“This ain't for the best, my reputations never been worse so you must like me for me.”
warning: reputation involves the mention of; underage drinking, underage drug usage, minor labor in a sex shop (human trafficking/sex trafficking), possible mentions of rape and or abuse. It explicitly includes: sex, alcoholism, drug addiction, gambling, sex work, self destruction. As well as psychological and medical issues & topics: depression, eating disorders, anxiety attacks, seizures, panic attacks, attempted suicide & more.
Because of that, I’d suggest this story to be at LEAST 18+. You are responsible for your own internet consumption.
{playlist}
{reputation}
{kylo’s moodboard}
{readers moodboard}
1. Sex and Spice {5/1/26}
2. You’re the One Who Says It, Not Me {5/4/26}
3. VIP {5/8/26}
4. I’ve Never Felt So High {5/11/26}
5. Sweethearts Suicide {5/15/26}
6. You Talk About Dying Like A Game {5/18/26}
7. You Fight Dirty {5/22/26}
8. Prison Blues {5/25/26}
9. Delusions of Grandeur {5/29/26}
10. Don’t Bite The Hand That Fingers You {6/1/26}
11. I’m Dirty Dancing, Moulin Rouge {6/5/26}
12. I Rose Up From The Dead (I Do It All The Time) {6/9/26}
REPUTATION will be going on pause for the rest of the month while I play catch up… I’m going on vacation for a whole week + I’m a dance teacher and recital literally lasts for a whole other week as soon as I get back so I’ll be back in July!!
If you really want to hide from someone, you don't go to a planet they've never been to, it's rather obvious you'd go somewhere they'd never been, never heard of, in fact, you want to go to a place where they have been before. A place they know you know, it's less obvious. because the hell would I ever want to go to back to the same place Kylo Ren saved me from?
The planet was called Codia. Sometimes people forget that's the actual name of the planet because people just call it Gloss, it's most known for the infamous club. Smuggler hide in this club, people die, people disappear, people come here to the Outer Rim to forget. I on the other hand am here to hide. Not just to hide but someone's been following me, someone who isn't Kylo Ren and the First Order.
I'm dancing under flickering lights of neon pinks, blues, greens, orange. The air smells like alcohol, sweat, and the faint scent of Glitterstim. I go by Lira for now, no last name, or background origin. Just me, here now, a wig of new hair, a few ear piercings and I look totally different from the person I was when I last saw Kylo Ren. In fact he doesn't even matter to me anymore. The First Order caught me two times since I left him. Both time I've slipped through their greasy little fingers, but it cost me. Connections, credits, cargo, and a sickening blaster burn along the ridge of my ribs that still aches whenever I breathe too deeply or too fast. So I'm lying low and waiting for the burn to heal so I can get back to work. Dancing. I take clients into the back when my credits are running extra low, putting on performances, letting their teeth and nails sink into my skin without a second thought. It's familiar and empty. Safe. I'm halfway through my set when I see him, not in the crowd, not the shadows but on screen. A holo screen at the bar displays his face, no mask. It's probably about how his master was murdered. He's blaming it on some girl named Rey, Resistance freak who's supposedly force sensitive or whatever. But I know the truth, I've known the truth since he first sunk the blade into his masters stomach from thirty feet away.
His mouth moves in a silent repetition, probably about curfews and smuggling and new First Order rules he's decided on. I ignore it and focus on myself again. The pole, the way that my dress sticks to my skin. It's hardly a dress, more so a thin thong and long beaded diamonds that curl across my chest, barely covering my nipples. Sometimes you have to get a lot to get some back. I have never been shy about my body, but that doesn't particularly mean I like it. A few have tried to bother me about it, none of them went back to their ship in one piece after I was done with them.
After I was finished with my dance, a different girl replaced me on stage while I went out onto the floor, conversing with desperate men, human and alien. I take on the next client. One hour, 500 credits for sex. He's handsome, human, dark hair, clean shaven, the kind of confidence that doesn't belong in a place like this. He's one of the rich ones, the ones who own big business like creating ship models or housing structures on harsh planets. Probably both by the looks of him. 500 credits is good enough for this next month's rent alone, plus he's handsome enough to forget the other faces that haunt my past for even a little while. I lead him to the back room, a lock on the inside, a couch, a bed, sanitizer, condoms, it's all stocked up. The music muffles after I shut the door behind us, turning the lock. To some it may be unsafe, but if someone were to walk in on this I could lose a lot of revenue, someone else could hurt me to, at least like this it's one on one and I highly doubt this scrawny piece of shit's gonna get the drop on me.
"What's your name?" I ask, sitting down on the couch, tucking my knees under my body and facing sideways as he sits beside me. "I'm Lira." I introduced myself politely. When he smiles it doesn't reach his eyes, but I don't pay attention to it much. Most of them look at me with beady, greedy little eyes so nothing feels less invasive. "Cyrus." he stares right into my eyes, he reaches into his pocket and I freeze, darting my eyes down to watch him. He pulls out a credit chip, not a blaster, not a knife. I let out a short breath of relief. I'm not in the mood to kill anyone today. I haven't been in the mood for much recently. "Pleasure to meet you Lira, I hear you're the best they've got." I nodded enthusiastically. "Yeah. I started here and left for a while, thought I deserved something better but I know girls like me are made for this lifestyle." he leans forward and sets the chip down on the table. "Right. You've been back for two months now? And before that... Let's just say you left quite a mess behind you."
My blood runs cold.
My smile doesn't vanish.
"I'm sorry. I don't understand." my heartbeat picks up a little. I make myself sound light, confused. "I moved back here from the Inner Rim. Yes, I left some strings attached but my work is here now. I like my work more unconventional." I offered, trying to settle the tension. I shrugged afterward, up, then a quick drop down. I can play the part of a naive dancer perfectly. However he knows more than he says. Cyrus watches me for a moment then his hand reaches out, pressing against my knee. His skin is warm, clammy. He definitely is a business man, because he's sweating and nervous, but his face says otherwise. His free hand reaches into his coat a second time and I shift on the couch however the hand on my knee presses me down further, not wanting me to move.
He pulls out a holoprojector. I watch him with unease as he too sets it down on the table. He taps it and my face appears in a blur of blue light. Bounty.
I look back up at him, his smile is sinister and smooth. my stomach churns. "Unconventional... But not unknown.." he deactivates the holoprojector, slipping it back inside his pocket. "Let's skip the performance y/n. Or Lira. Whatever you're calling yourself today." he grimy little fingers tighten around my knee. "I'm not here to arrest you, I'm here to make you an offer." he gestures to the credit chip on the table. "Five hundred now, five thousand more if you listen." he watches me for a moment. I cannot leave because he could kill me or just bring me in without a second thought. "Good. All you've got to do is tell me one thing." I swallow, my throat dry and parched. My breathing quickens slightly. I don't know this guy, I don't know what he wants or who he's working for.
"Where is Kylo Ren?"
I blink in surprise. "Kylo... Kylo Ren. Supreme Leader Kylo Ren? I had nothing to do with him." Cyrus tsks at me and waves a finger at my tauntingly. "I think we both know that's not true sweetheart."
"Well I couldn't tell you even if I wanted to. He's in a ugly giant ship, orbiting the galaxy somewhere which isn't here. I'm sure you'll find someone else that'll gladly lead you to the Supreme Leader, but I for am not entertaining such foolishness. Now if you'll please excuse me." I stand up, attempting to get away from this mess. I don't know who he is or what he wants to do with me, probably bring me in since there's a bounty on my head, maybe kill Kylo. I don't know who he's working for and I don't want to find out. I need to get off this damn planet.
I barely step around the table before a hand wraps around my wrist and pulls me back in. My chest meets Cyrus' and I jump in surprise. I haven't been handled like this in... Well since yesterday, but this isn't about sex or drugs. This is about fear.
The glare in his eye is real, devoid of any emotion other than pure hatred. "Don't make me hurt you." his words send a sharp chill down my spine, goosebumps erupting all over my skin. I really do need to get the fuck out of here. "Get off." I barked, my hand wrapped around his wrist, trying to yank him off me, he didn't like that very much. One second we were standing against the couch and the next I'm literally being thrown across the room. His hands pressed against my shoulders, shoving me backward with, what felt like, all his strength. My back slammed against the wall, my head cracked against it, and then I crumpled to the floor. "Stop-" I gasped, that he didn't like either. "I won't stop." he walked towardly me quickly, I could barely see him through my swimming vision. I felt a trickle of something warm and wet glide down the back of my neck. Blood I assume. His hand wrapped around my throat making me stand. "Up slut." he grinned, yanking me off my feet. He made me stand a few inches taller, making my toes dangle almost helplessly against the floor. I think I seriously underestimated the strength of this guy. Or maybe he's one of those weirdos who takes those strength enhancing spices.
My oxygen was running low and the blurriness began to seep into darkness. "He's... Not here." I manage to mutter weakly, trying with the last bit of energy I had to claw away from him yet I was no match, not like this, not out of practice.
Just as the edges of my vision began to blank entirely, I could hear him speaking. Low, deep, angry. And then a noise came, almost like the door opening but that's impossible because I locked it from the inside. "But that's impossible, you're-" Cyrus starts to speak, but unfortunately for him he can't. A sickeningly wet crack, and then his body crumples on top of mine. I shove his body off, sucking in deep breaths of air. I can still feel the ghost of his skin on mine, the way his breath smelled like cheap whiskey and smoke. I crawl until I'm completely hidden by the bed. The silence on the other side is loud. I didn't have a chance to get a look at my savior, but by Cyrus' last words, whoever it is, couldn't have been good. The sound of boots against the steel floor makes my stomach churn. I really am not alone, and Cyrus couldn't have just snapped his neck without someone else being there, and there wasn't anyone else in the room with us, or near us. I make a quick dash from behind the bed to the back of the couch, pressing myself against the backrest, my heart hammers against my ribs in my chest like it's trying to beat out.
I make a second, and hopefully final mad dash toward the door from behind my spot near the couch. The metal door slides shut in front of me, disconnecting my view of freedom and locking me in with a murderer and dead body in here. I pound my fists against the wall, trying to put in the code but the door doesn't budge, almost like there's a secondary force holding it shut. I reach down into my boot for my knife. Now that I'm ready, I have a much better chance at fighting. Yet, the world hates me today because my boot is empty. "Looking for this?"
I whirl around and face the figure, the murderer behind me. My knife in one glove hand, the other held open to me, and the face in between them belonging to the infamous Kylo Ren. He rolls the blade between his fingers with disgusting ease. "Cyrus Vane. Former Imperial Intelligence. Now a freelance information broker. He was hired to find you, bring you back to some rich piece of shit for his sexual benefit. You were supposed to tell him where I was, and then he was going to hire people to kill me. It wouldn't have worked, he'd have died anyway, but thank you for leading me into this and saving myself the time and energy."
He walks closer as he speaks until I'm in between him and the door with no where else to go. "How did you find me?" I whispered, eyes shining with unshed tears. He wasn't supposed to find me. "You called out for me days ago. I was plagued with visions of you and other men, women, old men and women, aliens I had never even heard of. Didn't know you swung that way sweetheart."
"I didn't call out to you. In fact I did the opposite, I haven't thought of you at all." I shook my head. I know it was true, I did everything in my power to forget about him. Drinking, drugs, focusing on my work, keeping my head down and my mouth lower. I would have never wanted him to find me, not like this, not at ever. "No, I think you did. Whether you meant it or not isn't your fault. Let's see.. I think it was with a man named Elio where you just couldn't cum, could you?" my cheeks burn with embarrassment. Literally, how? Actually, no I don't want to know how he even knows about any of this. I did in fact sleep with a man named Elio. And he did in fact not make me cum, but men like that never cared about a woman's pleasure as long as they got it out of their systems.
"You poor thing. You're probably all pent up huh." he coos, mockingly sweet. A gloved pointer finger reaches up and brush the hair back behind my ear, and traces the line down my jaw, down my neck, down between my breasts where the diamonds meet up in short slanting drapery. "You should go," he speaks up, finally pulling his hand back. "Before I forget what control looks like. before someone comes looking for him." he gestures toward the door that's still closed tight. "You killed him? What? What do you care what he does to me?" I asked softly, voice hoarse from the choking I just lived through not to long ago. I was sure his grip would leave bruising, or even long lasting pain. Kylo was silent for a moment. "Because he was going to sell you off into sexual slavery. Because he was going to try and kill me."
And the mask, sits across his face, hiding his features, hiding him from me. Not that it ever mattered much, this thing we have can't last. He's a Supreme Leader, I'm just a slut. I can't help but be grateful though. Despite the fact I sell my body, sexual slavery isn't anything any person or alien should ever be brought into. It's dehumanizing, disgusting. "You think I don't care? You think I tracked you across three sectors, killed a man because I don't care?" his modulator crackles, like a sigh. "You can go." says again, yet still, neither of us make a move. Every bone in my body is screaming at me. Just move one foot and then the other, get off this planet, get far away from Kylo yet I still stand stationary in front of him.
"Or.. We could go together." Kylo speaks softly, his modulator making it sound choppy, but I heard him through it anyway, I know what he meant. "I work here Ren. I can't just leave."
"You're a dancer in a backwater cantina. You think that's a life?" he scoffs. "It's my life. It's rent. It's food. It's not being hunted or the hunter anymore." I pointed at myself. As much as Kylo thinks I'm this project, this good girl who he can change and fix. I am this lifestyle. I am drinking and drugs and parties and sex. That won't ever change, but he's really trying to get me to be this person I'm not. I never asked him to change me, I just wanted to be left alone. His head shakes back and forth, like he can't understand what he's hearing, like I'm speaking a different language and maybe I am. "You're being hunted anyway. Cyrus found you. Others will too." he gestures a gloved hand toward the body. "This is what happens when you stay in one place too long." his pointed hand cups the back of my head then pulls away, showing me the crimson staining his hand. "And you're bleeding. You need a real doctor, one that I can get." The red fractures along his mask shimmer in the neon lighting. He doesn't even realize how much he'd fit in, in a place like this. "I have a ship. Fast, untraceable. You could disappear. Really disappear."
Disappear? Who does he think I am, a fucking magician?
"Not as a prisoner, not indebted to me, not as a fucking client. As someone who just walks away, lives a peaceful life."
Peaceful? When have I ever told him I wanted a peaceful life. I love the glitz and the glam, the showgirl outfits. It might not make me feel the best but it's better than being a fucking farmer twiddling my thumbs. The offer does hang between us like a lifeline. "If I say no you're going to carry me out of here, aren't you?"
He doesn't nod, doesn't move. But the silence already tells me everything I need to know. I don't think I have a choice this time. "Fine. But I don't wanna be dropped off on some remote planet only you know of. I'll stay on the Finalizer, with you, no where else. Do I make myself clear?"
The mask shifts down one time. A yes. I try and swallow my own excitement. I am so getting fucked tonight. I haven't had a real orgasm in weeks. "Pick me up from my place in an hour. It's room four, right above this shithole. I have to pack and remove any trace of my life here. Okay?"
Kylo nods again. "One hour. I won't be late." he brushes past me, a glove reaching out, the door behind me glides open smoothly. "If you're not there I'll assume you've changed your mind. I won't come looking again." then he's gone, the door sliding shut separating us from each other.
He is quicker. The hand at the back of my neck raises and my fist collides with the palm of his hand like a magnetic pull. His long fingers wrap around my hand, so much smaller than his. He twists me in his hold. My body twists until my hand rests against my back, trapped in his fist, his hand around my throat the entire time. It doesn't cut off my breathing, but there's a slight daze there from the mild pressure. He's so controlling of everything, even his own strength. My other hand comes up to try and smack him- just in case he has those cuffs again because I swear I will never be in another pair of cuffs again or so help me-
Kylo pushes me down against the bed so I'm bent over the edge. I squeal as I feel like I'm falling. His body follows mine. My legs kick and push at the ground below me in an attempt at getting away. He hoists my body up a little further on his own and the ground comes away from my feet. I still kick and squeal, my feet his the backs of his thighs. This mother fucking is large. He eases the pressure on my back just a bit as his right hand wraps around the hair at the base of my scalp, his other hand, left, wraps around my neck and tilts my head back so his mouth presses against my ear. "Settle down." he all but growls. His voice is a deep murmur, like someone trying to calm an enraged animal. "You want a fight? We can fight." he loosens his grip on my hair just enough that I could turn my head. "Me. Not your past, not your addiction. Fight me, here, now." I turn my head to glare at him. "Your choice." he offers.
I purse my lips in an attempt to spit, to distract, to get him off so I can leave.
Instead, he does something I'd have never expected. He slides two fingers past my lips, settling on my tongue. I let out a choked coughed, brain seeming to rewire. How could he just...
