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pluto-parker · 5 years

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Temptation *Kylo Ren x Reader*

Summary: The one where a heated argument dissolves into violent sexual tension.

Warnings: No smut but it gets QUITE suggestive. 18+ just to be safe. I don’t usually write stuff like this lmao I don’t know what happened. BDSM/choking kink reference.

Word Count: 1.3K

Masterlist

A/N: I haven’t posted in so long it’s a crime

You are walking through the sleek halls of The Dreadnought, carrying out orders from General Hux and dishing out some of your own to the lower ranks. The rebels have been more active than usual and The First Order has had to expend many resources and soldiers trying to take them down. With Rey on their side, their hope is blazing as passionate as ever, making taking them down that much harder. Tensions are high throughout the base. They have been for the past couple of weeks. Ren is even more volatile and Hux is even more on edge. You’ve been doing everything in your power to maintain order and keep the violence to a minimum, especially from Kylo.

His temper has gotten many soldiers killed as of late, and you need as many of your troops alive as possible.

The robotic beeps and whirs of the ship’s mechanics resound in your ears and the sound of your footsteps echo throughout the hall as you walk. Not a single storm trooper is to be seen. The silence and isolation is almost therapeutic. You feel as if you haven’t gotten a moment to yourself for days.

Slowing your pace to a crawl, you train your eyes on the vast expanse of space existing just behind the large glass window that lies only a few feet away. The beauty of the galaxy has never ceased to take your breath away.

A shaky voice interrupts your thoughts. “Sir, I’m afraid we were unable to take down the rebel fleet.”

A pause.

Then a much more sinister voice replies, “You were... unable... to fulfill your mission?”

The hair on the back of your neck stiffens and you pick up your pace. You know that voice. The anger that resides in every word. Like poison.

A sharp turn to the left reveals your suspicions to be true. A quivering soldier and a seething Kylo Ren stand alone in the vast darkness of the hall.

You can see the sweat reflect the light on the cadet’s brow. “Y-yes, sir.”

Kylo clenches his fist before extending his opposite arm, throwing the soldier against the wall.

Your feet launch you forward, “Sir, that’s enough! I cannot stand by and watch as you thoughtlessly torture my men!”

Kylo turns his head toward you, his arm still outstretched, pinning the helpless man against the wall. After a moment’s pause, he drops his arm, releasing the cadet who scampers away in terror.

You become dangerously aware that you’re alone with him. A cold shiver runs up the center of your spine. A hard lump forms in the pit of your throat. A cold damp cloaks the skin of your palms.

He approaches you in long, heavy strides, each step emphasized by a thud. You fight the instinct to run, keeping your feet planted and your eyes trained on his mask as he stops just in front you, towering over you, casting a shadow over you.

You feel so small.

“What makes you think you can talk to me that way?”

His voice is menacingly calm. You clasp your hands behind your back to avoid fiddling with them and giving away your weakness.

“We cannot afford to lose men outside of the battlefield.”

His chest rises and falls as he sucks in a deep breath, “Incompetent soldiers do not deserve the valiance of a death earned fighting for The Order.”

“It is not up to you to decide upon their incompetence.”

You can see a trembling rage begin to swell within his shoulders, “I can do what I want.”

Your brow twitches ever so slightly, irritation bubbling in your throat as you speak, “Not to my soldiers.”

His masked face lowers ever so slowly until you are eye-to-eye with his jet black visor. “It is below me to take orders from a lowly First Order pawn.”

“How ironic coming from Supreme Leader Snoke’s little pet,” you seethe. With fists clenched tight, you can feel a rage of your own build in your stomach. So sick of the mistreatment and stress and pressure. You are so swept up in emotion you have no room to regret your hasty, insulting words.

You stand, defiant, waiting for his outburst. But, it never comes.

Silence fills the small space between the both of you.

The air is still.

And then his head tilts ever so slightly to the left--observing, conniving, and... alluring.

“You know... I could kill you if I wanted to.”

Something new weaves its way through his voice. The air about him shifts. You feel as if his gaze is tearing you apart.

“It’d be as easy as snapping my fingers. I know you know this. You’ve seen it.” He trails a teasing finger from your right temple, down your jawline, and pausing just under your chin, tilting your head up. His touch leaves a burning trail in its wake. He pauses for just a second before continuing his finger further down your skin and wrapping his large, gloved hand around your vulnerable neck. In one swift motion, he roughly pushes you back against the glass wall, pressing his body against your own.

Confusion and terror are overpowered by something white-hot that flashes through your entire being as you stare, wide-eyed, at Kylo in front of you.

“And, yet, you’re not afraid.” With fingers still pressed firmly around your neck, his other hand slowly removes the mask from his face, revealing the ruggedly-handsome man underneath.

His long locks frame his face as he searches yours. You can feel his presence prodding at your conscience but you don’t care. His onyx eyes feel as if they have captured your soul so looking away was out of the question. You want to see as much of him as you can. You never thought in a million years that the hateful man under the mask could be so handsome, so young. You always thought that hate makes people ugly, but Kylo is a devilish exception.

His grip on your neck tightens and his face grows closer to yours. His lips are a mere centimeter away. You can feel his hot breath fan over your face as his free hand travels under your shirt, clawing at the soft skin of your waist.

“Sir,” you barely manage to exhale.

“Kylo. Call me Kylo. You say it in your mind, so say it allowed. I want to hear it,” his voice is low and gravelly like the deep hum of a double bass, drawing a sharp breath from your lungs as another flash of white-hot courses through your body.

“Kylo,” you whisper, removing one hand from his wrist and ghosting your thumb over the soft flesh of his bottom lip.

He revels in your choked tone, practically melting into your feathery touches that so contrast his damaging ones.

With a sharp inhale through his nose, Kylo violently closes the distance between your lips. His hand grapples with the skin of your body, his parched lips and forceful tongue drink in the taste of you as you wind your fingers through his hair, pulling and tugging with lustful ferocity and desperation. His entire being envelops your senses, his toned body is flush against yours, your knee wedges itself between the crevice of his legs when--

the heat of his body is replaced by freezing air.

Catching your breath and clutching at your bruised throat, you stare--disheveled, hurting, and hungry for more--at the once again masked Kylo when the familiar tempo of marching soldiers grows louder and louder in your ears. Overwhelmed, you don’t bother to clean yourself up before the wall of soldiers come down the hall, filling the space between you and Kylo. You don’t take your eyes off of him for a second and his gaze remains intently fixed on yours. What feels like hours pass before the soldiers disappear down the hall and Kylo whisks toward you, yanking your arm toward him and leaning down to whisper in your ear, “Meet me in my quarters at midnight. Don’t be late,” before sharply releasing his hold and exiting the hall, power and enticing menace radiating from his authoritative form.

