore," he whispers, causing you to fuck forward against his hand, nearly humping yourself to completion as the blood flow to your brain seems to stop completely. You need oxygen and you need to cum. You just don't know which you need more.

"You're nothing but fucking filth-"

Your mouth opens to let a moan escape but it never does, and Kylo watches your struggle with a pained expression of his own.

"F-Fuck, I've never seen anything so vile-"

You were slipping. Whether it was into unconsciousness or an orgasm you couldn't tell. "If you pass out I will fuck you," he whispers, "There's not fucking escaping me-"

And in that very moment, Kylo unlocks the invisible grip on your airways and suddenly you can breathe and cum. Almost immediately you're slipping into a violent, damn near supernatural orgasm that has you seeing every star in the known galaxy.

"F-FUCK- oh my-" You're rutting against his hand, tongue lolling out all while Kylo continues to fuck his fingers into your cunt.

"That's it," He whispers, "Cum for me, you useless fucking whore-" Every vile sliver of degradation causes a fresh wave of pleasure to roll through you until the first droplets of tears are rolling down your cheek.

"Don't fucking do that," he whispers, pulling you closer than ever, "Don't fucking do that unless you want me to fuck you right now-"

He watches the tears roll down your face and absolutely loses it. Now suddenly aware of his own cock aching in his pants.

"K-Kylo please-" You try to push his hand out of you but to no avail. "It's too much-"

But his eyes are shut, and your body is overcome by wave after wave of electrifying shivers. The pleasure quickly bleeds into the pain of being so heavily overstimulated but Kylo is lost in his own world now. He clutches you impossibly closer, mumering obscenities into your hair as he ruts against your ass and you fucking pray for it to be over. Your pussy is fucking spent and yet he's still keeping his hand there, as if driven by his own need to cum.

"You stupid fucking slut- look what you made me do-" He's rutting against your ass, eyes squeezed shut as his hips stutter, "F-Fuck-" the whimper that breaks his voice is utterly intoxicating and you find yourself slipping into another dry orgasm as Kylo pushes against you, cumming in his pants with various expletives falling from his pillowy lips. When your orgasm falls you beg him to let go of you and when he does, you topple to the floor.

Never in your life have you felt so weak. So spent. So utterly used.

Kylo does not spare you a glance when he turns around. "This is where you will reside from now on," he says with finality. Careful to let his voice relay how utterly broken he feels. Just as broken as you.

[justagirlwholikesadam]

Hard Ren

Porn Star! Kylo Ren x Fem! Reader

Summary: Hard Ren is known for not cumming during his scenes until now.

A/N: I'm biting on the bars of my enclose while i write this.

Warning: NSFW, spitting, choking, role playing, rough, happy ending, ladies we are porn stars too!

Word Count: 3.3K

Border Credit: @cafekitsune

Anyone who watches porn knows who Hard Ren is. 

Hard Ren is known to have stamina like a fucking animal. He fucks like one and he’s good at it but what he is worldly known for is he never cums when he fucks. When he does cum it’s only when he’s masturbating.

Yeah, a porn star who doesn’t cum when fucking other people. Hard Ren has done interviews about it. He jokes about it and tells them that his cock hasn’t found the right person yet. This sparks something with the female porn star community because they all want to make him cum. None of them ever succeeded. 

“Kylo.” The dark haired man looked up from his phone when his manager, Hux stopped the car. 

“We’re here.” Kylo follows Hux out of the car and into the studio to his dressing room. Kylo performs his usual preparation before filming. 200 pushup and crutches. He curls his 150 pounds dumbbells along with lifting his barbell while Hux tells him more about the person he’s going to fuck. Kylo was in the middle of a rep when he heard Hux mumbling the name of the porn star. 

“What’s her name again?” 

“She’s new, you probably haven’t heard of her but she has a fan base already. Not ugly like the last one” Hux told him while typing on his phone. 

Finishing his usual preparation and getting dressed with the clothes laid out for him, Hux walks with him to the set. Kylo was fixing the sleeves of his blue jean button down shirt. He goes into the mind set as a teacher, that was the script. He's done this multiple times, he plays the college professor and the girl plays the student looking for extra credit. 

His head shot up when he heard laughter. Director Phasma is standing next to a woman. Phasma is showing her the story board with a pleased look. When he saw you, he’s starstruck, since you were the one that he watches when he does his masturbating videos. He plays it cool, of course but the moment you give you a smile. His cock is already hard. His most viewed video of him masturbating was thanks to you. He came on his chest to the video of you on a bed with your legs spread and your cunt of full display. He liked your moans and how you pout while playing with yourself. 

“I like your work.” You tell him as Hux and Phasma speak on the set. You look up at the 6’3 dark haired man while playing with your fingers nervously. 

Excitement ran up and down your body at the sight of him. “I like yours too.” 

You smile at his words. He runs a hand through his hair with a chuckle. “Especially the one with you on the bed.” 

"There's a lot of me on the bed." You said jokingly and he laughs. "I like them all." 

You blush at his words. He had seen your work. When the camera was ready, you and him got into place. 

“Please, Professor Hard Ren. I need this extra credit. I won’t pass the semester.” You begged him as you walked towards him. Ren was leaning against the edge of the desk with his arms crossed around his chest. You played with the bottom button of his shirt

“There might be something you can do for me.” Ren said, wrapping his arm around you pulling you close to him. 

“I’ll do anything.” You whispered as he leaned down, his large hands pulling the dress up to your hips. 

“Anything?” He asks as he cups your ass, giving it a good and hard squeeze for the camera, making you moan. He pulls you close to his chest as he tugs the thong to the side. 

“Fuck.” You hear him whisper.

About to do what you do best, you start to tug on his belt. Ren leans back when he notices what you were doing. He helps you while you unzip the black slack and goes down on your knees in front of him. Your mouth drops open as you stare up at him as you pull the slacks down to his ankles. He’s in full commando, and his cock almost smacks you in the face if you haven’t caught it first. His cock was thick and pink, his fat head is begging to be licked. 

Ren groans at the sight of your little pink tongue licking his cock. He grips the edge of the desk when you spit on his cock and start to use your spit as lube to start jerking him off with both hands. He tries his best to not shut his eyes because he wants to see you. He wants to see the moment you put his fat cock inside that little mouth. 

He moans out loud when you start to suck his cock, gagging, his thick girth stretching your mouth. 

“Fuckk.” Ren moans when he starts to move his hips forward, he uses a hand to hold the back of your head. He feels his balls tighten up when he sees your eyes filling up with tears. His thighs are wet from the drool and spit. He can see the spit dripping off the corner of your mouth. 

“Yes, gonna give you a good grade. Keep sucking you teacher's cock.” He tells you as you bob your head up and down on his cock. He sees your pretty face start to turn red and he pulls you off of his cock. He grabs his cock and pats it against your cheek then trace your lips with the head of his cock. 

“Open your mouth, show me that fucking tongue.” You obey and he taps the head of his cock on your tongue. 

“You’re so fucking hot. You know that.” Ren leans down to take your arms. Helping you up, you were shocked when he cups your cheek, bringing your face up close to him. He kisses you while he gently pushes against the desk making you sit on the edge

You look at him with wide eyes when he pulls away from your lips. He takes his shoes off and removes his pants as well. For a moment you forget about the camera when he takes his shirt off. He looks so good on video but in person, this man was sculpted. You can see every beauty mark on his skin. Looking at his abs, you looked further down, passing the light happy trail, you can see a vein aiming down to his cock. It took all the strength in you to not throw yourself in the ground to lick it. His cock stood out, proud and hard. 

He gets near you, grabbing you by the chin and kisses you again. He makes you spread your legs, pushing the dress up. He lets the camera panel over at your pussy when he pushes the thong to the side. Running his thick fingers run up and down your slick slit.

You don’t even pay attention to the camera behind him. His thick fingers rub your clit making you moan as he kneels down in front of your cunt. You feel those thick fingers slide into you.

He’s a messy and fast eater when it comes to pussy, he knows it but right now. He takes his time, he sees your cunt so many times while he comes. He couldn’t believe you were right in front of him. Looking so pretty with legs spread and your pussy practically pulsing. He kisses your mound enjoying the scent of your musk. He grins at the sound of you gasp when his nose hits your clit. He presses his lips against your lips. Licking your slick, he gets hard by how good you taste. 

He grins against your cunt when moan loudly. Your moans are heavenly to him, it sounds real and not fake as the others. He feels your fingers through his hair as you gently push his face against your cunt. Ren is pumping himself as he licks your cunt, he savors your taste. He looks up when he hears you call for him. He feels his heart flip inside his ribcage when you look down at him. He whines when your hand on his hair goes down to cup his face. Ren doesn't let you speak, he quickly stands up from his knees to kiss you.

You look over his shoulder when he starts to kiss your neck. Phasma waves her hand at you, signaling you that it's fine you didn't have to say your line. You couldn’t do it even if you tried. Ren was taking control, removing your dress for you. 

“Prettiest fucking tits.” He says as he leans down to kiss your breast. You blush when he practically pulls the desk close to him so he can get near you. 

“I want to fuck you so bad.” He says as he looks at you, his hands grab a hold of your hips, spreading your legs open. 

“You can.” You told him looking up at him with a smirk, batting your eyelashes. 

“I’ll do anything for a good grade, Professor Ren.” You said as your hands grabbed his throbbing cock, slowly jerking him off, rubbing the tip of his cock with your thumb. 

“Jesus Christ.” Ren moans when you use the other hand to grasp his balls, pulling them softly. You watched as he stood still as you kept touching him, he threw his head back, you bit your bottom lip as you watched his tense up. 

“Come here.” He tells you, you gasped when he wrapped your legs around his waist. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he picks you up from the desk and walked over the couch on the other side of the office set. You hear him whisper close to your ear, he tells you to relax, he won’t drop you. 

The camera zooms on to your ass when Ren sits down on the couch, holding you tight on his lap. His big hands grasp your ass, pulling your cheeks apart showing your holes.

“Can I ride you, please?” You asked him and he grins, nodding as he leans back a bit. He smiles when he notices the excitement on your face. Quickly getting back to work, he groans as you spit on his cock, rubbing it up and down on his shaft. 

“Just like that.” He praised you when you rose up and gently sat on his cock. His eyes never left your face, he wanted to see that look on your face when his fat cock splits you open. He bites his bottom lip when he sees your face, that same face you give to the camera when your pussy is being stuffed.

He holds your hips when you start to bounce on his cock. He thrust upward making you cry out, he grins and does it again. You place a hand on his chest, making him stay in place but Ren being much bigger than you does it again making you whine. 

“Can’t take it? Huh? Can't take your professor's big cock?” Ren asks you. He chuckles when you nod, pushing yourself on his chest then sliding back down. He grabs your arms pulling into his chest as he grunts sliding further down on the couch so the camera can go under him. 