Without thinking, my teeth sink into the gloves separating his fingers from my tongue. They taste like ash and leather and my own spit. It's a little addicting. I've had his fingers in my mouth before, but never with the gloves on. It's a complete shock to my system and I'm sure like he wanted, my whole body goes still for a moment, teeth digging into his gloves. They're too thick to do any real damage or even hurt him at all, but I hope it sends a message. "Good." he murmurs, his voice low against my ear. He doesn't remove his fingers, he settles the two a little deeper making me gasp and then choke again. "You want to hate me? Hate me. You want to bite me, bite me, fight me, I don't care! Just do it sober. Do it here." his thumb strokes my cheek and my eyes flutter shut for a moment, unsure of what else to do with myself.
Slowly he with drawls his fingers and wipes the spit off on his bed. I'm on his sheets. He releases my hair but doesn't life his weight off me. "Your turn. Talk or don't. But choose quickly."
I take a few deep breaths, trying to reorganize my thinking which he's completely disrupted. "I uhm.. I'm sober right now. Can't tell you how long I will be once I leave." I tell him once I finally find my voice. It's shaky and uneven but mind, stripped of any haze or daze. "I know. That's why I'm asking you to stay." he releases the pressure of his body and extends a hand to help me up. I take it, letting myself be pulled upright. I sit on the bed and face him, watching as he pulls away and paces across the expanse of his bedroom. "You think I don't know what it's like to be clear for a moment and know it won't last? To feel everything rushing back in." his shakes his head, wild waves in a flurry. "I live there y/n, every day the silence is worse than the noise." he stops when he gets to his desk, placing his gloved hands on the desk firmly. His head bows down. "Stay tonight. Sober. With me, not because I'm ordering you but because I want you to. Because you want to be here too."
For a moment I can't say anything. He really has changed. Grown soft and weak. Everyday I expect him to change, become the Kylo Ren he was supposed to be, the one I want. "You disappointed me Ren." I start off, strength returns to my legs and I stand to my full height, I watch his shoulders roll and tense up. "Snoke was right about you. You'll never be a good Supreme Leader because you're still in your head about life. About me, people who don't matter. Grow up, do some maturing, then we'll talk." my feet move, carrying me around his bed towards the closet where I dropped my clothes. I can hear Kylo's boots against the floor but I'm too afraid to face him.
His gloved hand wraps around my wrist and yanks me back until my chest collides with his. I have to tilt my head to be able to meet his eyes. "Snoke was wrong about everything." his voice is low and rough, that permanent glower in his eyes sending a chill through my spin. There he is. "He wanted me to be a weapon. To feel nothing. But I feel everything..." his other hand settles on the small of my back, right over my spine. "And I want you." possession. "You want me to grow up? Fine. I'm growing up right now. I admitted that I need you, that I want you. I'm terrified of losing you, especially to yourself. But I would rather have you hate me for life sober than love me high."
"There's nothing here!" I shouted, all my anger shooting out of me like a blaster. I press my hands on his chest and shove as hard as I could. He didn't budge even an inch. "There's nothing here, Ren! I came up here to get laid! I do not feel anything for you. Why won't you believe me? Even if I could feel anything, it's not possible for us!" I don't tell it to but my voice cracks, small and almost incoherent but I felt it in my chest. "You're right. It's not possible. You're a smuggler, I'm a war criminal. You run from everything I destroy everything I touch." his hand on my wrist slides all the way up my arm, my neck and cup my cheek leaving goosebumps in its wake. "But impossibility has never stopped us before... When I see you I forget everything I've ever done. You make me want something real for once, not power, not to kill people. I forget everything that's ever been done to me, said to me. You make me want to be a better man." he presses his forehead against mine. "Please don't walk away from me."
"I can't... I can't do this. It's not... Not fair." I whisper, my lips brushing against his. He nods and pulls away, his tongue brushes against the inside of his cheek. Frustration maybe. He's upset. I've upset the Supreme Leader. "That's alright... It's alright." he nods and his hands fall away from mine. I cling onto the feeling of leather on my skin. "I'm sure I'll see you sooner than later." he turns his cheek and gives me this one, last, lingering look and something inside of me tells me he's lying. Kylo Ren and I won't be seeing each other anymore. Not like this, it's unhealthy. It's unsafe. "Yeah." I whispered into the open air. "I'll comm you if I'm ever in the area... We can..." I trail off, unsure of what else to offer him. This is what he looks like hurt and I hate that it's me. But I'd rather break his heart now than waste his time pretending to be someone I'm not. He nods, eyes lingering on my face. "I'll have my men refill your ship and you can be good to go."
"Thank you." I whispered, wrapping my arms around my midsection, suddenly feeling exposed and cold. There's no wind, no trace of an air vent anywhere near me, but this place I'm standing in has never been colder. He either doesn't notice or care, or think it's a good idea to comment because he just stands there watching me for a moment. "You take care of yourself, alright y/n?" I nod, unable to say anything else to soothe the burn. He seems to be unable to think of something to say either because he just turns around and walks out of his bedroom.
A dull chill settles around me once I'm alone. It's what I've always wanted, yet this doesn't feel fulfilling at all.
Actually, I'm hardly able to escape the Docking bay of the First Order's prisoner ship when my datapad chimes with a message from no other than the Supreme Leader himself.
Come to the Finalizer. We can talk privately in my quarters. That room has microphones and cameras all over the place.
I purse my lips and roll my eyes. If he thinks I'm just going to drop everything and stop by and see him? Especially because I've been sitting in that detention center for hours now, almost every single drop of spice of whiskey had almost completely left my body, no haze, no daze, nothing. I was stone cold sober or at least about to be. Plus, I probably was going to have a giant bounty on my head some time soon because I haven't reached out to my contact and explained what happened, leaving out all the juicy details of course.
I mean who does he think he is anyway? My boss? That he can just tell me what to do, make a request, a demand, an order and I'll follow like a faithful servant?
Kylo Ren's bedroom is sparse, full of red and white and black. There's a large viewport in his bedroom showing the great expanse of the galaxy that he partially controls. The Finalizer hums around me, feeling like a great big living thing. The bed is black and red, silk sheets and thick quilted blanket. It's neatly made. A desk, a few scattered files littering it's space, a single chair. The door to the left is the refresher, and there's a table with two chairs. It looks the same as last time, nothing new or out of place. I trace my fingertips along the desk, scattering the papers even more. I'm not snooping, in fact he invited me here. I just happened to get here before him.
The walk in closet beside his bed is just as empty as the bedroom. A few cloaks and robes for colder weather. Slack pants and trousers, tunics and a dresser with what I can only assume to be his boxers and socks and whatever devious thing's men like him hide in closets. However I'm not here for that. I strip myself bare and pull one of his compression shirts from the hanger and slip it on over my naked body. So many times has my body been accustomed to this. Being brought up here. His bedsheets probably still smell like me (cause you know men don't wash their sheets). There's a permanent indentation in the shape of me on the left side, side furthest from the door, the side I always lie on when we're in bed together. He's never once made me leave after we're finished, he lets me shower and drink water and have a snack and then in the morning we usually fuck again before I end up needing to get back to work and he has to be Supreme Leader again. It's been a long time since I've been here, really makes me wonder who else he's brought in here. I make my way back out into the main bedroom and flop backward on his sheets, breathing in his scent.
Dark, musky, a little citrusy, foresty maybe. But it's warm and if I'm not careful I'll fall asleep here like this. I just stare at the ceiling, listening to the humming of the Finalizer. His bedroom is too far away to hear anyone talking or the sounds of machinery, so it's extra private. I think about everything and nothing, and try and cling onto the rest of the spice that still hums in my veins, every second I feel more levelheaded. Then the memories start to come.
Robbing people. My blaster aimed at kids. Knife fights and being the only survivor to walk out of a room. Tricking people, killing people.
It flickers into something softer, something that hurts a little bit more. Memories of people who don't belong to me anymore. The first guy I ever had sex with. My mother, singing songs while she braids my hair in the bathtub. My childhood bedroom. I once was a sweet little girl, shy. I had grown up on a planet mostly inhabited by women. Raised by woman, loved by woman, fed by woman. And look who I've become today, a whore who wants nothing but men to love me. It sickens me more than the memories of those I killed. If only my mother could see me now.
My thoughts are interrupted when the door slides open and Kylo walks through. He pauses when he sees me. I sit up on my elbows. "Surprised I beat you here?" I teased with a grin. "My ship is faster after all." I shrugged. His eyes travel up my body slowly, from my bare feet all the way up to the hem of his t-shirt. "Oh right, this old thing. Borrowed it from your closet." I finally sit up fully and place my hands in my lap. "I'm here. So let's talk without prying ears and eyes. And in about five minutes I'll be completely sober for the first time in weeks, that's what you wanted right?" I offer and he barely nods but there's a slow tilt to his chin. He doesn't sit next to me or even move toward the bed, he crossed the room to his large viewport and looks out the window, back to me, fists clenched at his sides. Did I do something wrong?
"You're sober." he repeats slowly, tasting how the words feel on his tongue. "And you're in my room, wearing my shirt, telling me what I want." a silence washes over us. Maybe I did do something wrong? "What do you want, y/n?" he asks, tension coiling from his frame like a snake ready to attack. He's waiting. Not for a performance or a game, just a real honest to Gods answer. So I let him have it, "I want whiskey. And Spice. And sex." they're blunt and true all rolled into one. I ca just make out his reflection in the window, it shines, probably just cleaned recently. His shoulders tighten a fraction, raising closer to his ears. He turns around to face me, slow. Everything with his is always so slow. So precise, so exact. I wish for once he'd just do something. Something extraordinary. Something unpredictable. "You can have the whiskey here. I'll even pour it for you." he decides and moves once again but to his little kitchenette corner. That same Corellian whiskey, the same crystal glasses. He makes quick work of it, the pouring and then he takes a small sip from his glass. "The spice, no. Not on my ship. Not ever again." he sets his glass down and trades it for mine, his footsteps are silent as he walks towards his large bed, he holds the glass out for me. "And the sex..." it's deep and dark and arousing. His voice always is. His free hand plants itself on the side of my thigh, his thumb barely brushing against my skin, if just shift a little to the right...
The bed dips under his weight as he leans closer, his face so close to mine. I can smell the leather on his skin. "That's not something you want, that's something you use. Against me. Against everyone. To feel something other than what you're feeling right now. So tell me, what are you feeling?" I reach up for the whiskey but he pulls his hand back at the last minute until it's just right out of my reach. "Uh-uh. Use your words."
Instead, I lean forward, closing the distance between him and I, and kiss him. Hard. Shut up, shut up, shut up. I whisper in my head like a mantra, a distraction. My mouth crashes against him, no fury, but something close to passionate. It's more of a lingering question than a demand. He goes still for a split second, surprised at my boost of confidence, and then the hand on the bed comes up and cups the back of my head, gripping my hair. He doesn't push me away but he also doesn't antagonize the kiss any further no matter how long I try. It's annoying, it makes tears of frustration well up in my eyes. I forgot how emotional I get whenever I'm sober. I mean high I'm a fucking mess, but this? Crying because he won't kiss me properly? That's all kinds of fucked.
I finally pull away, trying to blink away my tears. "That's not an answer. That's a distraction." his hand moves until he cups my cheek instead, thumb swiping across my bottom lip. "What are you feeling?" he repeats again.
"Nothing. I don't feel anything. Don't let your delusions of grandeur fool you."
My voice comes out flat, stripped of emotion despite the tears in my eyes. He knows I'm lying. He leans back, putting a few more inches of space between us. He hums, hand adjusting until his thumb swipes just under my eye, catching my tear before it can fall. "That must be why you're crying. Cause you can't feel a thing. Can you?" he stands up fully and offers me the glass, this time when I reach for it he doesn't pull away. "I'm tired of being your distraction, y/n." he crosses his arms over his chest. The muscles under his armor and clothes bulge out a little bit, but it's just a secondary thing in my peripherals compared to the cold glass in my hands. I drink down the whiskey in one gulp, it's not even enough to get a small buzz going, but it's something, a life line. He turns and steps across the empty space of his bedroom until he reaches his counter again and drinks the rest of his whiskey, he pours himself a secondary glass. "So here's the deal I'm offering you. You drink some whiskey with me, you stay here tonight. Sober. In my bed. And in the morning you and I can talk about anything you want. Then you're free to go again." he leans against the counter, waiting on my counter offer.
"You know we haven't had sex in almost three months... And you're gonna waste tonight on what- lying in bed together and doing nothing... Are you celibate now?" I smile of unease swipes across my face, there and gone. I watch his face, waiting for an answer, a reaction. "No. Not celibate... Just selective." he takes another sip of his drink and brings the whiskey glass over to me, a smile plays in the corner of his mouth daring to get out. He offers me more whiskey and I gladly accept.
He nods at me, chin tilting up and jutting out to the backboard of the bed. I shift backwards until my back hits his backboard. The bed dips as he climbs on and sits beside me. "Sex with you was never just sex y/n. It was a battlefield. A way to avoid everything else." he sets his glass down on the table beside his bed where he had put the glass bottle of whiskey before he climbed onto the bed. I take another sip of my drink and hand his the glass. He sets it aside too. "So yes. It's been three months. And yes, I have thought about you. But I'd rather have you here, sober, in my shirt and telling me you feel nothing... Than have you under me screaming to forget." he turns to look at me, his expression read able but I choose not to open that chapter. "Does that answer your question?"
"If you want me to change, I can change- I can be anything you want me to." I swing my leg over his and plop down onto his lap. His pants feel like heaven against my lower region, not scratchy or anything but smooth and warm and I can feel the thickness of his thighs through them. He's not even wearing his full armor like usual, must have taken it off before coming in here. He probably already knew I'd be here. I place my hands on his shoulders. This is closest we've been in weeks. Months. Kylo's hands rest on the thick of my thighs, searching my eyes with his. "I don't want you to change. I want you to stop running, and if you're gonna run, run to me, not from me." his thumbs stroke gently against my skin and it drives me utterly wild. "The only thing I want for you to be is sober. Fuck- be sober on another planet, be sober far away from me I don't care. I just want that pretty head of yours to think clearly for once. You're too beautiful to keep ruining your life." his words literally steal the air from my lungs. I blink down at him slowly. "But can you be here. With me, just for tonight sweetheart?"
Sweetheart.
There's nothing sweet about me, definitely not my heart. It cracks my chest open, exposing every vulnerability in me. He can see me so clearly. I've lied to him. I've tricked him. I've cried, almost died in his arms. Yet he won't leave me the fuck alone. I shake my head and pull my hands away. I don't know what I was expecting coming here, talking to him. Something in us to change? We are never going to change, we're going to be stuck on the carousel until either of us die. A sick feeling rolls in my stomach. "No- no..." the words come out quiet and firm. "I can't. I should go-" I start to push off his lap but his hands slide up my thighs to my waist. They tighten, fingers digging into my hip bones. It's not forcefully, he's not holding me down, but rather holding me in place. "Stay." he whispers. "Just stay." and if I didn't know any better, I'd think he's begging me.
He doesn't pull me any closer. He doesn't try to kiss me either, just looks into my eyes with his increasingly sad ones. "You don't have to be anything. You don't have to say anything. Just... Be here. With me. For five minutes, that's all.." the pressure on my waist loosens as his thumbs return to their steady circular motions. The room is quiet between us once again, the sound of my breathing mixes with his. My shoulders release an inch of tension.
You're gonna hurt him.
I suck in a deep breath and shove his hands off me. He does not let go. The pressure behind his fingers tenses up a bit, now there's a bit of force. He sits up a little, backing pulling away from the headboard. "Are we really doing this again?" he asks, not loudly but his voice does raise a few octaves. "Running? Fighting? Pushing me away because it's easier than letting me in?" the grip of his hands on my waist begins to hurt a little but I welcome the pain. "You said you don't feel anything. Prove it." his eyes dart across my face, trying to read me. This is exactly his problem, he tries to read into everything and I don't even have the time to think twice if he looking at me. "Sit. Five fucking minutes. Don't move. Don't run. If you really feel nothing it should be so easy." there's a note of sarcasm dripping from his tone and my eyebrows furrow.
Five minutes or an eternity?
I get down to a minute and a half of silence before I break-
"You used me for sex!" I push at his hands and they fall away from my waist this time without a fuss. I slide off the bed, bare feet hitting the cold steel. "You want me as what- some kind of friend? You kill people you lunatic!" I shouted, waving my hands and gesturing at him wildly. "You're a psycho!" I turn away from him, running my hands over my face in exhaustion and frustration. How many times will we have this conversation before he decides he's had enough? Kylo doesn't move. He stays there, sitting up and watching me, watching me absolutely crash the fuck out in his bedroom. "I used you for sex?" he repeats then scoffs. "You used me for the same thing! For a distraction, we both used each other. Don't think you're all high and mighty because you can fuck and not fall in love. I stopped using you, the difference between us is we never did."