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restlessxgirls · 5 years

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The Spark of Black That I Seem To Love by GremlinGirl Rating: Explicit Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Category: F/F Fandom: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015) Relationship: Phasma/Rey Characters: Rey, Phasma Additional Tags: Dark!Rey, First Order, Phasma's POV, Sex, Oral, Hints at beginnings of Sub/Dom Relationship Series: Part 1 of the Desires of the Flesh series Next Work → Words: 3771 Chapters: 1/1 Summary: After Rey becomes Kylo Ren's padawan, she sets her sights on Phasma, the tall, beautiful Captain of the Stormtroopers. However, Phasma is fairly cluesless and Rey has to resort to different tactics to get her attention.

#the spark of black that i seem to love #reysma #rey x captain phasma #rey #captain phasma #star wars #the force awakens #swtfa #fanfiction

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thundrpilot · 6 years

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Cam’s Star Wars Rec 4/∞

Star Wars Fic Recs: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] Here’s a Fic Masterlist for my other fandoms. ( ** = favorites )

**The Light Rises by MadameSpaceSkunk

Word count: 28,228 (14/?)

Summary: When he woke up, his first thought was that he was being crushed by something, something moving on his lap. His whole body ached. He reached out to push the thing off him and opened his eyes. There was hair, brown hair in front of him. Around it, a cockpit. He was in an X-Wing. In an X-wing with someone else.

His eyes widened. "No, no, no, no, no..."

"I'm sorry, it was the only way! Hold on!"

Rey.

He was shoved hard to the right, then to the left, a bright flare flying past them. She was dodging fire. Dodging fire, her face almost flat on the windshield! There was no way she had easy access to all the commands!

"No, no, no, no…"

Comments: Damerey. My absolute favorite fic! My favorite part is the world-building that goes on in this fic and also how gritty and raw the happenings are. Every chapter of this masterpiece hits you right in the gut. The writing in this story is very well done and the dialogue is realistic and reads like a real-life conversation. I got sucked into shipping Poe/Rey because of this fic and I am so glad I have seen the light and am in the process of making up all the time I lost not reading fics of this pairing. Go read this please. And be a good person and don’t forget to leave comments!

Right Before the First by murderofporgs

Word count: 2,856 (1/1)

Summary: Poe wakes up in the Millennium Falcon's forward cargo hold with no memory of how he ended up there, wrapped around Finn. Poe knows that he's going to have to deal with all of this sooner or later and that he's not quite ready yet, Finn knows that he needs to figure out the rules of social interaction outside of the First Order, and there are porgs in the sublight engines.

Comments: This is a FinnPoe and it is Part 1 of the Flammable Materials series. As the tags state, Poe Dameron does indeed Need A Hug. Preferably from Finn.

In Vino Veritas by murderofporgs

Word count: 3,860 (1/1)

Summary: “General, permission to get Commander Dameron drunk and make him talk about his feelings?”

In which X-wing pilots have their own ideas of therapy, Poe Dameron is not the least jealous that Finn is making new friends all over the place, and no-one is eating any porgs.

It's less lighthearted than it sounds.

Comments: This is Part 3 of the Flammable Materials, the first part of which I just recced above. My poor son Poe just needs a break, and he gets one, finally.

everything under control (no really) by Elenothar

Word count: 3,364 (1/1)

Summary: It starts when General Leia asks him to accompany her on a diplomatic mission to Corellia. Except that’s not quite true because somehow Poe’s ‘accidentally’ been assigned to every single one of their recruitment drives for years now.

The one in which Poe finds out that he apparently helps the Resistance’s diplomatic efforts by being hot and is not amused. (Everyone else is.)

Comments: JediStormPilot, but focuses on Poe’s relationship with Leia.

Curse the Stars by SugarSpiceandCurseWords

Word count: 12,347 (1/1)

Summary: Kes Dameron understands better than anyone why his son fights. He doesn't have to like it.

Set just prior to and during The Force Awakens, focusing on Poe's mission to Jakku.

Comments: Heartbreaking interactions between father and son, from Kes’ point of view. Embodies the #Poe Dameron Needs A Hug tag. I love it bc its true.

A Job To Do by blogotron9000

Word count: 7,410 (6/6)

Summary: In the Resistance, no one's job is ever defined as narrowly as its title might suggest. Fighter pilots fly starfighters -- but they also run reconnaissance missions, repair their own ships, take turns in the galley on mess duty … and cruise the Galaxy looking for surviving Senators.

Poe Dameron, Snap Wexley, and Jess Pava find themselves on what amounts to a salvage mission. It's just that this time the wreckage they're digging through happens to be the shards of the New Republic.

Comments: Poe’s friendship with Jessika Pava and Snap Wexley, post-TFA.

living where the black meets the blue by JenTheSweetie

Word count: 8,141 (1/1)

Summary: “She shot you?” he asks, and Poe looks away; he won’t force Finn to meet his eyes.

“Yeah,” he says. “Knocked me out cold. To be fair, I was mutinying. She probably should’ve killed me.”

He says it lightly, but Finn rears back and says, “That’s not funny, man,” and then he’s gone, and it shouldn’t be possible to feel worse than he did before, but hey, he’s Poe Dameron: anything is possible.

What happens after the end of everything.

Comments: Angsty FinnPoe aboard the Falcon, post-TLJ. Poe has a lot of guilt and this leads to feelings of low self-worth. Poe is hurting so much and pushes everyone else away.

The Journey Back by DaughterOfKings

Word count: 954 (1/1)

Summary: Poe dreams about a tree with golden-green leaves stretching far and high over his parents’ land. He learned to climb before he learned to fly, and would spend hours nestled in the top branches, gazing at the sky. He never fell, not once, and he grew up thinking he was protected.

He wakes up in pain.

Comments: Missing-scene fic, set after Poe’s escape from Jakku.

Memory by herworship429

Word count: 2,231 (1/1)

Summary: “What the guardian protects, the Dark One would destroy. Jedi must remember. Or future is lost.”

Or the one where they go exploring some haunted temple ruins and discover that Luke left something important behind.

Comments: Post-TLJ, featuring a force-sensitive Poe (my fav trope), and contains subtle, barely-there hints of Damerey. Also I may have cried a bit while reading this.

