#adam driver fluff

[l0vergirlsw0rld]

adam designated driver

intoxicated!readerxcaretaker!adam

a/n: adam driver is maybe like the love of my life I hope he reads well. this is also an older fic but maybe 2020-ish?

wc: 2.3k

18+ MDNI | no smut but sexual themes

summary: Y/N went out and had a few too many, when trying to call a taxi driver, she taps her friend adam's contact instead.

"Can I get a whiskey sour?!"You managed to shout over the pulsating bass.

The bartender nodded, turning around to grab the bottles he needed. 

He was in his mid-twenties, sporting a thick beard and jewelry: trendy black stretchers, multiple rings on his fingers, and bead bracelets that swung from his wrists as he shook the shaker vigorously.

You observed his rings up close as slid your fifth drink of the night in front of you.  You shouted a 'thank you' and passed him the money. The chilled glass froze your palm as you grabbed it. You winced hissed.

You were already intoxicated, which resulted in you feeling warmer than usual. You began to drink your cocktail, wincing from the prominent bourbon taste hitting your tongue. 

Turning to the dance floor on your bar stool, you observed your friends dancing provocatively in front of the men.

They would grind on each other and kiss for the sake of attention as if their clothing alone wouldn't draw attention, and it would work every time. Men who were complete strangers would buy you and your friends multiple rounds throughout the night hoping to get lucky.

Tonight, you all wore matching tight-fitted black mini skirts and tops that barely covered your chest. Your outfit in question was uncomfortable, to say the least, but it was like wearing a costume. When you'd dress like that, it was as if you were a new person, for one night. You immediately gained a newfound confidence and your adventurous side would come out to play.

You grinned against your glass, chuckling to yourself.

How you loved being a woman.

You scootch off the seat, stumbling, trying to find your footing. Your sense of balance was terrible when you were drunk and your heels did not help with that at the moment. 

Eventually, you made your way to your friends on the dance floor, joining the small circle to include yourself again.

"Y/N! There you are, I missed you!" Your little blonde friend threw herself on you. You caught her in your arms, laughing. 

The six of you danced to the beat. Hips swaying, arms in the air, hair flying everywhere. You could feel the blood pumping through your veins, and sweat forming on your forehead, but you didn't care you were having so much fun.

our arms were raised in a state of intoxicated freedom as you tried to keep up with your friends, whose energy seemed endless.

Your fingertips tingled as you waved your hands to the rhythm, and your feet grew numb from the constant stomping.

Your head felt heavy on your neck, and your eyelids became harder to keep open. You were running out of breath.

Your movements turned sloppy as your body began to fatigue, even though your mind insisted you had more energy than you actually did. Your chest heaved, struggling to breathe in the tight top.

A couple hours went by and the club slowly began to empty out as people left in small crowds. The night was approaching its end. 

You were seated in a booth with fewer friends, all of you trying to call your drives home.

Your vision was blurry as you fiddled with your phone, trying to hold it properly.

The aggressive blue light blinded you. You squinted, opening your contacts app.

A few scrolls down and you found your usual Taxi Driver's phone number.

You pressed it, bringing your phone close to your ear. The ringing echoed loudly in your ears as you drunkenly awaited a response. He finally answered. 

"Ugh-mkay, uh I'm at thuh Sound Night Club.... on Las Palmas, can you cohme get me? I'm fuckhing drunhk." You slurred into the phone mic.

After a few exchanges, you hung up. "Welp ladies, my taxi issa comin soon so I gotta wait outside." You stood, steadying yourself on the table. You draped your jacket over your shoulders, clinging your wallet and phone to your chest. You gave them each a kiss on the cheek and said your goodbyes. 

Your heels padded on the tacky red carpet as you slowly made your way to the entrance. Before leaving you wished the bouncer a good night. "It's not my birthday, but thank you." He replied. You just smiled, confused. 

You pushed the heavy doors open, only to be greeted with a freezing gust of air. Your exposed legs were now covered in chills. The street lights illuminated your flushed cheeks; how nice. You leaned your back against the club's brick wall and waited for your Taxi. 

A shiny black Camaro pulled up to the curb, flashing its lights and honking its horn. You stayed put, wondering whose ride it was. It then honked again.

You just observed silently. 

The driver's door opened and a tall dark man rose from the car. "Y/N?" He shouted. You jumped slightly. This wasn't your taxi driver: You wondered who the man was, and how he knew your name.

Fucking trouble, that's who.

The unknown man was shouting your name. You looked around to see if anyone else was outside that you could ask for help; not one.

Fuck it, you thought.

You took a run for it, your cheap heels clicking on the cement sidewalks, and you gripped all of your belongings as if your life depended on it, and at that moment it did. 

The streets of Los Angeles were dangerous at this time of night, and you were the desired victim; a drunk, helpless, pretty girl in slutty clothing.

So much for being a woman!

The cold air breezed through your product-filled hair as you ran down an alley, only to be cornered by the car again.

You stopped in your tracks, shocked. Your heart pounded in your ears and your mouth was now dryer than a desert. You couldn't find your voice to yell for help.

The man got out again and started running after you, leaving his door open. The car lights blinded you, you could only see his tall shadow approaching you, quickly.

You once again tried to make a run for it but your heel fell through a manhole cover. You rolled your ankle and fell to your knees, your full weight hitting the solid pavement. You groaned in pain. The man rushed to your sides, as you cried on your hands and knees.

This was the end.

"Y/N! What were you thinking? You could've gotten seriously hurt! You could've gotten hit by a fucking car!!" The familiar voice gritted with rage. You lifted your head trying to identify this strange individual's face, only to reveal the face of your friend, Adam. 

"Adam? Why the fuhhck are yohu trying to kidhnap me for?" You slurred, trying to push away from his grip. "Kidnap? What? -Y/N, you called me from the club asking me to pick you up." He raised an angry eyebrow. 

You just broke down in tears, feeling lost and confused.

"You're too drunk." He grumbled, shaking his head.

"nO, I called, Denis. My usual taxi." You squinted, pulling out your phone to show him. Adam plucked the phone from your grasp and examined the phone.

"Y/N, it says Driver. Driver, Adam." He sighed impatiently.

"Oh, well, i swearr thaht I actually talked to hi-WOah!" Adam had cut you off by picking you up bridal style from the ground.

"Let me down!" You attempted to squirm but your lack of energy or control didn't allow you to do so.

"No, Y/N. You hurt your ankle. Now stop whining and let me take care of you. It's late- It's 4 in the fucking morning and you're acting like a child." He knelt down to grab your jacket that was at his feet and proceeded to place you on the passenger side of his car.

He then resumed his place at the wheel and sped off to his apartment. His car hummed loudly down the silent streets.

During the drive, you were quiet, your scraped knees were pulled to your chest and you faced your window, observing the lights that flashed by as Adam sped through the neighbourhood. 

You began to feel your soberness again because all the adrenaline was gone and the pain was now settling in.

Adam pulled into the parking garage and stopped the car in his usual spot. He turned off his vehicle and picked you up once more, this time with less anger. You toyed with the collar of his shirt as he carried you to his door. He had so many birthmarks on his neck.

Arriving at 11B, he managed to unlock and kick his door open. He used his elbows to switch on the lights and laid you on the grey sofa. 

"Do you need anything? Some pants, another shirt? Socks?" He spoke on top of you, trying to keep you awake.

"This outfit is too tight, Adamhm, can I borrow some long socks and one of your T-shirts?" You breathed out, with your eyes closed. Your head felt heavy against the firm couch pillow, it's like you were sinking in quicksand.

"I'll be right back." He said. 

You peeked an eye open to observe his apartment decor. It was minimalistic, with tones of light greys, topes and whites. Indie artists covered his walls, and colourful woven rugs were sprawled across the floor. He had lots of books on his shelf in the corner, you propped yourself up and dragged your feet to the library dizzily.

Poetry.

 Adam had lots of notorious poets in his collection.

He returned shortly.

"Here you go. Are you sure you don't want some shorts or sweatpants? They have drawstrings, so you can tighten it as much as you want." He placed the clothing on the oak coffee table that you were now making your way to. 

"I'm sure... thank you, Adam." You smiled unzipping your painfully tight top, exposing your red push-up bra. Adam's eyes diverted to the floor, he didn't want to make you uncomfortable.

"If you need anything else, I'll be upstairs in my bedroom. It's the first door on your left." He turned to leave. 

"Wait, Adam!" You let the top fall to your feet.

"Yes?" He turned around, making only eye contact, trying to not observe your figure.

"You have poetry books in your library." You said, sliding your skirt off, leaving you in only your matching lace undergarments. 

Adam controlled his breathing. 

"I do, I do, uh, do you read lots of... poetry?" He asked leaning against his living room door frame.

"I actually used to write some and read them at open mic nights." You smiled, unclipping your bra swiftly, allowing your breasts to bounce out of your bra.

"Much better," You muttered.

"I-I uh, I didn't know that." He bit the inside of his cheek, face remaining unreadable. He crossed his muscular arms over his chest and fixed his posture. You could hear his foot tapping the floor, and you could sense uneasiness in him.

Oh?

Casually, you let the bra fall, like your top, and slid on his grey Star Wars t-shirt that he probably had received from a fan.

Adam was not one to watch let alone buy merchandise from his own projects. The Kylo graphic tee looked cute on you, it ended mid-thigh and wasn't too wide.

"I still write sometimes, but not as much as I'd like to, you know? What about you, do you write?" You sat on the low coffee table, knowing well, that Adam was struggling to keep his composure and slid on his long black socks that went up to your knees. 

"I do, but I don't think that it's good." He chuckled, trying to seem less awkward. You simply smiled at the statement and found your place on the couch. 

"um- you need some water and aspirin, I'll go get that for you." He said and walked out of the room, his heavy footsteps thumped on the creaky wooden floors. 

In one hand he had a big glass of iced water, and in the other, he had two tiny pills. "Thank you," you mumbled tiredly, washing down the medicine with water. "Need anything else?" He asked glancing at the time: 4:52 AM.

"No, I'll be fine, thank you, Adam. For everything. It's really appreciated. Also, I'm sorry for earlier, I thought you were trying to hurt me, it was dumb." You looked down at the glass that you held in your lap, in embarrassment. 

"You are...welcomed." He gave you a small close-mouthed smile before shutting off the lights and going upstairs to his own bed.

You tossed and turned on that shitty sofa. It was small compared to your bed at home and the throw blanket was too thin for your liking, you really wished you would've taken up that offer on the sweatpants. 

"Ugh, fuck it." You groaned, now fully sober and exhausted. 

You quietly got up and proceeded to make your way upstairs to the first bedroom on the left. You turned the doorknob slowly and pushed it even slower to avoid making any noise. You saw that his bedside light was on, and you could make out faint clicking noises. When you fully opened the door, you were happy to be greeted by Adam sitting shirtless in bed, typing on his computer. 

"Hi." You quietly spoke. 

He lifted his chin and met your eyes with his brown ones. "Hi." He gave you a toothy smile. 

"Can't sleep either?" You asked, padding towards his gigantic bed. "No, not really." He chuckled closing his laptop and placing it on his bedside table.

You sat on the foot of his bed, observing his thick chest and shoulders. He was a very attractive man, very large, he looked soft. You bit your lip at the thought.

"Come." He lifted the covers from the unoccupied side of the bed and tapped the mattress like when prompting a dog or cat to come sit next to you.

You obeyed and got under the covers next to him, already feeling his warmth.

You hummed in delight as he turned off the lamp. Adam laid on his side, facing you. You did the same, trying to focus your eyes on his face through the new darkness. 

He let out a tired sigh and without warning, he pulled your whole body forward. Your head was buried in his chest, his bicep supported your neck, and his other arm rubbed your back.

"Sleep, or you'll get sick tomorrow morning. "

You smiled and inhaled the scented body wash he used. You absent-mindedly pressed a kiss to his chest, making him hum lovingly.

A moment of thinking passed and he then tipped your head back, to place a long tender kiss on your lips. You returned the kiss, feeling his plump lips against yours in delight, sending butterflies in your stomach.

After, you returned to his chest and he placed another kiss on your forehead, drifting you slowly to sleep. 

oh adam, i'd die for you

[inklore]

garage rooftop

premise: the lines of friendship or something more grow more blurry the longer your eyes move from each mole, his cheek bones, his dark eyes, his lips. and you really don't understand why the two of you hadn't become something more ages ago.

pairing: ben solo x (f)reader

word count: 1k

contents: college au, fluff like this is nothing but fluff with one sexual innuendo and that's it, friends to lovers, quick mention of han being a lackluster dad sorry it's for the plot.

note: let's ignore that i actually wrote this back in april and just never got around to editing it but now that i'm in my driver era i had to come back to it. the title is from this song that i highly rec listening to while reading <3

The way his face morphs into something that was once joyful and silly—the blissed high that paints your cheeks red from laughing too hard over being overheated from how weightless it feels to be laying on the roof of your apartment building. The space decked out with rugs, blankets, and cushions from past and current tenants, mostly college kids like yourselves. 

Making it the perfect place to get high and look up at the sky at night. The city lights outshine the stars, but the clouds—and the strain of ganja Poe recently snagged from his dealer—give the same ethereal effect. 

“Why haven’t we ever...”

“Ever what, Solo? Dated?” There’s a pause between your words, and a slow, sly smirk moves across your lips as you look over at him. “Fucked?” 

The blush painting his cheeks quickly moves down to his neck as he shakes his head in laughter, biting his lower lip to hide whatever feelings are currently making him look like a shy schoolboy—something he was far from. 

It’s the “both. Why haven’t we done any of it?” That makes you both fall silent. That makes the joyfulness fade and something else fill the air the longer the silence spreads between the two of you. 

And it’s not the weirdest question or the wildest thing that’s come out of either of your mouths. 

It’s a question that makes you wonder, why? Seriously why? With the longer you stare at him, the more you take in the nervous tick of his chiseled jaw. The way his dark hair falls into his face each time he laughs and he has to continuously push it out of his eyes. How the crook of his nose looks oddly kissable and more attractive than you’ve noticed it before when it’s this close to your face. 

When the haze from the weed is making your body feel limitless and swoony. 

It’s a feeling that has you turning on your side. Putting a hand under your head shifts your body closer to Ben’s. Smiling when he doesn’t act phased in mirroring you, his body moving in the same motions and position as yours. Now putting the two of you so close that you can feel his breath hit your face, and the space between your legs barely exists without some part of him touching it. 

The two of you had been friends for forever, it seemed. Stuck in the woes of academia, making your parents proud does that to you. Makes you lose track of time and forget how the two of you became friends after getting into an argument over a Hamlet book in the library. 

A fight Finn quickly broke up, but Poe enthusiastically cheered on. 

The lot of you—Rose and Rey included—became inseparable after that day. Something that didn’t have a timestamp or expiration in your mind. It just happened. 

And now you have four best friends, and you’re coming to the conclusion that you’ve possibly liked one more than that. The lines of friendship or something more growing more and more blurry the longer your eyes moved from each mole, each scar, and each strand of hair. His cheek bones, his dark eyes, his lips. And you really don't understand why the two of you hadn’t become something more ages ago.

“Have you wanted to?” 

“The fact that you’re asking me tells me that you’ve never noticed. I’m not that subtle.” 

“Nose stuck in a book at all times, Ben, not subtle?” You make a sarcastic face, “yeah, who would ever think you’re subtle?” 

His knee nudges your thigh as his cheeks rise in that smile that makes his eyes crinkle at the edges. “You think I’d let Poe or Rey borrow my stuff? Steal my takeout from the fridge—which I know you do—without consequence?”