I'm gonna pretend like he didn't just fucking say that.
"And yes, I killed people. I've killed more people than you can imagine. I've destroyed planets. I've burned cities. I am a monster." he recites it all like a fact, like it's a normal day for him, which I suppose it is. "But you're not afraid of monsters. You are afraid of someone who sees you. Who wants to know you. Who wants more from you than just your body." he continued. He waved at the door as he stood up, walking to the viewport. He ran his hands through his hair musing it up. His delicate waves curled around his head like an ominous halo. "You can just leave. The door's unlocked, you know where your ship is. You have my credits. You can run. You can buy enough spice to forget this conversation ever happened." he listed off then turned to face me again slowly. "Or you can just stay." he says it so simply.
"You're not a monster Kylo Ren." I said into the sparse bedroom, watching his face intently. "You're a fake." I whispered, face entering into something dark and mean. I don't know where else to go from here. "You want to be like Darth Vader but you never will be. He didn't pretend to be evil, he was evil! He liked being evil!" I had heard many stories of Darth Vader, some from Kylo and some from other people mentioning him like a dark curse that was bestowed upon the galaxy. "You're just mad no one gave you attention as a child." I finished, crossing my arms over my chest defiantly. The air in the room seems to sharp, penetrating into my skin like little pin pricks of ice. "You think I'm pretending?" a huff of laughter escapes him, enraging me a little more. "You think this is- is an act? For attention?" he steps toward me once. Twice. Three times until he's in front of me. The closer he gets the more I back up until my thighs hit the back of his bed. "My grandfather was a slave who became a tyrant. He burned his own soul out trying to control the galaxy." his eyes hold mine steadily. "I'm not trying to be him. I'm going to be better than him." oh my fucking gods he's lost his mind. "You're right about one thing, though. I am mad no one gave me attention as a child. But you're wrong about why. It's not because I've always wanted to be evil- I lost the battle to the darkness because of my neglect. I wanted someone to see me!" his voice echoes around the room like blaster fire. "And I see you... Do you see me too?" his hands cup my face gently. "And you are so afraid of being seen, I don't understand why. Everything you've ever shown me was... Was beautiful."
"I'm not afraid of anything." I reply mechanically. A faint smile danced across his lips. "Everyone's afraid of something. You are scared of being still, of being sober, of being known. SO you move around, you run, you hide. I'm scared of being alone in the dark with the person I've become." his fingers dance through my hair brushing it over my shoulder and away from my face as he moves them until his right hand cupped the back of my neck and the other held my neck, his pointer finger tilting my chin up until I had no further choice but to look him in the eye. Those brown eyes. "Tell me something about yourself that nobody knows. Your favorite color. Where you grew up as a kid. How you started smuggling- I don't care. I just want to hear you talk."
His dark eyes search mine again and again, looking for any hint of resignation. He waits.
I give him the only truth I can give, and that I fight. I rase my fist and swing.
"You have two choices. Either whatever whiskey I poured in this glass for you, and I know how much you like Corellian Whiskey," a ghost of a smile dances across his lips. Maybe I will punch him one more time, just to watch that smug little smirk disappear from his perfectly pink lips. "Or," he reaches into a different pocket, not the one my knife is in. He pulls out another vial that catches my attention. It's completely silver so I couldn't tell what was inside. He flips it open, making a show of it an dumping it's contents onto the table, right beside the whiskey. One pale blue, one clear, the other white. "Painkiller. A nutrient boost, and a mild stimulant, more of a relaxer, you might even sleep peacefully for once."
"You want to drug me?" I narrowed my eyes at him.
"No. I think you can do that perfectly well on your own." his voice is quiet but it feels like a stab wound. I walk closer to him and take in my two options. Either the smallest sip of whiskey, that feels more like a pity drink than a peace offering. Or a sorry excuse at what the word 'drug' is supposed to mean. I take option three. I lean down and dig my hand into his pocket and take my knife back. He doesn't even try to stop me, just sits there on that chair, looking up at me. His eyes are shining against the lighting in his room. The red lights flicker in his eyes stealing the breath from my lungs. I pull my blade out and flick it open, it too feels like being welcomed home. I step back quickly yet he doesn't look surprised or worried or even offended. I can't threaten to kill him, he too cares so little about himself. I bet his sick little ass would find pleasure in me killing him.
I turn the blade on my, pressing the tip against my stomach just above my belly button. His eyes dart downward but he doesn't move or flinch or speak, just looks bored and tired. "More. Or i'll kill myself- not you." I feel a heat pressing against me where the blade ends and I starts. It's hum singes into the midsection of my shirt, beginning to burn a small hole. My mouth twitches, fighting off a grin. He is very still, like a statue. This is it, his breaking moment, I can feel it in the atmosphere. He sets the silver vial down onto the table with the rest of the pills. "You're not going to do it. You already tried to do it and you failed." I swallow down air thickly, it almost makes me throw up. "But I'll repeat what I told you before. I'm not your enemy. There isn't a single thing I wouldn't do for you y/n. So put the blade down, and I'll get you whatever you need that won't kill you."
I roll my eyes hard. He wouldn't care if I killed myself. "Wouldn't want to ruin your pristine floors anyway- what color is this? I kill kids crimson? Suits you Ren." I smiled at him and chewed on the inside of my cheek. I flick my knife closed and sweep down, I shove the knife into my boot with precision. I run my tongue across my lips, I'm parched and incredibly dehydrated. "Five thousand credits and I won't tell the Resistance where your hideouts are. And I'll leave peacefully- won't even kill anyone on my way out." I rest my hands on my hips, I'm not bluffing this time. I probably wouldn't have been able to stab myself, truthfully. Kylo watches me for a moment. He reaches into his pocket for a third time and flaunts a bronze chip. Credits. "There's eight thousand on there." he stands and walks to the large viewport in his bedroom, staring out the window at the void in front of him. "You know where your ship is. You're free to go."
I pick up the chip, weighing it in my palm. "You know I'm just gonna take this and leave. Go buy more spice." I said into the empty space, he doesn't move or turn to look back. "Yeah. I know." his arms cross behind his back, his fingers twitching. "But I'm glad I got to meet you sober even if it's only for a little while." I look from the chip in my hand to him, to the drink on the table, back to him, then finally the three pills still on the table. I could shower. Have a drink, take the pills and probably knock out on his bed for a little while. But eight thousands credits is eight thousands credits. "I just hope you're smarter than that."
"Your problem is you put too much faith in me. I'm not a smart girl, in fact I take pleasure in being greatly stupid. It's gotten me this far, it'll get me further." I take the chip and slide it into my boot, the other one, not the one my knife is in. "Touch my stash again and you'll find every outpost of yours bombed. Okay?"
Kylo turns around, he just looks. It's not a stare or a look of intent, he's just there. A steady, presence. "Noted." no heat, no challenge. Just a simple acknowledgement. With the chip in my boot, I run.
SIX WEEKS LATER
The Midnight Runner drifts in dead space. Shields are down, I'm not even strapped in, I don't have anywhere to be for the next twenty minutes, I'm early for once. Twelve crates of Glitterstim, Coaxium, and Death Sticks sit in my cargo hold.
It took me less than two hours to get my hands on some kind of drug, less than fifteen minutes to get it into my system again, and less than ten to find a new toy to fuck. And now here I am, back on my smuggling routes. Six weeks I was able to fly under the radar. I run my jobs, I keep my head down, I stay far away from any First Order whispers. I aide the Resistance. I help the wounded and find the missing.
But this particular route paid too much, 20,000 credits. 10,000 before drop off, 10,000 more afterward. It was the perfect come back, a way to get my name back out there after being identified as 'missing' but every contact I've ever smuggled for. And now here I am. "Midnight Runner, please prepare to be boarded." I roll my eyes at the rickety voice coming through my comms. I should have known better. Maybe this was a set up, maybe he's just been keeping an extra tight leash on anything to do with me, maybe someone turned me in. Either way, this feels like bullshit.
My bay doors are overridden as my ship lands in a docking bay. As soon as the doors are down completely, four stormtroopers barge in, blasters at the ready. Two grab me by the bicep and yank me out of my cockpit until I'm on my knees below them. My hands are then cuffed in front of me. "Kinky, I like it." I grinned up at a trooper. "Save your breath for the commander." I watch as more troopers file into my cargo hold, crate after crate disappearing slowly down the ramp, confiscated.
An hour and a half later I'm sitting by myself, still cuffed in a room for questioning. The door slides open, I'm expecting a commanding officer of some sort, but instead it's him. His dark hair, his strong frame all stand in the doorway, unmoving. "Twelve crates. A direct route through First Order patrol space. Were you trying to get caught?" he questions flatly. I sit up a little straighter, cuffed hands falling to my lap. He never hangs out at patrol stations. "Oh, I'm sorry your highness. I didn't realize I was important enough for you to fly all the way here."
"Six weeks. You've been labeled as missing or dead for six weeks. I've contacted many of your partners. It was like your entire line of work was wiped clean." He finally steps into the room, the door slides shut locking us alone inside. He moves to stand in front of the table but doesn't sit. His gaze trails down the top half of my body. "I also checked your route. It's sloppy. Rushed. Almost like you wanted to get caught." he tilts his head. "And I find you here, hungover, with a cargo hold full of Death Sticks, looking like you've been running on spite and your bad decisions." he leans down menacingly, the lights above us cast dark shadows across his face. He places his palms down on the table. "So I'll ask again y/n, were you trying to get caught? Or were you just trying to get my attention?"
I lean back in my chair and glare at him, my cuffed hands rest on my thigh, a lazy smirk curving my mouth upward. "I don't need your attention. I can have anyone I want. Do you know how many men pay for one night with me? Do you know how much they pay for my body? How much my head alone is worth?" my voice drops, dripping out like pure honey and fluffy like cotton candy. "I'm most wanted: dead, alive, or naked on almost every planet." I kick my boots up onto the table, coating the spot just below my feet in a fine layer of brown dust. Kylo's expression doesn't shift, he does however stand up straight.
His cloak glides behind him with a firm sweep as he switches sides. he moves to stand behind me and I can't see him unless I turn my head, but I won't give him the satisfaction of wanting to see him. His boots are heavy against the steel floor, I can feel the heat of him stop just behind my back. His voice comes out low, just for me to hear as he leans down to my ear, "I know exactly how much they pay. I also know you've never once kept any of them past morning." his hand settles on the back of my chair, a cage of presence without contact. "So tell me y/n- if you can have anyone you want, why are you still here?"
My hands raise, wrists cuffed together. "I don't think I have a choice, your highness." I turn my cheek toward him and look up at him through my lashes. "Have you come to free me from my shackles and shame?" Kylo's mouth barely twitches, like flame going out, there and gone. He drops a keycard on the table right in front of me. The loud clatter echoes around the sparse questioning room. "Shackles, yes." his voice is dry. "Shame's your own business." he doesn't try and uncuff me himself. He just stands there, right behind me, waiting to see what I'll do.
The detention hall hums around me, low lights, distant chatter and footsteps. My ship sits in the hangar, twelve crates lighter. No cargo. Missing out on another 10,000 credits. "So. You going to use that or do you need an engraved invitation?"
"I need more credits Ren, now. Or I'm gonna... Well, be wanted dead more than alive, and definitely more than naked... I screwed up, okay! I need the money and you keep taking my stash from me! These people already don't trust me for my relations with the First Order, I'm losing revenue because of you!"
"How much do you owe?" he asks simply. Technically none but I can't show up to my contact empty handed. Of course they'd rather have the spice to sell and distribute on their own, but I need the extra ten thousand to hand back to them, rather than just hide. "10,000. This run is worth 20,000 credits. 10 for taking them, 10 for the drop off. But I can't give them my ten thousand, it's all I have right now. So if you give me the ten thousand, it'll look like I'm just giving them my ten thousand. It looks honest."
He doesn't say anything again for a while. My heartbeat is rapid in my chest. "I can get you twenty five." he says finally. "Pay off your debts, settle down somewhere quiet and hide. Away from your contacts, away from the Resistance, away from the First Order." he stands up and walks around to the other side again. "It's not a loan, or a trap, but a door. You can walk through it or you can keep bleeding out in the dark. The cells here are nicer than you'll find elsewhere."
"Lock me up officer?" I gasp in mock surprise. "Think I'll look good in your prison blues?" I bat my eyelashes at him teasingly. Playful beneath the bravado. I wait for the look of annoyance, irritation, I see none. He leans across the table slowly, his hand presses against the wooden table and the other presses a finger against my jaw. His thumb and pointer finger tilt my head backward until I'm looking at him, only him. "You'd look good in anything y/n. But you'd look better walking out of here free." he whispers, eyes dancing along my lips. My eyes widen a fracture, I try and pull my face away but his grip is strong. "Your call. Cell or stars. I'll respect either."
A slow smile spreads across my lips. "Six weeks without me and you're hard as stone. I can fix it for you, no payment this time.." I trail off. The words hang heavy in the air with implication. His breath catches almost imperceptibly. He drops my chin and steps back, crossing his arms behind his back again. "You think you can fix me with your hands and mouth?" his voice is rough and smooth at the same time, like fresh marble. "You think that's what I want from you?" His head tilts and he shakes it. No. It's not what he wants from me. My heart plummets to my chest. "I have had plenty of people offer me their body, y/n. It's the ones who offer me something real that I can't seem to let go."
"I've never offered you anything real, Ren!" I bite out, furiously. Never once did I ever insinuate wanting something more from him. Not when we fuck, not when we argue, not even when I fall asleep in his bed or him in mine. "You read into thing's too much." I yank my feet off the table but his hand jerks out, holding me in place without touching me. His stupid fucking magic tricks. The pressure on my shoes feels almost like a touch, a caress, but it's still a pressure nonetheless. Despite my struggles and attempts to move he's too strong, overpowering, overwhelming. "You're right." he agrees, my eyebrows raise in surprise. "I do read into things. I see patterns where there might not be any. I see a woman who's been running for so long she's forgotten how to stand still." the grip on my ankles loosen and I draw my feet back to myself quickly. "Keycards on the table. I'll have a chip ready for you in your ship. Take them or don't."
The door slides open behind him as he passes through. I make quick work of undoing my cuffs with the key card. It slides through and unlocks smoothly, freeing my wrists. I let the cuffs clatter onto the table and stand up. My reflection in the steel shows me, dressed in my usual black, hair a mess from the trouble of being cuffed in my own ship and taken prisoner. The steel door is still open so I take a tentative step into the outside corridor. It's completely empty except for one guard standing at the end of the hall. "I have your credit chip here, if you'll please follow me I'll escort you back to your ship." not even the ominous presence of Kylo stuck in the air. He was gone. And so was I.
I grab a spare vibroblade from my weapons compartment and clutch it between my fingers like a life line. The weight is familiar, it hums gently with power and force. He is a dead man. My boots hit the floor of the Finalizer, the echoes of troopers and crew surround me like a taunt. A crewman walks past, datapad in hand, completely ignoring my fury. It sets the fire in me into a frenzy. I follow after him, he's unsuspecting. My hand closes around his collar and I yank him backward, his datapad clatters to the floor. I press the blade against his throat letting it sizzle. He lets out a loud screech. Weak. Useless. The vibration trembles through his throat as I hold him against me, he leans backward, wriggling in my grip but I don't let go. The other troopers and crewmen seem to come to a pause, a few troopers aim their blaster at me but they're not on my hit list, and I have someone more important to kill. However if they want a war I will start it and they will lose. His eyes are wide and he's stuttering out apologies, random bullshit he can think of to get me to let go. "Where is Kylo Ren." my voice is flat, cold, precise. "Lie and I will kill you slow. So slow you won't even know you're dying for another six years. It'll be agonizing, and you will come to me and beg for your forgiveness but you will find I have none left." I whisper in his ear. "S-Supreme Leader's quarters!" he blurts out, Adam's apple bobbing in his throat. His chest rises up and down quickly in panic. "The highest deck, you'll need a code but-but that's where he'll be right about now!" he trembles, hands raised, fingers splayed out, trying to give an air of innocence. I know men like him, they're not innocent.
I keep the blade against his throat for another moment. Two. I glare down at him, weighing my options. If I kill him now then I'll have to kill more people before I get to Ren, and I'm good, but I won't be able to handle an entire fleet of Stormtroopers, Ren is much more important than this low life crewman. My grip loosens from his collar and I shove him to his knees. The blade cuts along the underside of his jaw making the useless little thing whimper in pain. I rolled my eyes and stuffed the blade into my belt. I grip his hair and yank his head back and I squat, whispering in his ear. "Thank you. If he's not there I know where to find you. And if I ever have to see you again I won't hesitate. This time I'm feeling... generous." I let him go, pushing his head away as I use him to stand up again.