Song for a fifth child by Deputychairman

Word count: 5,978 (1/1)

Summary: The Force isn't the only kind of power

Comments: Mentions of Leia/Han and Poe/Finn. Read this if you want to cry.

I Think I Could Make a Home Here (In Your Arms) by Xanisis

Word count: 1,872 (1/1)

Summary: You could trust a man with eyes like that.

Comments: Damerey, featuring slightly force-sensitive Poe. Post-TLJ with several times skips and a hopeful ending.

**Connections by jbn42

Word count: 13,501 (4/4)

Summary: When the nightmares from when Kylo Ren invaded his head keep waking Poe up, he goes looking for quiet and solace and finds a new kind of connection instead.

Comments: READ THIS PLS. ITS SO GOOD. It’s Damerey and is Part 1 of the Connections series, which has 7 works so far, with a total word count of 102,967!! And still counting! It makes use of my favorite trope which is a force-sensitive Poe, and it works so well. We also get a lot of background character scenes which is awesome. And force ghosts! If you do go read this don’t forget to leave some comments!

Star Wars Fic Recs: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] Here’s a Fic Masterlist for my other fandoms.

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ladylynse · 6 years

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"Snakes, why did it have to be snakes?" With any star wars characters please :)

I haven’t seen the newest SW movie yet or watched the others for a while, so this is rough, but I gave it a shot. I hope you enjoy it! (I tweaked the tense of your prompt a little; hopefully you don’t mind, since it doesn’t completely destroy the meme.)

“Snakes. Why does it have to be snakes?”

Rey stopped and glanced back at Finn, raising her eyebrows. “It’stwo baby snakes,” she said, “stuck in a rut. If you don’t want to step overthem, walk around them.”

“But…snakes.”

Yes. Snakes. It was Rey’s first encounter with thecreatures, too—not surprisingly, there were none to be found on Jakku—but shedidn’t understand Finn’s apparent fear of them, not when he’d been faced withmuch worse.

And especially when they were hardly larger than the size ofher little finger.

She could step on them and they would die. He could step onthem and they would die. They wouldn’t have time to try to pierce through theheavy leather of his boot with their fangs even if they were poisonous.

She walked back to him. “I know we’ve only been on thisplanet for five minutes, but I’m pretty sure you’ll live. They can’t hurt you.Trust me, these snakes aren’t going to be what takes you out.”

“We left the ship twelve and a half minutes ago,” Finnmuttered, glancing behind them. They hadn’t been following a path so much as afaint trail, but if there was information at the end of it, that was all Reycared about. They’d split into pairs upon landing, BB-8 and Poe staying behindon the ship in case anything came up and they needed a quick exit. She hadn’thad any qualms going off with Finn, but she also hadn’t expected this.

“They can’t hurt you,” Rey repeated.

“I still don’t like this. We should try another way.”

Rey stared at him, incredulous. She’d seen Finn do someenormously brave and enormously foolish things. She didn’t expect him to wantto turn back because of snakes.Especially two tiny little harmless snakes that were stuck in a rut—

Wait.

Why was there a rut?

This was a forest planet.

To get a vehicle through here that would scar the surfacethis much—

“You know what?” she said as she plastered a smile on herface that probably looked more nervous than comforting. “You’re right. Weshould go a different way. And we should run while we’re at it. Hard to say howlong those snakes have been in there, really, but that looks fairly fresh, soit probably hasn’t been very long.”

“Wha—?”

“Run!” Rey screamed, grabbing his hand and pulling him deeperinto the forest as her ears finally caught a faint whir of machinery. Once theyhad cover, they could get a message to the others, maybe scout out who wasfollowing them and take them out if it was just a routine patrol, but it wasn’tever routine patrols anymore.

And no one was supposed to know they were here.

Except someone did, and someone had been waiting for them, someone who was either after them or theinformation they had.

Why couldn’t it have just been snakes?

#swtfa #star wars #rey #finn #fanfiction #ladylynse #my writing #sw snippet #snippets #I tried #I'm sorry #I need to watch the movies again to do the characters justice #it's been two years #Anonymous #I probably shouldn't admit I haven't seen any of the Indiana Jones movies either

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fic-rec-time · 6 years

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Tomorrow (they’ll be more of us) by dimircharmer Star Wars (The Force Awakens)/Complete/Chapters: 1 Words: 2,839 “FN-2187 was real, right?” She sounds very young again. “Please tell me he was real." "I'm real,” said Finn, who was on his first patrol since his back healed. “And my name’s Finn now.” Her eyes widened. “You have a name? * Or: The resistance is starting to get stormtrooper defectors. Finn helps them out. // This is really sweet, and I just love fics where Finn befriends other stormtrooper defectors.

#fic rec #Star Wars #star wars the force awakens #swtfa #finn #stormtroopers #rey #leia organa #poe dameron #jedistormpilot #rey x finn x poe #hurt/comfort #humor #fanfiction

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hailsatin420-blog · 7 years

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STAR WARS

ok now that I have your attention I have a Star Wars blog now and you can find that right here! So if you follow me for Star Wars content I’d recommend you go check that out! I’m also gonna be posting stuff about my very gay Star Wars ocs there! ALSO I’m working on a (nsfw) fic right now so once I finish that I’ll post a link to that over there! I’m gonna queue this to post a few more times over the next couple days so anyone who’s interested can see this!

#star wars #sw #star wars fanfiction #swr #swtcw #swtfa #swtor

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streetsolo · 3 years

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Chapter 2 is out! I’m going to try to schedule each video to upload at 8 AM EST but make sure to subscribe so you get an alert every time I new video is posted. Cheers!

#a flare in the dark #signs and smoke signals #signs and smoke signals trilogy #star wars #ao3 #streetsolo #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #fanfic #fanfiction #swtfa #swtfa fanfic #swtfa fanfiction #kylo ren and reader #kylo ren x reader #audiobook #fanfic audiobook #audio fanfiction

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dangerousimagines · 7 years

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Promise (Kylo Ren x Reader)

Imagine being the significant other of Kylo Ren and being the only one who can calm him down.

A/n: I wrote this back in march, thought I’d share it with you guys!~

She stood by the entrance of the large cargo bay, her (e/c) orbs watching as First Order ships were taking off, traveling to exciting worlds and exotic places she’d never seen. A soft sigh escaped her lips as she realized that they would be places she’d never travel to in her lifetime. She wasn’t a soldier like the others found on First Order base. Merely a civilian, a guest or rather a student, of Kylo Ren. He’d found her when she was still young, just starting to come to grips with the new power she was beginning to possess. He explained what she was and offered to become her teacher. Soon after that, she was brought here, the First Order.