“In their defense, Poe and Rey have three late library books from two years ago and only you and I like the takeout you get from the bodega on the corner, so…it’s not really a fair asses-”

The squeal that comes from his fingers digging into your sides, pinching the skin at your hip and rib bones, fills the air and knocks the wind out of you all at the same time as you realize the position the two of you have wrestled yourselves in. 

Strands of dark hair moving against your forehead, your fingers instinctively reach up to brush the strands from both of your faces. Ben’s lips so close to yours that all it would take is a heavy breath and you’d be kissing. The relaxing rhythm of your heart now feeling like a hammer in your chest. 

Ben’s fingers run along your jawline, resting at your chin. 

“What if we did?” He asks. Searches your face for any reaction or indication that the subject should be changed. That he should stop asking, and the two of you should move away and pretend like this never happened. Go back to how things were—which was clearly not subtle and most definitely screaming ‘I’m in love with my best friend’. 

“Why have you never asked until now?” You answer with a question. 

“Losing my best friend is not the traumatic life experience I’d like to put on my resume beside divorced parents and an absent father.” He jokes, his smile playful, as the pad of his thumb draws small circles against the skin of your jaw. 

“No wonder you’re unemployed.” The two of you laugh, breaths mingling in the joys of this moment. Of the jokes that come easy and the touches that seem to come even easier. But then there's silence, and you’re leaning closer to him, a feathering touch of your lips against his as you murmur, “maybe you should stop being so afraid, Ben Solo. And have me.” 

And if you’ve ever felt like there was something missing—some cataclysmic event in your life that could rewire your nervous system and make you feel like you’ve been barely making it, your heart barely beating and keeping you alive: Ben’s mouth is the puzzle piece as he brings your mouths together in a bruising kiss. 

[calummss]

PREY | FLIP ZIMMERMAN

masterlist

summary: never trust a charming man. his charm might turn into your worst nightmare when the man seems too good to be true

pairing: fem! reader x flip zimmerman

words: 2.1k

a/n: this is the weirdest idea i’ve ever had, do not ask how i came up with it…i wrote this for english lit so if there a name or description to the my oc i changed to ‘y/n’ please ignore since i didnt proof read!!

TW! kidnapping, implied cannibalism

"I can hear you, sweetheart," taunting words fell between the rapid rustling and crunching of the autumn leaves, creaking branches, and the smell of wet weeds and newly bloomed wild flowers.

A thin layer of sweat covered the nape of your neck; your hairs stuck to the side of your face as you twisted and turned to see what direction was the way out of the forest maze—quickly and safely. Every second you pondered, you wasted time. Every wrong turn you took, you wasted energy. Every second, you were hopelessly running away from safety.

You felt a surge of adrenaline as the cold air bit into your lungs. You forced your legs to push harder off the muddy ground and slippery roots, anticipating the relief of finding someone who could help. A sudden ringing noise penetrated your ear; a waft of air shot past you. Your heart sank into what seemed like a bottomless pit in your stomach when you saw a shotgun shell embedded in tree bark. A meaningless piece of brass and plastic, the colour of gasoline fuel, but its shape solid; red like blood.

Your screaming burst through your lungs; it was the only weapon you had. Your breath was sharp and frantic, your eyes wide filled with tears. Fear washed over you as you thought of the possibility of your life being cut short just because you had trusted a man who turned out to be the kind of charming until he got what he needed.

"You broke my trust, Y/n." His voice sang through the thick air. "You know, my favourite game as a boy used to be hide-and-seek. Always played with my brother, friends, family,” A short but taunting silence made your heart race. "They always complained because I played unfairly and cheated," he said, to the sound of his gun clocking. "I disagree."

The soft ground blurred below you. You continued running for what seemed like longer than it should have, figuring it was because of the psychopath on your tail. The only things that could hinder you from survival were your physical limits and your doubt. But your exhaustion also came running after you, and your cramping legs gave in, falling into the pile of wet leaves. Your body shook as you pressed your back against the tree trunk, trying to regain some sort of power to keep on running, but it was no use.

His frame edged closer and closer, his black shoulder-length hair blowing in the low wind. His dark gaze fixed on you as his twisted smile sent shivers down your spine.

Your mind went frantic with the thought, ‘weak.’

He looked at you, jaw clenched, inches away from you. Nostrils picked up the scent of his cologne as your lips started to tremble, knowing you had failed to outrun him. What would he do now that you had tried to run away? You didn’t know.

"You look beautiful when you're scared," he crouches down, cocking his head. "But the fun is over now and I get really angry when people try to outsmart me. Will you try to outsmart me again?"

"Please!" Your voice cracks. "Please, you don’t have to do this!" You cry out, hot tears streaming down your cheeks.

"But I do," his voice now soft like it had been before he opened up the door to his cabin. "I have to do this."

Your crying intensified; your chest grew tight as bile rose in your throat. Blood pounded in your ears. Your hands shook. Your feet tingled. Your vision was disfigured, as if you were looking through a fish tank. There was nothing else you could do but give up. His strong arms scooped you off the ground and started carrying you away.

Your heart pounded even harder when you could see a street poking from behind the branches, realising you had given up before the finish line. Darkness was torn from your face, and a matrix of lights blinded you. Groaning, you shifted, attempting to jerk away from the brightness beyond your lids. Your hand hits your face, the drowsiness making you feel like a marionette. But even though your limbs feel heavy, like they had piled on imaginary weight, you tried to pull herself together. Pushing your torso off the ground, you noticed you were back in the living room you had been in moments before you took off running. Your eyes scanned for restraints—none.

But there he was. Tall, broad, muscular, wearing...black? A black blazer buttoned over something white, dark trousers, black shoes, all melting together into one until you blink a few times.

He must have noticed your surprise.

"Don’t worry," he took a swig of beer. "This manor is human proof. Both escaping," he huffed out, placing his hands on his thighs before talking towards the kitchen counter, "I mean like escape proof, soundproof, everything proof." He laughed.

"Why are you doing this?"

You spoke, your heart pounding and your voice cracking. "What the fuck is happening?"

He cackled, like he had one too many drinks, and laughed at a terribly awful joke. "Something very unfortunate for you."

"Let me go. Please. I swear I—I won’t tell anyone."

Silence.

“What happened, Flip?" Your gaze dropped to his frame, his chest rising and falling with each breath he took. His hands engulfed the beer bottle he held. "What did I do wrong?"

"You did nothing wrong, Y/n." Monotone. Dry.

"Then please tell me why you are doing this to me." You couldn’t stop your chin from trembling or your heart from wanting to explode out of your chest. "You treated me so well. We slept together. And now. What is this?"

Flip scrambled out of his seat.

Your eyes darted across the room—the drawing room at the cabin, nothing but miles of land and sheep. It stood close to the sea, just off the coast of the Atlantic Ocean, which at this time of year had the strongest and toughest currents.

Flip placed the beer on one of the coffee tables and braced his weight on the gold-encrusted sofa that stood perfectly opposite you.

"I mean don’t get me wrong, dear, the sex was incredible and probably some of the best I ever had but it was part of my scheme."

"What scheme? To lure me to the woods?” You wanted to shout, but every bit of effort you made to speak or move was tripled against the weight of you building fear.

"Look, it’s nothing personal, Y/n," he said, lifting the corner of his lips. "You took my bait and now it's on you. It’s not my fault when you’re so gullible when it comes to love. I mean seriously, falling in love within three dates?"

"Is Flip even your real name?"

"Yes. My full name is Philip Zummerman."

"You give your victims your government name?"

"Well, it’s not like any of them will ever tell the police," he chuckled, his white teeth shining between his black moustache and beard. "You asked me before why I am doing this. I have an answer to that but I don’t think you’ll enjoy it as much."

"What is the answer?"

"I am handsome, well proportioned and insanely wealthy. Those two components work rather marvellously together. I either charm my way out of any trouble or I’ll just pay off what I need to. Humans are leeches by nature, you know," he took another sip of his beer. "Humans crave luxuries and comfort, and what else?"

"I don’t know."

“Yes, you do. C’mon!" He slouched down with the biggest grin he had yet given.

“Ehm,” pause, “Money?"

“Ding Ding Ding…money. How much money do you think it will take to buy an ordinary man’s silence? Say less than a thousand dollars? Maybe even two if he’s desperate enough."

You had no idea how to behave. You felt like you were compelled to listen to him.

Flip stood back up again, beer in his hand, his back facing her as he paced around on the dark ebony floors, the squeaking penetrating your ears.

“And how much do you think you will need to persuade that same man, so dull and simple, to take a life?" His feet stopped moving.

A deafening silence.

What?

"Those dirty old men rummaging around the dirty cities of Colorado would do it for 5.000? Maybe 10. But in their eyes, you are worthless. Not worthy of anything except the price tag above your head that has compelled them to blindly follow any orders given to them. Just like dogs. I think there’s a psychology behind it but then again I am no psychologist,"

“What are you going to do with me?" You asked once more, collecting every ounce of calmness you had left, forcing yourself to make contact with him.

He sighed in response. Like he was... bored, annoyed, rushed? Perhaps all three?

"I’m going to kill and eat you."

His gaze went through you like a blast of ice, his sick smile making your stomach churn. Your muscles stiffened, paralyzed by fear. You could hear the slow, dragging beat of your heart. Fear became a tangible living force that crept over you like some hungry beast, immobilising you and your brain, holding you captive. Every muscle in your body screamed at you to try and escape again, but you remained frozen.

"What…" Bile started to rise again.

"I will kill you, and I will eat you." The clicking of his tongue enunciating his pointed finger on you. "A simple concept really."

Panic started to settle in again. Fear creeping from behind, the hair on the nape of your neck stood up.

"No, no, no, no, no, no, no." Nothing but high-pitched whimpers. Shallow breaths made it impossible to think clearly.

Your mind was scattered. How to escape? What had happened? Was your hand numb? Why did it feel like little pinpricks?

"This isn’t happening."

"It’s happening." His dark, monotone voice penetrated past your thoughts.

"It’s not happening. It’s not happening. This is all a bad dream."

You never had a heart attack but if someone had told you this is what it felt like, you wouldn’t doubt them. Your breathing was laboured, and your palms felt wet. You couldn’t think of anything but that your chest might get crushed any minute. "Oh, Lord," you started, "save me just this once."

You were trying to breathe, but you couldn’t. Someone was clutching your throat, stopping you from taking full breaths. But there was no one stopping you. Tears started trickling down your cheeks as panic crept over you again. This time, panic was unavoidable. It felt like forever. You sat there and panicked. He kept trying to say something, but nothing but mumbles made it past your ear. What he tried to tell you was inaudible.

‘Y/N!’

So suddenly his shouting erupted, bringing your mind back to reality as you stared blankly at him. You could feel a tear sitting at your lower lash line.

“There you are," Flip’s voice was half way between a whisper and a shout, deep and rumbling like the earthquake below you but still full of the danger you felt whenever you noticed his eyes on you. "Y/n."

“You’re a cannibal?" You choked back the fear and guilt you felt in your heart, speaking to yourself .

“Don’t insult your own intelligence," he tuts. "I do have a tendency to strongly dislike people who belittle themselves for the sole reason of incompetence or lack of confidence."

“And you just eat people?"

"I have refined tastes," he answers, his expression emotionless, but you could see the coiled tension in his body, the rage ready to spill forth. "You have complimented me on my cooking just earlier this evening. I remember the way your eyes fluttered, enjoying the thigh fillet. I would say your tastes are the same as mine. Why don’t we get you relaxed, dear? Hm? I have a room just for you and we’ll talk about this once you are back to normal."

"Normal. Normal."

You could feel his arms underneath you as he brought you to his chest. Feet dangling in the air as he made his way towards a wooden door that led down a spiral staircase, a red carpet greeting you as he walked past another long hallway until he came to a halt in front of the second-to-last door.

"You know, my dear, normally in these types of situations there would be some revulsion at the revelation that you’ve consumed a person. I see nothing of that in your demeanour. You don’t seem to care about the fact that others have suffered to land on my plate, yet you only seem to panic after you found out that you would meet their same fate... Tell me why? Do you think you are more important?"

[vintagevict0ria]

𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞

“You brush past me in the hallway…”

chapter 1

pairing: Adam Driver x f!reader

content: n/a

a/n: omg i am soooooo excited for this you have no idea. Its been so long since i posted and this idea has been stuck in my drafts since july and since im back in my Adam driver era- id thought id finish this. This is mostly inspired by Taylor Swifts song "I can see you" and each chapter will be based on a lyric! So i am no expert on how film/actor/movie stuff works so bear with me. Hopeful as this goes on, it will get better. Im planning on finishing this by the new year (who knows if that will happen) but since im on break i should take advantage of my free time. Ok long story short I will be writing this shit non stop since im on a writing high so who knows if the next chapter will come out tommorow! Hope you enjoy! Notes are greatly appreciated!!

Y/n, a famous actress known for her beautiful face and captivating personality but also her incredible acting skills. You had been nominated for over 50 awards and won 5 oscars. It had been a while since you were on a set nor a movie. The last film was a roaring success and the critics were crazy about it! The media begged for another film starring Y/N Y/L/N.

The first thing you heard when you woke up was the sound of your phone ringing. Your agent- Carolina, was calling. You quickly answered- yawning and hoping she wouldn’t hear it. “Y/n! Great news!” You sighed, not really understanding what was happening. “You got the job!” The job? what is she talking about? “huh?” You rubbed your eyes, laying back down. “The movie!! Adam Driver is in it too! Oh my gosh i can hear them now! ‘Y/n y/l/n and Adam Driver are co-stars in the biggest hit of the year!” Once you heard his name, you sprung up “Wait what?” “Yeah! They want you here in LA by tomorrow morning. I’ve already booked you a flight to leave in..5 hours! Bye!” She hung up before you could say another word. You glanced over at the clock- 9:35. The flight was at 2:15 and it would take a while to pack and get ready. So, being the smart woman you are, you got up and started the day. Showering, packing, and of course- stopping to get starbucks.

Once you arrived in LA, you headed to the condo where you would be staying for a majority of filming. That morning you woke up and started getting ready for the day. Showering, and making a coffee before you headed out to the table read. You threw on a pair of leggings and a tshirt. It was late autumn so you took a jacket on the way out. At the studio you said hello to the crew and a huge thank you to the casting director. “Y/n!” It was Carolina- she ran up to you and embraced you in a tight hug. “How was the flight?” You smiled at the redhead girl “Great.” Carolina jumped up and down with excitement and handed you sheets of paper. On the cover was the name of the film, the name of the director-JJ Abrams- and your name. “Heres your script. You need to go ahead and head in there! Bye!” She walked away, the sound of her heals clicked across the floor. You quickly skimmed through the pages while walking and not paying attention. You soon enough ran into someone, your coffee spilling over you and the floor along with your script- which was on the floor…covered in coffee. “Oh gosh Im so sorry!” You apologized while picking up your script, wincing at the wet paper. “You might want to watch where you are going next time.” The voice was soft but stern. You looked up and realized it was Adam Driver.

He was wearing all black and his hair was messy. He glanced at you with a subtle stare. “Im so sorry!” You stood up, brushing yourself off. “No worries, happens to the best of us.” He rolled his shoulders back and popped his neck, closing his eyes. Damn he was attractive. ”You headed in?” You asked, trying to keep your composure together. Adam simply just nodded.