“Good girl.” He shouts as he started thrusting upward like crazy making you moan as he fucks you hard. Your ass bounces every time he thrusted up to you. Your poor pussy being stretched wide up, the camera zooms in to see Ren’s cock sliding in and out of your pussy. Your slick is running down his shaft to his balls. 

Your face is squished against his hard chest as he rams into you. He holds you down with one arm and the other, he brings it up to your face making him look up at you. 

His nose bumps with yours and you see him going in for a kiss. 

“You feel so good.” You whispered against his lips then kiss him. You moan when his hand grips your hair making you wince when he pulls it. 

He shakes his head, “No, you do.” He licks his lips as he continues with his thrusts. He hears you moan loudly, it sounds so soft exactly like the video he uses of you. 

“Rub your pussy for me.” He doesn’t wait for you to respond. You squeal when he grabs you and pushes himself up. He lifts you and drops you on your back. The camera man moves standing behind him, zooming into your face. 

Spreading your legs wide, you’re smiling at Ren as he jerks himself off. His eyes are wide as he stares at you. He gets turned on even more by how much you're enjoying yourself, looking so pretty rubbing your cunt in front of him. You bring your knees to your chest as close as you can. Your arms go under your knees and you rub your clit, giving it soft smack making you moan. 

Your fingers don't feel as good as his, you finger yourself while looking at him. He’s staring at your cunt then back at your face. You stick your tongue out at him as you give your cunt another slap making him groan. 

You’re giddy with excitement when he comes over to you, he man handles you pushing your knees further back and lowers himself. You squeal when he smacks the head of his cock on your cunt. 

“How bad do you want an A+?” He asks you, raising a brow at you. 

“Really bad, professor. I want it. Please.” You pouted at him. 

You know he does it on purpose, he just looks down at you with a smug look on his face as he slides his cock up and down your slit painfully slowly. You huff at him and grab his cock, surprising him. 

“I want that A+, sir!” You cry out pushing his cock at your entrance. You look at him with a pleading look and Ren thinks he just died and gone to heaven. 

You keep on surprising him, taking control like that, grabbing his cock like you own it. Fuck, you practically did already. All of his masturbation videos ended with him cumming so much because he was looking at your videos. Of course the viewers didn’t know that, the cameras were always aiming at him, at his lower half. 

“I’ll give you that A. Imma fucking give it to you.” You cry out when he thrusts into your cunt in one harsh thrust. Ren doesn’t pay attention to the camera under him, all he can stare is your face, your tits bouncing by his harsh thrusts. You were losing your grip under the your legs, trying your best to keep them to your chest. 

Ren wants to feel you cum, he wants you to cum on his cock. What a dream would that he thinks to himself as he brings a hand to your clit, rubbing your slick over it. He’s rough with it, making you grin as you shut your eyes with pleasure. 

“Chock me.” You cry to him as you open your eyes to stare up at him. 

“You like that?” You nod quickly as he complies to your request. Ren groans loudly when he feels you clench around him when he grabs a hold of your neck, he can feel your heartbeat and it just makes him goes faster. 

“Oh-h-h fuck! Shit!” Ren shouts he holds the couch with one hand as he goes balls deep in you. He feels you holding his arm, his grip around your neck tighten and he throws his head back when he feels you cum. 

You are crying his name and that was it for him. It broke him completely. 

“Can-can I cum in you?” He shouts as he looks back at you. You’re staring up at him with teary eyes still feeling the hard orgasm you just had. 

“Yes.” You said meekly, he removes his hand from your neck and holds your chin. Keeping your head in place, staring up at him as he thrust into your sloppy pussy. 

In the corner of your eye, you see the director and the crew staring at both of you with wide eyes as Ren groans loudly. You can’t help but whine when he does one last harsh thrust. He moves the couch and he keeps you in place as he fills your womb with his hot milky cum. 

“F-fuck.” Ren moans as he releases your chin and slouches a bit. He cups your face as he tries to catch his breath. His thumb runs over your bottom lip and you do something that you have been craving to do since you saw his hands. Grabbing a hold of his wrist you stick his thumb in your mouth, sucking it as you stare up at him. 

He feels his knees go weak and he pulls away and sits down next to you with a grunt. He has his head throw back over the couch as he sits there, with his limp cock. 

Ren hears the camera man tell you to keep your knees to your chest. Phasma praises you and he opens his eyes to see you. You’re playing with his cum, rubbing his cum all over your cunt and mound. 

“Fuck yeah.” A crew member whispers when you scoop Ren’s cum dripping from your fucked hole up to your lips. You made a moaning sound as you tasted it, licking your lips seductively as the camera pans over to your face.

You walk out of the shower, thanking god that Phasma was a saint when it came to her workers. She had a shower installed in the dressing rooms. You really didn’t want to go home with cum dripping out of you. Your manager had applaud to you and said Hard Ren just came because of you. 

Feeling amazing after the hot shower, you got dressed with the extra clothes your manager packed for you. Fixing your hair, you grabbed your phone, looking at the recent messages from your manager. You frowned because she had sent you a message saying that she was waiting for you in the parking lot then a few seconds later. She sent you a message saying there’s a surprise for you in the parking lot. 

You didn’t think much of it. You were still tired from having sex and you were starving. You just thought she was being like this because of the accomplishment you just did.

You walked to the exit still thinking about him, Ren. He was just as handsome in his videos and his cock was something to die for. You were feeling pretty good for making him cum. He looked so fucking hot cumming. 

Pushing the door open you walked to the parking lot and frowned when you saw your manager wasn’t there. 

“Hey.” You looked over your shoulder and saw Ren leaning against the building with a cigarette in his mouth. He’s wearing different clothes as well, dark jeans with boots and a graphic tee. He had a leather jacket on and his hair was damp. 

“Hi.” You answered back and he gave you a soft smile. 

“You hungry?” He asks, throwing the cigarette on the ground after blowing a puff of smoke. 

“Starving.” You tell him as he walks towards you. He bites his bottom lip and for a moment he looks a bit shy. 

“Me too. I know a place. Wanna come with me?” You nod at him and give him a smile. You start walking with him out of the parking lot when he tells you his first name, Kylo. 

[little-diable]

Kinktober 8 - Kylo Ren

Finally time for the next Kinktober drabble! Please like and reblog if you enjoyed reading this, your comments keep us writers motivated. Enjoy my loves. xxx

🖤Hand kink + Branding 🖤

Warnings: 18+, smut, use of his powers, hand kink, branding her with the force, oral (m)

Pairing: Kylo Ren x fem!reader (700 words)

Kinktober 2024 Masterlist

Header by the best @theanythingbuthuman

The words rolling off his tongue blurred past her without (y/n) getting the slightest chance to pick up on them. Her eyes were focused on his gloved hands, making his fingers appear even longer, reminding her of just last week when he had fucked her with his hand wrapped around her throat. 

It didn’t take long for Kylo to notice that she wasn’t focusing, not listening to the scolding words he spoke. He was fuelled by his anger, and had been forced to spend the last hour listening to Hux’s useless rambling, all while thinking of the way (y/n) had teased him just this morning. She had played a dangerous game, whining about him barely spending any time with her, followed by the quiet threat that she’d soon turn to others to get her fill.

Lies, nothing but lies, and yet they had done their job, pushing Kylo into waves of hot, burning anger.

“Are my hands that distracting? Are you already so far gone you can’t even listen to what your husband tells you?” His raspy words momentarily ripped her out of her trance, forgetting the way she had just imagined his hand between her thighs, pushing her towards the edge like she needed him to. 

Without getting another chance to speak up, (y/n) found herself pushed to her knees by the force, wide eyes staring up at her husband. She watched his long fingers fumble with his belt, a sight that shot excitement through (y/n), parting her lips in anticipation. There was something about being used by him she loved more than she’d ever be able to describe, getting lost in the raspy sounds rumbling through Kylo while power flushed through her veins - power rooting in the knowledge that she was the one making him feel like that. 

Kylo’s dark eyes stared down at her, letting his gaze burn through her skin as he parted her lips further with the tip of his hardening cock. A loud groan left him, urged on by the sensation of (y/n)’s tongue moving just like he had taught her to. His gloved hand rested on the back of her head, a possessive grasp that made her body tingle in excitement. But all sensations were drowned out the second she felt the invisible touch resting on the back of her neck. 

“We need to remind you of who you have to listen to, a mark that won’t ever fade again.” Tears instantly welled up in her eyes as the invisible touch grew hotter by the second, and yet she still found enjoyment in it. Kylo kept fucking her mouth, forcing his cock further down her throat while saliva dripped from her chin, making a mess. 

The burning sensation on the back of her neck lingered, leaving her torn between pain and curiosity, wondering what he had branded her with. His cock twitched in her mouth, forcing her to bob her head faster, supported by her hands that took care of the parts she couldn’t reach with her mouth. 

“You’ve always known how to drive me insane with that mouth of yours.” A hum rumbled through (y/n), glassy eyes staring up at Kylo to watch him come undone. The taste of his cum lingered on her tongue, a welcomed taste she was all too used to by now, reminding her of all those years they’ve been together. 

Wordlessly, he helped her back to her feet, watching her walk towards the bathroom to look at the red mark he had left behind, a simple “KR”. Her eyes met his dark ones in the bathroom mirror, forcing her to turn back towards him, and with his hand finding (y/n)'s throat again, Kylo pulled her in for another teeth clashing kiss.

[bensoloslover]

Stolen Moment

Kylo Ren x Fem! Reader.

Word Count: 1,771.

Warning: Suggested Nudity, Mild Kidnappings, Nothing Crazy.

*Reader and Kylo have an established relationship. Reader is kidnapped and has a small meeting with an old friend.

Masterlsit

“Ky” Her voice felt shy as she spoke, which was contrasting to the normally warm and easy going personality she carried that he loved so much.

“Yes, (Y/N/N)?” She was laid on his chest, (Y/H/C) down for once and body nearly bare against his. They spent many nights like this. Ever since their days learning under his uncle, how he hated that man for everything, but her. He would thank him for the chance of meeting her.

“Does something feel…” the pause had the hair on his arms sticking up. “Out of place to you? Like something is going to happen? Something almost strange feeling?” She looked up at him now, eyes showing a fear he wished she didn't have to endure.

(Y/N) was force sensitive, in her own way. She had a harder time connecting with the physical side of things, but her connection to the force itself? He envied it. It spoke to her in ways that sounded almost surreal, even to a powerful force user like himself. Where he could bend the force to his will, move through peoples mind, bend will. She could get into the soul of the universe, tell stories of things that haven't even happened yet. Understand the world in a way one could only dream.

“I can have the Knights stand guard of you tomorrow, and you may even shadow me throughout the day if you’d like?” They had been at war with the rebellion for sometime now. He knew she had no interest in the fight, she’d made that very clear, but he knew she'd feel safer by his side as he went about his day then to be apart with these feelings.

“I don't know yet if it's that serious, I can't really get a grasp on what is going to happen. Just. Something.” She laid back down to his chest.