She had been reluctant at first but the two of them had grown close over the years. It wasn’t long before the two became lovers. She smiled at the thought of the past nights she’d spent with him. A gentle shove to her shoulder, brought her back to reality. She glared up at the General known as Hux, irritated that he’d intrupted her thoughts. He was taller than her but still shorter then Ren, which she knew irritated him. His ginger hair was groomed perfect, everything about him was always in perfect order. His eyes moved about the heavy black dress she wore. Her hair was braided tightly down the back of her head and hung loosely over her shoulder.

“You two are even dressing alike now?” He stated out loud, his eyes rolling as his arms crossed over his uniformed chest.

“What was that?” She asked, irritation clear in her voice.

“Just an observation. What are you doing down here?”

“I was exploring, this base is much larger than the last one.”

He opened his mouth, about to speak when a small explosion startled them both. They turned, fire reflecting off of the walls of the hallway as smoke traveled started to cloud the area. A pair of Storm troopers walked backwards through it, backing away from the proximity of the explosion.

Hux ground his teeth together, anger rising within him. “Ren…”

“Hey now, you don’t know that it was actually him for not,” (Y/n) stammered, moving to stand in front of the tall General.

“This is a normal occurrence, who else could be responsible?” Hux responded in an irritated tone.

“FN-2187?”

Hux stared at her, not in the mood for her games. “Thank god, he’s leaving soon,” he sighed, holding his hands behind his back as he walked away, feeling utter exhaustion.

She watched as he left, running her hand down her braid. Her eyes were focused on the hallway as more tiny explosions went off, causing other soldiers to avoid going down it. She smoothed out her dress and instructed her legs to move, bringing her down the very hall that everyone was trying so hard to avoid. She moved down the corridor slowly, following the trail of smoke and lead her to a command room.

“Ren…?” She called out, poking her head into the doorway. It was dark in the room, she guessed that the power circuits of the room were damaged from the constant abuse Kylo had inflicted on them. She squinted her eyes, trying to make out his figure in the darkness as the smoke engulfed the surroundings of the room. She stepped forward, catching him off guard. The red glow of his weapon illuminated the room and fear coursed through her as the sabre stopped inches in front of her face. Her eyes focused on his helmet, hoping that in his rage he recognized her. The light withdrew back into the handle of the weapon, his arm dropping to his side as he realized that he almost attacked the woman he cared about. It wasn’t the first time, there’d been many close calls. Because of his anger, she now adorned a scar up the length of her arm. He knew she didn’t hold him responsible but he ate at him every day. Knowing that he marred the skin of the woman he loved. He stepped back, about to withdraw from her. His anger rising within him again, this time the hatred directed at himself. He raised his hand again about to release the power from his saber when a hand reached out, covering his own.

“Ren…” She moved her small hand up, pressing it against the cold material of his helmet. “Please, calm down. For me…” She whispered, her voice soothing him as he felt the anger inside of him extinguish. She leaned up to wrap her arms around his neck, pressing her body against his. Over his shoulder, she eyed the only untouched piece of machinery in the room. A soft sigh came from her as she realized that Ren would have to endure yet another lecture from Hux.

“Forgive me…” He finally mustered out after a few moments of silence.

“I’m not angry with you, I understand that you lost control. It happens,” she reassured him, a gentle smile spread across her face as she released her arms from his neck. “Come. Let’s go back to your quarters and allow them to clean up this mess.” She watched as he looked around the command room, taking in what he’d done to it. She wished she could’ve seen his expression at that exact moment. He probably looked like a little boy, seeing the toys that he’s broken during his temper tantrum. She reached out, taking hold of his hand once again and tugging on it to pull him out of the smoky room.

She took one final glance back at the room. Hux would have a lot of paperwork to deal with after this.

Once they reached Ren’s room, she shoved him inside and pressed a button on the wall to close the room. He sat himself down on the couch in the room, putting his feet up on the end table and crossing his arms over his chest. She eyed him, watching him brood. She found herself walking over to him, plopping herself on his lap. Rising her hand, she traced a happy face over the surface of his mask as she tried to probe his defences. He wasn’t budging and it was just making her angry. She pulled the helmet from his head, watching his thick black curls fall to his shoulders. With his helmet in hand, she moved from him. “I can’t tell what you’re more angry about, that I stopped you from continuing your destructive rampage or my almost decapitation at your hands.” She felt the spike of anger from him as he listened to her words. The sides of her mouth tugged into a smirk. “Finally, a reaction.”

“Was it your goal to torment me?” He groaned, his frustration growing.

“Perhaps it was,” her smirk faded as he stood and made his way over to her. She backed up, finding herself against the wall. He took her wrists in his hands, pinning them above her head as his face came closer to her.

“You know that isn’t wise…” He whispered in her ear as he leaned down, pressing his lips against her exposed neck.

“I know…” She gasped as his teeth grazed her fragile skin.

(F/n) awoke to the sound of shuffling amongst the darkness of the room. She groaned, pulling herself to sit up. “Ren?” She called out, holding the sheet against her bare body.

“Did I wake you?”

“No,” she lied, glad that he couldn’t read her thoughts as she ran her fingers through her knotted her hair. “I didn’t know you were leaving so soon.”

“I thought I had mentioned it,” he stated nonchalantly, walking over to her.

“When will you be back?” She asked.

“Just a few days.”

“Oh alright,” she looked up at him. Noticing that his mask wasn’t on yet. “You’ll be careful right?”

He nodded and she frowned.

“Promise me, that you’ll make sure that you’ll return to me…”

He leaned down, pressing his lips against her forehead.

“I promise.”

#kylo ren #kylo ren x reader #kylo ren imagine #kylo ren fanfic #star wars #star wars the force awakens #swtfa #star wars fanfiction #star wars imagine #reader fanfiction #ben solo #fanfic #request #reader #reader insert

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kvloreu-blog · 7 years

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Send me Prompts

I wanna get back into writing so I can continue my au but man,,,,

#mod aaron #text #kylux #finnrey #finnpoe #stormpilot #darkpilot #hitaka #swtfa fanfiction #swtfa #Star Wars The Force Awakens

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southsidestory · 7 years

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A Ghtroc 690, Fully Restored

Summary: This is the Force, Rey knows, trying to draw her to Kylo Ren, but she doesn’t care about whatever greater purpose a higher power has in store for them. She hates this man, and she despises any connection they have, no matter how divine its origin. (Or: the Force ruins Rey's first vacation.)