The first day of the read consisted of going over the aspects of the film and the time line of production. After the read through, filming would start, then the movie premiere would take place after filming and production in Hollywood, but that was a whiles away. When the read was over you walked out with another co star. Heading to your condo, you received a text from Carolina. "Girl, just talked to JJ and he just gave me word that there is a sex scene between you and Adam 😁" The stupid emoji at the end made you cringe. Carolina giving you this news shot your nerves through the roof. As if you weren't already nervous enough about working with Adam, having to film a intimate scene made it far worse. Kicking your shoes off and falling onto your bed, you opened instagram, an attempt to get your mind of the situation at hand, it didn't work.

[mrs-gucci]

The Prank

{ flip zimmerman x female reader }

anon

Flip being an idiot and scaring you to get in the spooky mood! Or vice versa! Please and thank you

I kind of took this in a little bit of a different direction, it's not super duper spooky per se, but I love the idea I came up with and I hope you love it too!

warnings. FLUFF, very light sexual stuff, scaring/pranking, flip getting all grumpy, lingerie wearing, a kiss n' make up situation.

word count: 1.2k

★ written for sextember 2023 ★

Flip, being a seasoned police detective, is a very hard man to scare. You're always trying to jumpscare him, but it never works, and it frustrates the hell out of you because he's constantly jumpscaring you. You just wanna get him really good one time, really scare him, and you've finally come up with the perfect plan to do it.

When you told Ron your idea, he was immediately eager to help you out, agreeing to do whatever needed to scare the living daylights out of Flip.

So when Flip calls and tells you he's on his way home, you quickly get your lingerie on and do your hair and makeup all nice. You really need to have Flip completely focused on you and get his guard down so Ron can do his thing.

You're buzzing with excitement as you head downstairs in your pretty set, one of his favorites, and make a quick call to Ron to confirm the plan. Then, you settle on the couch and put yourself on display as best you can while you wait for Flip to come home.

"Princess? I'm home!" he calls through the house as he normally does, pulling off his boots and putting out his cigarette in the ashtray by the door. "Baby, where--"

He turns the corner and finds you on the couch, all laid out in one of his favorite lingerie sets. He hums, pausing and leaning against the archway of the living room.

"What's all this for?"

"What, can't a lady dress up for her handsome, hardworking man every once and a while? Keep things spicy?"

Flip chuckles and walks over to you. "Hey, I never said I was complaining. Just didn't know if we were supposed to be celebrating anything, maybe one of those bullshit holidays we always use as an excuse to have sex, like fuckin' national laugh day or whatever."

"Oh my god," you chuckle. "We should really stop doing that, we really don't need any more excuses to have sex."

"Mm, you have a point," Flip hums, smiling as he pulls you to your feet and kisses you deeply. "But you have to admit, we've had some, mm, pretty great holiday celebrations."

You smile against his lips, nodding. "Yeah, we have."

Meanwhile, outside, Ron pulls into the driveway with his headlights off and takes it slow, not wanting to alert his partner to his arrival. He grabs his cuffs and sneaks around to one of the living room windows, staying low as he taps the metal cuff against the window.

Flip's head turns immediately in the direction of the sound, eyebrows furrowed.

"Did you hear that?"

You look up at him, pretending to be confused.

"Hear what, baby?"

"There was a tapping noise."

"I didn't hear it," you say, turning his head back to you and kissing him again. "It was probably just the icebox again, you know how it makes those weird sounds sometimes."

Flip's instincts were telling him there's something going on, but he chooses to ignore them in favor of kissing you some more. He hums, hands on your hips, squeezing them firmly.

"You look so beautiful, princess," he says against your lips, pushing you gently back down onto the couch. "I--"

Ron scratches along the window with his nails and Flip's head whips over again, walking towards the window.

"What the fuck is going on?" he says, looking through the window. "I swear to god someone's outside tapping the window. You're not hearing it?"

"No, baby, I have no idea what you're talking about. I didn't hear anything."

He huffs, then walks back over to you and lays down on top of you, kissing you again as he presses himself against you.

Ron grins and moves to the other window, then knocks quickly, squatting down in the darkness to hide in case Flip looks out the window.

"Alright now, this is getting fucking ridiculous. Either I'm crazy or you're going deaf, because that was very noticeable."

Flip huffs, making a move to get off you and walk over to the window. You hold his shirt and keep him on you, kissing his neck.

"Baby, don't get up again. It's okay, it's probably one of the neighborhood cats. I need you, Flip, please stay here..."

His jaw clenches, but he starts kissing you again. You left the back screen open for Ron so he can enter quietly, and you subtly keep a lookout for him as Flip starts to nibble at your neck.

Ron comes around the corner and you hum, smiling softly and winking at him. He grins, standing in silence for a moment before making his presence known by using his deep, serious shouting voice.

"ZIMMERMAN!"

Flip startles and tries to turn around but falls off the couch with a soft grunt. You burst into laughter and Ron joins in as Flip processes what just happened.

"What the fuck?!"

"Oh my god, that was amazing," you breathe, laughing hysterically. "We got you so good."

You give Ron a high five as Flip stands back up with a huff, crossing his arms.

"You guys fucking suck," he says bitterly. "Why would you do that?"

"Revenge, of course. You're always scaring me but I can never scare you. So I wanted to get you back for all those times."

“Well this was so much worse than anything I’ve ever done to you,” he says. “We were about to…that was just mean.”

You can tell that he’s actually getting upset over this, and you quickly wrap up the conversation with Ron. He can sense it too and heads out after a few more minutes, leaving you and Flip alone.

He walks over and grabs a beer from the fridge, opens it up, then takes a long sip. You sigh, getting up from the couch and walking to him, wrapping your arms around him from behind as he lights a cigarette.

“Baby, it was a little prank. Just for a little fun.”

“It wasn’t fun for me. I actually thought something was going on outside and I was getting worried. And the fact that you got all dressed up just to scare me…it was just shitty.”

You step around and give him a kiss on the cheek, then another, and another.

“Flip, baby, I’m sorry,” you say, pouting. “Please forgive me.”

He huffs. “I’m not happy with you right now.”

Your lips continue to press kisses all over his face, jaw and neck.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…” you say with each peck. “I’m really sorry, baby.”

As much as he’s upset, your kisses and apologies are definitely chipping away at his hardened defenses.

His hand slips onto the small of your back but he still doesn’t look at you, hoping you’ll keep going but understand that he’s really not that upset without him having to say it.

You definitely understand it, and you smile slightly, but continue to kiss him until you finally press a kiss to his lips.

“Please forgive me?”

He looks at you, then, and smiles ever so slightly as he holds you close.

“You’re not gonna quit, are you?”

You shake your head with a smile, kissing him some more. "Nope, not until you forgive me."

"Alright, alright," Flip sighs, running his hand down to give your ass a firm squeeze. He smiles, then kisses you. "You're lucky I love you so damn much."

****

sextember taglist: @rynwritesstuff @safarigirlsp @babbushka @mrs-zimmerman

if you'd like to be tagged in future sextember works, please let me know via comment on this post or the original sextember post!

[mandomaterial]

Waking up at night with Adam Driver

Imagine waking up in the middle of the night, entangled with Adam soundly sleeping next to you, his breathing is calm and slow. Looking at him like this makes everything else disappear, like this he was just your lover, your ever so caring lover. Like this he was gentle, almost like a child, his thick black curly hair was tangled, spread over his cheek and nose, moving every time he breathed. You cracked a smile, unable to stop the warm feeling spreading in your chest. You carefully cupped his cheek, slowly tucking the fly-away hairs behind his ear, Adam shifted a little, pulling you closer at the same time, a little giggle left your lips as you looked at him with the most lovesick eyes anyone could imagine, you loved him so much it hurt. You shuffled even closer, your faces now only inches apart, your gaze flew from one freckle to another, over his eyebrows and lashes, down his tall nose, finally landing on his full lips. You couldn’t help but think of kissing him, his lips were so soft, so kissable, so before you could doubt yourself you leaned in, pressing your lips onto his, just a sweet, soft kiss. You didn’t stop at one though, you started peppering kisses all over his face, over every freckle and birthmark, Adam started mumbling and murmuring, tightening his grip around your waist and chest, pulling you down again, it seems that even when he’s sleeping he cant stand not being close to you, not that you minded. You gave in to his unconscious wishes, resting your head on his biceps and snuggling into his toned chest, with a smile on your face. Soon enough you drifted off to dream land again, feeling as happy and fulfilled as can be.

[cowboygenesis]

1: charity case | kylo ren x reader

part 1 of the "bump it, cool it" series: masterlist. | playlist

pairing: [modern!au] kylo ren x reader chapter warnings: none. word count: 1.6k series summary: when your roommate’s older brother needs a place to crash, you begrudgingly offer up your couch— only to realize he’s the most insufferable, entitled asshole you’ve ever met. the worst part? you can’t seem to stop thinking about him. notes: welcome to the new series! i need to preface by saying that rey and kylo are related in this fic-- it just happened to work for the plotline i concocted! starting off short with under 2k words, but the chapters will get longer with time. as always, please enjoy!

Now Playing: Days Incomplete - Fine

“He’s staying here?” you utter over the rim of your mug, unbelieving at your roommate’s sudden admission.

She stands in the kitchen, eyes glazed with sleep as she gingerly grips a matching cup of steaming coffee. When her lips turn into a coy smile, your patience—already frayed at this ungodly time of day— threatens to snap. “Just for a few weeks.”

The digits hovering over your laptop quiver with frustration, stilling mid-air as your jaw clenches. You glance over the thin screen, trying to decipher if she’s joking. Alas, her eyes meet yours with a certain sternness that you return half-heartedly.

“A few weeks,” you echo, tone snappy despite the drowsiness in your throat. You take a short sip of your coffee, watching her with furrowed brows. “What is he, Rey, a charity case?”

“Come on,” she sighs, pushing her butt away from the countertop to approach you. You gaze up at her with a quirked brow, watching the soft, morning light seep onto her face as she pulls up a chair beside you. “It’s not just anyone we’d be doing this for. He’s my brother.”

You meet her gaze lazily, the heated ceramic doing little to ease the tension brewing between your ears. Rey’s lips press into a thin line, eyes wet and pleading as she brings a hand to your palm. The gesture is self-explanatory— a silent call for your approval that usually, you heed. But this, you’re not so sure about.

You’ve been occupying the apartment since freshman year of your bachelor’s, and in all that time, the option of guests felt like labor. Sure, you could host a dinner party or two without breaking a sweat, but having people over for a few consecutive nights proved a hassle on multiple occasions— this included any partners you’d try to house, to the dismay of your landlord and each other.

“Rey, we barely have enough space for two people in this apartment,” you sigh, gently shrugging off her hand to close your laptop. You move it to the side, along with the small notebook you were jotting in. “Where’s he going to sleep? Or keep his stuff?”

“The couch is big enough,” she shrugs, nodding to the living room.

You follow her gaze, the corners of your lips twitching as you take in the worn-out cushions of your second-hand couch. The patchwork blanket you had gotten from your grandmother one birthday lies against the armrest, clamped down by a few textbooks.

“For a child, maybe. Or a housecat,” You exhale sharply, setting your coffee down with a clink. “He’s a grown man, Rey. A man.”

“It’s only temporary,” she sighs, eyeing the couch briefly as if measuring the fit. You chew the inside of your cheek in thought.

You don’t remember much about Rey’s brother. As a matter of fact, you must have missed his name entirely in the few times she had mentioned him over the years. Some part of you felt like their relationship might have been strenuous because of that, but you never felt the need to inquire.

“We’ll make it work,” she declares quickly, leaning in on her elbows as if noticing your apprehension. “He won’t get in the way, I promise you— let’s just give him a chance to recalibrate, okay?”

“Rey,” you speak, softer this time as your eyes meet hers with mirth. “Are you sure we’re his only option?”

You feel mean for making this more difficult than it should be, but you know your concerns are valid. The space is small, your lease is up in less than six months, and your thesis won’t appreciate the chaos that’ll inevitably come with a third body wandering around.

“We’re his best option right now,” she intertwines her fingers and looks down. “Things are complicated back home right now. I’m sorry.”

You frown, searching Rey’s face for any sign of trepidation. She looks weary but otherwise earnest, and you can feel your reluctance softening despite your better judgment.

Rey’s been a good friend and even greater roommate in the time you’ve known her. The dishes were always done once you got home, and she rarely made much noise in her bedroom, even when she had partners over. You, of course, graced her with the same respect.

“Just a few weeks, right?” you sigh, voice gentler now as you meet her gaze.

She nods, her smile muted but ascending with the leniency of your response. “At most.”

You glance at the couch again, lips pressed into a thin line. You can already picture it: early mornings before work or classes punctuated by awkward, weary-eyed encounters in the kitchen; and then the late nights spent tiptoeing past the swaddled body of a grown-ass man taking up your living room— just so you can grab a glass of water from the sink. The thought makes you wince, but as you glimpse at Rey’s pleading eyes, you make the heartbreaking choice.

“Okay,” you sigh, though the word feels heavy on your tongue. “But—”

“But?” she echoes, her bright smile faltering slightly as you lift a finger.

“—He contributes. Dinner, groceries, the whole thing,” you say firmly, ticking points off on your fingers as Rey watches with a lazy smile. If your temple was to be desecrated, you’d at least set some ground rules before it happened. “And, we establish a strict shower schedule.”

“You know he wo—”

“It’s non-negotiable!” you counter with a soft chuckle, and Rey matches it immediately.

“Okay, okay! Done!” She reaches across the table, squeezing your hand again with a warm laugh. Despite the anxiety creeping into your stomach, squeeze her back. “Thank you. Seriously… I owe you one.”

“Oh, you already owe me two,” you mutter as Rey pushes her chair back. She moves to the kitchen, placing her empty mug in the metal sink before raising an eyebrow at you. “Three, if you count the time I had to spend an entire weekend entertaining your charity case of a girlfriend.”

“So is everyone a charity case to you now?” she teases with a tilt of her head, making you scoff dramatically.

“Just these two.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Rey laughs softly as she rolls her eyes, brushing past you to grab her leather bag from the windowsill. “Kylo keeps to himself, at least. You won’t even notice he’s here.”

Kylo?

“Kylo?” you repeat, feeling the name on your tongue.

“Kylo Ren,” she explains, sliding her feet into a pair of untied, white sneakers. You hear a slight sneer in her voice but decide to put the conversation on ice, for when she returns. “I must’ve mentioned his name before.”

You bite your lip, racking your brain for the memory that yet again comes up barren. You recall Rey telling you her home life was strained growing up, brought up in unlikely circumstances as an adoptive daughter of two righteous people with a tangible strain between them. You caught their names that one time, but never heard her utter them again after the fact.

“Beats me,” you reply quietly, reaching for your pen and notebook again. You open it to an empty page and press the metal nib to paper, jotting down a bullet point.

“He’s a programmer,” she elaborates plainly, eyeing a stray banana on the counter before deciding to snag it. You watch the fruit disappear into her bag as she checks for the rest of her belongings. “Dropped out of a doctorate program recently.”

“You’re kidding,” you quip, a sardonic smirk painting your features as you turn your body to face her. “So, does he ever leave the house, or…”

“Funny,” Rey retorts, rolling her eyes. “He’s not socially inept, just…” she reaches for her set of keys from the counter, balling them between her fingers as she looks for a proper word. “Particular.”

Particular. You’ve dealt with enough eccentrism in your life to know the true meaning of that word. If Rey saw her brother as particular, you struggled to imagine how he presented himself to a stranger like you.

“Particular how?”

“Smart, quiet,” she admits, her voice softening as she continues. “A little intense, I guess.”