“Well maybe some sleep will clear your vision, after you meditate tomorrow morning come find me and we can spend the morning tomorrow. I only have a few meetings before training.” She hummed her reply, he knew she was in agreement, she came to find him almost every morning once she'd gotten through her routines.

“Goodnight my love.” Her voice was more velvety now, he knew she'd sleep soon, and he'd have the knights guard her till she woke.

—

When Kylo woke up his morning went as usual. Tuck (Y/N) back to bed, shower and change into his usual attire, meditate for a few minutes in his study, head to the bridge to meet Hux and start his day. Nothing seemed off yet. Rebels were still out of their reach currently, so nothing but trying to track them down was really important at the moment. Rey and his mother had been blocking any trace of them from him for weeks now.

They're here. They're on the ship, Ky.

He heard it loud and clear, his body running frigid at the panic in her tone. He could always feel her, she was like a constant warm aura around him, no matter the distance, and suddenly everything had run cold.

“Man the ships, all gun up. The rebels are on the ship.” He heard Hux start shouting commands as stormtroopers left and right started marching in groups around the ship in an instant. He ran down the halls as he made his way back to their living quarters. How they had even gotten on the ship he couldn't phantom.

Kylo Help. The Jedi. She’s here.

For the second time that day dread filled his core. Not her. Not now..

I’m on my way (Y/N)

His footsteps sped up, he was running now, sliding through turns and ripping the doors open with the force as he attempted to reach their quarters. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. He got on the elevator to their floor, pacing the small room when it happened.

He felt nothing. For the first time since the first moment they met, he felt nothing of her presence. The elevator started to creak and groan as the force around him began to swell with his anger.

As the doors exploded open he ran down the hall. The knights he left to protect her laid on the ground, leading up to the room. He blew the doors straight through to the back wall tearing off his helmet as he looked for the worst imaginable. Their bed was made. A still hot cup of tea sat by her meditation seat in their living room. The breakfast cart still set up neatly by the dining room table, untouched.

But (Y/N)? Nowhere to be found. He ripped through every room twice. Then he broke. He felt his anger explode through the room. Felt the ship tremble as he screamed and slammed his helmet into every thing within arms reach.

They’d taken the one person on the ship he would break without, and they knew it.

—

(Y/N) remembered waking in a cold sweat. She remembered trying to get her morning started as normal.She remembered the fighting outside that broke her from her meditation. The rebels burst into her room. Her fear as she begged Kylo for help, though for the first time she couldn't feel if he was answering her or not. The silence. Cold.

Now she was here, wherever that was exactly. She couldn't feel Kylo. She couldn't remember how she had ended up. There was nothing in the room around her and there was no way she could escape the ropes bounding her to the chair she was in.

“You’ve grown into a marvelous young woman, (Y/N).” Chills ran up her neck. She could pick that voice in a chorus of millions.

“Mrs. Solo.” She felt it now, the force moving back through her. Her mother in law’s presence. Leia had always been warm, her aura like a blanket to whoever could feel it. She was strong, and easy to be around. She emerged from the shadows, pulling a chair with her to sit across from (Y/N).

“Oh no, we never married.” Her chuckle reminded her of her years at the Jedi Temple, she could never dislike Leia, no matter how much Kylo resented his mother, she was always a kind soul. “I'm still Organa, or Skywalker if you please, darling. Only Ben carries Han’s name.”

“Ben goes by Kylo Ren now.” Leia rolled her eyes at the announcement. As if she had just been told her son just broke another plate.

“Ah yes, Kylo Ren. I find it funny he chose a name that rhymes with Ben. Since he clearly hated the name so much.” She sipped on a cup of warm tea while speaking. “How is he?”

Her question was genuine, (Y/N) could feel it. She could feel him again, suddenly. Hot. Red hot with anger. Then he was gone, as quick as he was there. Cold again. She knew it had something to do with Leia and Rey, her lack of his connection with him. They were good at blocking him out, keeping their rebels safe at all cost.

“He’s quite angry right now.” She felt the ropes drop from her arms. The force.

“You just gave him my location, you do know that.” (Y/N) rolled her shoulders back. Neck cracking from the uncomfortable position she had been held in.

“I'd rather him come get you. You're more of a hazard to keep around, he’d mount every one of my soldiers head’s on his saber before he let a single hair on your head be harmed.” Leia chuckled. She knew her son had fancied (Y/N) since the day she dropped him off with Luke. She was beautiful. “I told them not to take you originally. These youths are far too ambitious though, not listening to their elders.”

“Am I a mother in law yet, or has he not made you empress of the new empire yet?” This time it was (Y/N)’s turn to laugh, she looked at the black kyber crystal on her ring finger.

“Engaged, not yet married. Said he'd like to have squashed out your rebales before we sat down to plan our future.” She held up her hand to show her the ring, Leia taking it into her own.

“What a beautiful kyber crystal, he must have looked far and wide for such a rare color.” She turned her hand to watch it sparkle.

“General Leia” a voice spoke up from behind the two. A man with curly brown hair and a warm complexion walked into (Y/N)’s eyeline. He was nervous, she could feel it. He looked at her then back to Leia, a allure of confidence she knew he didn't possess in his voice. “Everyone is either up in the air ready to go or on their way. Just us left.”

“I'll be ready in one moment Poe, let me have one more moment with my daughter.” (Y/N)’s heart warmed at the title. She knew Leia didn't agree with Kylo’s ambitions, neither did she honestly, but she knew she'd never be anywhere but his side.

“Tell my son I love him for me. No matter what.” Leia squeezed her hand. “It's time for us to leave before Kylo shish kebabs us. There's tea and some crackers on the table for you dear. I know you'll feel him as soon as we leave so no need to give you a eta I'm sure.”

“Thank you, please be safe.” (Y/N) leaned over and hugged her, taking in the warmth of her hold. She felt like Ben in a way, like mother like son she supposed.

“You too dear.” With that Leia walked out. (Y/N) felt no need to follow her. She heard her spacecraft leave the atmosphere as she sat and took in her empty surroundings. Standing up she walked to the table and took a bite of one of the sweet crackers Leia had left her. Taking her tea out the door.

She felt him then. He filled back into the coldness she felt all morning. Their connection was unblocked. She could tell he was close. She could feel the force around her again.

(Y/N) ? Can you hear me? Are you okay? You're calm. Are the rebels gone?

Yes love, I’m fine.

I’m on my way. I saw your location for a moment. Enough time to find you.

I know. I’m waiting.

She took a sip of her tea and chuckled, banthas milk and some sugar, just like how Ben likes it.

----

Just some Kylo Ren/ Ben Solo brain rot I've been thinking about.

[thedarkcoven]

I do plan on writing this for Hux 🥰 peas be patient my lovelies!! Gonna get my requests done first and gonna do some ideas later

-Thedarkcoven

General Hux Idea

Y/N (Reader) has been one of Armitage’s underlings for the past two years. One day they leave a gift on his desk with a note saying “Armitage… I know it may seem the world hates you and no one cares about you but I just want you to know that I do. I do not care if you try to push me away because I won’t let you. I see the sad look in your eyes and knows how your heart feels empty and alone but I want to show you the world isn’t always cruel. Meet me at the Cantina in the back by 12am. Make sure no one followed you. -Y/F/I” When Hux arrives he sits by the cloaked figure after ordering a drink and sits there quietly before sliding the letter over to them. “Why?” He asks.  “Because you could use a friend and no one shows you the respect you deserve. Even Kylo doesn’t show you the respect you deserve even though Snoke treats him the exact same way.” You state as you slide your hood off.  Hux swallows as he stares at you. His heart feels tight as his gloved fingers twitch as he hesitates before gripping your wrist softly.  “If this is some cruel joke then I will ahve your head on a pike-.” You cut him off by pressing your lips to his, leaving him wide eyed and red flooding onto his pale cheeks and the tips of his ears. 

[leviathanspain]

do you think i could request a kylo ren x reader smut, please? whatever happens is up to you but something filthy would be great, very dominant kylo please <3

bonus points if the reader is a lil bit of a brat and forced into submission (only if you're comfy with it).

(p.s. no rush. take your time <3)

spit it out

kylo ren x reader

synopsis: your disobedience earns you a punishment

his body weight was crushing you with every thrust. you stifled a moan as he bottomed out, his balls smacking against your ass as you struggled to breathe. you gripped at the sheets under you and heaved for a breathe, but kylo was relentless. he had been controlling your breathes, using the force to choke you as he wanted.

you had cum at least twice already, reluctantly as you refused to give him the satisfaction. but kylo knew what you were trying to do, pissing him off was only hurting you more.

he gripped your legs, shuddering as you squeezed your cunt around his length. “fuck-“ he grunted, and continued to drill into you.

you looked at him, teeth gnashing as he moved to grab at your jaw. he held you tightly, “cum. cum!” he yelled, but your refusal was evident.

you let your eyes roll back into your head as you ignored the knot in your belly. he felt so fucking good inside of you, you wanted to cum, wanted to feel him inside of you while you skyrocketed into pleasure, but you refused.

kylo had overlooked you for a mission, instead letting a group of young stormtroopers go instead. you had been unable to contain your anger and yelled at him in front of his crew, in front of general hux. the embarrassment alone had earned you a spanking. but your attitude had earned you a place under him, struggling to breathe and stuffed with cum.

he smacked the flesh of your ass for encouragement, “fucking cum!” his words echoed in your mind and you contemplated letting go, giving him what he wanted. but kylo did not give you what you wanted, and refused to explain himself to you.

you ignored him and felt the air constrict in your lungs, “the stormtroopers i sent will die. it’s a deadly mission, you think i wanted you on that?” he looked down at you, breathing heavily as his hand moved down to your clit.

he thrusted at an angle, focusing the force on choking you, “you didn’t think about that, you dumb fucking baby.” he insulted you and smacked your ass again.

you felt the pressure release off your throat and you heaved for a breath. you felt tears prick at your eyes as his hand brought you to your orgasm. as much as you wanted to keep being stubborn and upset, there was truth in his words. of course he would not let you die, and you were dumb to think he would.

you reached out to grip his arm, moaning loudly as he made you cum.

kylo settled back for a moment, watching you shudder as the pleasure washed over you. as your defeat lingered, kylo got on top of you again, “we are not done.” he whispered, thrusting into you suddenly.

[starlightsearches]

Hi Star! Huge congratulations on your 2k milestone - it is so well deserved!!

Could I possibly get "Let's Hear it for the Boy" with our beloved ginger general?

Thank you so much and congrats again!!

Drunk / In Love

Track 3: Let's Hear It for the Boy by Deniece Williams - Give me a character and I'll write a short blurb or headcanons on how they would want you to show them that you love them. 

General Hux x F! Reader / 📼 ✨ mixtape milestone ✨ 📼

Thanks for the request, my love! Sorry it took me so long!

The idiots from these two stories are back again. Sorry I'm obsessed with them (I'm not sorry at all). Warnings for some minor sexual content and weird consent issues!

Phasma said you were drunk.