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Reylo

Prompt: Rey and Kylo meeting up on a neutral planet and running into someone she knows from Jakku or the Resistance (other than Poe or Finn)

Notes: I wrote this gift fic for Chthonia, who expressed an interest in canonverse stories that feature “dark kylo who has a soft spot for Rey.” This piece is part of the @reylofanfictionanthology’s holiday story exchange, Ring in the New Year with Reylo. (Check out the AO3 collection for a wealth of lovely new fics!)

Because this story is set on Scarif, there are some references to Rogue One, but nothing too spoilery! However, there are MAJOR spoilers for Rey's short story in Before the Awakening, so if you have any intentions of checking that out, I wouldn't read this fic just yet. :)

Scarif is as blue as Takodana was green. Oceanic, like Ahch-To, but warm and bustling with activity, where Master Luke’s hideaway had been cold and isolated.

Rey loves this small, tropical planet, with its bright waters and dramatic history. Leia told her the story of the rogue rebels who stole the plans to the first Death Star from this place, who fought to save the galaxy from imperial subjugation.

“Without them, who knows how many worlds could have ended up like Alderaan?” Leia had said.

A blast leveled the imperial security complex and all its surroundings, but that had been decades ago, and now there’s no evidence of such destruction. Shipyards have sprung up across the planet, a Senate-mandated initiative to bring decent spacecrafts to the Outer Rim. It was a noble project, from what Rey understands, meant to provide poor, backwater worlds with better interstellar transportation—so that people like her wouldn’t be left to rot on a junkyard planet with no way to escape.

(That isn’t quite true, though, and Rey knows it. She had opportunities to leave Jakku, long before Finn showed up; she just never took them.)

A city of sorts has cropped up on the blast site, built over the ashes of an imperial base. Visiting Andor might bother her, if she was a different sort of person, but growing up on a graveyard cured her of squeamishness and superstition early on.

This planet is proof that life always continues, and Rey wants to believe in the hopefulness that it signifies. Besides, the weather is gorgeous and the food is excellent.

It’s as good a place as any for a vacation.

Stalls line the town square, the locals hocking all kinds of Scarif memorabilia, but Rey has no need for knick-knacks or souvenirs, and she isn’t interested in any Andoran wares unless she can eat them.

She stops at a cantankerous vendor’s stall and buys a fruity drink. It’s obnoxiously pink, overpriced, and tooth-rottingly sweet. Rey is slightly disappointed in herself for enjoying it so much—but only slightly. She downs it in a matter of seconds and pays for another one.

She’s still sipping on her guilty pleasure when another vendor waves at her and cries, “What a lovely girl! You should buy a necklace as pretty as you are. They’re made with real kyber crystals, just like the Jedi once used in their lightsabers—”

She hurries along, almost amused, because if that man actually has a table full of kyber crystals, then she’s a luggabeast. But something about the vendor bothers Rey too. Maybe because he spoke of the Jedi like an irrelevant thing, a relic of the past. So unworthy of respect that he had no trouble using the mystique surrounding their famous weapons to make a few quick credits.

The Jedi Order may be weakened and scattered, but it isn’t dead—despite Kylo Ren’s best efforts.

No, she won’t think of him. (Even though there’s some part of Rey, small and deeply buried, that always thinks of her enemy.)

She just wants to go home. There’s a war being waged, and she’s lounging on a tropical paradise in the Outer Rim, ten thousand light years away from anywhere relevant. Idleness has never been a vice that she could afford to indulge, and as beautiful as this world is, Rey feels useless. Wasting her time when there are important things to be done.

But Leia had told her to relax somewhere remote, far from the fighting. Her exact words had been, Go find a beach to sun yourself on, or I swear on the Force, I will order you to take a vacation.

So, here she is, on Scarif, doing nothing of consequence.

Rey doubles back to the kyber crystal vendor, buys a necklace, and loops it around her throat. If nothing else, it will give Luke a laugh when he sees it.

It’s easy enough to find swimwear at a local shop, and Rey spends all afternoon at the beach, as her general commanded. She wades through the shallows, collecting seashells of every shape and size. Wet sand squishes between her toes, somehow gritty and soft at once, and she flexes her feet just to savor the sensation. It’s childish—the sort of pointless pleasure she rarely had much time for even when she was a child—and Rey stops, feeling silly and a bit guilty. She ventures further in, until she can no longer touch the ocean floor, and starts treading water.

It’s peaceful here. Neutral ground, unmarred by this war at least, and Rey tries to appreciate having time to herself again. The Resistance, for all its good, is rarely an organization that gives her much space, and part of Rey misses the self-centered independence of her life on Jakku. She can’t be betrayed if she doesn’t trust, can’t be abandoned if she has no attachments. Being alone is better.

(Except, Rey isn’t alone, not really. Because she feels the pull toward Kylo Ren, every moment of every day. It thrums beneath her skin, lurks at the very back of her mind, a compulsion so subtle that she can almost, but not quite, ignore it. Some connection was drawn between them on Starkiller, nearly a year ago, a thread within the Force that binds Rey to her enemy, and she can’t figure out how to sever it.)

She swims until the sunny afternoon fades into dusk, then wanders back to her hotel, wearing nothing but a wrap over her swimsuit. On the way, she buys a plate piled high with fried fish and another drink from the grumpy vendor. This one is neon green, more sour than sweet, its flavor as bright as its color.

Rey is on vacation in a idyllic place, with a belly full of delicious food, and she’s (almost) alone. If she’s ever felt safer, she can’t remember it.

Someone is tailing her. Rey is three blocks away from her hotel when she realizes that she has a follower, a stranger who keeps just enough distance between them to seem innocent—but he turns when she turns, and pauses when she pauses. Like a shadow that falls thirty feet behind its owner, reflecting her movements. If he’s trying to be subtle, he’s not very good at it.

She rounds a corner into an alleyway, draws her saberstaff, and waits for her pursuer.

Rey knows, before she sees him, that it’s Kylo. She can feel him, the background trace of his presence in the Force, suddenly vivid and oppressive, as he walks closer.

So, when he steps around the corner, it doesn’t shock her to see him here; what does surprise Rey is catching him like this. Unmasked and dressed in practical, everyday clothes—an olive green shirt, brown jacket, dark pants. It’s so strange to see him this way, such a menacing creature looking almost common, that Rey freezes. For a moment, she thinks she’s mistaken an average man for her enemy, but no, his face is one-of-a-kind, unforgettable. Even more so, now that a raw, ugly scar divides his strong features.