“Woah,” you quip, drawing another bullet point for your developing house rules. “Is that a threat?”

“Not in a bad way.” She waves off your concern, heading for the door. “You’ll see, though.”

“I’m sure,” you mutter through a long exhale, leaning an elbow against the table as you watch Rey depart. “Anything else I should know?”

She gives you a look, but the bright smile on her face suggests she’s pleased to be past the argument stage of your deal. “He’s been through a lot lately. His last job was brutal, our parents have been hard on him, and then his…”

Your pen stills against the lined page as you hear Rey falter. Her lip catches between her teeth as she grabs her jacket from the hanger, looking into nothingness as if considering how much she wants to reveal.

“Guess I’ll find out soon enough,” you mercifully punctuate the conversation and she looks at you with a grateful smile that you return.

“You won’t be disappointed,” she nods, pushing the door open and stepping outside. When she speaks again, her voice echoes throughout the broad hallway beyond. “I promise!”

Before you get the chance to reply, the door slams shut. You hear the tapping of her shoes as she descends the staircase and once again, you’re left in silence— a silence you now know to appreciate before it’s gone for the foreseeable future.

You pick up your coffee again, gaze still fixed on the couch as you take a languid sip.

“Don’t make me regret this, Kylo.”

[kylosjuul]

Kylo Ren NSFW Alphabet (reupload)

a/n: i posted this last year and here it is again! if ur expecting kylo to be a dom don’t read this. Also, this is AFAB!reader.

——

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Kylo has never had anybody to cherish like this, to hold. So you best believe after sex, he’s planting soft kisses across your face and lips trying to show how lucky he feels to have you; that you gave this gift of intimacy to him. It’s all soft touches and cuddles (fight me on this). He looks at you with a sense of longing, to have this feeling forever. He’ll hold your hand over his heart while you fall asleep on his chest, for it only beats for you.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Everything about your body has Kylo red in the face, but he finds his eyes trailing to your thighs and your ass often. Your uniform clings to them tightly, and he feels guilty about how quick his blood pools to his thighs, constantly readjusting his leather pants when you bend down or “accidentally” brush against him.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Okay, listen. Kylo has never had any sexual experience so you BEST believe he cums a lot. And hard. Borderline hyperspermia. He’s just so sensitive and you just feel too good wrapped around him. Expect rope after rope of thick cum coating your walls, spilling out of you and down your thighs :D

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

You make him hard. A lot. He feels so perverted, especially in the beginnings of your relationship. The soft floral notes of your perfume made his pants constrict, the sweet smell making him dizzy. Every kiss, every brush of your fingers=boner. He was embarrassed. The worst part is the wet dreams. Oh. The dreams. Kylo’s mind would drift to images of you kissing him, sitting on top of him, the warmth between your legs remedying the pressure building in his hips; but he would wake up every time, hard as a rock, spilling into his sleep pants panting your name. Yeah.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

Absolute virg. Never even kissed a girl before. The first time you climbed on top of him and started trailing kisses down his neck, he was 100% whipped, almost finishing in his uniform as you rocked against his length. He knew he couldn’t give this up, couldn’t give YOU up.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

A bit simple, but this man lovesss missionary. He gets off when your face twists up in pleasure, knowing he’s the one providing it to you. Plus, he can hear each moan, each sharp intake of breath; Between your face drenched in lust, your sweet sounds, and your tits bouncing with each thrust, this position makes him cum the hardest. (Besides you on top. He’ll dig his fingers into your hips watching himself disappear inside you over and over. yum).

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

I’d say Kylo is serious during the deed. He just loves you so much and wants to worship you with every bit of intimacy he has in him. Large calloused palms smoothing back your hair, plush lips sucking on your collarbone, all of it.

“You’re so beautiful. My sweet girl…”

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He isn’t the hairiest man in the galaxy, but he does have a bit of hair down south. Nothing too extreme though. Kylo is very hygienic and well groomed, nothing to worry about here!

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

THE MOST INTIMATE. You can see in his eyes how he feels he doesn’t deserve you, doesn’t deserve your soft body beneath him. He treats you as if you’ll break, as if you’re the most precious being in the universe. Constantly asking if you’re okay, or, “Does this feel good?” He loves to serve you. To pleasure you.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

As aforementioned, Kylo can’t help how hard he is around you 24/7. If he knows he’s going to see you, he’ll tuck himself away into his refresher and think of your figure, your eyes looking up at him, (that REALLY makes him cum fast) and stroke his cock with a punishing pace, imagining you slamming down on his hips. He feels a tinge of shame as he grits his teeth and releases his load onto the refresher door.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Praise. He feels his thighs go weak when you drag your fingers through his hair and call him a “good boy.” He’ll look up at you through heavy lids, a silent plea for more soft touches and appraisals. Also, eye contact. If you ever want anything from him, just look up at his through your eyelashes and he’ll blush like a madman, giving you whatever it is you crave.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He’s a very private person and extremely jealous, so he prefers to fuck you in your shared quarters. Nowhere else. Okay, maybe in his TIE, but that’s only when you beg him so sweetly; and who is he not to give his girl whatever she wants?

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Yes. Just yes. A kiss that lingers a second too long, his name on your lips (in any context), your soft hand following the curve of his jaw. He’s a goner. If you want to torture the man, wear a low cut top around him, he’ll be desperately grabbing at your hips in no time.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything involving someone else. He’s a jealous, jealous man. All these fics about him sharing you with the KOR….girl. A big no no is anything related to degradation. Attention all Kylo writers! He would never even DREAM of calling you names or hurting you in any way. You’re his precious girl and he just loves you so so much:(

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Virgin, remember? The first time you sucked his cock, he’s was a panting mess, brows furrowed, low moans punched from his chest, finishing in your mouth in under a minute. After a few times together, you guided him on how to eat pussy, and he definitely prefers watching your hips rock up into his face, coming undone from his warm tongue. (Kylo will never admit this, but while he was eating you out he rocked against the mattress like a rabid dog, cumming all over his stomach, a pool of his spend spreading over the sheets. Yeah, he prefers giving).

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

It depends on how much time you’ve spent apart. If he hasn’t seen you for a week, (missions, supreme leader shit) he’ll fuck into you with a strong and punishing pace, still careful not to hurt you, though. If it’s a normal day, he’ll slowly rock into you, dragging his cock along your walls in a sensual way, but you usually beg him to speed up, pushing you further and further up the mattress.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Kylo is a simp. He will take whatever you so kindly gift him with. You get to fuck your man whenever you so please. He gives it to you no matter the time. Day or night. He’s just so excited there’s a GIRL who wants him, his cock, this badly.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Nah. Not really. He’d rather savor the sex, instead of constantly looking over his shoulder. But if you drag him into a storage closet aboard and start massaging him through his leather, who is he to say no?

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Hate to burst any bubbles here, but he’s completely inexperienced, so don’t expect him to last very long, at least not at first. He physically has to tense his muscles, eyes squeezed shut in concentration, trying so hard NOT to blow his load the second your tight wet heat engulfs his cock. His skin is flaming hot, but he’s shivering above you, groans emanating from his slacked jaw, trying to fight the way his balls draw up, the way his stomach muscles tighten already.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Are sex toys canon in Star Wars? Someone please lmk. But my answer is going to be no for now!

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Kylo doesn’t have to tease you, like, at all. You just want him so bad all the time and he still doesn’t understand why. However. You’re quite the tease, and this poor virgin can’t take it. Seriously, if you want to see the mighty Kylo Ren crumble, all you need to do is press a chaste kiss to his lips, put a hand on his thigh, look at him, or just breathe basically, and he’ll be hard and wanting in seconds. I love our space boyfriend.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Ben Swolo can make some NOISE lemme tell ya. It’s all low groans and grunts, so caught up in the heat of your body and how fucking tight you are around him. No matter how hard he tries to contain the noises that slip from his throat, he can’t help it. He’ll confidently moan and moan in your ear, minted breath hitting your cheek, letting you know his pleasure is solely from you, and you alone.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Kylo is what we call a service top. He would do anything to put your pleasure first, his own pleasure depends on that. He had never cum harder than that first time you clamped around his cock, finally feeling your orgasm around him. Lights flickered and whirred; it was…intense.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

Hung like a moose omg who said that? Anyways. My guess is 7-8 inches. Good luck girl.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Siri play ‘Everyday’ by Ariana Grande please. Seriously. He feels fucking insane with how bad he wants to be buried in you at all times. Whether he’s tired, beaten or bruised, you could catch a dick anytime.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Kylo will eventually fall asleep cuddled up next to you, but not until he allots himself a few minutes to admire your beauty, running his thick fingers through your hair, kissing your temple until he sees you eyes flutter shut. Awe. Whatta softie.

[rynwritesstuff]

The Cabin - Flip Zimmerman x Reader

Flip Zimmerman x Reader

Warnings: NSFW (PIV sex, dirty talk), bickering, general creepy vibes, potential for supernatural weirdness

Word Count: 2.6k

Summary: Flip takes you up to the Zimmerman family cabin on a cold, wintery night.

Flip Zimmerman is no stranger to the harsh winds that come with heading up into the Colorado mountains. The air itself feels icy, almost sharp against any and all bare skin. His scruff is frosty, and in this moment, he really fucking wishes he had brought more than his usual fleece-lined jean jacket, but he wasn’t expecting to spend much time outdoors. 

His trusty red truck, though, was beginning to feel strange and abnormal to drive, and sure enough, when Flip had pulled over to investigate, he found a popped tire. Embarrassingly, he’d gone into a curse-filled rant about how fucking stupid this trip is and how this isn’t how the goddamn weekend was supposed to be and, of course, how badly he hates the motherfucker who decided to leave something sharp in the road. It was all bullshit.

And you, because you loved him – and also because you were several hours away from home already – tried to calm him down, to no avail. He didn’t want to hear it, so you stopped and got back into the car like he wanted. 

The sun has begun to set, and as frustrated as you feel, you must admit that you love the view of the mountains against the pink and orange sky. The snow falling creates a dusty effect on the entire view, and you’ve got half a mind to pull out your camera and take a few pictures, but you’re sure Flip wouldn’t appreciate the sentiment. 

You shove your hands beneath your thighs, hoping that doing this will generate some heat for them. The car is getting colder now that it’s turned off. You hum softly, looking to your right at the wooded treeline. The trees are tall and white with snow. They’re thick, too. You wonder how anyone or anything could comfortably move through such a congested forest. 

“Got it!” comes Flip’s voice. You smile as he stands up. 

“Good job, babe!” you say, opening the truck door. You are immediately hit with a frozen gust of wind, and you inhale sharply. “Goddamn.”

“Get back in the–”

“I’m gonna help you put this away so you can warm up,” you tell him over the wind. “Go start the car.”

Flip nods, in no mood to say ‘no’ to the idea of getting into the warm car, and walks around to his side. He gets up into the driver seat and turns the key, making the engine hum to life. The heat immediately starts up. 

Movement. 

Flip glances over to the right. You’re back by the bed of the truck, he notes, and his brows furrow. The trees seem to rustle as something scurries back into the wilderness. Flip gets out of the truck. 

“Here,” he says, keeping his eye on the treeline as he opens your door for you. “I’ll get the rest.”

“You sure?” you ask. Flip nods, and he seems insistent, so you oblige. He quickly finishes loading everything back into the truck bed before getting back into the truck. He locks the doors, which you find odd but not terribly concerning, and he buckles his seatbelt as the hot air blows. 

“Look at me?” you say. Flip turns to you, one hand on the wheel as he prepares to continue up the mountain. You smile at his red face, then cup his cheeks with your warm hands. You give him a quick kiss. 

“This is fine,” you tell him. He nods. “This doesn’t ruin anything.” He nods again. “And I kinda like seein’ you work on the truck, it’s hot.”

Flip cracks a smile at this, then gives you another kiss. 

“I’ll show you ‘hot’ once we get up to the cabin,” he says. You chuckle. 

“I’m gonna hold you to that, Detective.”

Flip hums and presses on the gas. The truck surges forward up the snowy mountain road. 

The famous Zimmerman cabin is a place you’ve been hearing about since you and Flip began to date. He’s mentioned it countless times, telling you about all of his summers and winters spent there with his family. So much sledding, so much fishing, so much love was experienced there. You’d always sort of wondered if he was talking out of his ass about the whole thing; the two of you have been together for almost six months, now, you figured that any time was a good time, but not Flip. No, he’s too much of a perfectionist. He takes pride in doing things right, so he waited until you really, really needed a break from work to propose a weekend getaway up in the mountains at the Zimmerman family cabin, just the two of you. 

When his truck starts up the path, you immediately notice just how wooded it is – it’s almost the same as the forest you’d seen earlier, down by where Flip was changing the tire. 

“Did you and your cousins used to play out here?” you ask as gravel and snow crunch beneath the truck’s tires. Flip smiles. 

“All the time,” he says. “Hide n’ seek was our favorite.”

“This seems like a good place for hide n’ seek.”

“It was,” he nods. “It would be a group of six or seven of us out here at night–”

“At night? Here, in the woods?”

“Fuck yeah, it was terrifying!” Flip laughs. “We loved it. The worst was being found last.”

“How’s that?”

“You just know there’s a pack out there lookin’ for you. All you could hear was your own breathing and the little fuckin’ bugs, and you’d hear their footsteps getting closer, and closer, and sometimes they’d sneak up on you just to scare the shit outta you . . .” Flip chuckles. “I loved it.”

You shudder. 

“I think I’d be too freaked out.”

“Well, luckily we don’t have to play,” Flip says as he pulls up to the cabin. You look up, brows raised as you take in the sight. It’s bigger than you thought, with beautiful woodwork and a vintage feel. You smile. 

“Oh, wow,” you say, looking out the window as Flip parks the truck and turns it off. “It’s so pretty.”

“It’s even better inside. C’mon, help me so we don’t have to take two trips.”

The two of you get out of the truck. You try to ignore the strange feeling you have in your gut. You can’t quite place the feeling, but you know you’d like to get inside. After all, the sun has almost completely set, and visibility is low due to the thick trees. 

You take your bags and Flip takes his. Snow cracks underfoot as you trudge up to the front door. Flip unlocks it, and you step inside. You smile brightly as Flip comes in behind you. You listen to him re-lock the door as you look over the cabin’s interior. 

The sitting area and kitchen flow together, clearly meaning to make the entire first floor feel social and open. The hardwood floors are beautiful and solid. A large rug sits in the center of couches and chairs facing one another. An old TV sits on a television stand at the front of the room. A hallway is visible, leading to, presumably, a bathroom. Closer to the kitchen is another hallway, which leads to a dining room. 

You turn to the left, running your hand along the railing of the stairs as Flip walks around turning on lights. You start upstairs. The steps creak as you go. The second floor of the cabin is loft-style: The entire first floor is visible if you simply peer over the rail wrapping along the large landing. You count three bedrooms and a second bathroom upstairs before Flip comes up behind you with his own bags. 

“Master bedroom’s down here,” he says, stepping in front of you and turning on more lights. You follow him down the hall and into the bedroom. It’s large and spacious, with a nice, big window overlooking the side yard of the cabin. 

“There’s a firepit out back, but it’s too cold to use, I think,” Flip says. “Unless you really fuckin’ want a fire.”

You smile, setting your bags down and walking towards him. 

“What I really want is you, Detective Zimmerman,” you say, wrapping your arms around the back of his neck. Flip drops his bags and puts his hands on your hips. You smile up at him with a twinkle in your eye that he could recognize anywhere. 