What she failed to mention was how—how drunk you were, or how you ended up that way. It was only supposed to be a friendly dinner when Hux first suggested it (and didn't stop suggesting it until Phasma finally gave in).

He thought if you made connections here—even just one—that it might make you more comfortable being with him on this ship, and so far from anything familiar.

Although this might be too familiar.

He reaches the door to Phasma's quarters and they glide open automatically, programmed to recognize his approach. He sees Phasma seated at the table, out of uniform, a smirk playing on her wine-stained mouth.

Armitage is not prepared for the dark flash in his peripherals, or the arms around his neck.

Your embrace frightens him, and that alone is enough to leave him feeling hot, stomach swimming, even when he recognizes your touch on instinct. It has him weak at the knees, just this, has his heart in his throat as all the alarm and panic well up inside him, threatening to spill out.

Then your lips meet his. 

There's been a handful of almost-affectionate moments shared between you. The brush of your hand as you wished him goodbye one morning. A kiss on the cheek that missed its target, landing at the edge of his lips.

But nothing like this.

Hux can feel your mouth shift against his, lips turning up at the corners, and the little laugh that passes through them—maybe at the way his hands hang limply at his sides, or the crop of perspiration blooming at his collar from the warmth of your skin, the smell of you. He can't make himself kiss you back, although he wants to.

He really, really wants to.

There's no malice in your eyes when you pull away—Armitage doesn't think you're capable of malice. You smile at him sweetly, taking his hands in both of yours.

"I missed you," you tell him, each word bleeding into the next, eyes half-lidded and hazy from whatever you'd been drinking, "did you miss me?"

"I- uh, yes," he answers—unavoidably honest—his eyes flitting towards Phasma, who's so pleased with herself it practically drips from her, hanging heavier on her shoulders than the armour she usually wears.

A hot anger floods through his stomach, spiked with acrid shame. He doesn’t need any witnesses to his inept attempts at marriage.

Your smile widens, every facet of you bursting with delight knowing that he’s missed you in the hours since you last spoke his name, and then he’s back in your embrace, the sound of sweet laughter in his ear. 

He reaches out for something to brace himself on, and finds nothing. It takes everything in him to keep standing. 

Armitage peels your arms from around his neck, putting a desperate inch of distance between himself and the press of your body. 

"Why don't we let the captain get some rest?" he asks.

Your enthusiasm at the suggestion turns his stomach into knots.

He's able to usher you through the empty halls at a speed just short of a jog, one hand at your waist to keep you from stumbling, and the other wrapped firmly around your wrist to stop any further attempts at touching him.

And, though he can’t puzzle it out just yet—with the warmth of you still against him—he knows something is wrong with you. Something that wine alone could not bring on.

Armitage knows you don’t want him. Not like this. 

Yet you practically drag him through the doors of your quarters, mouth planted against his before the mechanical lock whirs into place. 

All the desire in him makes him sick—feverish and weak. His body shudders against yours, nerves trying to break through skin at the gentleness of your touch.

“Armitage,” you whine, pouty in a way he’s never heard before—always so polite and obliging when you’re sober, “kiss me back.”

He couldn’t refuse you, even if he wanted to, even though he knows it would be better for both of you—knows the way this memory will torture him endlessly, until the moment he dies. Maybe long after that. 

But still, he cups your face in shaking hands, and presses his uncertain lips to yours.

And it’s nothing like all the times he’s thought about this—about taking you, feeling the warmth of your breath mingling with his own, pulling you tight against him with his arm at your waist and kissing, kissing, kissing you, until he tires of the feeling, until he rids himself of all his hideous need to be loved and to be wanted. 

It’s nothing like he imagined because he’s terrified. Because he can’t manage to move the ways he wants to, tripping over his feet when you stumble deeper into his chambers. Because his stomach roils at the feel of your tongue against his stubbornly closed mouth, and his arms shake with the need to move, but his hands stay where he placed them, holding hard enough to bruise, pulling you closer with enough force that part of him wonders if he’s hurting you. 

And still, your mouth on his, your wandering, eager hands. 

The room spins; Armitage’s reason leaves him when his feet lift from the floor, your body underneath him, and below that the cushion of his bed molding you together.

Still kissing. Still you. Your hand, guiding his down the thrumming pulse of your neck, lower. Lower.

Armitage is on the other side of the bed before the thought of how wrong what he has done truly registers, his feet planted and one hand pushing back the fallen strands of his hair.

 “Armitage?”

He curses the day you learned his name, curses the ill, vile part of him that wants to go back. 

He clears his throat and finds it doesn’t steady him at all. 

“You- you should get some rest, I think.”

Your movements are clumsy as you crawl to him on your knees, fighting against the thick bedspread and the fabric of your skirt. There’s a little huff on your lips when you reach him, eyes big and wide and brimming with glistening tears. 

“Why don’t you want me?” you whisper, and tears well up to their breaking point, slipping down your cheeks.

Fuck. He wants to touch you, and knows it’s a terrible idea, palms aching beneath the leather he wears and hates—now more than ever when it keeps him from you. His hand reaches out against his will, hovering just out of reach of your skin and the tears he can’t manage to wipe away because, once again, he is the cause of all your suffering. 

 “You’re- you’re drunk, darling. You’ll feel better if you just-”

“No,” you tell him, pushing his hand away with your own, “why don’t you want me ever?”

Oh, gods. Armitage recoils like you’ve slapped him, the sting of those words and what they mean destroying everything—every moment he’s agonized over since he first saw you and knew you had to be his. 

“You . . . you can’t possibly believe that.” 

You nod your head, fists curled at your sides petulantly, and your stubbornness would make him laugh, if it weren’t so sad.

“I do,” he whispers, then swallows, reaching for your hand. You let him take it. It gives him something to look at, watching your elegant fingers intertwine with his. “I do, but I—”

How much of this will you remember? Even now, the idea of revealing this soft, vulnerable part of him strikes fear into his very core, has him wishing he could run, wishing he could escape the way your eyes flay him wide open.

Your hand against his chest, he can feel his own heartbeat meet the shapes of your fingertips, molding to you. Armitage meets your gaze, and as frightening as it is, there’s no part of him that could deny how deeply he craves it.

“Please forgive me,” he stutters, and there aren't words for him to explain everything he needs to, just the truth. “I am—oh, gods—I am a ruinous man.” 

He watches you, the muscles working in your jaw, the way your brows pull together, examining him, weighing the assessment of himself that he’s offered to you. 

“No,” you tell him, “no you’re not.”

He thinks you might kiss him again, as close as you are. Close enough for him to count each of your lashes, map the constellations you’ve hidden in your eyes. 

You drop to the mattress instead, and the look you give him has him holding back a laugh, the mix of stubbornness and grudging deference that has Armitage wondering how hard it’s been for you to play at obedience in your union.

“You should change,” he tells you, just resting on the edge of the bed, “you’ll be more comfortable.”

It’s easier to talk to you when you’re like this. It has Armitage feeling like he’s the one intoxicated, and he is, in a way. Because what if this is your most honest self? 

He didn’t think you could make him love you any deeper, but you’ve managed. 

“Don’t care,” you mumble into the pillows, trying to brush him away with a waving hand. He takes it in his own.

“You’ll ruin your dress.” 

There’s a look of intense focus on your face, and he wonders if you’ll refuse again. Maybe you don’t care about the dress either, although Armitage would be disappointed. It’s one of his favorites from your incredibly extensive wardrobe—a beautiful black and cream confection that always catches his eye.

But you shift instead, turning to look up at him. “Kiss me.”

Stars, not again. Not now, when the weakest parts of him are so palpable. “I- I don’t-”

You flop into a sitting position, hold a single finger up between your faces.

“One kiss,” you concede, “okay?”

He nods, despite himself. You wait patiently for his approach, still and hardly breathing through your parted lips as he slides closer. Armitage keeps his eyes open, and so do you, heavy as they are, watching the distance between your faces fade into nothing.

It’s not like the other times he’s kissed you, although all but one had happened only a few moments ago. You let him set the pace, his lips just barely brushing your own, a sigh bubbling up from deep inside his lungs. He can only offer a little more pressure before he’s lightheaded again, little bursts of light dancing across his vision.

He pulls back from what could hardly be called a kiss, and waits for your disappointment, for your insistence that he try again, that there must be something more, or better, that he’s kept from you. 

Armitage doesn’t want you to know that there’s nothing else to hope for. 

You don’t say a word about it though. Just flop your arms out in front of you, waiting, satisfied in your demands.

“Help me.”

And it passes like that, with more bribes in the form of barely-there presses of his lips to yours—a kiss for you to raise your arms as he slips something soft and oversized over your head, a kiss for you to clumsily remove the dress from underneath. A kiss to get you to leave him for a moment while he changed into his own night clothes after you’d begged and begged for him to spend the night beside you, and a kiss upon his return.

It feels like a lifetime of kisses to Armitage. He doesn’t know what that number would be for anyone else, but you’ve certainly exceeded it for him. He could die in his sleep tonight and have more than he ever deserved. 

And now you’re curled up beside him a hand at his waist, your head on his chest. Armitage breathes, but only barely, hoping he won’t wake you. 

The tension drains from him, his body the closest it’s been to relaxed in ages. He wonders if he should ask Phasma to invite you to dinner again.

He hopes the next time he kisses you, you'll be sober enough to remember it.

[slashersgostabbystabstab]

What's the whole "Hux x Reader with Pre-Entity flashbacks and Unrequited love from Gabriel" about? I would like to know what you've got in mind.

Ah!

So basically it's this idea I've had for a pretty long while(but I've been so distracted by these Xenomorph writings ^^') in which the reader knew Gabriel and Hux before Gabriel's crew was sent out to Dvarka

Obviously Hux was not sentient then but the reader was a bit affectionate with him, meanwhile Gabriel is a friend of theirs who has harbored some secret feelings for them

The reader is eventually sent to the Entity's realm where they find the pair; they're very happy to see Gabriel alive and well but are shocked to see what has become of their favorite Hux unit who actually remembers them very well

While the reader and Gabriel catch up, the Singularity is not very happy with Gabriel taking all of the attention away...but funny enough, the reader of course has more affections for Hux than Gabriel

[noiriarti]

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!!

[girl-next-door-writes]

I Miss You

Characters: Armitage Hux x reader

Summary: In the cold emptiness of space, you found warmth in General Hux’s rare vulnerability. As his walls falter and darkness encroaches, your bond deepens but grows uncertain. Now, you cling to hope, striving to be the one exception to his solitude amidst the silence of the stars.

Word Count: 1326 words

Prompt: I Miss You – Blink 182

A/N: This is one for the wonderful @caplanbuckybarnes for the decades challenge, for which I have taken a million prompts and am slowly getting through them.

The galaxy felt unbearably quiet tonight, as if the void of space was doing its best to swallow the silence. The distant hum of the Finalizer’s engines served as a constant reminder of the cold, unyielding world you had chosen when you joined the First Order. It had never been an easy path, and it certainly wasn’t one made for finding warmth or comfort. Yet somehow, against all odds, you found it in possibly the least likely person of all.