No one shoots at me as I walk away. My boots carry me throughout the ship. I enter the first elevator I see, trusting my gut to bring me to the right spot. I press the button that is glowing red, no buttons have numbers, and the other buttons are all glowing white. Seems only right? I feel the elevator lurch, and it smooth glides me upward. It opens again a few moments later to a short hallway. At the end is a steel door, it feels right. It is code-locked, like the guy said. No guard posted out front. He either doesn't have one or just doesn't find it fitting to need one, after all, he's the strongest guy in the galaxy, supposedly. I knock. Well, it's more of a fist pounding against the steel, but it's a knock nonetheless. The sound echoes around the small hallway loudly. "Kylo! Kylo Ren! Open this fucking door!" I shouted, smacking both my fists against it. I don't stop, because that bastard said he was in here and he better be, because I will go right back down to the first floor and murder them all. "Open the door! I know you're in there!" I continued. Each thud reverberates up my arm, jarring my shoulder leaving behind an ache but it hardly matters. Not when I can already feel the first spikes of anxiety rolling through my chest. I don't take drugs just to take them, I need them to fulfill the silence in my head, I need the peace, I need the quiet. I pound on the door until my knuckles ache.
I pause for a moment to reach into my belt and I grab the knife, I'm about to unsheathe it when the door hisses open upward. Kylo stands there, leaning against his desk with his arms and legs crossed. He was just standing there the entire fucking time? His expression is unreadable, but I know him better. The little quirk in his plump lips, he's amused. The glimmer in his eye, he's enjoying my fury. "Took you longer than expected." he stands and walks toward me. I don't waste a moment. My hand slams up against his chest, shoving him backward as soon as he gets close. I walk into the room as he stumbles backward and the door shuts behind us. He grunts when I keep shoving him backward until his back finally hits the wall. I hold my blade up to his neck. "Where's my stuff Ren?" my voice is low, no trace of terror. I'm not scared of him, I never have been, even when he threatened to kill me when we first met. I was more surprised than anything. The blade in my hand presses enough against his skin that one wrong move and he could bleed out, there's already a thin line of red. His eyes meet mine, no fear, no anger, no surprise. Just trying to maintain unreadable, he expected this from me. "Safe." he replies lowly, bored. His gaze drops to the knife in my hand for a moment then flicks back to me. "You can keep the knife there, or you can lower it and we can talk, your choice."
"Give it back!" I responded, voice loud and confident even though I can hear the shakiness. "What do you want? Want me to suck your dick or something, I'll do it. Just give it back, all of it. Now, I need it now!" my voice cracks at the end even though I willed it not to. It's ugly, probably the least professional I've ever sounded around him. Kylo's expression shifts minutely. The calm, almost unreadable mask cracks. Just barely, but there's a flicker in his dark eyes. Not shock, not disgust, but the realization that I am an addict. I've never told him straight up, he probably just thought I did it recreationally. But now. I actually needed the stuff to survive. To live another damn day, I couldn't get through life sober anymore, not after everything I've done.
His hand moves slow, wraps around my fist holding the blade, he doesn't move it or press it any closer to his already red skin. "You don't need the spice. You need the quiet. The dark. The thing that makes the noise stop." he's holding my gaze like he'd hold me, it's a physical thing, intimate. "I know what it's like." he pauses for a long time, half expecting me to pull away probably. I don't. I tighten my grip on the blade. This thumb strokes across the skin over my knuckles, featherlight. "I can't give you the spice back... I flushed it. All of it." he whispers but his voice is loud. It's the only thing I can hear.
I yank my fist away from him, the panic sets in deep and raw. "You fucking bastard!" I swing the knife in his direction, the blade whistles through the air, aimed at his chest, but Kylo suspects it. Him and his stupid magic tricks. He arm shoots out and meets mine, blocking the blow, the blade slashes against his armor, not even leaving a mark. No trace of my anger. "Y/n." Kylo says calmly, clearly in an attempt at cooling me off, but I don't even care at this point in time. I want to watch him bleed. He's done too much to the galaxy, and this is the final straw. You never steal a girl's stash! Before I can pull back for a secondary swing, he grabs my wrist tightly, it sends a spark of pain up my hand and into my wrist, the dull ache settling in. I don't let that affect me though, nothing will keep me from killing this large dickhead. "Look at me." he requests, not an order but it's still authoritative, but sweeter. His voice cuts through the haze, low and steady. The other hand of his comes up and cups my elbow to keep me stationary. I'm breathing hard, uneven gasps of air that rack through my lungs with force. My eyes are wet. When did that happen?
In his distraction, my other hand comes up, fisted, and I swing. It connects with his jaw, his head snaps to the side. Surprise flickers across his face. I don't think he realizes how many times I've been put in this position. He isn't the first person to ever steal from me, and he won't be the last, but he will be another body in a grave soon enough. The Resistance will praise me, give me honor, credits. The entire galaxy will thank me for reducing another problem. I can picture it now. I raise my knee, it connects with his lower stomach. He grunts and it sickens me with pleasure that I've hurt him too. Strange satisfaction, I search for it more.
Unfortunately he's bigger. He's stronger. He's trained, and my training doesn't quite compare to whatever his master put him through. The tussle carries us to the floor, and it's a steady fight, I'm aggressive he's defensive. He can't hurt me like the loser he is, he can't do it. It should make killing him easier, but it doesn't. Kylo Ren can't hurt me. The thought feels bitter. Kylo Ren won't hurt me. Somehow he ends up on top of me with me on my back. I think I even bit him at one point.
it all happens so fast. One moment I'm on my back and then the next, I failed at crawling away to regain some control and I'm on my stomach. The steel sinks into my skin like I'm sinking into quicksand. It's cool, so cool it eases some of the rage to my misfortune.
As I had tried to crawl away, his hand had come from his ribs and wrapped around my ankle, yanking me until I was underneath him. He traps my body underneath his with his weight, the hand on my ankle moved up my body and caught my wrist. His twists my arm almost painfully until it's behind my back. A cold clink, comparable to the floor. Cuffs. He's fucking cuffed me? His weight settles across my thighs, his breath is coming out hard against the back of my neck. I clench my eyes shut. One hand keeps my wrist held tightly against the small of my back. He leans forward a little more and wrestles my other arm out from under me. He twists and yanks until that too is forced behind my back. "Fuck.." he breathes, something almost like admiration in his voice. "You fight dirty." he secures both wrists into the cuffs and sits up a little.
And then the cheeky little fucker spanks me. Right on the plump of my ass! I gasp, legs kicking wildly behind me. "Get off! Fuck you! You're a disgusting piece of shit!" I shouted, every word punching out of me. "I swear to the gods I will fucking kill you, Ren! You hear me, I'm gonna kill you!" I trash underneath him, twisting, wriggling, bucky, the cuffs biting into my wrists hard enough to draw blood. My voice echoes off the walls with every threat and curse aimed right at him. It seems to bounce off him like I'm not even saying anything at all, there's a sickening chuckle from above me, his entire body seems to shake with laughter. "Shhh. I hear you."
He's quiet. No apparent mockery, no condescension. It makes it ten times worse. "I like you much more like this." the pressure on my thighs loosens as he stands above me. "Let me know when you're tired, I'll let you out." he strokes my hair gently. I give in and just lie there. The quicker I pretend to forgive him, the quicker these can come off and I can try and kill him again. "I'm not your enemy y/n. But I'm not going to let you kill yourself with that garbage either." finally he unclicks the cuffs from my wrist. I pull them away immediately. I roll onto my back and sit up, I inspect the damages around my wrists. They're ugly but they won't scar, hopefully, I don't need anymore reminders of this bastard on my skin after I kill him. He stands up fully, adjusts his armor, he doesn't walk away just stands there beside me like a calming presence.
I'm sitting on the floor of the Finalizer. In Kylo's Ren's bedroom. My wrists are raw, my throat is dry, my body is tired and aching. It feels well rested but also exhausted. For the first time in weeks, months or maybe even years, I don't feel an ounce of a high. Not a daze, not a flurry of feeling. Just me. And every voice in my head. Cries. I am sober. The thought feels like cold running water. Like rain when you're expecting sunshine. I've betrayed my self, I'm unsure if my body even knows how to do this anymore. I need to leave. I push myself up slowly.
I've never been so present and aware. Just me and him and a silence that I've never heard so loud before. Kylo stands a few feet away, watching me in that same unreadable expression, his hands loose at his sides. I look down at my hands. They don't tremble or shake. The dirt and grime that once was under my fingers was gone too, how hadn't I noticed? It was like every part of my personality was stripped bare, naked, raw. He cleaned me up nicely, dressed me like a little dolly. I'm in his room. Alive, sober, and I have no idea what to do for once. Usually the high makes me reckless and the alcohol makes me crave movement, they work a wonderful combination. But now I feel like a piece of me is missing.
"You look like hell. The bathroom's through that door. I'll get you clean clothes for when you're done." he turns and swipes my knife off the floor where it fell during our altercation. "Safe to say you won't be getting this back any time soon." I scoff and cross my arms over my chest defensively. "Look at me." his back muscles tense. "If I do are you gonna punch me in the face again?"
"I'm thinking about it, but I'll refrain myself."
He turns around, makes a grand show of stuffing my knife into his pocket. My tongue runs over the inside of my cheek, feeling the scarring left behind by my anxious bites, a habit I stopped once I started using drugs. I cared less what other people thought of me, but the scars still stayed, a hidden reminder of who I am on the inside, someone no one else knew about but me. "Shower." he says more earnestly, the teasing in his eyes is gone.
"I'm not like you Kylo. I don't have Snoke in my head telling me what to do. I just have me to listen to, my game, my rules. You're a child still letting daddy tell you when to eat and breathe."
"Snoke's dead." he says simply. "I killed him. With my own hands. While he was sitting on that throne, acting like he was an all knowing God. But he didn't know, he didn't know what I was going to do or that I'd succeed. You should have been there to see the look on his face when he realized I bested him. I won!" the sudden tone change makes me blink in surprise. "So maybe you're right. I am not him. I never want to be him because I would never treat a child the same way he treated me. But if it weren't for him I would be dead. I don't have his voice in my head anymore, just yours." he whispers, pointing a finger at me. "You want rules, fine." he shrugs. "We'll play by yours. Shower. Change your clothes. Then come and sit out here and talk to me for once. Not as a smuggler, not as a hooker or whatever you've done, just as you and me. No games."
"Why the fuck would I want to talk to you after you flushed all my hard-earned-payments down the drain? And for what? Some kind of adrenaline rush? To make you feel better about yourself? You think you're going to be the one to clean up the addict?" I scoffed and looked away from him. My fingertips dig into my palms leaving behind a dull pain, but all it does is add fire to my fury. "Then you proceed to cuff me up like a fucking prisoner here."
"I flushed it because it was killing you. And I cuffed you because you were killing me. But I think we both know you would've hurt yourself more that you'd hurt me." while his words lack condescension, it's there, right between his lines.
"I want you to stop trying to die. Even if you hate me before it. I want you to live, even if it's on the other side of the galaxy where neither I nor the First Order can find you- in fact I prefer it."
"I am living Ren! Maybe not living like you, your highness, but what the fuck does my life have to do with yours? You live meaninglessly. I have a purpose. I help the world go run, I help wounded, I get families back together. You just kill people because you have a praise kink."
A ghost of a smile crosses his lips and he nods, chin tilting low to his chest, he whispers into a quiet, "A praise kink." he chews on his bottom lip for a moment before glancing back up at me. "Is that what you think this is?" he stuffs his hands in his pockets calmly, like this is an everyday kind of conversation he has, and maybe it is. I always wondered how many women he'd sleep with but I never had the mind or the heart to care enough to ask. "You're right. I kill people. I've killed a lot of them, some deserved it, some undeserving. But I have never done it for praise." he can't really expect me to believe him? "You want to know why I care? Because when I look at you, I see someone who's been fighting a lone for so long she's forgotten there's any other way to live." he pauses and takes a deep breath. "I know that fight- hell I've lived it! And it's a lonely way to exist." he points at the shower with his hand. "I'm not asking you to stay forever. I'm asking you to take a shower, change your clothes, maybe have a cup of caf. One conversation with me. After that, if you want to leave and never look back I won't stop you."
I'm not staying because he asked nicely. "Fine. But I won't talk to you until I get something in my system." the words land flatly, uncompromising. I nod at the counter where he has a bottle of whiskey on display proudly. His head turns and looks at what I'm insinuating. He stares at the dark liquor for a moment. "Do you even know what you overdosed on?" he asked quietly.
"No." I shake my head, I guessed it was something Ren had in that crate, probably the orange glowing stick I plunged into my veins, but that wasn't the only thing I took the other night. "Death Stick. It's called a Death Stick." he said simple, he turned and walked to the counter. He uncorked the glass whiskey bottle and grabbed two small glasses. "Death Sticks are something the First Order has been wanting to get their hands on for a while. It's a highly addictive, dangerous narcotic. You're lucky you only took half because it's said than an entire vial of that stuff causes a very slow, very painful death." he starts to pour a little whiskey into each glass. He turns and sets one down on one side of the table, placing the other in front of his seat, he sits down and motions a hand, suggesting I sit in front of him. "Although I will say that you mixed the Death Stick with a shit ton of other drugs- some stuff I didn't know existed." he lets out a little scoff, it's mixed with a laugh of disbelief. "So forgive me when you say you need something in your system, my mind goes straight yo watching you convulse on my bed."
A trickle of sweat rolls down my neck. I have a feeling this is going to be a very long night.
The words are scraped out of me, like trying to scrape out the last of the butter from the tub with a spoon. My throat is dry, like sandpaper. I push myself up. I ignore the pull of the wires attached to my body. There's an ache in between my ribs. I stretch, rolling out my shoulders and neck and arms. "How long was I out?"
Kylo finally lifts his head slowly. "Two days." dark circles are shadowed under his eyes, making him seem darker. Scarier. He's looking at me like he's not sure I'm real. I look down at my body, covered in a white silk patient robe. I think I'm real. I think I've alive. He doesn't move from the chair, doesn't get up, doesn't speak anything else other than those two words that tell me a lot but also nothing. "The medic said you flatlined twice. They had to revive you on the table." he paused. "You're lucky to be alive." The word feels like a sinister joke. Lucky. None of this is lucky.
"Cool." I sniffle and look away from him. I don't remember much. Well I don't remember anything at all, just fragmented moments. I rub my hand against my nose, the tube in my arm sends a sharp pain of protest at every movement, I almost yank it out right then and there. But the way Kylo is watching my ever move makes me think otherwise. "So where's my ship?" I ask, making light conversation. "I got more jobs to do."
He stares. And Stares. And stares for what feels like a decade. He doesn't even blink. I think I started some kind of staring contest I didn't know about. I lose. "Your ship." he says slowly. His voice isn't loud or quiet, it's even. Too calm. Something had to have happened while I was out. Aside from the whole flatlining thing. "It's in the Finalizer's docking bay." oh. That makes sense. That must be where we are, his stupid big ugly ass ship.
He rises from the chair making me feel small. I forgot how big he actually is. Six feet tall. He stands over the bed I'm on, his arms cross across his chest. "You nearly died, y/n. Twice. You flatlined on my bed and we barely got you stable enough to travel through the jump in hyperspace. I watched the color drain from your face while I performed CPR on you." his gaze is almost icy, it makes me feel like a small child getting in trouble, like a kid caught with their hand in the cookie jar.
I think... I feel guilty.
"The first thing you ask is about a job."
Okay. Now hearing it from him, I sound like an absolute idiot. Any average person would ask if they're okay. What happened? More information on where they are. "Just find my clothes Ren. I gotta get out of here." but anyway, I was never good with the hospital thing. I'm not a sick patient who needs to be doctored. I don't need tests run on me, I don't want people to ask questions or wonder or poke or prod, I've had enough of strangers hands on me to last two life times.
The words come out harsh, but I mean them. I always mean every single thing I say, which just makes me wonder what I said to him, if I said anything at all. Maybe I'll ask but I don't think I'm brave enough for the answer. I swing my legs over the edge of the medical bed, the thin blanket pools on the floor as I stand. The movement pulls at the IV. Little pinpricks of pain erupt over my arms but it's nothing that I've never felt before.