“You’re all worked up already?” Flip asks, smiling softly. You sway teasingly, your hips moving from side to side as flip continues to hold them.  “I can’t help it. You just look so fucking good . . .”

Flip’s hands slide down lower to grip your ass, and your smile widens. He kisses you, then, and your mouth works against his desperately. Your hands slide up along his cheeks as he tugs you closer. The heat of his body draws you in and makes you hunger for him. His erection is present and obvious, and you let one of your hands slide down to hold him. 

“You’re worked up, too,” you breathe as he runs his teeth along your jaw and pushes your jacket off your shoulders. Your arms fall back so that the jacket can hit the ground, then you touch him again. Flip’s breath catches. 

“‘Cause you’re kissin’ me like that,” Flip says. His large hands give your ass a squeeze, and you press yourself against him solidly. You push off his jacket and it falls down beside his bags. 

Flip’s hands travel up your body, and he pulls at your shirt. You know exactly what he wants, and you have half a mind to tease him, but you want it, too. You let him pull your shirt up over your head, and he throws it into the pile of bags and clothes already on the floor. 

“Mmm, very forward today, Detective . . .”

You step back towards the bed, then sit down on it. You take a moment to remove your boots while Flip does the same, and once his boots are off, he’s on you, his hands pressing against your breasts firmly. He fits his body between your legs, leaning back only to remove your pants and underwear for you. You grind up against his belt buckle, shuddering at the coldness of it while Flip squeezes your thigh and kisses along your jaw. 

“Take your fuckin’ pants off,” you breathe, a hand in his hair as he kisses your skin. He chuckles quietly, but leans back anyway. His hands go to his belt, and he undoes it. Watching Flip undress always makes you feel lucky, and you suspect it always will. Outside, the wind blows and howls and whistles. You feel cozy and warm inside, especially now that Flip is naked from the waist down. You run your hands along his skin as he gets on top of you again. 

Your legs spread for him, and this serves as an invitation for him to make himself comfortable. He brings a hand to his erection, gives it a few strokes, then presses his tip against your entrance. You hum, smiling up at him. 

“C’mon, don’t tease me,” you say, tugging on his hair. 

“Why not? It’s so much fun.”

You hit his chest playfully. 

“You’re a sadist,” you tell him, lifting your hips. “Get on with it, Detective. I haven’t got all–”

He thrusts in, cutting you off. You gasp as he begins to rock his hips steadily. Your core clenches around him, and Flip grunts. Your breasts bounce, the bed creaks. You close your eyes and think of all the poor fuckin’ people who’ll never get to have this. This . . . Damn, this is as close to bliss as you’ll ever be. Your head falls back, your eyes roll. You feel Flip’s hands on your wrists, pinning you down as he fucks you into the squeaky mattress. 

“O-Oh shit,” you breathe. Flip grunts and sighs above you, his hair falling into his face. He looks so handsome like this. “I love you.”

Flip kisses you, then nips at your bottom lip. 

“I love you, too, babe,” Flip says. “Mm. S-So fuckin’ wet . . .”

You laugh softly, shakily. 

“How romantic,” you sigh. “Ohhh, fuck, Flip . . .”

His thrusts are getting fast and sloppy and hard, and you clench your hands into fists where he holds you down. You lift your hips again, and when his cock hits you at a new angle, a better angle, you groan. It only encourages him. He loves knowing that he’s making his girl feel good. He loves knowing when you're enjoying yourself. 

You lean up and kiss him again. Tree branches brush against the cabin angrily, hitting the windows and the wooden exterior, but you pay it no mind. A moan escapes you. 

“Fuck,” you breathe. “Fuck–”

Pop!

Darkness. 

You startle. Flip’s hips halt suddenly, and the only sound that is audible is the sound of breathing. You can’t even see Flip, who is mere inches in front of you. You cling to him in the dark, holding his hands. 

“Flip?”

“I know.”

“Was it the wind?”

“Maybe, maybe not. I’ll have to check the fuse box.”

“Where’s that?” 

“Out back.”

You weren’t scared when you arrived, not really anyway, but it’s totally dark outside now, and the idea of accompanying Flip out into the yard sends a chill over your nude body. Still, you know you should offer. You feel him pull out with a grunt, and the weight on the bed shifts as he gets off. You reach into the dark, but it's no use. You can’t see a damn thing. You let out a shaky breath as you listen to Flip rummaging through something – the bedside drawer, perhaps? – and before you know it, a dim light fills the bedroom. He’s found a flashlight.

“Toss me my stuff,” you tell him, pointing to your clothes on the ground. He does so, and you begin to get dressed as he sets the flashlight down and begins to do the same. 

“You can stay here while I go outside,” Flip says. “I should be right back and we can finish this.”

“You don’t want me to come with?” you ask. The wind is persistent and harsh outside, and for a moment, you foolishly wonder if the windows are going to shatter from the force of it. Flip shakes his head. 

“No, no. It’s bad out there.”

“Is there another flashlight?” you ask. Flip nods, then points to the other bedside table. 

“Should be one in there.”

You crawl across the bed to open the drawer, and sure enough, there’s an old flashlight inside. You turn it on. It’s a bit brighter than Flip’s. You pull on your shirt, then your underwear, then wrap the blanket around yourself. When you look up again, Flip is fully dressed.

“Hurry back,” you say. Flip nods, then gives you a quick kiss as he pulls on his jacket.

“I will.”

He leaves. You listen to his footsteps recede until you can no longer hear them, and then you wait. The cabin is completely silent, almost eerily so. You look over at the window. Outside, you can see the snow and the faint shadow of the trees shaking from the wind. You pull the blanket tighter. 

You hear it, then. A loud thud, a thud so loud that you swear you feel the walls shake. And then–

A yell. 

You startle. 

“Flip?!” you call into the darkness, holding your flashlight. No response comes, and you stand up quickly. 

“Flip?” you call again, louder this time. Once again, no response. Your heart sinks, and a dreadful feeling washes over you. 

What happened to him?

Tagging some besties: @mrs-gucci @safarigirlsp @babbushka

Dividers by saradika-graphics

rynwritesstuff, 2025

[jfksbrainmatter]

how’s mama? ;)

adam driver x reader

genre : fluff 🧸

summary : you are laying in bed, heavily pregnant and sleeping. your husband, adam driver, wakes you after he came home from work and accidentally reminds you of your pregnancy and impending due date. freaking you out.

author note : this based on a really cute tiktok i saw bc i couldn’t stop thinking about it 😓

content warning : pregnancy, talk of birth, anxiety, age gap (reader is like mid 20’s-early 30’s and adam is late 40’s) and reader cries (for like a sec bc hormones)

warm, kind hands stroking your arm wake you up. your eyes flutter open as you shift in bed, smiling as you notice adam kissing your forehead. “mmmmm..hi baby~” you mewl, shifting to turn toward him, leaning up to kiss him.

“hi sweetheart..” adam leans down and meets you halfway in the kiss, stroking back your hair. “how’s mama doin’ ..?” you furrow your brows and tilt your head, confused til you look down. your lips quiver as you remember the impending child in your belly. eyes filling with tears, you look back up at adam, seeing his small frown.

“what’s wrong lovey..?” he asks with concern. everything, you wanna say. but you don’t. you sniffle and blink back the tears, “m’having a baby…” you whimper. adam smiles in amusement at your shaky voice.

“yeah you are hun..” he strokes your cheek to calm you down. you shake your head and whine, cupping your bump as you remember all the weight and life inside you. your grogginess is gone. replaced with anxiety and…fear..?

you don’t know but what you do know is that you’re crying freely now. adam lies next to you and cradles your bump with you, kissing your cheek and holding your head to his chest.

“shhhh..babygirl calm down, you’re gonna be okay…you’re alright, just breathe..” adam coos, calming you down. he’s very good at calming you down most times but the tears won’t stop flowing. damn hormones. you pull back and whine, wiping your eyes and rubbing them tiredly.

“a-adam i- i can’t give birth i can’t…what if i go into labor without you here? what if- what if i go into labor early?? i- im scared adam.” you whimper, sniffling and hiding into him. suddenly you stop, breathing slowly as you feel your baby stir, getting more settled. adam kisses you softly to stop your rambling, wiping your tears away softly.

“you will be ready my love. i will be there and- and you are so prepared honeybun...you have the nursery ready, all the baby clothes and the books and toys~” he smiles and laughs softly, rubbing your bump. he slides further down the bed to wrap his arms around your waist, listening and feeling for kicks from the baby. “i’m ready. i feel like you are too, almost.” he smiles and kisses your bump as the baby kicks against his lips, his laughs rumbling through the room.

you crack a smile at his happy laugh, stroking a hand through his hair as the baby kicks against their daddy’s hand. “i think they missed you.” you wipe your tears and sigh, calming down into your husband’s embrace.

he smiles giddily and lays his head against the bump, closing his eyes in content happiness. he loves his tiny family. “do you think it’ll be a boy or a girl..?” he asks, excited about a baby either way.

“mmmm i don’t care..as long as they’re healthy.” you whisper in response, kissing adam’s hair. he sighs and sinks into you, exhaustion finally sinking into him from his long work day.

“what do you want for dinner tonight baby..?” he asks, having taken over the responsibility of dinner. he’s staring at your large bump as he speaks, almost like he’s talking to the little human in you.

“mmmm…i think they want your ‘world famous’ burgers~ and fries…and a chocolate milkshake from that one place-!!” you speak excitedly, the craving coming on quickly from the baby in your uterus (who needs to pay rent by now).

“then that’s what mama’s gonna get.” he smiles and stands, walking to the kitchen to make his delicious food for his very, very pregnant wife.

[l0vergirlsw0rld]

Chris Evans & Sebastian Stan

delivered

summary: Y/N has been secretly dating both Sebastian and Chris, successfully keeping each relationship under wraps—until now. One day, both men decide to surprise her at the café where she works, showing up at the same time. As they realize what’s going on, awkward tension fills the air, forcing Y/N to confront the truth. With emotions running high, she must navigate the fallout and decide whether her web of secrets will unravel everything.

Adam Driver

adam designated driver

Logan Howlett

ravish

ravish part 2

ravish part 3

changes

taste of home

my little voyeur

first christmas at the cabin

[inklore]

adam sackler loves to just lay his head in ur lap (possibly burying is face in ur tummy) while u starch his head and just talk to him. hell hun now n then in response but he just loves to hear ur voice and loves it when u ramble and you’re just the best part of his day.

no because that man has the best head of hair to run your fingers through and you know it's one of his love languages ok!!

His head is on your midsection, his palms either at your hips, running along the side of your body, or it's rested below his chin, the other arm angled underneath him in a way that has him completely flat against you. As close as he can be. 

His eyes closed as your fingers run through the strands of his hair, the lull of your voice calming his mind. Making his shit day, all the background noise that has been going on in his head, drown out by the softness of your tone, by the echo of your laugh through your stomach. 

By the scrape of your nails on his scalp, by the mindless stories you tell him about your day. It eases him into something pliant, soft, and calm. He’s not used to this complete calm you give him. That he feels when you’re soothing him like this.

And when you ask him a question, he barely hears it until your fingers stop and he can no longer hear the baritone of your voice from within your diaphragm. Only then does he open his eyes and look up at you. 

His eyes droopy, the slow smile that spreads across his mouth lazy and sappier than anything you’d ever comment on because then he’d swallow it down. Make it fade into some joke or torment of his fingers at your skin, your laugh covering up the fact that he’s completely lost in you. 

But you can see it when he looks up at you. When he rests his chin against your stomach and dismisses your question with one of his own. To keep you talking about you. To keep him lost. To keep feeling that calm. To hold onto the feeling for as long as you’ll let him.

[vintagevict0ria]

𝙸 𝚌𝚊𝚗 𝚜𝚎𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞

Chapter 3 "But what would you do if I went to touch you now?"

pairing: Adam Driver x f!reader content: Alcohol consumption, fingering, handjob, close proximity trope, smut, MDNI!! a/n: omg- all time my favorite chapter ive written so far. I've also planned to have around 6-7 chapters!! Its been so fun to write this and sometimes I can never stop. When i said this would come out on saturday- I was fully convinced I would have it done by friday and have it out this morning. BUT last night I was at a party and didn't get back till midnight. So this morning i cranked out this chapter on dunkin coffee and a donut. ALSO first sex chapter??!!! IDK if its too soon but who cares! we love a good close proximity trope!!!! I am so excited for yall to read this!! The love and support for this series has been amazing and Im so grateful!! LOVE YOU ALL!! xoxo

“It was mine.”

The wine glass, suddenly and slowly, was taken away and set back down on the table. Your heart was jumping out of your chest but Adam could be far from affected. His eyes were locked in on the menu in front of him. “What do you think you're going to get?” He glanced up at you. You were captivated by him. His eyes. His nose. His smile. It was all beautiful. You wondered if he thought about you as much as you did him. The call of your name shook you out of your trance. “Huh? Oh yeah um- I was thinking of the Ribeye with a lobster tail aaand a side salad.” You placed your menu back down and grabbed your glass. Adam nodded, looking back down at the menu. 

“Are we ready to order?” The waiter walked back over and Adam gestured for you to go ahead. After a while of Adam going back and forth on what to get, he finally ordered. 

It didn't take long for the food to arrive, but you had already drank half a bottle of wine and had no appetite. In order to push away your feelings for the man in front of you, you stupidly assumed alcohol was the answer. “Yeah an’ then he kiss her!” Your mind was a blur. Words slurring together as you spoke. Adam had eaten his food and ordered for yours to be taken to-go. Laughing, you poured yourself another glass but Adam grabbed the bottle of Screaming Eagle Cabernet before you could finish. “Heyyyyyy!” Your attempt to fight back was useless as he pulled back and placed it out of your reach. “Here, let's get you some water, okay?” Adam raises his eyebrow at the passing waiter- he knew instantly when he looked quickly at you- taking a heavy sip of what you did pour into your glass- and then at Adam who had the expression of ’help.’ all over him. This is the last thing you remember- that was until your vision was black.

———————————————

You weren't sure what time it was. Your head pounded and your world was spinning around you. Slowly, you sat up. You squeezed your eyes shut before rubbing them open with the palms of your hands. Setting your hands beside you, you realized something- you aren't in your bed. Or your room. At this realization, you jumped off the bed and stood in the middle of the room. You looked around the dark, monochromatic, room around you. You listened closely to see if you could hear anything that gave you clues to where you were. Then you heard the faint sound of water running in the room adjacent to you. But for some reason, something still felt off. You went to adjust your dress when you realized that you weren't wearing the red dress you had put on. At this point, panic set in. Not only were you in a random ass room, but your kidnapper had taken off your dress and replaced it with an oversize ‘budweiser’ t-shirt. Then the sound of water stopped. Glancing around the room, you tried to find somewhere to hide but it was too late. The bathroom door swong open. A dark mysterious figure stood there, a white towel around its waist. You weren't sure if it was the hangover, but you couldn't make out the face of your abductor. The figure then turned on the light, revealing themselves. It was Adam. You immediately found comfort in knowing you indeed had not been kidnapped. His towel was loosely tied around his hips, his full chest and abs on full display. “Good morning.” Adam spoke as he grabbed a smaller towel to dry his dark locks. “Good morning.” You were now back on the bed. You laid down and hit the bed with a groan. “So, how bad was I?” Adam let out a chuckle, turning to you.

“Honestly?”

“Honestly.”