General Armitage Hux had always been an enigma, a man who wore the mask of precision and control as if it was a second skin. His eyes were often icy, and his words even colder. Yet, in rare moments when the facade slipped, you had seen the rawness behind his exterior, a vulnerability that he desperately tried to hide. That was what had drawn you in, what kept you up late, lingering in his quarters or in the control room long after your duties ended.

You leaned against the window of his quarters, staring out into the endless black of hyperspace. The stars blurred into thin lines, rushing past you as the ship cut through space. But your thoughts were elsewhere, pulled back to the moment you first saw him crack—just a little.

It was a routine debriefing that turned into a heated argument. Your opinions on a tactical matter clashed, his temper flaring as he berated you for questioning his judgment, the audacity of you as a lower ranking officer something that needed to be squashed. But then, for just a moment, his voice had faltered. A flicker of something haunted crossed his features, and you had instinctively reached out, placing a hand on his arm. The touch had lingered longer than it should have, and though, after the initial shock had worn off, he had turned away and you saw his resolve crumble ever so slightly. That was when everything changed.

The closeness that developed wasn’t intentional; it felt more like a gradual unravelling. The walls Hux kept around himself slowly began to lower, bit by bit, until you found yourself in a strange kind of intimacy with the man who had once been nothing more than a superior officer. It was in the late hours of the night, when no one else was around, that he’d allow himself to be softer—when he’d speak quietly about his ambitions, his bitterness, and the loneliness that seemed to follow him like a shadow.

Yet here you were now, standing alone, the emptiness in the room mirroring the emptiness in your chest. The past few weeks had been different. He had been distant, colder than usual, as if retreating back into his shell. It wasn’t anger, at least not towards you; it was something darker, like a slow spreading toxicity, something that felt like a wall coming back up, shutting you out. You hadn’t spoken about it, afraid that if you pushed too hard, it would drive him away completely. But you couldn't ignore the feeling that you were losing him, or perhaps that you had never truly had him at all.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and crossed the room to sit on the edge of the bed, where a data pad lay discarded. The screen showed Hux's latest report—cold and impersonal, like everything else these days. But then, as you glanced to the side, you saw something out of place: a crumpled piece of paper on the floor beside his desk. You hadn’t meant to invade his privacy, but it pulled you in like a magnet.

Smoothing out the paper against the desk, your fingertips brushed over the indentations of his handwriting. The note, written in his neat but hurried script, sent a shiver through you. It was a confession, quiet and resigned.

'I cannot sleep. This sick, strange darkness seeps into my bones, haunting me, taunting me. I think that maybe I was designed to be alone.'

These were thoughts meant to be kept private, a glimpse into the depths of his despair. You couldn’t tell if he’d written them as a reminder to himself or as a desperate attempt to exorcise the truth he feared most—that for all his power, for all his carefully crafted control, Hux was losing a battle against the loneliness that clawed at him from within, your heart ached at the thought. You hadn’t been there to cure his loneliness, nor did you believe you could. But you had hoped to be an exception to the solitude, a small spark of warmth in the otherwise cold existence he led. If he truly believed himself destined to be alone, where did that leave you?

The sound of the door hissing open startled you out of your thoughts. Hux entered, his expression stoic as always, but there was something different in his eyes—something wary, as if he had been caught off guard seeing you here.

“Working late?” he asked, his voice carefully neutral.

“I couldn’t sleep,” you replied, forcing a small, strained smile. “Thought I’d stay up and…keep myself occupied.”

He glanced at the data pad on the bed, then at the crumpled note on his desk. His jaw tightened almost imperceptibly, and he crossed the room, his eyes locked onto the traitorous piece of paper. There was a moment of heavy silence, the kind that seemed to thrum with unspoken words. You couldn’t bear it any longer.

“I saw what you wrote,” you whispered, your voice barely audible. “About being alone.”

Hux’s shoulders stiffened, and he looked away, his gaze fixing on some indeterminate point across the room. “That was nothing,” he replied curtly. “A passing thought.”

“No,” you said, more firmly. “It wasn’t. You don’t have to pretend with me, Armitage.”

His name slipped from your lips like a plea, and he flinched as if the intimacy of it stung. The vulnerability that flickered across his features was brief but unmistakable. He sighed heavily, his hands clenching in his lap as he sank down to sit on the edge of his bed, struggling for a moment to find the right words.

“It’s…foolish, isn’t it?” he murmured, his voice quieter than you’d ever heard it. “To think that I could be anything other than what I am. I’m not made for…this.” He gestured vaguely, as if the very idea of closeness, of connection, was something foreign to him.

You took a breath, steadying yourself as you sat beside him and reached out, covering his hand with yours. “You don’t have to be anything other than who you are,” you said softly. “You don’t have to do this alone, either.”

He looked at your hand, as though unsure whether to pull away or hold on tighter. His hesitation spoke volumes, the doubt warring with a longing he could never fully express. Finally, after what felt like an eternity, his fingers closed around yours, tentative but firm.

“I’m afraid,” he confessed, the words barely more than a breath. “Afraid that if I let this—let you—too close, I’ll lose the one thing that I can control.”

You squeezed his hand, offering a gentle smile that spoke of understanding and patience. “Then let me be the one thing you don’t have to control.”

For the first time in what felt like weeks, a faint warmth glimmered in his gaze. It wasn’t a grand declaration or an outpouring of emotion, but it was real, and it was enough. In that moment, you realized that maybe you hadn’t been trying to heal his loneliness at all; you had simply been trying to share it. And that, in its own way, was more powerful than any words you could have said.

As you rested your head on his shoulder, the hum of the Finalizer’s engines no longer felt so unbearably quiet. The silence between you was no longer empty—it was peaceful, filled with the promise of something more, together.

[beezusvreeland]

now that we don't talk - chapter 6

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

ship: poe dameron x f!reader

______________________________________________________________

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

It started with Hux saying your full name.

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

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

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

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

Poe held his blaster tighter. 

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

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

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

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

Hux laughed nervously and then drank the liquid. 

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

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

And got closer to you. 

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

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

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

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

“But now I’m a woman…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

Poe’s eyes widened. 

“What do you mean…?”

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

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

“Jackpot.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Your curtain, huh? We shall see.”

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

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

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

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

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

Jib came closer and stood next to his partner. 

“So…resistance, huh?”, he said. 

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

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

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

Jib’s eyes sparkle. 

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

“I know.”

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

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

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

“Absolutely.”

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

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

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

“Focus on the task at hand, honey.”

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

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

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

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

They laughed.

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

And so, you and Poe went to the stairs.

______________________________________________________________

<< chapter 5

all chapters

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Dear readers,

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

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

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

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

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

💌 I'm on ao3!

Take care!

Love, The writer

______________________________________________________________

tags 💖

@littleshadow17 @multifandomsw @steven-grants-world

@lizispunkk @torntaltos @nervousmumbling

@arysbruv @hardbeingcasual @adriiibell

[goosewriting]

Make me a caf

summary: Hux seemingly wants to keep you around after you fix his caf machine.

relationship: Armitage Hux x GN reader

warnings: (18+) making out, sexual tension

word count: 7.4k (this one got away from me... i blacked out and woke up to this. i have no other explanation lol)

A/N: 100% self indulgent. partially inspired by @wordborne’s fic Strictly Business, which is a story for inquisitor!Cal. i wonder what it is about redheads in black outfits that’s so appealing to me  lmao

prompt used: they are absolutely losing it, they pin you against the wall, hands on either side of your face, eyes looking down, they say through gritted teeth, "This isn't easy for me. I-I've never--You matter to me. And, You deserve way better than someone like me--" They're cut off when you pull their collar closer, shaking your head, somehow not fazed by his gaze that's ripping you bare. "I deserve you--everything of you, I want it." (source, by @urfriendlywriter)

(english is not my first language. constructive criticism and grammar corrections are very appreciated!)

— — —

Life sure takes interesting turns sometimes. You started out as a mechanic on your home planet, then got drafted by the First Order to work on many projects, the latest being a new base on the planet Ilum, which was a very exclusive and secret project. So not only did you have to relocate for a long time while the base got built, but also in the little leave you got, you weren’t really allowed to talk to anyone.

But you decided a long time ago that’s an okay price to pay for an honestly more than decent pay. You also don’t have to pay for housing or food, you get your own quarters, all your equipment, and even a droid. So, not too shabby.

It’s been a while since you moved to Ilum now, and it’s a morning like any other. You’re the first to arrive at the workshop and your droid beeps at you, telling you that there’s a special request coming in asking for a mechanic. You ask your companion from where it comes and it projects a schematic of the base, with the room in question blinking.

You swallow hard as you realise that’s the part of the base where the captains and generals are housed. But the message was marked as urgent, and you’re the only one here right now, so you take your tools and nod to your droid to follow you.

It takes a while to navigate the labyrinth of hallways; it was pretty rare for the lower deck people to come to these parts. You have to look at your droid’s map a couple of times, but finally you make it to the right wing. Even the design of the walls is different here than it is in the other floors, it’s more sophisticated somehow.

You arrive at the room number indicated on the message and read the name on the plaque next to the door: it’s General Hux’s room. Great.

Luckily you didn’t have to deal with him personally, ever really, but you did hear the rumours, and they weren’t all too… nice. Sure, talks about Kylo Ren and his anger issues sounded worse in a way, but at least he lashed out from time to time. Hux donned you as the kind of person to be so emotionally constipated that he probably didn’t remember how to express anything else on his face except for contempt. In fact you’re pretty sure you’ve never seen the man smile.

Taking a deep breath, you knock on the door, and you’re startled as it opens almost immediately. In front of you towers none other than the General himself, sans his coat, eyeing you and your droid up and down.

“You’re late,” is all he says as he turns on his heel, and you follow him silently, deciding there’s no point in arguing to him about how he summoned you to basically the other side of the base out of the blue. 

You try not to stare too much, but you can’t help taking in his room: it’s spacious, clean and tidy. There’s a main room with a couch, a chair and a caf table, and a small kitchen to the side with a breakfast nook attached to it. An open door leads to a space you can’t see, but you assume it’s a hallway to the bedroom and refresher. For a whole organisation that seems to love their sleek designs in black and red, his quarters sure are light, which in turn makes them seem bigger. The wall in the far back of the living room has a huge window reaching almost from floor to ceiling, letting in plenty of natural light, reflected on the planet’s snowy landscape.

When Hux clears his throat, you rip your eyes off the place and bring them back to him, where he stands in the kitchen with his arms crossed.

“The caf machine is broken,” is all he says, then moves past you in a way that only entitled people do, where they expect the other to move out of their way, and takes a seat on the couch, reading through his datapad.

“Right,” you say through gritted teeth, thinking back to all your diplomas and licences to repair heavy machinery, artillery, spaceships, yet here you are, fixing a caf machine. 