And there’s the pull of familiarity and rightness that she feels, deep in her gut, now that she’s faced with him again. Rey has tried to ignore the odd, gnawing pain of his absence, like an itch she can’t scratch, that has left her constantly annoyed and unsatisfied for a year. Now that he’s three feet away, that pain blossoms into a bone-deep ache, and it’s somehow both soothed and exacerbated by his presence.

This is the Force, she knows, drawing them together, but Rey doesn’t care about whatever greater purpose a higher power has in store for them. She hates this man, and she despises any connection they have, no matter how powerful its origin.

Rey ignites her saberstaff, and it’s only the tug of the Force, pulsing low in her belly, that keeps her from taking off his head right then.

Kylo doesn’t draw his own lightsaber—although she sees it, a crude hilt with a distinctive crossguard, secured by a loop on his belt. Instead, he holds up his hands, and says, “I don’t want to fight.”

Rey keeps a steady grip on her saberstaff. “Of course not. You just want to knock me out and drag me back to your master. Make an apprentice out of me.”

Kylo gives a half-nod, like honesty (as if he possesses any of that) urges him acknowledge the truth of her accusation. “I do want to teach you, but I see now that you can’t be bullied into becoming my student.”

He sounds genuine, and his dark eyes shine with sincerity. Still, Rey knows better than to believe any claim of Kylo Ren’s. “What are you doing here?” she asks.

“Risking my life, apparently,” he says, looking pointedly at her lit saberstaff.

Then Kylo smirks, and Rey feels an uncomfortable lurch of deja vu: it’s the same expression he wore when he interrogated her, that brief flicker of a smile as he’d taunted her.

“Give me a straight answer, or I’ll kill you,” Rey says.

“I’ve been looking for you since Starkiller,” he says, in a rush, a confession he can’t seem to hold back for another moment. “There’s something between us. The Force, driving us toward each other—”

“You’re crazy,” Rey says, but her hands are shaking on her saberstaff, and she doesn’t want to fight anymore. She wants to run, far away, and never face Kylo again, because she can feel what he feels (a turbulent mess of emotions, fear and anger, guilt and yearning—yearning for her—overwhelming in intensity) and Rey can’t stand it.

She didn’t ask for this, she didn’t seek it out, and she doesn’t want it.

“It’s no good to lie,” he says. “I can feel you trying to push it down, but you can’t. Neither can I.”

Don’t be afraid, he’d said, back on Starkiller, and she knows now that he meant of this, the connection forged between them.

Rey has never been more afraid in her life.

If Kylo chooses to draw his lightsaber now, she’s a dead woman. There’s too much—she’s being suffocated, surrounded, overcome, by the storm of pure feeling inside of him.

The light of her saberstaff extinguishes, and without its golden glow, the alleyway is plunged into darkness.

Rey runs, and she hopes that Kylo doesn’t follow.

There is no moon on Scarif. A thousand stars stipple the black sky, looking down on Andor’s beach, but without moonlight their shine seems wan, the darkness impossibly deep.

Rey sits in the sand, legs outstretched so that the cold reach of the surf laps at her feet. Waves draw out, then roll in, the rhythms of the sea gentle, slow, predictable.

If Kylo wasn’t looming behind her, unwanted and uninvited, she might find peace in the soothing brush of water on her skin.

“If you insist on following me, you might as well sit down,” Rey says.

She tries to sound nonchalant and brave, but he sees right through her. Rey knows, because she can feel him looking underneath her facade, brushing away her counterfeit courage to unearth the fear that lurks below.

It’s nothing like what he did to her on Starkiller. There’s the same shocking intrusion of another person’s presence in her own mind, but Kylo’s interrogation was invasive and painful—a violent battle between his will and hers—and this doesn’t hurt at all. It’s intimate, more like a dance than anything else.

He sits next to her, his broad body spare inches away, and Rey shudders at the sensation. Their emotions tangle together: his anxiety exacerbates her own, her fear inflames his guilt, their mutual desire (to draw closer, to touch) grows greater as they recognize it within each other.

I need him—

I need her—

Somehow it’s all twisted together and reflected back on itself. Mirrors facing each other, spawning infinite reflections, swallowing them whole—

Kylo takes her hand, and Rey gasps.

She sees everything he’s buried, everything he tries so hard to hide, and she can sense him dissecting her secrets just as thoroughly in turn.

It’s terrifying, but order comes through the insight. With one touch, their minds become entwined in concert rather than chaos, and Rey nearly cries from relief.

“What’s happening to us?” she asks.

He squeezes her hand, holding on too hard—

Kylo’s grip softens. I always hurt her, even when I don’t mean to.

He regrets the pain he’s caused her, and no matter how little she wants to, Rey finds herself leaning toward forgiveness. But there isn’t a creature in the galaxy that deserves compassion less than this one, and she won’t let the Force coerce her into offering absolution he hasn’t earned.

Compassion is the foundation of the light side, Kylo thinks. Shouldn’t that be easy for you?

“Stop it,” Rey says.

“Stop thinking?” Kylo asks. “That should be easy.”

His sarcasm reminds her of Han, and they both flinch from that thought.

Rey recovers first, and she says, “It shouldn’t be so different from the way you usually operate.”

Kylo may be powerful, but he’s unfocused, heedless, impulsive. A temperamental mess, really.

He leans down, until he’s bowed low enough to whisper in her ear. “You like the way I am, and that bothers you. You wish you could still dismiss me as a monster, but I’m too real to you for that now. Too close.”

Rey shivers. Unmasked, his voice is smooth, his speech resonant and round. As deceptively beautiful as the rest of him.

He laughs, a soft sound that brings butterflies flickering to life in her belly. “Don’t be embarrassed,” he says. “I thought you were beautiful the first time I saw you.”

It’s true; he did. She sees herself through his eyes, as he remembers their meeting on Takodana. A desert girl frozen in the middle of a green forest, dirty and disheveled, but so vibrant, so strong.

Rey says, “I don’t care,” and rips her hand out of Kylo’s grasp.

She prays that the bond between them will weaken, even if it dissolves into a messy conflux of mixed minds. But breaking contact doesn’t change anything; they’re still tethered together. Connected with perfect, profound synchronicity.