“Well, you had about a bottle and a half of wine, passed out at the restaurant. Carried you to the cab and back here. I wasn't really sure what to do so I put you on the couch. Then you threw up all over your dress, and I gave you a spare shirt I had.” You couldn't help but laugh. As you sat up, you continued to laugh but the uncomfortableness sat in and the laughing turned to tears- you were sobbing-. At Adam's realization, he ran over to you, squatting down. “Hey hey hey, it's okay! What's wrong?” You were on the edge of his bed, head in your hands. Adam, who was in front of you, placed a hand on your knee and said your name. “God, I'm so sorry! This is so embarrassing! It was just supposed to be a nice dinner but I had to be stupid and now I'm here! In your bed! In your clothes! God what is wrong with me!” Adam- who mind you, was shirtless, and with wet hair, had this look of deep concern on his face. “There's nothing to be embarrassed about.” He laughed, running his hand through his hair. “Here, let's get you in the shower and I’ll get Carolina to pick you up. Sounds good?” Wiping the remainder of your tears, you nodded. Adam smiled. Taking your hand and guiding you go to the bathroom. His bathroom was modern but mostly dark. Black and white tiles plastered the shower walls.Once you had gotten out of the shower, you put  Adam's shirt back on. It smelled like Sauvage by Dior. Adams' scent was surrounding you and it was intoxicating. Adam walked you to the door but grabbed your wrist before you walked out and spun you around to face him. You both held eye contact for at least 5 seconds before clashing into each other with a kiss. It was a slight peck but it drove this euphoric feeling to your core. When Adam pulled back, his face was flushed and quietly whispered “God i'm so sorry i just-” You shushed him “No it's okay, I’ll see you tomorrow Driver.” A few minutes later, Carolina came to pick you up. Entering the car you gave her a stern look “No questions. Nothing. Do you hear me?” She laughed, “Okay okay” Before the car drove off you realized you had left your wallet and keys in Adam's room.

You jumped out of the car and ran inside. “Hey sorry! I left my wal-” You didn't get to finish your sentence because Adam's mouth was on yours. Then his hands grabbed ahold of your waist, bringing you closer to him. Your hands followed but went up to his beautiful hair. His mouth was intoxicating and this feeling was new to you. “Fuck im so sorry Ive just been wanting to do that for a while.” You shut him up by kissing him. “Shut up Driver” Adam moaned into your mouth, the grip on your waist tightened as he pushed you into the living room and laid you on the couch. A million thoughts were running through your mind- was this really happening? You were on Adam Driver's couch and he was on top of you???!?!?!??! But there was no time for thinking- His hands were already in your pants- well your underwear because the only thing you had on was his shirt. “Wait wait wait” Adam pulled back- face flushed red. “Are you sure you want to do this Adam?” He paused before replying, “I mean we have to practice for the scene in the movie, don't we?” His words were echoing in your head and all you could do was nod your head. When he started to kiss you again, his rough and large fingers started to linger over your sex. When two of his fingers entered your shopping hole, your back arched against the couch. “oh my-'' you let out a moan of his name as he began to curl and pulse his fingers against the spongy spot that made your vision go blurry. Your free hand that wasn't tangled in his hair- traveled down his chest and down to his sweats where he was rock solid. The second your hand started to brush against him, his body contracted and shivered under your touch. The mix of a moan and a whisper of your name left his mouth. His fingers were speeding up and you weren't sure how much longer he would last. Your hand, finally in his pants, started stroking him and matched the pace of his fingers inside you. “Shit- Adam im-” He was now going faster than before, attending to get you to reach you high as soon as possible. His thumb began to rub slow and hard circles on your clit and you were gone. Your hips matched bucked against him and loud moans and whines left your voice. “C’mon, you can do it. Cum for me.” His soft spoken words took you over the edge. The living room reverberated the sounds of both you and Adams moans as you both reached your climax.

Now panting, you realized Carolina was still waiting on you. “Shit shit I have to go! Where are my keys?” You maneuvered yourself out from under Adam and adjusted yourself. “On the table-” Once you saw them you grabbed them and were out of the house before Adam could say anything else.You appoligized to Carolina when you sat in the passenger seat. “Sorry, me and Adam were uh… talking. Got distracted.” Your friend raised an eyebrow at you. “Oh that makes sense. So how did your hair get messy and why are you painting and sweating?”

----------

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[nerissavenus]

Early morning run - NerissaVenus

Usually, you go on your morning runs alone, your husband complaining it's too early. Today, however, he joins you.

Enjoy,

Nerissa x

It was late, only the light from outside peeking through the curtains, creating light. The air was cool, a slight breeze coming from the open window, causing you to pull your cardigan tighter around you.

The air smelt of cigarettes, your perfume, and sex — your favourite scent in the apartment you shared with your husband.

You smiled softly at the scene in front of you. In your bed, covers bunched up, was your husband, sleeping, hugging your pillow.

Quietly, you got up to use the toilet. Drying your hands, you fluffed your hair around, trying to get it to sit in the way you wanted, but, of course, your hair was stubborn and refused until you eventually chucked it up in a ponytail.

Popping out your retainers, you reached for your purple toothbrush next to Adam’s blue one. It made you smile; it's a simple thing, but intimate.

Spitting the mouthwash out, you went out and rummaged for your workout gear, trying to be quiet so that your husband doesn’t wake up, mindful of the early hour.

Unfortunately, you weren’t as quiet as you wished; when you were slipping on your running trainers, a large arm wrapped around you and a long kiss was placed on your temple.

“Hello,” said Adam, groggy from just waking up.

“Hello,” you said back, grinning to yourself at his appearance. His hair was messy, at odd angles, and his eyes were barely open from sleep. “Sleep well?”

“Quite,” he replied, jumping out of bed, and slipping slightly on the pile of clothes lying on the floor. You desperately tried to stifle a laugh. He glanced back at you, more aware, and narrowed his eyes, “Not a word.”

You raised your hands in defence, “I wasn’t going to say anything.”

He humphed, clearly not believing you.

You watched as he turned the light to the en-suite on, closing his eyes and cursing from its brightness. He then brushed his teeth and too searched for his clothes.

“What are you doing?” You asked curiously, having been watching him the whole time. Adam didn’t usually get up early when he wasn’t working.

He shrugged his jumper on, walked towards you, bent down and kissed you softly, a goofy smile showing his dimples. “What does it look like? I’m going to go on a run with you.”

Without even meaning to, you laughed loudly. “Really?” You asked, excited, “Even though it’s ridiculously early?” Something he had complained about many, many times.

“Yes,” he rolled his eyes, “Even though it is ridiculously early.”

You pecked him on the lips, which soon turned into a full make out session. You hummed and pulled away, your hands on his chest. “No,” you shook your head, “When we come back, however...” you gave him a meaningful, suggestive look.

He smirked and eagerly sped down the hall, to the door, waiting for you.

You followed after him, thoroughly amused, “Slow down, boy. I need to take my greens first.”

Adam huffed impatiently, tapping his foot on the wooden floor whilst waiting for you to finish making and drinking your greens. Because of this, you took extra long, to make him wait. It was fun.

He stared at you suspiciously, tracking your every move as you put the powder in your cup, filled it with water, looked at it, added more and did it again, then brought out your whisk, holding the button for a minute… and longer. “You’re doing this on purpose.”

You glanced at him, feigning confusion, “Doing what on purpose?” You questioned, a small smirk begging to make an appearance.

“Whatever,” he mumbled, turning away to now stare at the door. You shook your head, turned off the whisk and downed the drink - he’d waited long enough.

“Come on then,” you said, walking past him and opening the door, holding it open for him, “Let’s go, let’s run!”

He wiggled his eyebrows when he past you, reminding you of what’s to come when you return.

Rolling your eyes, you smiled at his dorkiness, locking the door and popping the keys in your pocket.

You both raced each other down the stairs, and, of course, you won; though you knew he let you — no one with that amount of leg could lose to you, who in compassion, had basically nothing.

Either way, you still celebrated your victory, jumping up and down, pointing in his face, repeating “I win, I win”.

He watched you fondly, chuckling at your banter. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and brought you closer to him, “Let’s run so that we get home faster, and do some...” he gave you a hungry look, “activities.”

You looked up at him, eyebrows raised, "Alright," then you shoved his arm off you and ran away from him, starting your run.

"Hey!" he called, caught off guard, "That's not fair!"

"Nothing is, baby!" you shouted over your shoulder, continuing your pace.

Eventually, Adam caught up to you, which wasn't very hard.

You were very excited for when you got back home.

[cowboygenesis]

10: birthday girl | kylo ren x reader

part 10 of the "bump it, cool it" series: masterlist. | playlist

pairing: [modern!au] kylo ren x reader chapter warnings: explicit language, vague sexual imagery, alcohol consumption, smoking (cigarettes), mild poe dameron x reader. word count: 9.5k series summary: when your roommate’s older brother needs a place to crash, you begrudgingly offer up your couch— only to realize he’s the most insufferable, entitled asshole you’ve ever met. the worst part? you can’t seem to stop thinking about him. notes: why do my mc's always get drunk? is it time to explore other coping methods eckhem, plot devices? anyway, this chapter gave me a damn mf hard time because of its emotional weight but i really wanted to get it out by saturday. it's not proofread, so please let me know if it flows alright!

Now Playing: Veridis Quo - Daft Punk

“Happy Birthday!” carries through the tiled hallway as two men pass the curb of your apartment. Their shoes scrape against the welcome mat in tandem before being kicked off onto a sizeable stack of heels and boots in the corner.

You’re leaning against the junction of the foyer and kitchen, nursing a fizzy drink you don’t know the name of. For now you stay hidden, obscured by the shadows as wishes get exchanged.

“You guys!” Rey croons as her manicured hands clasp together, watching in awe as one of the men retrieves a small, wrapped gift from his jacket. She gasps, retrieving the package and giving it a soft shake near her ear where a faux gem dangles. “Finn, you didn’t have to.”

“Hey, hold up!” Poe pipes up with a wagging finger, eyes wide as he nods at the little parcel. “It’s from us both.”

You catch Finn rolling his eyes through a stiff smile, which tells you enough about Poe’s actual involvement in the thought-process. Maybe a little more. Watching Finn’s longing gaze trickling down Rey’s fitted pant-suit, you think it’s the latter.

Still, the birthday girl seems satisfied. Her body shifts to embrace them both in a warm, albeit awkward hug while they shove their coats off.

Rey gushes against the junction of their shoulders, making the two chuckle in tandem.

“Alright, alright,” Poe shoos her off through a wide grin, shrugging off his padded jean jacket to reveal a fitted, cornflower-blue button-up. It creases at his shoulders, ivory-buttons popped near the top to reveal a groomed chest. “I’m loving the excitement, but I just got this dry-cleaned.”

“Dude, you didn’t,” Finn sighs, making Poe shake his head, arms extended dramatically.

“I thought about it.”

“Right,” he chuckles, though his eyes focus on Rey. He gives her a quick size-up before smiling politely. “How’s the birthday girl feeling?”

Rey shrugs softly, retrieving her drink from the cupboard.

“Tired,” she says, her voice tight with a smile. She turns around, motioning for the two men to follow he through the foyer. “Midterms next week.”

“Ouch,” Finn hisses sympathetically, just as you approach the kitchen counter to inconspicously pour yourself another drink. “Well, let’s not think about that tonight.”

As the trio enters the living room, you turn to watch. Poe and Finn exchange dab-ups and smiles with the other guests as Rey retreats to her room. Despite yourself, you scan the crowded room for a familiar head of raven and as usual, you find him resting against the balcony balustrade.

It’s been a strange weekend. After your shopping rendezvous with Kylo and way too many close calls, you came home with guilt weighing down on your heart. While lusting after him had its ups, at the end of the day it was mostly downs. Sure, touching yourself to the thought of someone you shouldn’t want was fun until you realized the risks that came with it.

You told yourself from the get-go that this was a harmless, casual crush. There was something about this asshole that grinded your gears just right—just enough to make you want him inside of you. And you didn’t want a slow, passionate lovemaking session either; you wanted to be pounded against the wall and called something you’d normally get pissed with him about. At least once, just to scratch that itch.

You told yourself it was a natural, evolutionary reaction. Until the daydreaming started. Not just the usual, dirty fantasy, but… domesticity. When he drove you home after work, you thought about his hand on your thigh. When he made himself coffee in the mornings, you imagined him coming behind to kiss your neck and whisper sweet nothings in your ear.

So you decided to end it. The flirtationship, that is. Starting today, you were a hardheaded woman who easily recognized that all Kylo Ren was is a shameless flirt and a pain in your ass. I mean, he wasn’t even all that.

As your eyes scan over his profile, your heart thrums in your ears. You needed this drink, badly.

“There she is!” a familiar voice brings you back to Earth, making your eyes blink back into focus. Poe stands in front of you with a wide grin, Finn by his side.

“What’s got you scowling?” the latter questions, hands tucked in the pockets of his slacks.

Your eyebrows rise at the question, and your eyes quickly dart toward the full-length mirror at the far end of the living room. Surely enough, your reflection stares back at you blankly, its painted lips twisted into a deep frown.

“I—” you trail, eyeing the colorful liquid sloshing in your glass. There was no way in hell you’d tell these two about your dumbass problem, but you knew how nosy they could get with a poorly crafted lie. “I don’t like tequila.”

Poe deadpans at you, chin lowering. “You’re joking.”

“I kind of concur,” Finn shrugs through a self-satisfied smile that you quickly return, relieved at how easily you managed to drag their attention away from your soured mood.

“You’re both off your rockers,” Poe concludes, swiftly stealing your glass and taking a hefty sip. You don’t protest.

His eyes graze down your figure, taking in your outfit over the rim of the glass. You had been meticulous with picking every element out, just in case it made a difference at the end of the night.

Poe nods at you, lips curled and wet with the stolen cocktail.

“Cute outfit.”

“Thanks,” you smile, doing a half-spin to demonstrate the sparkles lining your dress before taking their own ensembles in. While Poe kept on-brand with his sexy, semi-formal attire, Finn’s turtleneck makes him appear classy and professional. “You two clean up nicely.”

“You clean up nicer,” Poe quickly corrects, his enunciation making you match his chuckle.

Whilst you’ve known the two since highschool, you had never considered either of them to be suitable partner material. While Finn spent his days lusting over poor Rey, Poe’s extreme advances made him infamously unserious and undateable. While the flirting was fun on occasion, tonight is the first time you feel emboldened enough to reciprocate. Maybe it’s your poor mood, or the alcohol in your system.

Most likely, it’s the man smoking on the balcony.

“Uh huh,” you quirk a brow, head tilting in a silent challenge. “Lay it off, Dameron.”

He shrugs, giving you a boyish smirk. “It’s worth a try.”

The comment doesn’t make your stomach flip, but works just enough to give you a small, pleasant headrush. Maybe this is exactly what you needed to get over your stupid crush on Kylo—a rebound.

Before you can overthink the repercussions of hitting on your friend, you shoot him a foxy smile. “Then keep at it.”

He grins back like you’ve wordlessly permitted him to misbehave. “Oh, I don’t think you want that.”

“He’s right,” Finn groans beside you, eyes rolling. “You don’t want this.”

His friend faces him with a wide grin, pushing a finger against his chest that only makes Finn groan louder. “Jealous?”

“You wish.”

“Yeah,” Poe sighs, faking exasperation as you watch the two with a lazy smile. “I do.”

Behind their shoulders, you catch a glimpse of the birthday girl strutting out of the hallway. She spots your gaze, and quickly pushes through the small crowd of guests.

“Here you are,” you greet just as she straightens at your side. Her lips are parted to let more air in, hands smoothing fervently down her dress to keep it tidy.