The movement makes Kylo look down at my arms. The tiny, circular scars along the inside of my elbow catch his attention. I cross my arms over my chest. Kylo doesn't move, doesn't fulfill my request to get my clothes. His voice is flat, lacking of emotion it almost feels more comforting than the notes of fury and pain from before. I'm almost about to yank out the IV but Kylo stops me. "You pull that out, you'll bleed on the floor. The medic will have to come back and re-tape you. That'll take another twenty minutes you could be spending in transit. I narrow my eyes at him and yet he doesn't back down. I don't have time for games like this, no such thing as relaxation or a day off for people like me. "Or, you can wait five minutes while I call a droid to come disconnect you, then you and I can walk out of here without leaving a bloody trail."
I sit my ass back down.
Kylo watches me for a moment longer then reaches over and grabs a datapad from the table beside my bed. He doesn't sit down when the droid turns the corner and comes into the room. It's multiple hands all work synonymously making me shiver in stress. I want nothing more than to break it's little legs off. Nothing in the world needs twelve arms or legs. The droid slowly pulls the IV from my arm after disconnecting it. He presses a thick cotton to my arm and then wraps a bandage around it tightly. It beeps a few times and Kylo nods, thanking it, the droid zips away off to hopefully die in a corner, but that's wishful thinking. The silence that follows the droids departure is heavy.
"You look like you've seen a force ghost." I offer, a scratchy laugh escaping in an attempt at being humorous. It falls flat along with every other thing in this room. I roll my eyes and stand up again, really focusing on getting some feeling back in my legs. "That wasn't the first time I've flatlined- first time I've had real medical help afterward, so thanks for that." I explained. I moved to the locker and changed out of the silk robe into First Order grade clothing. No one's gonna trust me in this get up once I leave. My attempt at humor, and to instill some kind of normality doesn't land either. "You talk about dying like a game."
"Isn't it?" I shrugged, untying the silk robe. I don't even care that he's watching me get naked and redress. He's seen it all, and more, before, so I doubt this will phase him. "Most people when they flatline, they come back different. Softer. Grateful." he paused. "You come back cracking jokes."
"What do you want from me?" I whirl around and a wave of dizziness washes over me from the quick movement. I stick my hand out to grasp at the wall to help me keep my balance. Kylo stands up a little straighter, more rigid. "What do you want from me? Boo fucking hoo, I almost died. I don't need a pity party. Shit fucking happens, Ren. People die every day and yeah, it sucks. But I'm here. Alive."
This is exactly why I wished I had died, I can't put up with his bullshit like this. He's never once given a single fuck about me using drugs. He liked when I was high during sex, multiple times he's said it right to my fucking face how much he prefers it. "People die everyday." he whispers, like he can't believe what I just said. "Yes. They do. I've killed enough of them to know that." he takes a few steps closer until he's right in front of me. My hands, pulling up the black pants stop. "But you're not people, y/n. You never were."
I swallow. The feeling of my dry throat trying to swallow makes it ache. "If only Snoke saw you now." I grin sinisterly up at him. He needs to step the fuck back and get out of my space. I shake my head, unbelieving of his attitude. He's softening. He's corrupt. He's supposed to be this strong, imposing leader, and here he is comparing my life to that of the population. If it came down to me or power, he'd kill me for all the power in the world. I laugh right in his face. "He'd have a field day. Self proclaimed Supreme Leader Kylo Ren, playing nurse to a smuggler who can't even handle her own stash." I finally button the pants and turn around. I grab the tight black t-shirt and slip it on over my naked skin. I turn to look over my shoulder at him. "Bet that'd really impress him. How weak you get for a girl." the words are light and deliberate push, testing how far I can take it before he snaps. To my surprise, he doesn't say anything. I tuck the shirt into the pants and wrap the thick black belt around my waist.
Kylo's hand comes up and I flinch slightly as he presses it against the locker door. It slams shut in front of me and I take a step backward in surprise. My back bumps into his chest. "Your ship is in Docking Bay 3. Would you like for me to walk you there?" he leans down and whispers in my ear lowly. I freeze. He's not even touching me, not really. I can feel the heat from his body. He's always been so warm and soft. "No thank you. I'll find it on my own." I turned around to face him again. He doesn't say anything, just stares down at me. I step to the side, his arm is still leaning on the locker. I find my boots on the floor by the door. I slip them on, finally wearing clothing that actually fit me. The shirt's arms went over mine and the pants were a little bit too high wasted. I'm glad I didn't have a mirror because I did not want to know what I looked like.
I slip my boots on and lace them up. Neither of us speak to each other. I cannot believe we didn't have sex. I mean I know my issue kinda ruined the vibes a bit, but before that? He didn't even try and sleep with me? Maybe he's not as soft as I thought. Maybe he's losing interest in the game we have going on here. Either way, I can't worry about that now. I was out for two days, which means I have less money than before. At least I have those vials I can sell to some poor sap. I finish tying the laces and stand up, a wave of dizziness washes over me from the constant motions. I probably shouldn't be standing right now but oh well. I'm about to walk through the door when Kylo calls out, "Y/n." I pause in the doorway but don't turn around. I know if I do I won't be walking away any time soon, and I have a job to do. He has to be a leader. Neither of us have the time for this. "Don't make me find you like that again."
It felt like the air in the room shifted, to our light banter, my mocking to something serious. It makes the hair on the back of my neck raise and goosebumps litter my skin. I don't reply, I just scurry away down the hall like a scared little kid.
I find the Midnight Runner, my ship, my everything, tucked into a corner of the Finalizer's Docking Bay. It's surrounded by those sleek TIEs and ominous shuttles. My ship looks like a scrap of metal that was supposed to be impounded but now lies forgotten. It may look ugly, but it's fast, and smooth, and quiet. And I too built a lot of it myself, bought it, tore it apart and put it back together all on my own. It's ugly. It's mismatched and multi-colored, but it's home. My home. The only thing I've ever felt okay belonging too.
I climb aboard, the familiar smell of stale caf and recirculated air washes over me like gentle rain. I drop into the cockpit, ready to punch in coordinates to just about anywhere that isn't here, put Kylo Ren and the First Order all behind me. But something just feels off.
It's clean in here. The scent of something clean. Like soap. Cleaning products, even the air it feels the same but now that I'm really paying attention, it doesn't even smell the same. The cockpit is clean. Too clean. It's empty of the ration bars I used to toss around haphazardly while flying, no crumpled notes and papers. Even the two datapads I had were stacked neatly in the charging port. I don't remember doing that. And I didn't have a droid to do thing's for me like most people did. I reach down under my seat where I always kept of bottle of whiskey, just something to help keep me away on longer hyperspace journeys, was missing. My stomach drops, heart plummeting.
I tear through the cargo hold, storage compartments, every single hidden panel. Behind my stack of clothing in the bottom drawer, the ceiling I popped open once and forgot about a stash of spice there, it was all gone. Every single thing I liked to indulge in was missing. Not even one of those glowing vials that I stole from Ren. Not a gram of any kind of spice left behind, not even a speck of dust where the spice once was. It was like everything was wiped clean. Devoid of any mess, any reminder of what I am, what I do.
Anger. I'm so angry. It burns heavy in my chest and the longer I search my ship, practically tear it apart it burns brighter and hotter than any fury I've ever felt. My hands are trembling, there's a small shimmer of need, of hunger. I keep staring at the same spot I tore into blinking. Staring. Hoping every time I close my eyes when I open them my spice will just magically come back. The name tears out of me, echoing around the empty cargo room, carrying out into the docking bay of the Finalizer's hangar, "Ren!"
When I wake up again, I'm not in my ship. In fact, it looks incredibly foreign to me. I blink, mind groggy and whole body aching. There's a deep pressure on my chest, like I just learned how to breathe again. I can barely open my eyes wider than little slits, they feel like pure lead. I'm entirely exhausted, not just my mind, by my body, my soul. Like everything I had was just sucked out of me. The air smells sterile. My body sucks in deep breaths over and over again, almost as if it was afraid that I would run out of oxygen. A soft beep ticks in a steady rhythm beside my head.
The light above me doesn't flicker, doesn't shiver or move, so I know I'm not on a gurney of some sort, not in a hospital. So if I wasn't in my own bed, and I hadn't been transported to a medical clinic? Where the fuck was I?
I try to move. My limbs are heavy, uncooperative. There's a few wires dangling from my left arm. I try and lift my right up to pull the wires out from my skin, but I can't lift my hand for too long before gravity just yanks it down again. Another snakes across my collarbone, taped down right above my heart. And if my sense of touch is finally coming back full swing, I believe there's one on the side of my head. I try and let out a groan, a sound, a question, a scream, anything but my throat only works inside, no actual sound was expended.
A shadow shifts to my left making my body go rigid.
I can just tilt my head slightly to the left, eyes looking more than my head can tilt. Kylo Ren sits in a chair, elbows resting on his knees, head bowed. His gloves are off, his mask is off. His fingers dangle loosely between his spread thighs. He still has on the armor, no cape though, which is a first since I've seen him within the past day and a half. How long have I been out again?
"You're awake." he doesn't look up but his fingers twitch.
SIX HOURS EARLIER
I don't go find Kylo. Today is a day to celebrate, my 50th mission that didn't end in a blaster fight, a murder, or any kind of bloodshed, in a row! I felt like the only woman in the galaxy.
I settle my ship back down on the same Hangar from earlier, on a relatively useless planet, despite it's importance in my personal history, it'll remain unknown and irrelevant long after I die. Once again, I find myself scouring through Ren's crates of unknown Spice vials again. Orange or yellow?
Orange comes before yellow so that must mean it's better right? Makes sense to me. I uncork the vial and the luminescent liquid shimmers in the tube. It doesn't have a scent. I stick a new clean needle inside the vial, and pull up on the handle, sucking the orange liquid inside. I only fill the needle up about halfway. That should be fine right? The vial still has more than half it's contents inside. I head to my bed in the corner and sit down, staring at the needle in my hand. It's tiny. And I don't know what this spice does. But it can't be much different from any other spice I've had before.
Without a second thought I lift up my sleeve, just above my elbow. I line it up right where a few other marks are. The needle slides into my skin easily, too easily. It's always easy. I remember the first time I tried it. I was too nervous, the needle pierced right through my skin and I started bleeding. I no longer feel the pinch or the sting and the slight amount of blood that bubbles up when I pull the needle away no longer sends me into a panic.
I press down on the syringe and watch as the orange liquid disappears into my veins.
I can't even finish injecting it because my vision blurs. I let out a happy giggle, that was the fasted high I've ever had. The needle clatters to the floor in front of me, rolling away. I'm seeing double of everything. The entire world is muffled, quiet, nothing matters anymore. I'm sleepy. Not the same way other drugs make me, it's not a calm, it's like all the adrenaline in me just stopped. I slump against my bed, staring up at the ceiling. My mind swims, my head pounds, I feel like I'm underwater. There's something so sad about drowning. So melancholy. I've always been afraid of it, yet my body also seeks it.
Everything goes dark. Not just my vision, but the very essence of my is lost in the void. My breathing is too shallow, too slow, each exhale a little fainter than the last and relish in it. The slowness. My life is always so quick, so fast paced I never really get the chance to live. While I lied there, practically on the brink of death, I had never felt so alive.
Kylo finds me like this. I can hear him, I can feel him, but it's like I'm far away. Like an echo. I think that it's possibly just a dream. A silly conjuring of my own consciousness to try to come to terms with what I've done. What have I done?
I can hear my name being repeated over and over, the ghostly touch of his hands on my shoulders. I wonder what all the panic is about? His fingers glide across my throat and I try and work out the words, 'not now Ren' but nothing comes out. I can hear him a little clearer. If I work hard enough, I can open my eyes just a little bit to see what all the raucous is. The first thing I see isn't Ren, it's the mess on the floor. Spice is scattered across the ground haphazardly, and the fresh needle I used was there too, stationary. Still filled with a bit of that orange stuff, and a few drops of my blood. Cool.
Two hands press against my chest. "Come on... Come on." he grunts, I can feel the force of it pressing down, release, pressing down, release. After a particularly deep push, my lungs suck in a deep breath. My eyes open a little wider. I push against his wrists, feeling the armor wrapped around it. There's no force behind my motion, I don't have the energy for much. "Nghhh.. shhh m'sleeping." I slurred. My tongue feels heavy in my mouth. The world still feels hazy and slow, like the rest of this planet does. My bed feels soft, warm, welcoming. Like touching someone's skin after being away for so long. Like a warm hug from a mother I never knew. Kylo's voice is somewhere out there, above me, next to me? I don't know. He doesn't let go, he doesn't stop. "You're not sleeping. You're dying." his voice is so low I almost didn't hear it. "What did you take y/n?" he sounds panicked. "If I have to make you throw up I will." His voice is a grating sound, scraping along the edges of my brain making it ache. "Didn't take nothing." I whispered, letting myself linger in the warmth. "Bullshit.." he mutters back, cupping my jaw. His hand tilts my head back, and I can see him finally.
His hair dangles in his face. It's always so long. So pretty. So soft too. He likes it when I run my fingers through it, even if he denies it. I know his truth. The darkness wraps around me like a blanket and I let it's warmth consumed me. "Don't you dare close your eyes. Y/n, look at me!"
I sink into the silence. I let the warmth slide over me like a shower, washing away my fears, my anxieties, my hopes and dreams. Nothing. It all means nothing to me now. Something above me flickers light a light bulb. Maybe a memory? Maybe a reminder? But it's gone before I can give it too much thought or attention. It calls my name. Once. Twice. But the light makes my head ache and I can't do it, not like this. I never wanted to do it. I never asked for this. What did I do? How did I get here? Where am I? Asleep? Dreaming? Somewhere in between. I always figured that there was an in between. You can't have that magical force stuff without an in between.
If you think about it, there's always a balance to the world. There's the light, there's the dark. But in order to have both, there's a point that has to be plotted. An in between. Neutral. Not good, not bad, just there. I always believed I was a neutral. Now, I don't think it matters anymore.
The dark feels good.
It's warm. Quiet. I let it take me down the current until these thoughts that kept me here started to lag. We all know there is nothing. But what comes after the nothing? Is it rebirth? The final death? I don't know but I think I've found it.
A sharp jolt cuts through the dark. I'm moving. Running. But my legs don't touch the ground. Maybe I'm flying. Not in a ship, there's no air in space but I can feel cool air brush against my face. Plus if I was flying in space I'd be dead. Maybe I am dead. Maybe I am in space. Maybe I've become a star. I think I'd like that, to be a star.
But no, I'm being moved. Arms beneath me, strong, sturdy. They're warm too. It's a deliberate hold, my head is pressed against a chest. Humming. No not a hum, a beat like a drum. It's wild, strong, it keeps me lucid enough. "You with me?" Kylo. I'd know that voice anywhere. The light changes from dark to bright. Always with the brightness? I thought dying was supposed to be darkness? Why is there white just everywhere all the time? It's getting a little annoying.
There's a rustle of sheets and then the contact leaves me. I'm being placed down. I can hear another voice, not just his, the cold presses in on me like ice. My eyes open a fracture, trying to get a better reading on where I am, where we are. I recognize it, only slightly. It's a basic medical room. No posters, just white lights and a medical droid. I hate those thing's, they always scare the shit out of me. All those arms and beady little robotic eyes. I shiver runs down my spine. Is it always meant to be cold here? The frozen arms leave me and I try and cling onto the warmth for as long as I can but it won't leave. I start to shiver.
A hand wraps around mine. Delicately. I don't think I've ever been held delicately. "I'm not done with you yet," he murmurs, pressing a kiss (I think) against the back of my hand. "So don't you dare be done with me."
I don't realize I've spoken until after he responds. "Let... me go." it's a request, or maybe an accusation. He's letting me go. Each syllable felt like a personal battle. "No." he says. He's never said no to me, not for anything. He's already decided and there's no room for argument. So what do I do? I argue back. My tongue and my throat try and work but every time I move it feels like I'm choking on air. He leans closer, and I can feel the warmth of his breath on my forehead. "You don't get to do that," his voice is quieter but I can hear him better, he's closer to my ear now. "You don't get to walk into my life, dig your way into my skin, and then just... let go. Not after everything." he says it, not just to me but my entire body. My soul, my skin, my heart, my mind.
"So stay. That's an order." my body feels a flare of warmth but it's dull, a reminder that I'm on the verge of death. I didn't do it on purpose, or maybe a part of me did do it on purpose. "It's so quiet.." I realized. There wasn't a single noise that mattered anymore. I could see his lips move but I couldn't hear him anymore. My fingers twitch against the bunk, I want to reach out and touch him. One last time. Kylo's hand presses deeper into my skin. I wish we could just forge together, be one. I wish I could be the thing he deserves.
There's something different about Kylo recently. He's grown soft. He's a changed man. It makes my chest ache. He needs someone good. Someone who will guide him down the path to righteousness. Not me. I like his darkness. I like the depth of his despair, how it makes him work harder, prove he deserves and wants me, he needs me. Oh I need him too. More than I need air to breathe.