With a sigh you approach the device and get to work. You find the problem quickly, and luckily it’s an easy fix. You stretch out your arm to your droid, asking for a tool which is handed to you with a happy beep, and finish the repair within minutes. 

“All done, Sir,” you call to Hux.

“Test it to make sure,” he orders without looking up.

“...Sir?”

He sighs.

“Make me a caf,” he clarifies. His tone isn’t particularly condescending or mocking though, it’s just flat. 

“Uhm, yes, Sir,” you respond, turn to the machine and all its buttons, then back to him. “How would you like your caf, Sir?”

“Surprise me,” he answers and goes back to scrolling through his datapad. 

You blink a couple of times, turning back to the device. This is one of those higher end machines, you’ve never really operated one. And you don’t even know where he keeps his stuff.

As if he could read your mind at your lack of movement, he says, “Caf is in the pantry, mugs are in the cupboard above.”

You open said cupboard, finding a collection of plain, black mugs, as well as an electric grinder. In the pantry you see not just an overwhelming amount of different caf beans types, but also a whole barista set, with the little press and the whisky thing. You have never used any of these; all you know is that these sets are rather expensive. And this man apparently knows his caf, so why would he ask a random mechanic to prepare it for him?

Wondering how it is you come into ridiculous situations like this alarmingly often, you get to work, grinding the beans (you didn't know a grinder could be this silent), placing everything in the machine and starting it up. In the pantry you also find some other spices and creamer, but you reckon Hux is the kind of man to take his caf black, so you don’t put in any of the latter. Instead you add a little bit of… you don’t even know what kind of spice it is, as the little jar is unlabeled, but it smells good. 

“All done, Sir,” you say as you walk up to him with the steaming mug.

He gestures to the caf table in front of him with his chin, and you’re about to place the mug down, but then see a little basket with coasters donning the First Order symbol. You pick one up and slide it under the mug.

“You can see yourself out,” is all Hux says, without looking at the mug or you.

You hesitate for a moment, not expecting to just be sent off like that. Wasn’t he even gonna try it? Wait… Why were you even waiting for a response? It’s not like you cared.

“Yes, Sir,” you bow lightly and turn on your heels, calling your droid and leaving.

On the whole walk back to your workshop, you wonder what the kriff just happened, and hope that you won’t have to deal with the General for a long time. He’s so weird.

The universe seems to be against you though, because it is only the next day when you arrive at the workshop, but this time you’re not alone. You’re the first mechanic, as for the next couple of rotations you have the early shift, but there’s a Stormtrooper waiting; that can’t mean anything good. 

“Good morning, Trooper,” you greet them with a smile as you approach them. “Anything I can help you with?”

“Grab your tools and follow me,” the modulated voice orders. You pack your little bag while the Trooper just stares, then tell your droid to come, but they lift a hand.

“Leave the droid.”

You couldn’t be more confused, but you comply, telling your droid to stay. It beeps sadly and slowly rolls back around your table, where it will probably stay and wait for you to come back. You feel a little bad, but there’s nothing you can do.

The Trooper doesn’t say anything else as you follow them through the pristine halls, your steps echoing off the walls. Every now and then you have to jog a little to catch up with their hasty pace. Soon enough the route seems oddly familiar and you feel like you’re having a déjà-vu. 

“Where are we going again?” you ask, even though you haven’t been told yet where the Trooper is taking you.

“General Hux called for you,” they explain.

Okay, now you are confused. You fixed his caf machine, even made him a fresh cup of it. What could he possibly still want? 

The rest of the way to the General’s room is silent again, and once you arrive at the door, the Trooper knocks twice, then stands guard next to it. Again, the door opens comically quickly, as if Hux had been behind it waiting the whole time. The thought makes you smile to yourself, and you try to suppress it the best you can.

“Ah, good, you found the mechanic,” Hux says, nodding to the Trooper, who nods back and leaves the way you came from. 

“What can I do for you today, Sir?” you ask as you find yourself walking into his quarters again. 

This time he has you following him through the hallway to the refresher, where he points at a flickering light.

“Fix it,” he orders and leaves.

Is this some sort of twisted game where he would have you do menial tasks every day? Is the First Order targeting you? Just what in the world is going on, you think, dropping your bag of tools onto the floor with more force than necessary. I have more urgent work to do.

Heaving a silent sigh, you inspect the light. Just as you thought, all it needed was to be screwed in tighter into its socket, and the flickering stopped. 

Picking up your bag from the floor, you walk into the hallway. The door to his room is open and you steal a tiny peek inside. His bed is huge! Sure must be comfy…

“All done, Sir,” you report as you come to stand beside him. 

“Excellent. Now,” he says as he leaves his datapad on the couch and stands up, taking a step towards you, towering over you. Instinctively you take a step back, and the tiniest of smiles appears on his freckled face. Huh, you hadn’t noticed before that he has freckles. 

“Make me a caf,” he orders.

“Sir,” you start, averting your gaze from his piercing one. “With all due respect, you have a functioning caf machine right there. I don’t see why my presence is needed.” 

He narrows his eyes at you. 

“How did you prepare the caf yesterday?” he asks.

Oh Maker, he probably hated it, you think as you tighten your grip on the strap of your bag.

“Uhm, I…” you hate yourself for stumbling over your words. You bet he’s getting a kick out of this. “Was it not to your liking Sir? If so, I apologise–”

“That was the best damn caf I’ve had in a long time,” he interrupts you, and you can only look up at him in surprise. “How did you prepare it?”

“I made a… I think it’s called a blend?” you try your darndest to remember just what you did yesterday when you experimented with the ingredients in the pantry. “I used beans from two different packs. They seemed like they would go well together… Sir.”

Why did you even do that? You have no idea. You’re also pretty sure you added one of the spices. 

“Interesting,” Hux remarks, leaning back to stand at his full height. You didn’t even notice he was leaning in so close to you. 

You kinda just stand in place, waiting for further instructions, while his eyes seem to burn through your very soul, his face unreadable. 

“Then, surprise me again, mechanic,” he orders, and walks back to the couch. 

You gulp for what you’re about to say, but you don’t like how he calls you ‘mechanic’ like it’s a derogatory term. 

“Actually, Sir, it’s…” you say and pause, waiting for him to turn to you, and then you tell him your name.

He repeats it, as if testing out how it sounds, and you reprimand yourself internally for the beat your heart just skipped when you heard him say it. 

Hux turns his attention back to the datapad, and you quickly make your way into the kitchen, leaving your bag on one of the stools. 

Once more you find yourself in front of the pantry, and you get to work. You sniff the different caf packets, trying to understand anything from the colourfully worded descriptions on the back. With a shrug, you just follow your nose like you did last time, and grind up two different kinds of beans, this time without any spices, and let the machine do the rest. 

Once it’s ready, you bring it to the caf table, where a coaster is already waiting this time. You place down the mug and bring your hands behind your back, waiting to be dismissed.

But instead, Hux takes the mug into his hand, blowing softly on it, and takes a sip. All without breaking eye contact with you. He waits a couple of seconds and hums. You hope that’s a good thing. 

“Interesting choice,” he remarks, looking into the dark liquid reflecting the room’s lights in ripples. “You’re dismissed.”

“Sir,” you excuse yourself with the same bow as yesterday, grab your bag, and leave his quarters. 

You take a quick look at the time on your datapad and curse under your breath as you’re gonna be late for the second rotation in a row, and speed up your pace.

This whole spiel goes on for almost two weeks: Hux sends someone to retrieve you from the workshop early in the morning, has you do some menial task as an excuse for calling you, then orders you to make him caf. The feedback you get for your results is sparse at best, usually only one or two words. But you did notice that he has a preference for one type of blend mixed with a certain spice. You even went as far as looking up more things to spice caf up with on the holonet, trying to apply it to the ingredients in his pantry.

The more time you spend in his room, the more he opens up little by little as well. At first you’d work in silence. Then he’d sit on the stools by the kitchen instead of the couch, doing some work. Then he’d put down the datapad to watch you work, and it even came as far as doing smalltalk. Once he even asked you for your input regarding a technical matter in his work, where you caught a glimpse of some schematics of something huge. You’d be lying if you said it didn’t make you curious to know what he was working on. 

As ridiculous as this whole situation was, not only did you find yourself looking forward to seeing a Trooper every morning, but you made it your goal to make a caf that would blow Hux’s socks right off.

It’s shortly after the two week mark of this whole thing that you’re on your way to the workshop, expecting to see a Trooper to pick you up, but the place is actually empty, save for your co-worker who’s on the early shift. You greet your droid, who beeps happily at your arrival, and you look around.

“Did anyone come by, buddy?” you ask, and get a negative beep-boop. 

When you ask the other mechanic, she also says it’s been just her until now.

Huh, weird. No, wait, hold on a minute – why are you even expecting to get summoned in the first place? You can finally catch up on all the work you’re behind on because of the little “caf-scapades”, as you’ve been calling them. 

“Alright, let’s get to work,” you tell your droid and pat it a couple of times. “There’s a lot to do.”

The nagging feeling that something is wrong doesn’t leave you though, in fact, the more time passes, the stronger it seems to get. By the end of your shift, you wonder if you should pay the General a visit out of your own volition. But you decide against it, after all he could be on a mission somewhere, or maybe he was busy today. Either way, it’s none of your business. 

You wrap up for the day and finish cleaning your workstation, get your dinner, and not long after, find yourself getting ready for bed. After a quick shower, you change into a tank top and shorts, your go-to sleepwear. You’re glad that despite the harsh outside conditions, the living quarters are well heated.

Just as you’re lifting the blanket to get into your bed, you hear your datapad beep twice: a message. You wonder who it could be this late at night.

With a sigh, you make your way to the table and pick up the device, squinting at the light in your already dark room. You almost drop it to the floor when you see the message: “Come now. Alone.” It’s from an unknown sender, but marked as urgent: it’s gotta be from Hux. You glance at the time and roll your eyes. Of course he would have you on a regular trip to his room every morning for half a month, then suddenly stop, only to call you to his room in the middle of the night. Just what is this guy’s deal?!

You look down at yourself and sigh. This isn’t how you want the General to see you, at least not right now. Not yet. Perhaps. 

You don’t really own any civilian clothes, as you’re always in the base. The only non overall kind of clothing you have is a First Order uniform, but that one is only ever really used for official events or gatherings. Plus it’s rather stiff. 

All your coveralls are currently either covered in grease and/or smell of engine oil. Besides, you don’t wanna wear those over your PJs. So you grab the next best option, which is the summer version of the coveralls you almost never use because they have short sleeves, and it’s mandatory to wear long sleeves and gloves in most of the hangars and workshops. They’re clean at least, so you quickly jump into them, not even bothering to zip it up all the way, slip into your boots and head out. 

Walking down the hallways to the military wing of the base at this time of night is strange; for some reason there’s more Troopers and people out and about than in the early mornings. They give you a strange side-eye when walking past you, but no one seems to question your presence at least.