“About time,” Finn utters through a relieved smile, his chest puffing up just slightly. To the untrained eye, it meant nothing; but you’ve known the man for long enough to spy his intentions. “Please save me from these two.”

“Love you too, bud,” Poe coos, and you grin with a nod.

“You two are impossible,” Rey shakes her head, making each of you turn with quirked brows.

“Me and him,” Poe points toward Finn, then pivots to you. “Or me and her?”

The woman shrugs with a soft smile. “Go figure.”

“Hey, regardless, I take offense to that,” he utters, pressing a theatrical hand to his chest. “I’ve been nothing but a gentleman all evening.”

“Uh huh,” you mutter quietly, urging Poe’s attention. He can’t help the smirk riding his features, eyes twinkling with challenge.

“You don’t think so?”

You shrug, mildly regretting putting yourself in this situation. The flirting was fun, but something in your stomach threatened to lunge every time you let yourself loose.

“Alright gentlemen, if I may,” Rey jumps in, placing a knowing hand against your nude shoulderblade. You feel yourself tense at first, before dropping your arms with relief. “I think Temmin and Jess were looking for you two.”

Poe perks up at that, his smirk widening. “Oh, yeah? Bet good ole’ Snap is gonna try to hustle me at Rummy again.” He nudges at Finn, interrupting the man’s brief daydreaming spell.

“Uh, yeah. Right,” he nods before eyeing you and Rey, giving each of you a cordial nod. His gaze lingers on the latter as Poe begins pulling at his arm. “I’ll see you later.”

As the two merge into the crowd, you briefly catch sound of Finn’s groaning about ‘wasting time on a rigged game’ before they’re completely out of earshot.

The booming speakers shift to a mellow rap tune you don’t recognize as Rey invades your space, moving you both toward the wall. She sighs, arms crossed and looking down at her strappy heels as your lips shift into a foxy grin.

When she looks up again, you’re on the verge of a chuckle.

“Don’t,” she utters firmly, brows knitted as if your look alone told her all she needed to know about your intentions.

“Rey.” you push, head tilting in encouragement as your hand lands on her arm.

“Please spare me the embarrassment.”

You stop for a beat, lips tight with an unspoken tease as her gaze bores into nothing. When you let out a sharp exhale to soothe the laugh bubbling in your throat, she finally looks at you.

“He’s still into you.”

“I know.” Rey groans, barely letting you finish your thought. Her dramatic reaction makes you chuckle, but it quickly shifts into a smile of sympathy.

“We can drop it if you like,” you shrug as she chews on her bottom lip. “I just thought it was sweet.”

“No, no,” she shakes her head, rubbing one hand against her temple. “It’s okay. It is sweet, I just… I actually wanted to tell you something.”

You quirk a curious brow, head tilted as you give her a nod. Rey watches you with a scrunched nose, exhaling softly in preparation for confession.

“Okay,” she trails nervously, fidgeting with the gems lining her bodice. With a final exhale, she begins her admission. “I think I met—”

“Birthday girl!” comes a melodic voice, widening your eyes slightly. Rey, on the other hand, jumps at the sudden invasion, her fingers jittering as a hand emerges on her waist.

The figure dips from the shadows, her confident stature crowding Rey’s space as you take a moment to make sense of everything.

“Maya,” your roommate utters through a wide smile, shifting just enough to hug the stranger tightly. When they withdraw, Maya’s eyes drift to yours.

She speaks your name, and you give her a pleasant smile. As your arm extends, she catches it in an impressively firm handshake.

“Nice to meet you,” you nod, taking in the woman’s visage before shifting your gaze to Rey. You think she catches your knowing smile when her arm rests on the newcomer’s shoulder.

“Maya works in my division,” she explains, her eyes flickering toward the woman’s effortlessly put-together outfit. “We met at a company event.”

Maya hums in acknowledgment, her eyes warm as she glances toward Rey. “Not just met,” she corrects with an easy smirk. “She saved my ass in front of our regional director. If it weren’t for her, I’d be out of a job.”

Rey shakes her head, waving off the compliment. “That’s not true, you just needed someone to—”

“Translate my rambling into something coherent?” Maya interjects playfully.

You watch the exchange with growing amusement, noting the way Rey’s ears turn a shade darker under the club’s dim lighting. The air between them hums with something soft, charged. It’s a different kind of tension than the one you share with Poe—less teasing, more… shy, genuine.

“Anyway,” Maya says, her fingers brushing briefly over Rey’s arm, “I wanted to talk to you about something work-related. Nothing urgent, just running some numbers—whenever you’ve got a moment.”

Rey nods, perhaps a little too quickly. “Yeah, of course.”

Her eyes meet yours knowingly, and you give her a quick, encouraging nod. Rey seems to grin back at you in thanks, reaching her coworker’s gaze. You know exactly what ‘running numbers’ actually meant.

“Want to go over it now?”

“I’d like that.” Maya smiles, her arm planting around Rey’s shoulder as she nods toward you. “Sorry for stealing her away.”

You shake your head with a relaxed grin, waving your hand in denial. “Nonsense, I think she’d appreciate the change of pace.”

The two women’s smiles widen, eyes glittering with appreciation. You feel like you’ve been asked for a marriage blessing.

“Well, then,” Maya trails, “Nice meeting you.”

“Likewise.”

As the two of them drift deeper into the kitchen you linger behind, exhaling softly as you take in the scene around you.

The party hasn’t come into full swing yet, clusters of guests lining the walls and chatting happily. The music has settled into something slow and rhythmic, the bass thrumming low in your chest as you enjoy a brief moment of solitude.

With little to focus on, your mind is forced to acknowledge the dryness in your throat. Your eyes pivot toward the kitchen counter, and before you can rethink your decision, you’re already strutting toward the makeshift bar you helped set up earlier.

A dark red cloth lines the marble, lined with an array of alcohols; wines, affordable liquors, and mixers to wash it down with. You smile pridefully at your work, hand mindlessly landing over one of the amber bottles.

“You know, I was kinda hoping you’d have that diner get-up on.”

Your expression turns stony at the familiar voice, head held low as you uncork the half-empty whiskey bottle. You promised yourself minimal contact, and you’d hone that with whatever it took.

“What’s up with you and that uniform?” you reply flatly as you tilt the nozzle against your glass.

There’s a beat of silence, and momentarily you hope your dryness has shoved him away. But you still feel his presence, looming over your side like an evil shadow.

“Honestly?”

“Yeah?” you ask half-heartedly, completing your drink with a hefty dash of coke. You place the bottle back down, satisfied.

You feel him shift, leaning his hip against the kitchen counter. “It’s hot.”

A shiver runs down your neck, making it snap toward him. It’s not the first time you’ve seen him tonight, but it’s certainly the first time it steals your breath.

Kylo stands next to you, half-illuminated by the blue moodlight. He dons a pair of loose slacks and his usual arrangement of trim bracelets and a silver watch. His black button-up is neatly undone at the collar, sleeves rolled up to his elbows to reveal his forearms. His hair rolls in soft waves, framing his smiling face.

“Shut up.” you snap after a beat, shooting daggers at the man who stares at you point-blank, smelling too delicious for you to focus.

You expect him to chuckle, but he doesn’t. Instead, the smile on his face stays ever-evident as he reiterates his point. “No, seriously.”

His gaze feels inviting, but you force your eyes away. For a beat, you let yourself dip your lips into the glass, swallowing up the umber liquid in thick streams. Maybe if you ignored him for long enough, he’d let you be.

But even as the silence stretches into discomfort, he perseveres by your side. You inch your gaze up again, watching as his face contorts into something solemn.

His lips part as he surveys your figure, but this time it’s not predatory; his gaze is soft, tracing your curves and taking in your aura like it’s something to behold. “You look good tonight.”

Your lips flatten into a line, eyes briefly flickering over his legs. “You, too.”

“I know,” he retorts, and you know he means it. Somehow, despite the contempt you vowed to feel for him, the statement makes your lips curl into an unwanted smirk.

“Ass.”

Yet again, he doesn’t chuckle. You watch him still there for a moment, chest heaving slowly as the music plays on between you. People weave in and out, carrying drinks and laughing while you wonder why Kylo chose to talk to you tonight.

“Was Rey happy with her present?” you finally utter, taking another sip of your drink.

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, making you look at him again. His lips are slightly parted as he motions toward the living room with an easy nod.

You follow his line of sight, glancing over your shoulder. It takes you a moment to find them in the crowd, but eventually spot two women sitting on the edge of your couch, grazing hands and laughing.

“She’s been busy oggling her coworker. Cute, right?”

“Oh god,” you chuckle, watching your roommate trace Maya’s shoulder before deeming it too inappropriate to keep staring. Your gaze turns back to Kylo. “So I’m not crazy after all.”

“You might be,” he corrects through a shrug, “just not about this.”

You scoff, twisting your body to let your back rest against the counter. “Charming.”

Kylo chuckles, matching your position. You stand side by side, watching the din of the party pick up. You don’t feel a strain between you, but it’s not exactly comfortable, either. A part of you wants to break the ice and act like a mature adult, even though you know Kylo won’t be able to give you that same treatment.

“That’s the worst coke-to-rum ratio I’ve ever seen,” he comments, making your eyes roll through your next sip.

“First of all, this is whiskey,” you correct, raising your glass as if to demonstrate. Kylo doesn’t look particularly impressed by your schooling, but he listens, anyway. “And second of all, what’s your fucking problem?”

He laughs at that, head shaking in awe of your aggression. As usual, he doesn’t seem to take your edge too seriously.

“You getting sloshed tonight?”

“Sloshed?” you repeat, laughing sardonically at his choice of vocabulary. “God, you’re old.”

Kylo smirks treacherously, sizing you up for a moment. “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”

“It is a bad thing,” you counter, tilting your head at him. “You probably grew up calling it ‘booze’ and saying shit like ‘paint the town red.’”

“I don’t think I’ve ever said that in my life.”

“But you could,” you press, jabbing a finger in his direction. “And that’s the point.”

Kylo exhales another laugh, his gaze flicking over you with that same infuriating ease. “You’re in rare form tonight.”

“I’m delightful,” you deadpan, taking another sip. “And to answer your question, I might. Depending on how things go tonight.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you shrug, downing the rest of your drink and setting it down on the counter. Your throat burns with the aftermath of your desperation. “Just don’t count on anything.”

He shakes his head, watching your frustrated expression with pointed curiosity. “I really wasn’t.”

“Good,” you snap, crossing your arms now that you have nothing else to do. “Now please back off, you reek.”

His brows lift. “Do I?”

“Like cigarettes,” you say pointedly, though it’s a lie. He does smell like cigarettes, but it’s not exactly bad. Your brain pegs it as warm and familiar, though it’s not something you’re about to let yourself feel while pretending to be mad at him.

Kylo, of course, sees right through you. “You don’t mind that.”

“I do.”

“No, you don’t.”

You huff. “I do when it’s coming off of you.”

That makes him grin. He leans in just barely, enough to test your wavering determination. “That so?”

You steel yourself, tipping your chin up to match his dark gaze.

“Yes. So please,” you trail, puffing out your chest to stand just a bit taller. You could never match his physical stature, but it certainly wouldn’t hurt to try. “Is there anything else?”

His gaze drags over you once again, eyes dark and filled with a certain mockery. It’s not unusual, yet your stomach tingles regardless.

“Actually, yeah,” he speaks, voice dipping an octave.

You swallow thickly, nails digging into your palms as you endure his stare. “Then spit it out.”

His gaze flickers over your face, lips parting on the edge of a sentence. You watch him carefully, your knitted brows briefly relaxing under the weight of your curiosity. Despite yourself, you hope for something big. Something life-altering.

Before you get the chance to find out, he stills. Kylo’s gaze peeks over your shoulder, his form stiffening. Your ears drone when you match his line of sight.

A woman stands in the foyer of your apartment, clad in a luxurious fur coat. Her freshly-bleached hair shines in the lowlight, contrasting with her glowy complexion as she shrugs her outerwear off. Her thin, toned shoulders don the straps of a beautiful dress, the satiny fabric falling over her figure in rich cascades.

“Sienna,” he whispers, and your spine shudders with something deep-rooted. Your eyes stay glued to her form, watching as she enters the living room with a cunning smile painting her sharp features.

When you force your gaze back to your roommate, his forehead is slick with a film of sweat. You don’t recognize the expression boring into his eyes, but it feels visceral enough to make your eyebrows knit with worry.

“Kylo—”

“Give me a second,” he utters lowly, never meeting your gaze as he rushes past you and quickly disappears into the room in pursuit of the mysterious woman.

You’re once again left alone, arm hanging mid-air while your heart hammers against your ribcage and into your ears. A slow, trickling unease settles into your stomach, and you wonder if it’s because you haven’t eaten or something much harder to digest.

You’ve only seen her in pictures, and yet even those failed to capture the sheer elegance Sienna exuded stepping into your apartment—your home. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think she fit right in.

Except no conceivable explanation could align with that thought. If she was really an ex—Kylo’s ex, no less—why would she be invited? Why would she strut in like she owns the place; owns Kylo Ren?

A quiet, insistent voice at the back of your mind utters whispers of a possibility that makes your stomach churn.

Maybe she wasn’t an ex anymore?

Before you can dwell on that surprisingly agonizing thought, you feel a gentle hand graze your shoulderblade. When you turn, wide-eyed and hopeful, you’re met with Finn’s smile.

“Hey,” he greets, positioning himself by your side. You nod at him, urging the softest, saddest smile out in acknowledgment of his presence.

Poe rushes into your circle seconds later, pink and fresh-faced as he shoots you a wild grin.

“God, you won’t believe who—” he trails until he catches your perturbed expression, making his smile drop. His gaze lowers to match yours, looking at you beneath his bushy brows. “Hey doll, you alright?”

You shake your head through a nervous smile, trying to urge their worries away. As relieved as you feel with them around, you don’t think it’s the right moment to dissect your feelings.

“I’m okay,” you chuckle sardonically, placing your hands on their backs in reassurance. They match your smile with their own. “Just feeling a little overwhelmed. With the crowd.”

Neither of them look convinced. Poe’s dark eyes scan your face, brows furrowing. “You sure?”

“Yeah,” you say, forcing out a light chuckle. “I mean, it’s Rey’s birthday. Not really the time for—”

And then you catch them.

Through the narrow glass doors leading to the balcony, Kylo and Sienna stand facing each other. She’s laughing at something, delicate, manicured fingers brushing the sleeve of his leather jacket. His head is tilted down, face out of sight, but you can tell he’s listening; engaged in whatever she’s saying.

Your stomach clenches again, and you realize it’s not something you can hide anymore.

“Do you guys know that girl?” you ask suddenly, voice a little too sharp as you turn back to your friends.

They follow your gaze curiously, and Finn immediately sighs. Poe, on the other hand, grabs your arm and shakes you like a rattle. “This is exactly what we were coming to tell you about!”

“Where’s Rey?” Finn questions, urging his friend to groan.

“Dude. This crush is really getting out of hand.”

Finn rolls his eyes, rubbing at his temple. “No, no. I mean, does she even know about this?”

“What?” you utter, eyebrows low on your face as you try to make sense of their banter. The two men look toward you, their excitable expressions dropping to something more sympathetic.

"It’s Sienna," Poe utters like it’s obvious, his eyes flickering across your face for a trace of understanding. And you don’t.

Before you can question them, you catch a familiar glimmer in your peripheral. Rey’s voice catches you off-guard before you even comprehend her outrage. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”

“What?” you reiterate, eyes blinking quickly as you scramble for an ounce of information.