"Wha- what's hap-happening.. Ky?" my voice is barely there, a thread of line I cannot hear but I know I said it, because I can feel the vibrations in my throat and chest. I've never called him that before. "You're overdosing." he whispered, looking straight down at me. He stands above me like an angel. Angels are real. I can feel it in this moment. "You're dying y/n."
It's without a crash or a burning realization, but calm steady. Tears well up in my eyes, and I know, I know it more than I can speak basic. I know it more than I know myself. I am dying. Right here in front of him. It scares me. It excites me. He's telling the truth, Kylo Ren doesn't lie to me. He doesn't pretend, he doesn't bluff or give false ideations to a reality in which we won't ever be apart of. It's why I liked him so much, there truly were no strings attached. No hope that he and I could live in a world peacefully, because there was no hint of a 'him and I'.
Finally I will be at peace, and maybe Kylo will find the one. The right one. I will always be the person telling him to indulge in his worst fantasies. He's killed, destroyed entire planets and yet I love it. I love that we destroy ourselves and others, I would kill for him and he would kill for me. His hand pats my cheek a few times and I blink my eyes open as much as I can, really take a look at him. His long black hair. It reaches his shoulders now. The brown of his eyes. They're dark and sad and tired. Tired of me probably. But he won't have to worry about it any longer because I'll be okay. Death was never something I learned to fear, in fact I appreciate it. With every unsteady beat of my overworking heart, and every tick of the chrono on the wall, my life inches closer to the brink of death. The world narrows and my eyes flutter, but there's still some thing's I have to say to him, thing's I want him to hear before it's impossible for him to know.
"But I'm not going to let that happen, okay sweetheart? So you're going to stay awake." his thumb rubs along the length of my jaw soothingly, his voice soft like chocolate. It's almost tender. Delicate. He touches me so delicately it makes the bones under my skin ache with relief. Or maybe it's pain. "You're going to keep talking to me. You're going to detox, then you're going to owe me an explanation." he leaned closer and kissed my temple sweet. Soft. I let out a whimper because I know it won't happen.
He's never lied to me before. Not until now. I cannot see a possibility where I live through this. My chest feels tight, like it's about to explode. "I'm too tired.." I whispered back. With a final surge of strength, I raise my hand and press it weakly against his, the one holding my cheek. His skin is warm against my palm. "I did my job Ky... Did I do a good job?" I hiccup through sobs. The wetness slips down the sides of my face and disappears into my hair. My stomach aches with every sob and jolt of of your body.
Did I do a good job?
Kylo's breath catches. His thumb pauses against my cheek. His dark eyes search my face. He can probably see how my fingers tremble against his hand, it's taking everything in me to keep my hand there. I have never been this weak before. The salty tears, the uneven breaths. I'm just a broken girl lying in a medical wing, dying. "Yes." his voice is rough as he nods, his other hand comes up and he cups both cheeks in his hands. "You did such a good job sweetheart. You always do y/n." his voice is so soothing. Another sob erupts from my body. What have I done?
He kisses my temple again and with a nod he pulls back slightly. "You can rest now." his thumb swipes across my forehead it feels wet. Blood? Was I bleeding? Did I hit my head? Probably water but I don't remember being wet. Maybe sweat then. Does it even matter anymore? He looks down at me and smiles. Or at least gives me the closest thing he can to a smile. It's not sarcastic or unkind or cruel like his usual smirk, it's soft, easy. "I-I'll-" whatever I was going to say gets cut off. My eyes roll back, and everything goes dark again. Kylo's strong arms wrap around my body, pulling my off my back until I think I'm sitting. "Medic! Now- she's seizing!"
Kylo stands there with a clipboard, looking through the different crates. "Everything is in there." is said, looking around his ship in wonder. This wasn't like any First Order fleet I've been inside, and trust me I've been in a few. It wasn't black or red it was just normal. Less First Order chic and more average. Under the radar. "New digs. I like it." I complimented, sitting on a plush looking couch, it was more uncomfortable than it looked. Exactly how I like it. "I built it myself." he mumbles, staring at the charts with pristine focus. And by building it himself, he means he picked the design and someone else did this all for him. "I'm missing a crate." he speaks up, turning to look at me. "No you're not Ren." I said in a sing-song voice, pulling my feet under me. "This is five. The manifest said six, we both know you're a smart girl."
I furrow my eyebrows too, two can play at this game. "The message I received said only five crates." Kylo is silent. I'm silent. Neither of us know when to back down from a fight. "Five." Kylo repeats. "Five crates. A mysterious client from last night and you. Standing in my transport, high." he sets his clipboard down on the table and turns to me completely. "You wanna tell me what you're doing y/n, cause to me it seems like you want to fuck this up for me." I scoff and glare at him. "Don't you dare try to tell me I'm doing my job wrong! I don't tell you how to play with magic light swords, so don't tell me how to smuggle spice for you, your highness." I stand up and walk over to him, not like there's anywhere else to go. He'd just find me and pull me back. Not that I'm complaining. "If I told you what to do you'd just choke me."
Kylo's head tilts. "Is that an offer?" for once I'm speechless. Speechless in a 'oh shit what did i just do' rather than in a 'ha ha he's too stupid to argue back I'm winning' kind of way. I swallow thickly and look down at the ground between us. "I'm making you some caf, you need to get rid of this high you're on. And no- I won't choke you. Not yet anyway."
He moves down a small hallway. I follow after him. The sound of his boots reverberates around me like a constant reminder of who's in charge here. It makes my eyes roll. The short hallway leads to a mix between a kitchen and a bedroom. In the corner of the room is the bed, looking pristine. The other side of the room is some cabinets, a sink, a fridge. I sit down on the mattress. It's firm but has a little give to it. His bedroom is sparse, nothing on the walls, no decorations or a poster. Kylo rummages around the kitchenette area, getting the drink ready for me. "What are you doing y/n?" Kylo repeats, voice soft, more concerned than doubtful. "Are we really going to keep dancing around it until someone gets hurt?" he turns and leans against the counter. Despite being a few feet away, I've never felt this far from him, like we're on opposite sides of the universe.
My voice cuts through the bedrooms sterile hum, louder than the sound of the caf being poured from the machine. "Oh my god... You're so boring ever since you became Supreme Leader. I wish you never killed that guy. I liked you more when you were his little bitch-" it's loud, echoes around the room like a sinister taunt. Kylo moves across the small space faster than I thought possible. His hand closes around my jaw again, my words dying on my tongue before they're ever born. It's not a squeeze, but a reminder. The caf machine beeps behind him but he doesn't return which sucks cause I really wanted that drink. "Say that again." he murmurs low. My eyes widen a little, stomach rolling. That voice. Deep, melancholy. He's not even that mad at me, I've seen him mad at me. This is word. He's pitying me. It's more dangerous than any shout. His thumb presses against the hinge of jaw, just shy of painful. The ship hums indifferent to our battle. His face leans down, lips almost in contact with mine.
I hum and grin, looking right up into those deep brown eyes of him. They say the eyes are windows to the soul, his are dark. Warm. Rich. But not soft, never soft. I always wondered what his soul looked like compared to mine. "No." I whispered softly, defiantly. This game of tango just got a lot more interesting. My gaze is hazy, slow, long blinks, soft puffs of air escape from between my lips. We breathe each other in, I can taste him on my tongue. If I just push up onto my toes I could kiss him. We haven't been this close in two months. Two months I've gone without his touch. I've let so many other men and women put their hands on me, but his is the only one that lights my skin on fire. Like a phoenix being reborn from it's own ashes. I've never felt so high.
Kylo's hand tightens on my jaw a fraction, the pressure blooms in a spike of heat and pain along the bone, it'll definitely ache for a while after this. His breath is warm, fanning across my face, tension so thick not even his little magic wand could slice through it. I can feel it now, his longing, I know he wants to kiss me. I know he's going to take me right here, right on this bed or over the counter or on the floor. I'll have him however he wants me.
Something flickers in his eye. It doesn't diminish, the flame burns brighter. I gasp when his other hand comes up and grabs my hip, he walks me backwards away from the bed and slams me against the wall roughly. My head smacks against the steel making my let out a whimper but he ignores me. The caf machine beeps again. That thing is needy. "You think because you're high I won't make you regret that mouth of yours?" his voice is low, rough, right against my ear. I finally reach up, my hands fist around the cloth of his cloak, holding onto him tightly, like he might disappear if I don't. "You think I won't enjoy watching you try to talk your way out of this?" his hand slides from my jaw to my throat. It lacks pressure but it definitely doesn't lack dominance. It's a reminder of how easily he could choke the life out of me. My lower stomach aches with a pressure that gets stronger with every heartbeat. I want him. No, I need him.
"Did he teach you how to do this Ren? To put your hands on a lady?"
He smirks, glaring down at me like I disgust him but I know the truth. I know he can't get enough of me. "You're not a lady." he starts, voice rougher than earlier. My heart plummets a little. Either I'm about to be really fucked till next Tuesday, or it'll be my funeral. "He taught me a lot of thing's." his thumb strokes along the side of my throat, his eyes watch his own movements. "But I figured out how to handle you on my own." his gaze returns to mine. The spice curls hazily in my veins and I'm unsure of how to process this. I hang on to every word like he's a preacher teaching me the ways of the force, but every word goes in one ear and right out the other. "I missed you." he says, the words a confession and regret he's already sworn to never speak of again.
I can't look him in the eye after that. So I don't. My eyes flutter shut and I let the tranquility of the drugs ease my overloading system. "Don't make me laugh Ren." I whispered, trying to combat the unsteady rhythm of my heart. It's going to beat out of my chest. I need him so bad. Those three words linger in the air like stale smoke after a wood fire. It makes it hard to breathe. His hand doesn't move. The pressure doesn't ease. My legs feel like jelly but his whole body is pressed against mine, keeping me standing. "y/n." he says, voice low and stripped of that commanding edge he's perfected. "Look at me."
I don't.
The hand on my throat finally eases, but doesn't stop touching me. His fingers graze along the skin of my neck until his pointer and thumb curve around my chin, tilting my head up more. I resist for a second, but I can't control myself around him for long. "I mean it. And it pisses me off that I do."
I don't think he's planning on fucking me any time soon. I need to get out of here. My eyes snap open, clear headed and feeling less brittle. "You can't say that shit to me." I unfurl my fists from his cloak and push. He hardly moves back a step, but it wasn't about the force behind my touch, but the meaning. Back off. And so he did. The space between us floods with cold air and I can finally breathe in properly again. My breaths come back, deep and uneven, trying to suck in all that recycled air. The phoenix has died again. "I don't have time for games Ren. I have a shipment to run to Corellia, so if you could please let my ship have access to pass through their system unscathed, that'd be great."
He stands there, arms limp at his sides, watching me with an expression that I don't care to name. "Corellia." he says, like the word is foreign. "That's where you're headed?"
The caf machine beeps for a third time. Kylo's hand shoots backward and his fists clench, with a shrieking wine from the caf machine, it's steel seems to bend in on itself until the shrill beep dulls and the machine dies, a crumpled looking block on the counter. "Fine. I'll clear a path." he says, as if he didn't just destroy a caf machine with his bare hands. It should scare me, him using the force so outwardly like that, but it doesn't. It doesn't even phase me in the slightest. Although I will say, he's genuinely mad. He's never really done that before. Damn, maybe he did actually miss me. The thought makes my heart flutter and stomach churn at the same time. "When you're done on Corellia, come back here. We're not done, y/n. You and I both know that."
I scoff and roll my eyes. "We'll see." I turn on my heel and strut out of the bedroom, down the hallway and down the ramp. I don't look back, I can't afford to.
The flight to Corellia wasn't anything special, in fact, it was boring. I sat in the cockpit, humming along to childhood songs I made up as a kid, melody's that felt both near and distant. And just like I requested, nobody even asked me what my business was here. It really does pay off to have First Order contacts. I wonder what else he could get me clearance into.
While I was in hyperspace, I push off from the cockpit chair and stagger to the back cargo hold where I had left Kylo's sixth crate. I riffle through the Spices in there. The entire crate is filled with little red and yellow vials, it's not like any kind of spice I've ever seen before. I huff and stuff one into a pocket of my leather jacket, maybe someone on Coruscant will tell me what it is. Hey, maybe I can even sell a few if they're good for profit. Maybe my contact will know something about them.
I do partake in a few other bumps of Spices I actually understand. Just a little something to help me get the edge off that only Kylo Ren can give me. My entire body feels like it's erupted in chills, and I can still feel the ghost of his touch lingering on my skin. I shiver. I can't stand him. While the ship is still in hyperspace, and the drugs in my system will take a moment to settle in, I hop into the refresher for a nice hot shower.
The water glides across my naked skin. I wash my hair first, the soap and suds run along my body disappearing down the drain. My muscles ache, from what I don't know. I haven't gotten into a physical altercation in weeks. I wash my body next with some kind of floral soap I just stole last week from a market on Naboo. I had only stayed there for three days, girls like me don't belong on nice planets such as that. By the time I'm finished with the shower, I'm stumbling through the ship, trying to see through the haze of spice. It's not something I haven't done before, mix them, but I kinda forgot I took a little bit earlier, so my calculations are a little fucked up.
Time passes. I'm not sure how long, but one moment I'm standing, wrapped in a towel, and the next my ship is chirping with the notification that we're coming out of hyperspace, and I'm lying on the floor.
I push myself to sit up, I'm now fully dry. Fully dry and freezing. I feel the ship lurch as I finally drop out of hyperspace. I hum and sit up, pushing myself against the wall. I take deep, calming breaths, trying to relax myself before I end up throwing up everywhere or curling into a ball. When I can finally stand without feeling like I'm gonna fall over or puke, I get changed. I wear a v neck elbow length sleeved creme colored top, a v neck black vest and my black cargo pants. I lace up my boots, they go up to my knee. They're brown and I fasted a piece of cloth to the inside where I put my vibroblade. I click the holster around my waist again, my blaster sliding into it's spot easily.
The drop on Corellia goes smooth as butter.
It's atmosphere kisses my skin as I walk down the ramp, toward the cantina I was told about on the data chip with the details and coordinates. It's on the edge of Coronet City's industrial district. I do as told, ordering a Corellian ale. I don't drink it, I doubt anyone would ever drink this. I wait. A woman in a mechanic's jumpsuit slides into the stool beside me. "Waiting for the race results?" she asks, eyes on the holoscreen above the bar. "Still waiting for the final lap." I replied smoothly, swirling the ale in the glass without even sparing her a glance. She slides a cylinder across the counter, and I show her mine. We exchange. "Can I ask you a question?" I asked, staring at the holoscreen above us. She freezes and stares at me warily. "A question pertaining to what?" she asks skeptically, I don't take it to heart. I dig into my pocket and pull out the vile. "Can you tell me what kinda spice this is?" I finally look over at her. She stares at the little vile for a moment, studying it. She nods once. Then two times. "Yes. I believe that it's a vile of Spice. It comes from a planet called Balosar." she narrows her eyes and then looks up at me. "It's made with something called Ixtel Cilona and a kind of Balo Mushroom. I'd be careful with that one sweetheart, don't take more than a half a vile. It's good for incapacitating enemies." she nods and then disappears into the crowd without sparing me a second glance. She's gone before the ale stops simmering. I'm back in space before the bartender comes around asking for me to pay.
I guess that answered my questions. Incapacitating enemies... I can work with that.
It was clean, quiet, professional. Exactly what I've trained for, exactly what I know how to do. I try and keep the smile to myself as I bored the ship, but I think this does call for some kind of celebration, don't you think?
I push through the cantina's door into the alley. I didn't go out the front door, but the back. I was along the streets, the moon lighting the way for me. The night air is cool against my skin. I feel hot. Warm. A little burnt. There's still that remnant of embarrassment lingering inside me, but I brush it off. My watch chimes again with another reminder.
VIP client, bay 12, private shuttle, waiting
I pick up the pace a little, weaving through the crowd outside the cantina. People far sketchier than me linger out back, selling other drugs that even I wouldn't dream of touching. I finally spot a sleek shuttle, something that looked intricate, hand made, not the kind of thing you'd find in a place like this. Whoever owns this means serious business. The ramp is down. A figure, cloaked, small compared to the size of the shuttle, stands at the bottom waiting for me. I pause before them, and realize that the facial features are that of a human female. "Right on time." she purrs. It's polished. Professional. Like she knows she's smarter than me. She smells like daddy's money and politics. It stinks. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about me." she lifts her head a little more, the hood of the cloak falls down to her shoulders. Smooth brown skin, sharp cheekbones, dark eyes. She's dressed no different than me, dark colors, a blaster at her hip. But on her it looks like a costume, and me it looks like just another part of my skin. Something about her screams professional. "I'm told you have something for me... Off the books." she crosses her arms over her chest staring me down. She's not much taller than me, but everything about her reeks of confidence. I'd say I'm a pretty confident girl, but her attitude is strong. Maybe she doesn't use blasters or fight, but she's strong. Probably more emotionally than physically.