When you finally make it to Hux’s room, you lift your hand to knock, but hesitate.

Why would he call you out here at this hour anyways? On one side you expect him to tell you that he’s grown tired and bored of you. On the other side you know he wouldn’t do that, not like this at least. 

All day, ever since not being picked up by a Trooper, you’ve been plagued by this little voice in your head. A nagging feeling that was disguised as a strange curiosity to know where the caf-scapades would bring you two in terms of getting to know each other, yet you knew that beneath it was genuine worry for the General. He doesn’t contact you all day, then suddenly messages you (which means he went out of his way to get your contact information, since you hadn’t given it to him), and here you are, running to him the second he calls you. 

You grimace at the thought, or rather the realisation, that you actually came to… like the General. 

He has a weird sense of humour, and isn’t good at expressing how he feels. But if you look closely enough, you can recognise the subtle changes in his face that give away his thoughts. You can’t deny that he is very handsome, but you’re also aware that he can be a dangerous man. You’ve heard enough stories of what he and Ren have done and are capable of. And yet… There's something about his presence, like he’s surrounded by this air full of purpose and confidence, that you can’t help being pulled towards him. 

So yeah, you’re intrigued by him. And you want to see more. 

Taking a deep breath, you knock on the door in the pattern you usually do.

But the door stays closed. 

Suddenly it dawns on you that you didn’t actually know for sure who sent the message. What if it wasn’t Hux, and something happened to him? What if he was hurt and this was all a trap?

You hold your breath, tilting your ear towards the door, trying to hear if there’s anyone at all in there, when you suddenly hear a groan from the other side.

You’re about to call out to Hux but stop yourself. You’re sure it was a groan right, and not a… moan? You feel heat rising to your cheeks at the thought. 

Shaking away the images threatening to flood your brain, you knock again. You really hope you’re not interrupting anything.

This time the groan is louder, clearly pained, and it’s calling your name. 

“Sir?” you ask, now definitely worried for his well-being, all other theories thrown out the window. 

Suddenly, the door whooshes open, but there’s no one in front of it. Instead, you see the remote aimed at the entrance (so that’s how he opened the door so quickly), held by a Hux who’s half hanging from the couch onto the floor.

“General!” you call, close the door behind you and rush to his side.

Hux is only wearing his trousers; his shirt, jacket and belt are strewn on the floor. He probably was trying to get dressed or change, but collapsed. You grab his arms to pull him up, and you get to sit him down properly on the couch. His face is flushed all the way down to his neck, clearly running a fever. Your hand shoots up to touch his forehead and he’s burning. He weakly swats your hand away and winces in pain, his eyes shut tightly, and you feel your own gaze travelling down his jaw to his collarbones, to all the freckles covering his shoulders and pecs.

Forcing yourself to tear away your eyes, you shake his shoulder lightly. 

“Sir, you need to go to bed and rest,” you tell him.

“I- I was… trying,” he huffs between heavy breaths, his eyes meeting your own in what you guess was meant to be a glare, but they lack their usual intensity. 

“Lean onto me,” you instruct, pulling him up by an arm and throwing it over your shoulder. You feel how he’s fighting to slump all of his weight on you, and get moving. 

It takes a while and Hux almost falls to the floor twice, but you make it to his room, where he lets himself fall onto the bed. You rush to the refresher, where you remember seeing a first aid kit, and bring it back to the room. You help him take off his boots and lift the blanket for him to climb into the bed, tucking him in once he’s settled. Then you sit down on the edge of the bed and start unpacking the kit. A cold patch goes to his forehead and you take his temperature, which is way too high.

“I’m gonna give you a stim, okay?” you warn him as you take it out of the kit, pulling the blanket down a little so you can apply it. You stick it below his collarbone in a quick motion, and he hisses.

“There, there,” you coo and can’t help but smile. He grunts as he places his forearm over his face, and you pull the blanket back up properly.

After packing everything into the kit and putting it to the side, you go to the kitchen to get a cup of water. Back in the room, you hand Hux some pills and the cup, and he downs it all without even asking what it is and with no snarky remark, which makes you feel even worse for him; the fever must be really bad.

You’re still sitting at his side, taking in his state and wondering what else you can do, when a question pops into your head.

“Why did you call me, General?” you ask him, and he peeks at you from under his arm. “Shouldn’t you have gotten a nurse or a medical droid?”

“Didn’t get my caf today,” he rasps. 

“Oh, so it’s my fault you came down with a fever?” you retort playfully. He nods, and you can’t help but laugh a little. 

“So now I gotta make up for my mistake?” you add, and he nods again. You exhale through your nose with a smile. “Well, General, I did all I can do for you. I’m gonna go get a medical droid–”

But before you can stand up, his hand shoots up to grab your wrist, yanking you back down. 

“Armitage,” he whispers, blinking a couple of times, trying to focus his eyes on you.

“Sir–” is all you get out, trying to loosen his grip on your wrist.

“Call me Armitage,” he repeats, louder this time, eyes suddenly full of an intensity you didn’t know he had left in his state.

“Sir, I can’t– You’re–” you whimper in pain as his grip tightens around you even more. “You’re hurting me, Armitage.”

Hux looks up at you a moment longer, then down at his hand, and suddenly lets go, as if he only now realised what he was doing.

“I– I didn’t mean to…” he mumbles as his hand hesitantly reaches up to your wrist again, but much gentler this time. His fingers ghost over the irritated skin, taking your hand in his larger one, and bringing it to his mouth to kiss your knuckles.

“Stay the night,” he orders, and you feel like your heart, brain, lungs – everything just stops working altogether. 

“Gener–” you start but his brows furrow in a warning glare, so you correct yourself. “Armitage, I really shouldn’t. I can’t.”

Not when you’re like this, at least, you add in your mind.

“I won’t do anything, I promise,” he assures you, his face softening, but eyes still as intense. “Just stay by my side.”

Your eyes fall to your hand still in his, and you feel him give you a squeeze. After a moment, you return it. You’re aware that this can end in one of two ways: it’s either the start of something very interesting, or the end of your career as you know it. Are you really about to risk it all for some fun? 

“Okay,” you finally give in, and he sighs in relief.

Hux pats the space next to him in his enormous bed, and you walk over to the other side of it, lying down on top of the blanket. He holds your hand again and closes his eyes, starting to drift off. 

– – – – –

The next morning, Hux wakes up to a dull pang of pain behind his eyes. He squints as he takes in his surroundings. When did he get to bed? Did he forget to close the blinds last night? Sitting up in the bed, he sees the patch from his forehead fall into his lap. Did he get that himself from the refresher? Why can’t he remember anything from last night? 

He throws his legs over the edge of the bed, seeing that he’s still wearing his uniform’s trousers. On the nightstand is a glass of water and some pills which he assumes to be aspirin. He downs it, drinking the whole thing. Why is he so thirsty? 

His eyes travel over the bed when he realises that not only is the other side ruffled, as if someone had slept there, but there’s some mechanic’s overalls neatly folded at the end of the bed too. He freezes, racking his brain for any events of the night prior, but it’s all a blur.

Suddenly he hears some clinking sounds from the kitchen. Sniffing the air he also smells food. Just as he’s about to get up to investigate, you come walking through the door, and his heart skips several beats. You’re only wearing a tank top and shorts, showing much more skin than he’d ever seen from you, and he immediately decides that he likes what he sees. 

“Oh, you’re up,” you say, coming to a halt just as you pass the door, suddenly very self-conscious of how his eyes are essentially eating you up. “I made breakfast, and caf. Are you feeling any better?”

He doesn’t answer, instead looking down at the floor. You being here, dressed like this, does that mean that last night you two…? And if so, why couldn’t he remember any of it?! 

Given his lack of response, you walk around the bed and stand in front of Hux, looking at him with worry.

“Hey, are you okay?” you ask, your hand coming up to his forehead. You sigh in relief when you notice his fever is almost gone, but you don’t miss how he tenses up at your touch. So if he’s back to normal again… “A-Armitage?”

Hux straightens up suddenly at the use of his name, and looks at you with a ferocity you hadn’t seen before. You instinctively take a step back, and immediately regret it when you see the hurt cross his face for a split second. Hux’s eyes fall and go to your hand which had just been on his forehead moments ago. A scowl spreads on his face as he carefully takes your wrist and brings it up to his face to inspect the bruising that spreads from the back of your hand to almost the middle of your forearm.

“Who did this to you?” he asks through gritted teeth, clearly upset. 

“You did,” you answer, and he looks up at you in disbelief. “You don’t… remember anything from last night?”

“I don’t,” he groans, and when he looks back up at you, his ears burn in the cutest shade of pink. “Since I don’t remember, I have to ask… Did we… last night?”

Your cheeks get set ablaze as you shake your head, biting your lip. When he sighs in relief, you feel your heart sink momentarily, but it resumes its erratic beating with his next words. 

“I’d hate myself if something happened and I didn’t remember it the next day,” he’s quick to clarify, still not letting go of your hand. “And about this… I’m sorry.”

You don’t think that apologies are something that comes easy to Hux, so you know you should just take it as such and shut up, but you can’t help your blabbering, trying to make him feel better for some reason.

“Don’t worry about it, I bruise easily,” you say with a sheepish smile. “Besides, I’ve had worse. I’ll survive.”

“Worse?” Hux asks, concerned for you and at the same time enraged at the thought of someone else hurting you. 

“Yeah, look at this,” you reply, removing your hand from his to lift your shirt up a little, while the other pulls down the hem of your shorts ever so slightly, to show him a scar that goes from above your hip bone up and around your ribcage. “This one I got from when an engine fell on me.” 

So you meant work accidents and not someone else laying a hand on you. Hux feels the earlier rage dissipate as he takes in your scar, and the way you so easily bared yourself to him. 

Being pulled towards him by your hips, you watch in complete shock when Hux places the softest of kisses on your scar, then traces it with his fingers. He’s so close, you wonder if he can hear your heart pounding against your ribcage.

“Shall we get breakfast then?” he asks, suddenly very matter-of-factly, and stands up. “Wouldn’t want the caf to get cold after all.”

Hux walks past you to the wardrobe, getting out of your sight as he stands behind the open door. You take a moment to control your breathing and imagination, then walk towards the kitchen. 

When he joins you on the stools, you notice he changed into more comfortable clothes, and you pass him his mug and a plate of eggs and bacon.

“I can also make some porridge if you think you’d stomach that better?” you offer.

“This is perfect,” he retorts, and starts eating. 

You prop your hand on your elbow for a second, just taking in this moment which seems… strangely domestic. And peaceful. It feels like something you could get used to.

Snapping back to reality, you check the time on the microwave, and scramble to your feet.

“Ah, kriff! I’m so late!” you start running back and forth, gathering your things. You quickly slip into your overalls and jump into your boots without even tying them up. You appear once more next to Hux, who’s still calmly enjoying his breakfast.

“You better take the day off. I don’t want to see you around, you hear me?” you tell him, pointing at him with a scolding finger. “Drink plenty of water and stay in bed, okay? Message me if anything comes up.” 