It seems foolish to send him away. Kylo will still be in her head, no matter how much space she puts between them. Besides, it’s best if she keeps a close watch on him. Getting a front row seat to this man’s troubled mind has only given Rey more reason to mistrust him, not less.

“Well I don’t trust you either,” Kylo says, so waspishly that Rey can’t help but smile.

Outside, surrounded by the heat of a tropical night, Rey had almost forgotten how little she was wearing. Now, back in the climate-controlled cool of her hotel room, she feels naked in her swimsuit and wrap.

It doesn’t help that she knows exactly what Kylo is thinking right now.

“You’re sleeping on the floor,” she says.

He kicks off his shoes and stretches out beside her bed, using his jacket as a pillow.

It surprises Rey, how obedient he can be, this hateful creature who once hunted her across the galaxy.

She goes to the ‘fresher, showers off the sand and salt from a day at the beach, and pulls on her most covering sleepwear. Not that it much matters now; Rey could cover herself from head to toe, and she’d still be vulnerable, exposed.

She crawls into bed and burrows beneath the covers, seeking out warmth, privacy. It’s too clean, too soft, and she can’t relax.

Kylo isn’t asleep either. He lies on his side, curled away from her, shivering.

If she’d been thinking practically, Rey would have taken the floor, but the principle of the thing stopped her. Forfeiting her bed to an enemy? She might as well shine his boots and cook him breakfast in the morning. Spite overruled pragmatism, and now she’s not going to get a wink of sleep.

“I don’t want the bed,” Kylo says. “It would be as wasted on me as it is on you.”

Because he doesn’t sleep. She sees, as plainly as if these moments had happened to her, that Kylo grabs catnaps on his bedroom floor, or in his living room armchair, then uses his frustration to fuel his powers through the Force. He forges exhaustion into anger, anger into energy.

“That’s awful,” Rey says, without quite meaning to. Then she shakes her head. “Sorry, I didn’t meant to—this isn’t my business—”

“It’s fine,” he says. “My mind has never been a private place, and—well, at least with you it doesn’t hurt. So look all you like.”

Rey has been doing her best to resist rifling through his past, picking apart personal moments, but when he offers himself up like this, how can she resist?

For the first time since he took her hand on the beach, Rey stops trying to block the flood of feelings that spill through their connection. She lets herself reach, touch, witness.

So much pain and fear, loneliness and guilt. So many restless nights. He wishes he were stronger, that he could live up to the legacy of Darth Vader. Violence dispels his weakness, and it’s always been easy to lash out. To cling to rage so that he doesn’t have to feel anything else.

There’s so much that Kylo regrets—Han most of all—but it doesn’t stop him from keeping to the path he’s chosen. (Because it’s too late, and he doesn’t deserve any better. Because inflicting pain is all he’s even been any good at, or good for.) He prays to go home, even though he no longer has a home to return to.

He wants to kill everyone who has ever hurt him. He wants to die.

“Do you feel like this all the time?” Rey asks.

There’s a long quiet, heavy with his shame, before he finally whispers, “Yes.”

“No wonder you’re such a wreck.”

It’s in Rey’s nature to fix broken things, and she wonders what it might take to put the pieces of this ruined man back together. If it would be possible at all. If he even wants to heal.

Kylo laughs. “I’m not a busted ship that needs repairs.”

“No, and it’s not my job to salvage you anyway.”

Rey has no obligation to Kylo, not even if the Force wills it. It isn’t that she feels compelled to help him. She simply wants to, and that’s even more terrifying.

Rey tosses a pillow at him.

She can’t see it, but Rey knows he’s smiling. “You only threw this pillow so I’d have one to sleep on.”

He’s right, and Rey hadn’t even realized her own intentions until he pointed them out.

Kylo Ren is not a good man.

He’s sorry for hurting her, not because he acknowledges the evil of his actions, but because he considers her different. Kylo thinks that Rey deserves special treatment, that she should be exempt from the violence he inflicts on everyone else. (Because he wants her; because the Force has bound them together; because she’s his.)

“I’m not yours,” Rey says.

They’re lying on the floor, buried in a nest of blankets and pillows. Awake, close—too close—yet not touching. Dawn light spills through the windows, weak and pale, but bright enough for her to see Kylo scowl. He doesn’t answer.

“This thing between us—whatever it is, wherever it came from—it doesn’t mean I belong to you,” Rey says. “I don’t belong to anyone.”

She sits up and runs a hand through her loose hair, still damp from last night’s shower, and pulls it into three buns. It’s a movement that comes as naturally to her as lightsaber forms, as dissecting old droids. Perfect efficiency borne from endless, repetitive practice.

Rey freezes when she feels Kylo caressing the nape of her neck, those strong fingers sliding down, down, beneath the collar of her shirt, until he touches the dip between her shoulder blades.

“Not yet,” Kylo murmurs. “But we’ll belong to each other soon. Can’t you feel it?”

It feels so good, the strength of his blunt fingers brushing her skin, and Rey wishes he would touch her elsewhere (everywhere).

Then his breath fans against her throat, warm and damp when Kylo says, “If you want.”

“I don’t,” Rey says.

If Kylo catches this lie, he at least has the grace not to mention it.

They spend the entirety of Rey’s second vacation day curled up on the floor, nestled close in that pile of fluffy pillows and warm blankets. They leave only to use the ‘fresher or order food.

Kylo has no reservations about asking for the most expensive things on the menu, and when Rey grumbles that he’s going to cost her every credit she has, he looks at her like she’s foolish.

“Why bother paying?”

Rey smacks him across his broad chest. “Because I’m not a thief, you dimwit.”

He catches her hand before she can withdraw it. Keeps it held close against his bare skin, over his heart. Taking off his shirt was a clumsy attempt at seduction, but Rey can’t muster up the proper derision for this strategy, because it might be working.

He’s beautiful, and here, and with their minds melded like this, Rey can see all of the dark, frightened corners of his soul. Every vulnerability, every scrap of humanity hidden beneath the monster’s mask.

By the third day, they disentangle themselves from one another, and Rey insists that they leave the hotel. They need to talk, and if they stay cloistered in her room, that’s never going to happen.

She takes Kylo to the crystal vendor, simply to see him sneer at the fake wares. His annoyance is funny, for a moment—until he imagines igniting his lightsaber and showing the charlatan what a real kyber crystal is capable of. Then it’s not so amusing anymore.

“He’s harmless,” Rey says, as she pulls Kylo away from the vendor, dragging him deep into the midday tourist crowd.