I nodded in response. "However you want me ma'am." The woman's lips curl into an appreciative smile. She steps aside and waves both her hands up the ramp. "However I want you. I like the sound of that. Come inside, we'll talk business." her cloak sweeps behind her as she turns and heads up the ramp. I follow her up. She doesn't close it behind us, it's almost like she trusts that the world will stop and won't listen to a single thing we have to say.
The interior is polished, warm, a far cry from the grimy cantina. Soft amber lighting, plush seats, a small table with two glasses already set up, empty. The interior is completely white and creme and a clean tan color. It's so unlike the usual black and red of Kylo's ships, and definitely not like my brown and grey ship interior. "Nice ship you have here." I compliment, making small talk as I sit at one of the seats. She turns to a cabinet and pulls out a glass. "Do you drink whiskey my dear, if not I have water and wine." she glances back once at me as she opens up another cabinet, show casing the other drinks in her possession. "Whiskey is fine." I agree and she lets out a gentle hum. She turns and pours the both of us a good amount of whiskey before finally sitting down across from me. "I'm not here to waste your time and I suspect you're not here to waste mine." she says, getting right to business. She lifts her glass, swirling the liquid and staring straight into the brown liquor. "I need a courier for a package. Small, discreet, and it needs to reach a contact on Corellia within the standard week." her eyes meet mine over the rim. "The pay is triple your usual rate. In advance."
"That's fine. But I'll need First Order clearance- which I can get, but it'll cost you a little... Extra." she holds my gaze for a moment, then a slow smile spreads across her face. She reaches into her cloak and produces a credit chip, sliding across the polished table its bronze catches in the amber light. "First Order clearance." she taps the chip with a manicured nail and a smirk flickers across her lips. "There's five thousand credits on here. Half now. Another half when the package reaches Corellia." she leans back and finally takes a sip of her drink. "You get the clearance codes, I'll add in another two for your troubles." her eyes don't leave mine. "The package itself is small. Data cylinder, encrypted. Nothing that'll explode or draw too much attention if you're smart about it." she pauses and sets her drink down, fully empty. "But if you're not smart about it- if it gets opened or copied, the encryption will wipe itself clean. So don't get curious." she pushes the credit chip closer to me. "Do we have a deal miss l/n?"
"Yes ma'am. I think we do. Lastly, I'll need drop off instructions." her smile only deepens. She reaches into her cloak for a second time and hands me a data card. "All the details are on here. Who the contact is, coordinates to drop it off at, the works. Memorize the instructions, then destroy it. Standard protocol." she waits until I nod in confirmation to continue. I slide the data chip into my pocket for safe keeping. "The contact will find you. You won't need to find them. When you land on Corellia, hit the cantina called Kor Vella. Order a simple Corellian ale and wait there. Someone will approach you, ask if you've seen the race results. You will say you're still waiting for the final lap. They'll take the cylinder from there." she finished. "Any questions before you leave?" I purse my lips and shake my head. I can't think of a single thing I need to ask. She nods and pulls a third device from her cloak pocket. "Good, not in the off chance you did get caught up with the First Order, or Resistance personnel, this cylinder, you click it into place with the other and it'll self destruct. Like a bomb. Use it to escape, to kill, I don't care. But if you don't meet the contact on Corellia, I'll know, and I won't wire you the rest of the money. Understand me kid?"
I nod and she smiles. She stands and fixes her cloak. I stand too and she sticks her hand out, we shake amicably. "They were right, it is a pleasure doing business with you. I'm sure we'll be in contact soon." she walks me to the edge of the ramp and we say short farewells.
I walk around the Hangar towards 7, where my ship is parked. I'll drop off this cylinder thingy and then refuel the ship, and hopefully I'll be back here by 6. In the mean time, there is an awful large portion of Spice practically calling my name.
You see, there are many different kinds of drugs out in the universe. There's Rhyll, I personally don't care for it. It's a reddish spice from the Kessel mines that are refined into something called Rhyll Kor, a highly addictive form of spice that can cause psychosis and hallucinations. They sell really well for the people in the party and club scenes, in fact it was a drug I commonly used when I was a dancer. It help you keep from knowing what's real and isn't real. You don't really want to remember what happens in those rooms after it's all said and done, so if you can't tell between real life and fiction, it can't hurt you. What you can't believe in, can't hurt you. It's practically my motto from when I was a dancer. Most people kind of freaked out whenever I mentioned I did it, it's actually one of the most addictive drugs out of everything I've ever taken.
Then there's Carsunum, a spice with also, hallucinogenic effects. It's really good for those hippie kind of Jedi folk. The ones who aren't just Jedi by trade but by soul and mind. I heard they used it to be able to understand some of the bigger horrors of the world, to see into thing's they couldn't with a normal seeing eye. I never tried it, never cared to try it.
Sansanna of course, a personal favorite of mine actually. It had a various amount of effects depending on how it was consumed. Either by blood or by mouth or by nose, it all reacted in the body differently. I personally prefer a needle than eating it or snorting it, and that's because when it's in its most purest and potent form, it stains. So you can totally tell who's drug addicted and who isn't by the way their nose and mouth look, slightly red or brown. It's kinda nasty.
Andris. A mild stimulant and euphoriant, oh that was the best to take while having sex. In fact, most of my most fondest memories of Kylo Ren were when I was on Andris. It makes an orgasm ten times better I swear by it.
But my personal favorite, Glitterstim. I mean, how cute is that. Glitterstim. It's harvested from the webs of energy spiders native to the dark side of Kessel. The spiders are luminescent, and their webs are mined in pitch-black, inhospitable conditions. Which makes it super rare to find completely naturally sourced Glitterstim (with no added ingredients), and incredibly expensive for the effort that goes into finding and harvesting it. And the cool thing about it, is that you can just breathe it in, right into the respitory system. Easy in, easy out. It's even more potent than anything pure Rhyll Kor can do to you, and even more dangerous side effects, but I try not to think of it like that. I like to think of it as seeing the world in a glitter globe.
The walk into my ship was easy, simple and quick. The first thing I do is not put in the coordinates to Corellia, I don't care about loading up Ren's shipment for easy drop off, instead, I sit on my bunk, and breathe in the sweet smelling glittery gas.
I'm not an addict. I can quit whenever I want to, but why would I ever give up this feeling of pure bliss for a life of complete normalcy?
I inject a secondary dosage of spice right into my veins, it'll take a little longer for it to settle in, but the memories aren't foggy anymore and I need them to be. I need to not think for a moment. The world tilts around me and the plush sheets and blankets of my bed tilts up to meet me. I smile and hum, settling onto my bed haphazardly, legs thrown overboard.
The spice takes me gently, like a warm ocean current pulling me out to sea. I can see myself lounging on a boat. A tiny bikini, a fruity drink with an umbrella. A bright summer sun shining above me, sunglasses to protect my eyes from the suns ray. The quiet lap of water against the edge of my boat. My breathing comes in and out evenly in time with the waves. This is what true peace feels like. There's a bird floating around above me, beside me, everywhere. Honk. Honk. Beep. Honk. Beep. Beep. I sigh at the tropical sounds and roll over on the boat, it rocks in time with my movements making everything shake. I need to tan my back.
Beep.
I lie down on my stomach. And I'm falling. My head knocks against the steel flooring of my ship and I groan, lying limp on my stomach. I don't try to move for a moment, I just try and blink through the pain. Blink. Blink. Beep. Beep.
What is that incessant noise? I finally shift a little. There's a soft golden light infiltrating from the window surrounding my ship. What time is it anyway? Morning? Afternoon? Shit... Ren's drop off is at six. I scramble to feet on shaky legs and splash some cold water on my face from the sink. I don't have time to change out of my clothes from yesterday. I unlock the hatch to the ship and start loading my cargo onto a cart. It takes forever, and it's certainly past six by the time I hefted the crate onto the cart and was able to make it off the loading dock. I do leave behind a crate of Spice for myself. He won't know. Or care. And if he does realize, I'll just pretend I don't know what he's talking about. I'm good at that stuff, talking my way out.
I push the trolley from Bay 7 to 4 with minimal ease, this shit was heavy as fuck. Why is he making me do this again? Alone? I didn't exactly make it any easier on me, the spice in my system was making my head a little foggy but it wasn't anything I couldn't control. My mind is clear for once, or I guess as usual.
The ship sitting in docking Bay 4 had it's ramp down, and Kylo Ren was standing at the bottom of the ramp, arms crossed, his cloak on but the mask isn't. His head lifts as I approach, staring me down, not making any move to help me. My arms were gonna give out if I keep this up any longer. "Don't help me? No. I got it." I huffed, using all my force to push the crate right up to the ramp.
Kylo stands there ominously. Staring me down. "You're high." he says flatly. Not a hello how are you? How did you sleep last night, good morning, thanks for shoving these heavy ass crates all the way down here. Nope, just throwing accusations around in my face. "Me? High? Never." I flash him an innocent smile and lean up against the side of the crates. Kylo's eyes narrow, his jaw tightening as he walks closer. He stops barely a foot away. And he smells good too. Clean, not like a dingy cantina bar like last night. Freshly scented soap, mint toothpaste, cologne or maybe that's just the natural scent of him. It's deep and dark and alluring and I wish it had a name. A little woodsy, like smoke. A fire place.
His graze drops to my arm, more specifically the crook in my arm where all the injection points are. I cross my arms over my chest feeling exposed. I'd rather have him stare dead on at my tits.
"Your pupils are dilated. You're bouncing on your heels and you're smiling at me like you know something I don't." immediately I stop bouncing up and down. Shit I didn't even know I was doing that. "Which means you're either high or you've done something stupid that's about to become my problem."
"Maybe I'm just happy to see you." I offered with a little one shoulder shrug.
"Which is it y/n." Kylo snaps, not really in the mood for any of my bullshit. His gloved hand comes up, fingers brushing against my jaw. It's not a gentle caress or a grab either, his fingers settle into the bone of my jaw, tilting my head up so he can get a better view of me. I feel a snicker bubble up in my chest. "Are you... Are you mad at me?" my giggle cuts through the hangar's sterile quiet, light and uneven. His hand falls away from my jaw but I can still feel the gloved hand like a ghost against my skin. He stares, unreadable, bored, tired, down at me. He exhales through his nose, something between a mix of a sigh and scoff, and turns toward his ship. "I don't get mad, y/n. I get even." he stops at the base of the ramp, glancing back over his shoulder, expecting me to follow. "Bring your shipment inside. Then you and I are going to have a conversation." he turned back around, his stupid cloak billowing around him despite the lack of wind. I swear that thing has it's own physics. I roll my eyes and groan, I grab the handle bar to the trolley and start to push. "There's a button on the front, if you press it, it'll move on it's own accord." his voice rings out making me freeze. How did he know that? For a second, I think it's just the Spice in my veins messing with my head. But then the trolley seems to flicker to life and starts to roll away. I was leaning against it as it slid away making me stumble forward after it no longer held my weight. I watched in amazement as it rolled right up the ramp and into the cargo hold.
"Magic." I whisper in amazement.
"Get inside!" Kylo hollers making me jump. I snap out of my little wonder-bubble and hurry up the ramp, grateful I didn't have to push that stupid heavy thing anymore.
The words slip out before I can stop them, because I can never control myself when I'm around him. "Good boy." I stand up and scramble a few feet away, not paying him any mind after that. That was a punishable offense in his eyes.
I lose myself in the rhythm, swaying and grinding, touching myself, putting on a show for free, because Kylo Ren always gets what he wants when it comes to me. The cantina speakers play a song, heavy bass, low rhythm, easy to move to without looking awkward, like you're second guessing yourself. Perfect for a good show. I turn around and rake my fingers through my hair, pulling it away from my neck. He's always had a soft spot for my neck. Kisses, hickey's, licking me, whispering bittersweet things in my collarbone. My hips drop low, I can't even feel the stares of the other cantina crowd-goers, the only one who matters is Ren, and he's staring at my ass. I'm not even wearing anything sexual, just my bodysuit. It's all black, sleeveless. My blaster and vibroblade are strapped to my waist with a thick belt. I normally wouldn't dance like this, wearing all this baggage, but I think he likes it more because of it.
But I think the last thing Kylo is thinking about is my blaster anyway.
I know how to move, I know how to move well. I learned how to dance here, so I guess in some ways I can say thank you Gloss. When I turn back around, Kylo's jaw is still tight, but not tight with frustration or anger or annoyance, but want and need and desperation. I can't stay away from him any longer. I walk back over and grin at him. I'm in his space. He's breathing me in. Close enough to see his dilated pupils, the way his lips part like he wants a taste, the way his throat bobs when he swallows. "You gonna watch all night or are you gonna touch?" I breathed out, slightly out of breath from the performance of a lifetime I just gave away for free. He doesn't move. Just sits there, eyes raking up and down my body, they stop at my chest and scoff and look away, shaking my head.
I felt a gentle pressure on my hip and the air leaves my lungs. Two months he hasn't been table to touch me. Two months means nothing now that I'm here again. My head snaps down to look at where he's connected us. His touch is eager or cruel, he doesn't squeeze or grope, it just rests there. His thumb swipes gentle circle against my lower stomach, the other four fingers on my back. He doesn't pull me any closer, doesn't push me away any further. He's just there. Steady. His voice drops lower, unmodulated and crueler than he's ever been to me. "You think I'm going to touch you in a place like this?"
A chill runs down my spine. Not soft, not like cold water on a hot summer planet. Not like the first dip in a lake or ocean. But like being woken up by a tidal wave of frigid ocean water. It felt like drowning. Maybe he hadn't meant it like that, but you knew a piece of him would never see you as a woman. Not even as a human. Your entire body freezes, heart stutters for a beat. Your eyes glaze over with a quiet fury. His hand doesn't let go though, and you're not sure if that means he's lying or he's more desperate than you thought.
The cantina is grimy. The walls which you remembered once being tan and brown, warm, were now splattered with grey and black and the faint remnants of red blood. The floor had been cement and glittery now lacked it's original prestige. Not even the people in here could make the cantina look better. Everyone seemed to be dressed in rags and cloth nearly falling off their limbs. This place looked poor. Dirty. Disgusting. It certainly wasn't the kind of place the Supreme Leader belonged. Even the strobe lights were grimy, the glasses you drank from were covered in a thin layer of dirt. You always believed it added to the atmosphere, gave the cantina personality. But in the eyes of Kylo Ren, you looked cheap. Used. Washed up. Foul.
The words hang in the air with the rest of the smoke. You don't pull away from his grip, just stare down at him with a gaze that could curdle blue milk. My chin lifts and a deliciously bitter sounding laugh escapes from between my lips. "Right. I forgot. I'm a cheap, dirty whore. Something you can toss into the trash? Right Ren? What a little slut I am."
His thumb stops moving on my hip.
The cantina is loud as per usual, but for once we're not moving. I don't even think my heart is beating. For once, I wish I knew what he was thinking. But then again, I don't really want to hear his thoughts about the cheap, dirty, slutty little whore I am for him, that I am for half the universe as long as they'd pay for it, I'll sleep with them. I do have standards, it's why Ren's the only one who doesn't have to pay for anything (other than safe passage between planets). Maybe I should make him start paying for it, remind him of who I really am, what he can get for free and he'll throw it all away just because I sell something that belongs to me. it's mine. This body is mine and I decide who comes and goes from it.
A laugh across the bar. A shattered glass. the sound of a blaster.
Kylo's eyes search my face and I don't back down. I never back down from anyone. Something shifts in his eyes but it isn't guilt. Kylo doesn't do guilt, he's not built for it. The wall cracks but doesn't shatter, he'll repair it later anyway. Push me away further until we both snap. His jaw works, maybe he's going to say something. But he doesn't. He keeps his plump lips pressed together tightly. There's been a change in him. Something you can't see, something I can feel. Now I don't believe in the magic shit he does, even though I've seen it in real life. I've watched him choke the life out of a guy just cause he spilled my drink and knocked it out of my hand. I've watched him work that little glowing sword of his like it's another piece of him. But I cannot believe in that side of him. Once I believe it, then I'll know I'm truly Kylo Ren's, and I don't belong to anyone or anywhere.