Before you realise what you’re doing, you place a quick kiss to his cheek, say your goodbyes and dash out the door, leaving a very perplexed Hux in the kitchen.

It’s only as you’re rushing down the halls that you realise not only what you’ve done but also how this must look to the passers-by: someone getting out of a high ranking officer’s room with rather dishevelled hair, not having even put on your clothes properly. You swallow your pride though, ignoring all the looks you get, and run as fast as you can to your room to get changed. 

When you finally make it to the workshop, it’s no surprise to see your supervisor there, and he’s fuming. You try to sneak by to your workstation somehow, but he sees you and calls you over to his office, where he gives you an earful about impunctuality and responsibility and yadda yadda yadda. Then he goes on about how highly irregular this behaviour is from you since you’ve always been a diligent worker, and you better think twice before not appearing for work next time. 

You bite your tongue and let it all pass over you. As long as you finish your work within the deadline, there’s no real risk here. 

When your boss finally lets you go, you rush to your droid and get to work immediately. The next couple of rotations you’re immersed in your job, taking shift after shift to catch up on everything you still have to get done. In all this time, there’s no messages from Hux, and you’re glad, because you would probably say things to him that you’d regret later if you saw him right now. Getting so behind schedule in the first place is kind of his fault. Sure, you never told him that you were losing precious hours of work, but you didn’t think it’d get this far. That you would come to enjoy his company and hope he enjoyed yours, to the point where he had asked you to spend the night. 

So, right now, you don’t want to see him, not until after the deadline. But the universe has other plans for you yet again, as it is the day before it that you see Hux again. 

You had told him he should message you. He could have gone and sent a Trooper for you like last time. But no, what does this guy do? Comes to get you personally.

If it wasn’t for your droid, you wouldn’t even have seen him coming because you’re currently head-first inside a cockpit, trying to reach some cables. But its beeps alert you, and you spring up so hastily that you hit your head on the dashboard.

With a hiss and rubbing over the spot you just hit, you get out of the ship, where Hux and two of his Troopers are waiting. 

“General Hux,” you greet with a polite smile, “What can I do for you?”

“Come with me,” he orders, and for a moment you look at him in disbelief. 

Just what is he getting at now? No greeting, no nothing? Just ordering you around again, in front of your crew? Making you lose even more hours of work? Oh, two can play that game.

“No,” you retort after a scoff.

He comes to a halt and turns around slowly, his eyes narrowed at you in a warning glare. 

“I beg your pardon?” he asks, his whole body language telling you to measure your next words very carefully, but instead, you slightly lift your chin in a defiant gesture. 

“Then beg.” 

Hux curls his fists at his side, and the Troopers lift their blasters to aim at you, but he lifts one hand, and they lower their weapons, but not without giving each other a look behind the General. 

At this point the whole workshop is so silent, you’re sure you’d be able to hear a needle drop onto the metallic floor. Even the TIE fighters in the hangars around you seem to roar more silently. 

“I am the General in charge of this base and you will listen to me!” he suddenly yells, and you avert your eyes. You can’t believe he just pulled rank on you. 

Letting the tool you were holding fall into the toolbox with a clank, you walk up to him, still not looking him in the eyes.

He slightly shakes his head at you, then turns on his heels and heads for the hallway, with you in tow and the Troopers at the end. 

Hux takes a different route than expected; instead of taking you to his quarters, which are pretty far away, he heads to the office wing, finding an empty conference room and getting in. He slams the button on the panel for the blinds, and the inner windows dividing the room and the hallway go dark. 

“No interruptions,” he instructs the Troopers through gritted teeth, then closes the door. 

You find yourself in the rather dark room now, alone, with a seemingly very angry General. He suddenly turns around and takes quick steps towards you, pushing you back against the conference table and trapping you between his arms.

“Don’t you dare defy me like that again in front of the others,” he threatens you. 

“Defy you?” you say with a wry smile, crossing your arms in front of your chest. “You don’t get to order me around like your Stormtroopers. You can ask nicely, you know? Or just, I don’t know, like a normal person?” 

He groans, slamming his fist onto the table, which startles you. You don’t like this attitude at all, so you push him back and take a step to the side.

“General– No, Armitage,” you try softening him up by using his name, and it seems to be working. “What even are we?”

He starts walking towards you again, slowly backing you up against the wall this time. 

“If this is just a game to you, then–” you start, your hands on his chest in an attempt to push him off, but you don’t actually put any strength into it because you know what you actually want. So you let yourself be pushed further, your heart pounding with every step backwards you take. “Then let’s just stop right here. But if you’re serious about this, you need to tell me, please…”

By now, Hux is absolutely losing it, and he finally pins you against the wall, hands on either side of your face, eyes looking down into yours.

"This isn't easy for me,” he says through gritted teeth. “I– I've never– You matter to me. And, maybe you deserve better than someone like me–"

He’s cut off when you pull him closer by the collar, shaking your head, somehow not fazed by his gaze that's ripping you bare.

"I deserve you– everything of you, I want it,” you breathe. 

With that, Hux’s last thread of self-control snaps, and he presses his body against yours, smashing his lips on yours. The kiss is heated, sloppy and messy, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Finally you’re able to show just how much you’ve been longing for each other. 

The General slips his hands under your thighs, pulling you up against the wall. You gasp in surprise and he uses that to press his tongue against yours. You hook your ankles behind him, both your hands roaming each other in desperation. 

When you finally break for air, you’re panting, but Hux attacks your neck next, and he’s relentless. He spends what feels like an eternity and yet nowhere near enough kissing, biting, licking every inch of your skin he can reach. You’re sure the grip of his hands on your legs will leave bruises again, but this time you find yourself looking forward to them. 

Once Hux seems satisfied, he nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his shoulders rising and falling quickly with his ragged breathing. 

“When you showed me that scar,” he whispers against your skin. “I thought I was gonna take you then and there.”

He leans his head back only enough to look at you, and the intensity of his eyes sends a shudder to your very bones.

“I’ll map every inch of your skin, every scar, mole and freckle, and mark it up. I want all of you,” he growls, and you’re not sure if it’s supposed to be a threat or a promise; you’re just glad that he’s holding you in place because your knees have long since given out.

You cup his face, and bring him in for another kiss. This time it’s much slower, gentler, but just as deep. 

“I’d like that,” you breathe into his lips, and he smiles. 

When he finally lets you down, you have to hold onto Hux because of how wobbly your legs are. 

“You good?” he asks, his hands on the underside of your arms to hold you.

“Yeah,” you reassure him, and have to choke back a laugh when you look up at him.

“What?” he questions with an amused little smile. 

“Come here, lemme fix your hair. You’re quite a mess,” you say, and he leans down so you can smooth out his hair as best as you can. 

“Well, you should see yourself,” he chuckles as he returns the favour.

Once you’re both more or less presentable, you walk to the door. Before Hux opens it though, he takes your hand one last time in his and brings it to his lips, kissing your knuckles.

“See you tonight?” he asks, hopeful.

“Can’t wait,” you say with a wink.

– – – – –

Bonus:

When you make it back to your table in the workshop with a dreamy look on your face, your co-worker brings her hand to her mouth with a gasp.

“What?” you ask her, looking around in surprise, trying to find the source of her horror.

“Really? The General?!” she whisper-shouts, gesturing to you to follow her.

She guides you to the little supply closet at the end of the workshop and rummages in a box for a clean rag.

“What do you mean? Was it so obvious?” you ask, your cheeks still ablaze from before.

“Obvious?” she repeats rhetorically, handing you the rag and a little pocket mirror. “Honey, you can see those hickeys all the way from Coruscant.”

“Wait, what?” you blurt out and look into the mirror. Sure enough, the General made sure you won’t be able to walk around the base without a turtleneck for several rotations. He went absolutely ham.

“Gha!” you shriek, tying the rag around your neck like a scarf. “I’m gonna kill him!”

[shangchiswife]

kylo ren- safe space

summary: you help kylo relax as you offer him some advice

kylo ren x gn!reader

warnings: none

word count: 623

The moment Kylo Ren slammed open the door to your shared quarters and banged it shut, you could practically feel the anger radiating off him.

You said nothing as you watched him toss his helmet into oblivion, showcasing his once pale now red face contorted with anger, veins popping from his forehead.

He stopped moving, his shoulders moving up and down with every huff that left his mouth.

At this point, you left your bed and walked over to him, placing a gentle hand on his face, watching as he shut his eyes from the comforting feeling of your palm.

You then removed your hand from his face and took his gloved hand in yours.

You took him over to your bed and sat him down.

Then, you started to remove his gloves from his hands, placing a gentle kiss on each of them before taking off his boots.

Kylo watched you, his brown eyes flickering to each of your gentle movements.

Next, you peeled off his dark tunic, leaving his chest bare and heaving.

"Relax," you muttered, pushing him onto the mattress.

"What are you up to, princess?" he questioned, sitting up against the bed as you climbed into his lap.

"Nothing, I swear," you said as his large hands immediately came to rest on your hips.

He arched a single eyebrow with amusement but didn't question your actions again.

Your hands returned to his cheeks as you caressed the smooth skin, smiling at the way his eyes drooped with pleasure.

"Stop smirking," his deep voice rumbled through the room as you let out a soft laugh before pressing a kiss to his temple. You didn't miss the way his lips curled up into a smile. A smile only reserved for you.

When you first started being in a relationship it took quite some time for him to be vulnerable with you due to some of his past failed relationships with family members and other people he had been involved with.

You rested your head on his shoulder and started playing with his hair.

"So what's wrong," you asked, running your hand through his long dark locks.

He sighed.

"After becoming Supreme Leader it seems that everyone still doesn't take me seriously," he rubbed his temples.

You took note of the twinge of annoyance in his voice and decided to let him speak more before adding your own input.

"Like for example whenever I walk around the compound instead of stopping to salute me, everyone stays silent or whispers and doesn't do anything," 

You watched as he clenched his fists, his knuckles turning a white color.

You hummed in response, acknowledging that you had heard him.

"And whenever General Hux walks by they all immediately drop whatever task I've given them to salute him and give him compliments," Kylo's voice dripped with malice at the mention of the general whom he hated so much.

Kylo had started to hate the general even more after he watched him shamelessly flirt with you while you desperately tried to avoid his advances. 

You could not tell if Hux was serious with his advances or whether he was trying to make Kylo upset. Whatever his intentions, he clearly succeeded in making Kylo despise him even more.

"Give them time, Kylo. I mean it's only been two weeks since Snoke passed away. They need time to adjust to you as their leader," you rubbed his chest with one of your hands while the other continued to rake through his hair. 

He nodded.

"I suppose...maybe I haven't been fair with them," he sighed.

"You see this is why you'll be a good leader," you said with a smile as he looked down at you.

He was so lucky to have you. He'd never say it out loud but he was.

"Thank you, princess," he kissed your head as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

"You're welcome, Kylo,"