“He’s a disrespectful fraud who’s profiting from a legacy that isn’t his,” Kylo says, but he’s growing calmer now, the longer her hand clings to his jacket sleeve. Steadying him, tugging him, step by careful step, away from slaughter.

I shouldn’t have to keep him on a leash, Rey thinks.

By the time they find a quiet place on the beach, she’s in a foul mood, and Rey’s determination to talk has wavered.

She has good reason not to trust Kylo, even if she disregards her personal grievances against him. Abandonment and more betrayals than she can count have taught her how precarious it is to put your faith in anyone besides yourself.

She thinks of her parents, leaving her to fight for survival on a starship graveyard. Plutt’s thugs, who beat her half to death over a deal that went sour. The other scavengers, sabotaging rivals and partners alike, to ensure their own own best interests—Devi and Strunk, most of all, because they took so much from her.

“What did they steal from you?” Kylo asks.

His voice is harder and less forgiving than she’s ever heard it before. Rey can feel his fury sparking to violent life again, with far more power and purpose than when he considered maiming the crystal vendor.

“A Ghtroc 690, fully restored,” Rey says. Then she feels foolish for giving such a plain answer, because how can he possibly understand what that ship meant to her? Its cost has been so high; she starved for the better part of a year, hoarding the choicest scavenged pieces for her broken-down freighter, instead of trading them for portions.

And just when she’d started to believe that Devi and Strunk might be trustworthy—that she had perhaps made friends for the first time in her life—they’d double-crossed her. Stole the ship she’d found and rebuilt alongside them. They exploited Rey’s hard labor and begrudging goodwill, then flew away in the prize she’d sacrificed so much for.

The worst part wasn’t the food she’d lost, nor the work she’d wasted. No, the worst part was being left behind. Abandoned again.

“I know it sounds stupid, but when they stole that ship, they took away the only thing I’d ever felt any pride in, the only thing that gave me any hope for change,” Rey whispers.

Kylo pulls her into his arms and presses a kiss to her temple. “You’re the strongest person I’ve ever met. You have much more to take pride in than repairing a ship.”

Rey could cry, because he means every word, and what does it say about her, that a man like this is the first to love her so wholly and without reservation?

She rests her head against his shoulder, breathing in the warm, masculine smell that clings to his skin.

“I can’t take you back to the Resistance,” Rey says. “You’re not ready to leave your master, and you wouldn’t cooperate.”

Kylo’s arms tighten around her, then he says against her hair, “You’d never agree to go with me either. You’d rather die than betray the people you love.”

His deep voice, his scent, the heat of his strong body—it’s all too close, and she drags herself away, seeking cleaner air and clearer thoughts.

“We’re at a stalemate, then,” Rey says.

“Maybe not.” Kylo cups her face between his hands, makes her face him. For a moment, she thinks—she hopes—that he’s going to kiss her.

Instead, he says, “Run away with me.”

Rey doesn’t say yes, because that would be an outlandish, irresponsible thing to do. But the temptation is too great to ignore, so she also doesn’t say no. Really, what other choices do they have? No matter where they go, they’ll still be connected, and if Kylo chooses to hunt her down, he’ll have all he needs to find her again.

They spend the rest of the week doing simple things, as if they’re nothing more than tourists, whiling away their vacation on this remote, utopian planet. Everything they do, they do together, and at the end of each day, they fall asleep on the floor, tangled up in soft blankets and each other’s bodies.

At night, Kylo wants to kiss her, caress her, make love to her, and Rey wants to let him.

Sometimes he’ll picture all the things he wants to do to her, and wordlessly invite her to witness his imaginings. Sometimes Rey does the same, until Kylo has to turn away from her, breathing hard and trembling.

It’s not his sexual fantasies that frighten her, though; it’s the things he thinks, right as he’s drifting off to sleep, when his mind is at its most open and vulnerable.

Kylo dreams of a life far from the First Order or the Resistance. They could become simple people and hide on a green planet (green, for Rey, because it’s her favorite color). Maybe they’ll raise crops, or a handful of children, or both.

When Rey falls asleep, she dreams Kylo Ren’s dreams.

Here on Scarif, they’ve been lost in their own little world, and Rey doesn’t understand what a mistake she’s made by allowing this until Kylo reminds her of his true nature.

They’re passing a mechanic’s bay when he stops, freezes, and stares at a ship. An old rustbucket freighter with a piss-poor paint job. The kind of garbage that Rey wouldn’t have looked at twice, except—it’s a Ghtroc 690. Her Ghtroc 690, the very one that Devi and Strunk stole from her on Jakku.

She’s too stunned to move, frozen in place by the pain of a wound she’d never quite healed from. Kylo strides forward, rushing ahead with his lightsaber drawn, and it’s only when that unstable plasma blade sparks to life, hissing its fury, that Rey sees Devi and Strunk, their backs turned to the dark knight behind them.

Run! she means to shout. Get out of here!

But Rey hates Devi and Strunk, and with Kylo’s rage coursing through her, she can’t bring herself to give a warning cry.

It’s over quickly, at least. He takes off Strunk’s head first, and when Devi turns to her lover, mouth open on a scream that she never has the time to voice, Kylo cuts her cleanly in half.

They flee Scarif on the Millennium Falcon, and Rey doesn’t say one word to Kylo until they’re in hyperspace, speeding away from the site of his latest crime.

“This is what you imagined for years,” he says, and there’s a plaintive note to his voice. “This is what you wanted.”

He’s more wrong than he can understand, yet still horrifyingly right.

“You were too afraid to hurt them, so I did it for you,” Kylo says.

Rey doesn’t know what to do. She doesn’t want to stay with this man, because he brings out the worst in her, but running from him will endanger the Resistance. He’ll only go back to his master, armed with all the secrets he’s gleaned from her mind, and turn the full power of the First Order against her loved ones (Leia, Poe, BB-8, and Finn—Finn above all others).

Rey can’t abandon Kylo, because the Force has pushed her into a neat little corner from which there is no escape.

When Rey finally speaks, all that she can bring herself to say is, “You’re sick. Disgusting.”

“I was just—I only meant to help.” He sounds so young, almost childish. Contrite, but only because he’s been caught in his wrongdoing.

Kylo Ren is not a good man, and it isn’t that she forgot this so much as she chose to ignore it. Now they’re bound, entangled together through the Force, whether for good or ill, and Rey can’t find a way to free herself.

#reylo #reylo fanfiction #swtfa fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #ring in the reylo #my fanfiction #oneshot #a ghtroc 690 fully restored

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