When he finally speaks, his voice is low still, but stripped of that commanding edge. It's a voice I only hear whenever we're in bed and we've already finished our extracurricular activates. When he's soft and offers me a shirt and the shower and some water or a snack. "I never said that." for a brittle moment, a spark of hope ignites in my chest but dims once he opens that stupid mouth of his again. "You're the one who says it," his hand tightens on my hip making me gasp a little. His eyes are clouded, the metaphorical mask already on. He's hiding from me. "not me." he finishes, voice quiet, almost drowned out by the noise of the cantina.
"Well you never tell me it's not true." my voice wavers as he stands, our chests don't meet but I can feel the heat radiating off his leather. He's so tall I have to tilt my head back to look him in the eye. "Why don't you tell me what you really think of me then, Ren?" I push because I need the answers. I need to know, I can't hid the questioning within myself anymore. It's a need more desperate than the ache between my legs. His hand finally falls away from my hip. He takes a long moment to look, not through me, or just at me, but within me. "You really wanna know what I think of you?" I blink up at him, unable to respond I nod slowly, brain working on over time to combat these stupid feelings he erupts in me like a volcano. "I think you're the most infuriating person I've ever met. I think you talk too much and listen too little." I open my mouth to defend myself but he's quicker, he knew, he always knows. He presses a gloved finger against my lips to keep me from talking. It works. It always works. There's no pressure, just a gentle remind to shut the fuck up for once. "I think you'd sell spice to a Hutt and then turn around and smuggle medicine to a rebel outpost for free, just because you feel like it." his voice is a hushed whisper, but it echoes far beyond anything in the cantina you've heard so far. Every syllable sticks to your skin like a burn, pulsating, aching, bone deep, gnawing. You can't tell if he hates you or wants to bend you over the table and take you right now.
"I think you're reckless and selfish and you've got a death wish the size of a Star Destroyer."
The music seems to shifts to something slower but it doesn't matter. Not when he's looking down at you like you're already underneath him, in his bed. You wonder how long it'll take for you both to get there again.
"And I think about you more than I should. When you're not here, I catch myself looking for you. Reaching out with the force. You think I don't know what you've done? Who you've done? When you are here, I want to choke you and kiss you all in equal measure." you want to reach out and touch him so bad, to feel his skin, or even just his leather against you, anything to numb the pressure in your thighs and the wet behind your eyes you're afraid will leak out. "That's what I really think, y/n." your name on his tongue again feels like the final straw. Your knees buckle and his hand reaches out again. No he doesn't touch you, but there's this humming force, both literal and physical surrounding the two of you. Your bones feel weak yet you're still standing. He doesn't even break sweat, doesn't even blink down at you.
Even though your ego is feeling a little bruised, and you're a little embarrassed, you have to dig your way out of the hole he's made for you. "Cute Ren. I almost believed you for a moment." something else flickers in his eyes, like disbelief. The watch on my wrist chimes with a reminder. "I have to go... Meeting ... My VIP package if you know what I mean... I'll get you your spice at 0600. I promise this time."
"Right." he says flatly. "Your VIP package."
I can tell he doesn't believe me. I can see it in the way his mouth presses into a thin line, the way his hand curls tighter near his thigh and then relaxes. The pressure that was holding me up eases and I stumble back a step. He reaches behind himself and swipes his mask from the table. "0600." he reminds for the millionth time tonight. "I'll be waiting at Hangar 4. Don't make me come find you." the threat is there, wrapped in something else you can't quite name. He settles the mask on over his face again, this time when he speaks it's through the vocoder. "Try not to enjoy yourself too much y/n." he raises his hand and waves to the left, it feels like that same gentle pressure, like wind without the push. Your boots scrape against the cement floor as you slide a few feet to the left, completely out of his way. The breath escapes your lungs. I'm not shocked. It wasn't the first time he's used his little magical abilities against me. But it was the first time that left me feeling empty rather than full.
I turn around and watch as Kylo disappears behind the cantina doors. It opens and closes just for him, his cloak billowing behind him like a ghost as he walks. I'm left there standing like the idiot he thinks I am. I can still feel his leather on my skin. His fingers brushing against my hip and the scent of him I can't forget it. Something has shifted in Kylo Ren he might not say it, but I will. Any other person would've be killed for missing a drop off. He's grown soft.
The air in the cantina is thick with smoke and the low hum of a dozen different languages. It smells like cheap whiskey and perfume. The kind that doesn't linger but sticks to your clothes, even if you hadn't been near the dance stage at all. It gets the guys in trouble when they go home to their wives, if they have one. Most married men would never come to a place like this. It's why I feel so free roaming around it, I don't have to think much. A few of these guys catch my eye, but they're all too lazy or poor or nervous to make the first move. I think that's the problem with the universe today, guys have lost their balls. It makes them unattractive.
I'm sitting in a corner booth tonight. Normally I'd be dancing, after all, this is the place where I got my start. Right up there on that stage, I made my first 1,000 credits. I've come a long way since then. I make 1,000 an hour, sometimes more if I do a bigger drop.
I nurse a half empty glass of Corellian whiskey in front of me. It's the only thing in this place that doesn't taste like utter shit. Even their fun drinks aimed at the girls taste like shit. Corellian whiskey is a little bitter, but has a hell of a lot more flavor than anything else here. This place, a cantina, always swarming with people, it's called Gloss. It sounds fancy but it's not. It's the girls here that are the main attraction. Viper and Violet, twins. One's got the good girl thing going for her (Violet), and the other (Viper) has the Bad Girl thing that she works on stage. They hit two birds with one stone. Boys with praise kinks and the ones that like a little corruption. Honestly their trick bores me. In fact, I've been bored for a long time now.
The Glitterstim in my system seems to be wearing off, that's precisely why I find myself here on an afternoon. I normally wait until 7 to drink whiskey. It's only five on this planet's cycle. Time moves a little differently here. Slower, that's exactly why this side of the planet does so well with cantina's. People can come in here and get lost, not just for hours, but days without even worrying what the outside world has going on. At one point I was more like them.
My ship, the Midnight Runner was docked in Bay 7. It's currently loaded with a more Glitterstim and a bunch of other kinds of spice. It's supposed to be in a First Order fleet right now, but after checking my watch I seem to have missed to allotted meeting time. Oops. This drink was much more important than anything the First Order had to offer me. It's supposed to be transported first thing in the morning, but their schedule doesn't bother me, I get paid well either way.
I just landed not even an hour ago from the Outer Rim, working for the First Order, and now here I am going back into the lion's den. I don't just run spice, I am much more than that. I run medicine to the Resistance, injured people from one hospital to another when it's too full, I harbor fugitives from one planet to the next. I'm not a completely terrible person, I'd like to think I'm average. I don't form on opinion on anything because forming an opinion wastes time, wasting time means less money ear, less money earned means I can't run missions. No missions, no money, time gets wasted, and I die. The cycle spins round and round, I just don't help push the wheel. I like to live my life a little recklessly, gives me something to aim for whenever I see him.
Kylo Ren. The new big bad. The most known Sith in years. Decades even.
The door hisses open and the ambient chatter dips for a second. He's always had that affect on people. Especially in the full get up. The back robes, the black mask, black boots and gloves. I don't know how we got to this point, but I rather enjoy this game of cat and mouse. We have history, a long, harsh, rough history. We've been working together since I turned seventeen and this Cantina no longer wanted me up on that stage. I was 'too old' the owner said, but I still get all my drinks for free. I may have threatened to blow his Cantina up once or twice, plus he's indebted to me. I keep quiet about the underage girls, and he lets me drink for free whenever. I'd say he's a good man but that'd be a lie. He's not a good man, he's a smart man.
The figure in black doesn't look for me, he knows where I am. This isn't the first time we've danced the tango. The path to me seems to clear as he walks to me. He doesn't run, he sets a nice slow pace and walks, really stretching it out for everyone to see where he's going to. People would call this display dramatic, but me? I know it's a claim. Nobody touches the people connected to Kylo Ren. I love a possessive man. Kylo Ren stops at the edge of the table, my feet are kicked up, I'm leaning back against the booths backrest, zero problems, zero fucks given. His mask tilts down to me slowly.
"You're late." his voice modulator grates out.
Show time kids.
A smirk dances across my lips I know he loves. "I'm paid when the works done, not by the hour. I decide when I come." my voice is even, smooth, even a little sweet. He hates the fake good girl shit, he's knows I'm far from a good girl. A low sound comes from the vocoder, something deep and dark a rich. A scoff maybe? Or that little growl he does when I'm calm and he's not. Oh he is so hot. He knows it too, which is the worst part. I make sure to emphasize the little gleam in my eye, he hates when I do that, when I tease him on purpose knowing he can't do anything about it. He'd never put his hands on me in a place like this. Too much attention and that's the last thing he wants to give me. "You decide when you come." he repeats me slowly. Bitter. Ugh, always so bitter with him. I roll my eyes and sit up, pulling my feet from off the table top. I don't think he's here for a chat. "I think we both know I decide when you come."
My entire body freeze, although I will myself to move, I cannot. I turn my cheek slowly, glare up at him viciously there. I can't help the ache in my lower belly that curls with desperation. "Here you are, waiting for me." he slides into the booth across from me without my offering it up to him. No permission, he just takes and takes and takes. The leather creaks under his weight. At one point, I knew what that felt like.
Even seated, he's a looming presence. His shoulders are so broad, thick arm muscles that- a chill runs up and down my spine making my shiver. I wrap my arms around my stomach. "Cold?" he asks, but it's not out of kindness. He's mocking me. I shake my head no. I know he's laughing at me under that fuck ass mask. My chest rises and falls unevenly. The thing's I'd do to be able to kill this man, rid myself of his troubles. Shit, maybe I'd be paid handsomely by the Resistance.
He folds his hands on the table. His fingers twitch. He's restless tonight. Not like I am, Kylo Ren is too good for my drugs. Trust me, I've tried to get him into it, he just doesn't, and I'd like to think I'm pretty convincing. The silver server droid rolls up and Kylo just waves it off, he doesn't even look away from me. He doesn't take the mask off, and I doubt he will any time soon. I always make fun of him for living in that thing. His attention is on my, always on me. The subtle tilt of his head, slightly to his left and down, it's just shy of predatory. "Fourteen hours." he says once the server droid disappears into the crowd, unable to pry into our super secret conversation. The modulator always fucks his voice up. It's gravelly. It lacks depth, yet so deep at the same time. Maybe it's just a Kylo Ren thing. "The shipment was due fourteen hours ago. General Hux is starting to ask questions I don't have answers for." his gloved fingers drum against the tabletop. Shit, he really is restless. "I don't like not having answers y/n." my name rolls off his tongue so smoothly I almost flinched. Almost.
It's been two months since the last time I saw this big bastard. Six weeks in hiding when I had a little spliff with a high power Inner Rim politician. Four days where I was stuck in deep space tinkering on my ship to add in a few more hidden compartments. And the rest of the time I've been selling Spice or running missions for the Resistance. I help when I can. When I'm not entangled with Ren and his First Order fleets. It's actually kinda nice working for both sides, I can pretty much get through any system undetected. I seem to have it all made, don't I?
I lean back against the booth, trying to come off as relaxed, uncaring. But I can't stand the way he speaks through that stupid vocoder. It makes me feel like a brain dead idiot. My knee bounces underneath the table, hidden, but I'm sure he can sense my unease. "And yet, here the fuck I am Ren." I smile sweetly and take a slow sip of my whiskey. The vocoder hisses, I'd suspect a laugh but it's hard to tell. I smack my lips together once, twice. He hates when I do that too, make unnecessary sounds with my mouth. I lick my lips and then tilt my glass towards him, the liquor sliding around in my glass. "The shipments fine. It's sitting in my cargo bay, packed tight, ready to go. But I had a detour. Someone from the Resistance got chatty, wanted to reroute a sample. I told 'em no, obviously, but it took some convincing." I shrugged. "They're not used to being told no by someone with my background."
"Stop doing that." he bites out, mean and bitter, and sexy and demanding. I could really think on it all night. His fists clench on the table top. My lips stay parted minuscule amount. Kylo Ren is holding back? "What this?" I smack my lips together again and laugh at his frustration. His mask tilts again, this time to the right. "You smell like spice. And blaster residue," he said flatly, not light the modulator added any amount of emotion anyway. "and sex." he adds on. I giggled and nodded. "I'm glad someone noticed, I feel like I'm fucking glowing."
Sometimes I do thing's that... Well are illegal. I sell drugs, true. I help the Resistance and the First Order. I'm a middle man, yes. But there are some thing's about this place that I can't quite let go of. I sell my body. Now I know, in such a progressive universe, a woman shouldn't have to, but I like it. I like it even more knowing that I've pissed off Supreme Leader Ren. Finding out he killed his master, and the Supreme Leader was another reason why I stayed away. Sometimes Ren gets a little handsy when thing's go well for him, I couldn't afford to miss out on a week or so of working for him. He doesn't have to pay me to get laid.
"Long night, you know how it is." and it's true, he does know how it is.
There's a long beat of silence passing between us, we just sit and stare at each other. Then his gloved hand reaches up, and with a mechanical hiss, the mask releases it hold over his beautiful face. The mask is off. I tilt my head and grin mischievously. Kylo Ren's face is pale, sharp features, dark hair falling in waves framing his face like a dark halo. His eyes are just as dark and intense as they were the last time we saw each other. But they look tired. His jaw is tight, teeth clenched. Oh he's irritated. And hungry.
"I don't know how it is," he speaks firmly. He has to add in a little more edge now that the scary modulator's gone. "because I spent the night cleaning up your mess with the Resistance contact. The one you didn't tell me about." he sets the mask down, the front facing me. It felt like another pair of eyes watching me, testing me. "You're going to make it up to me." I can hardly hold back a loud laugh at his audacity. "I'm glad you think that Ren." I spit in between stifled giggles. His jaw seems to tighten even more.
And then there it was, a flicker in his eyes. The one I know better than I should. I'm pressing all the right buttons. Annoyance warring with want. The heat sizzles low in my belly, and as much as I enjoy this teasing banter, I really have an appointment later with a VIP client, I need to wrap this up. "You're insufferable." no weight, no heat, just exhaustion. The light seems to dim in his eye for a moment. He pushes up from the booth, the motion sudden and I caught the way his cloak shifted in the disco lighting. He hesitates for a moment, looking down at me. "The shipment needs to be offloaded by this planets morning cycle, 0600. I want a full manifest. No cuts, no side deals, no surprises." his eyes are darker when he looks down at me, his large body is illuminated by the lights behind him. It makes him look like an angel while also looking like I'm sucking the absolute life out of him. Good. That's how I like my men.
"You're coming with me. I want eyes on you the entire time." he pauses and his eyes slide down my entire body. Head to toe, or at least what he can see from his angle. The mask still sits in it's spot near the wall, it really does make a girl feel like she's being watched. It's slow. Deliberate gaze, only for me. Only on me. "After that..." he trails off but he doesn't need to finish his sentence. Hell, he hardly has to talk when I'm around.
I reach up and curl my fingers around his. "Sit down Ren." I ordered. If I was anyone else, he'd kill me on the spot. "There's no reason to run. Have a fucking drink with me." I whine and pout, bratty. He loves it. He hates it. I know exactly what it does to him, even if he'd never admit it out loud. Kylo stops mid step, for a long second he just stands there. His head tilts down to look at our intertwined hands. The cantina noise fades to a dull rhythm around us. Every time we're together, it's like no one else matters. In fact, the universe is obsolete when we're together.
"You can watch me dance." I offer, in case he wasn't fully sold on the whining and the pouting and the begging. "You want me to watch you dance?" you can call it a win because he doesn't pull his hand away. But I've been noticing that in the two years we've been playing this game, the last six months it's gotten harder for him to stop touching me. Most times when we're together, we're not even running missions together, we're just fucking on his big ugly ship. His bed has a permanent indentation of where my body once laid. I pray to whatever Gods there are left that I will kill any other woman he's allowed into that sacred space where he once told me...
You know what. It doesn't matter what he told me. And honestly, neither does my meeting afterward. "Yes. You can watch me dance." I agree finally. Normally I make guys pay a lot to watch me dance, it's not something I offer up for free. If anything, my dancing is much more vulnerable than me naked and legs spread wide open for him to see.
The server droid happened to be near by, and Ren shoots a look at the tiny droid that sends it whirling off in the other direction, toward the bar. "One drink." he agrees too, and slowly sinks himself back down into the booth across from me. Our hands finally separate. His jaw is set, but his eyes are dark as always. Like there's a permanent storm he's watching. A burning building go up in flames. Watching an ocean tear apart a ship. Those deep, bordering on sad eyes scan my face as if he's trying to find the lie, the deceit, the game. "You dance, then we talk about the manifest." but the way his eyes drop to my lips tell me everything I need to know. He doesn't care about the drink, or the manifest, or even my dance. He's already thinking about what he's gonna do to me afterward.