“Her,” Rey points toward the balcony, finger jittering. As your gaze finally meets her face, you realize just how enraged she looks; eyebrows knitted, lip pursed, and absolutely no sign of her arm candy.

“Wait, hold up—” you continue flailing as Rey brings all of you closer to vent her frustrations.

“Who the fuck invited her?”

Finn sighs, head shaking in disbelief. “Who do you think invited her?”

Rey’s eyes narrow, her attention pivoting toward the man. “Do not sass me right now, Finn,”

“I-I’m not, I’m just—”

“Who is she?!” You hiss desperately, bile rising to your throat as your friends face you with curious glances.

“What?” Rey tilts her head, brow furrowed.

You exhale slowly, fingers sinking into the fabric of your dress as you calm your nerves. “Who is she?”

Poe and Finn exchange looks, their faces somber and confused at your sudden uproar. Rey purses her lips. And as hard as it is, you try your damn best to keep your attention away from the balcony.

“It’s Sienna.” Poe finally utters, his tone uncharacteristically flat.

“I know it’s Sienna, I just—” you groan, rubbing at your shoulder. “Who is she?”

“You…” Finn speaks, his voice low and careful as he matches your gaze. “You don’t know?”

“How the fuck would I know?” you reply with more exasperation than anger, eyes flickering between the two men. “How do you two know?”

Poe and Finn look at each other, then Rey. Your gaze moves to the woman who eyes you with confusion and an unusual semblance of guilt.

When she speaks, her voice is soft. “I told them.”

You inch your hand toward the counter, leaning against it to combat the sudden dizziness. You really should have eaten before drinking.

You meet her gaze with narrowed eyes, but you’re not angry. If anything, you want to understand and get this shit-show over with so you can go back to pretending you don’t give a damn about Kylo and his romantic life. “Okay, and you didn’t think to tell me?”

Rey’s lips purse, eyes flickering over nothing as she makes sense of it all.

“I thought that…” she trails, her face shifting into a strange sneer. “I thought Kylo would tell you.”

You can’t help but scoff, more at the possibility of Kylo trusting you with such information than anything. Your nostrils flare, fists unclenching as your gaze lowers to your shoes.

“We’re not friends, Rey,” you explain lowly, avoiding your friends’ sharp, inquisitive gazes. Your breath hitches, and as you look at your roommate again, your lips shift into a sardonic smile. “We’re nothing.”

The moment that follows is charged with electricity. Your ears drum with blood and hip hop as the four of you adjust to whatever the hell just happened.

Finn and Rey exchange glances while Poe frowns at you with confusion. Your agitation probably makes no sense to them without the context of your internal turmoil, but you’re not ready to talk about it. Yet, or ever. If things went according to plan, you’d never have to; Kylo would eventually move out, your juvenile crush would vanish, and things would eventually go back to normal.

But for now, you wanted answers.

“Now,” you sigh, clasping your hands together as a grin emerges on your face, “please fill me in.”

Your friends look at you with trepidation and something akin to curiosity. You can only pray you’ve pulled off the nonchalant persona you’ve been crafting all evening, at least for the time being.

“Who’s Sienna?” you repeat, softer this time around.

Finn is the first to perk up at your change in mein, clearing his throat before facing you head-on. "His ex."

You knew that already, but they don’t know that. There was no way in hell you’d confess to rummaging through Kylo’s phone, so another lie was unfortunately due. "Ex?"

"Yep," your friend continues, his arms crossing. "The Ex. Capital E."

You catch Poe straightening his posture, the worried glint in his eyes returning to playfulness again. "They were together for a while. They broke up, got back together. Broke up again, got back together again—"

"It was a whole thing," Rey suddenly interrupts, her unease taking center stage. When everyone goes quiet, she speaks after a prolonged sigh. "They met during their Master’s.”

“Moved in after a year,” Poe nods with knitted brows, his lip turned into a sneer. “Can you believe that? I mean, you gotta wait at least—”

“Poe!” Rey hisses, making the man stop in his tracks. His gaze flickers between each of you before he clears his throat, waving apologetically.

“Sorry. Carry on.”

Rey exasperates, but as she shifts her weight, her train of thought seems to bounce back.

“She seemed good for him,” she states, looking down at the floor, “Took him out to network, helped him out with his thesis. Just… got him to open up a little.” She snorts suddenly, her eyes rolling. “God, he even brought her to Thanksgiving once. What a doozy.”

You try your best to contain the surprise in your eyes. Kylo Ren bringing a girl to meet the parents? It seemed strange, but at this point you wouldn’t put anything beyond that man.

“What happened next?”

Rey sighs, stilling for a moment as she recounts the events. You’re sure the whole story is much longer than she leads on, but for now, you’re satisfied to just be in the know.

“He proposed,” she mutters, and your heart drops despite hearing it all before. Somehow, you weren’t sure Kylo was even telling the truth, but now that you got a third-party verification, it begins to sink in and leave a bitter aftertaste.

“I mean, I don’t think he was ready,” Rey trails, waving her hands around. “He called me one day and asked what he should do, which, I mean—he never calls me. Ever.”

Your brows furrow in tandem with Rey’s, her lip catching between her teeth. She worries it for a while, gaze still dropped low. “I told him that if he had to ask, maybe he already knew the answer.”

“And?” your voice comes out tighter than you’d wished, the trio’s gaze reaching yours.

“And he did it anyway.” Rey mumbles, her eyes narrowing with something on the verge of anger. “Picked out a ring, found a semi-decent location, and popped the question.”

It’s all beyond you. You can’t even begin to imagine a ring stuffing his expensive jeans, Kylo on his knee with a soft smile painting his features as this beautiful, ephemeral woman jumps in his arms with a strained, tearful ‘yes’.

“But…” you trail slightly breathlessly, swallowing before you continue. “They didn’t get married?”

“Thankfully,” Poe mutters, his eyes rolling half-heartedly.

You turn to Rey with a raised brow, lips parted as you scan her face for clues. Thankfully?

Her nose scrunches, hand coming to rub at her forearm. You watch carefully, just at the precipice, your eyes briefly flickering to the pair on the balcony.

“She cheated.”

Your eyes widen, heart thumping in tandem with the bass of the speakers.

“What?” you utter dryly, body stiffening.

Rey sighs once again, her tone growing increasingly strained with the memories. “Some guy from her office.”

You think your fists clench. Somehow, you can’t seem to drag your gaze away from the flaxen-haired woman, her red lips sweet with laughter. Sienna traces Kylo’s bicep, and her slim finger glimmers.

“Oh my god.”

Finn and Poe exchange pitiful looks, sympathizing with your reaction. The former nods, lips flattened. “Yeah.”

You forcefully glance away from the window, blinking repeatedly to let the barrage of information sink in.

He tried committing, and it blew up in his face. He tried making a meaningful connection, and his life fell apart. Momentarily, you think it all makes sense. You can’t justify his behavior toward you, but at least this context has allowed you to understand it.

But what tugs at your heartstrings now is not sympathy, but pity. Frustration.

“Why is she here?” you mutter tightly.

Finn shakes his head. “That’s what we’re trying to find out.”

Poe groans, his arm flying around Rey’s shoulder. She raises a brow at him, and he shoots her a wild grin. “Let’s kick her out.”

“And cause a scene?” Finn scoffs in return, head shaking as Rey lets out a long, defeated exhale.

“She’ll leave soon enough,” the woman says, gaze briefly flickering toward you. You’re not sure why, but it feels knowing. “As long as she gets what she wants.”

Your gaze flickers toward the balcony again. Inexplicably, the pair seems closer.

“And…” you trail treacherously, eyebrows winding, “what does she want?”

The woman traces Kylo’s chest, her arms cocooning around his neck. It’s hard to tell from this distance, but you doubt he flinches. His broad shoulders stay fixed as his ex-fiance leans against his ear, lips curled into a hellish smile as her eyes fix on you.

Icicles burrow into your chest, trickling down your sides and making you still. Your eyes are wide, lips parted as your friends try to reach you, and fail.

“Excuse me for a second,” you mutter dryly, quickly turning on your heel and booking it out of the kitchen. On your way, you haphazardly grab one of the bottles lining the counter.

Rey calls your name. Then Poe, then Finn. Their voices melt into a cacophony of white noise as you march your heated body through the sea of guests and out the door.

୨ৎ

The pavement is cold beneath you as the party carries on upstairs. The distant thrum of bass echoes through the walls, chilling your spine and making your hand clasp tighter around the stolen bottle.

Every swig you take helps soothe the chill in your gut. The amber liquid burns down your throat, making your eyes prickle with tears that glow faintly under the warm streetlights above. A car passes every once in a while, swirling a gust of wind against your nude forearms.

It’s a beautiful evening in March. The skyline spills into shades of black and blue, speckled with faraway constellations that blink and hum at you in their indifference. You envy their apathy, and curse your heart for swelling over something you vowed to renounce.

You sigh, tipping the bottle against your lips again. You feel positively mellow by now, though not quite adequately to bypass your anxieties.

You hear dull footsteps emerge behind you, making you sigh in exasperation. You wipe the wetness from your cheeks with the back of your hand, careful to keep your makeup mostly intact, and brace for conversation.

“Easy tiger,” the voice taunts, making your body stiffen at its familiar gravel. “Leave some for me.”

The figure hovers behind you for a second, rustling and rummaging as you take deep breaths to calm your hammering heart. The coincidence couldn’t be any more unfortunate for you, but there was nowhere to run anymore; this curb was your only safe haven, and now it was being invaded.

“You wouldn’t want it,” you croak out, keeping your gaze straight as the man emerges in your peripheral. “It’s got my saliva all over the top.”

You hear him chuckle, but the sound is muffled.

“What are we, twelve?” he retorts, his lilt teasing but light. You think his nonchalance should upset you, but with the knowledge you’ve acquired tonight, you’re not sure anymore.

You inhale deeply, letting the cool air coat your lungs before you settle the bottle in your lap. Like ripping a bandaid off, you turn toward the figure in one, swift movement.

Kylo Ren stands at your side, clad in his worn, leather jacket. His gaze is narrowed as it roams over your hunched-over body, toying with the pale smoke nestled between his lips.

You lick the dryness off your lips, eyebrows furrowed as you finally speak. “Why are you here?”

Kylo stays silent, hand fishing into his pocket to withdraw a small carton. He flicks the top open with his thumb, extending the parcel toward you with a raised brow.

Your eyes flicker between the last cigarette lodged within and the man’s curious gaze. After a beat of squeezing your lips together, you shake your head. “No, thanks.”

He only shrugs, tucking the box back into his jacket and withdrawing a lighter instead. The clear, red-tinted plastic catches your eye. It quickly disappears from your line of sight as Kylo shields it from the breeze, flicking the metal wheel and taking his first drag. The soft firelight casts his face in warmth, contouring his nose and the divot of his brows.

“Your loss.”

You watch him quietly as he exhales a thin cloud of grey smoke, letting it twirl against the dark setting. When he finally captures your gaze, your nostrils flare. “Shouldn’t you be inside?”

He quirks a brow, eyeing your underdressed form. In your short panic, you prioritized liquor over a warm coat or sweater, so now you were left to fend for yourself in your dress and stockings alone.

“Shouldn’t you?”

You break away from his taunting gaze, focusing instead on the tips of your kitten heels. You swing them back and forth, mesmerized by the glittering crystals lining the toe box. “I needed air.”

“Yeah,” he snorts, nodding toward your lap, “and half a bottle of whiskey?”

You meet his gaze slowly, eyes narrowing. There’s little taunt in his tone and no mocking smile painting his lips, but the memory of those hands grasping your waist the same way they did Sienna’s makes your throat run dry.

“You don’t get to judge me, Ren.”

His eyes soften, lips curling into a frown as he exhales another puff. “I’m not.”

You linger on him for a moment before finally shifting your focus toward the stars. The city skyline isn’t visible from where you sit, but you still spot the expansive light pollution just beyond the brownstones.

Kylo watches with you, head tilted to let his locks cascade down the back of his neck. His long, dark lashes brush over his pale cheekbones, breaking up the cigarette smoke as it ascends. Over this backdrop of light he looks beautiful. And that makes you spiral.

“How’s Sienna?” you suddenly ask, the words cutting through the silence like a hot blade. You don’t mean to be snarky, but your tone is laced with a venom you hope he won’t notice.

Kylo turns, taking a long stride toward you. You don’t watch his face, but imagine he’s not showing a single trace of astonishment at your question.

“Did they tell you, or did you figure it out yourself?” he questions, voice smooth and lacklustre. You think he expected this conversation at one point or another.

You chew your bottom lip, heel tapping against the rough concrete. “Little bit of both.”

Kylo exhales sharply, and when you turn to catch a smile, he’s scowling instead. “Figures.”

You watch him fidget with the hem of his sleeve, sucking the filter with extra might as he looks over the horizon. Perhaps purposefully, he’s inched his face away from yours.

Something tells you he’s hurting despite the serenity of his mein. And while you don’t consider yourself the best shoulder for him to cry on, it’d be wrong to turn him away. Even if you know this conversation will sting, and it’ll be hard to keep your anger and frustration at bay.

An audible sigh escapes your lips as you place the bottle on the curb. You twist your body toward the man while a soft, bittersweet smile paints your features. "You gonna tell me what happened, or do I have to guess?"

He turns toward you, eyes subdued but glassy. He grips his half-finished cigarette tightly, smoothly turning toward the curbside trashcan to snuff it out. "You already know the gist."

You shrug as he tosses the filter. "I wanna hear it from you."

He watches you curiously, taking in your half-baked expression and the goosebumps lining your skin. If he scowled and turned heel right now, you wouldn’t be surprised or even blame him.

But he doesn’t.

Instead, you watch with bated breath as he approaches you, hovering by your side and dwarfing your shrunken figure for a beat. His nostrils flare and his jaw tightens at the hinges. Your lips part to speak, but he’s already nodding. Before you can change your mind, Kylo Ren slumps by your side with an exhale.

Your eyes flicker over his face, taking in the solemnity of his features. If it were any other circumstance, you think you’d find comfort in counting the moles lining his skin.

"We met at university,” he finally mutters, bending his legs at the knee. You match his pose, and let your lips purse.

"I know."

Kylo snorts, flickering his gaze toward you. At this proximity, the gesture makes your heart jump. "Of course you do."

You return his sardonic smirk with something more encouraging, doing your best to ignore your arms brushing at the small junction of your elbows. Still, neither of you is brave or smart enough to move away.

“She was… nice,” he starts again, tracing his gaze over the road ahead. “Charismatic. Not always this…”

“Cruel?” you mutter, cursing at yourself for butting in. You can’t help the frustration boiling in your gut at the thought of that beautiful, horrible woman, and Kylo seems to share that sentiment when you catch him exhale again.

“Yeah. Cruel.”

When he’s silent for a beat, you allow your legs to extend toward the street. The stretch makes you hum softly, eyes narrowed as you click your shoes together. “Was she good to you?”

It’s a simple question, but makes Kylo stiffen nonetheless. You feel his shoulder tighten against yours, muscles flexing just to relax a second after.

“Yeah,” he replies quietly, finally parting your limbs when he leans back. “At first.”

Without second thought, you match his position again. You’re not touching anymore, but the angle lets you study his expression better.

“She was sharp and knew exactly what she wanted,” Kylo continues, letting one knee fall to the side. After a beat, he chuckles, letting his subsequent words materialize as a half-whisper. “So, naturally, she thought I was a mess.”

You quirk a brow at him, hanging onto any pretense of laughter like a lifeline. “You are a mess.”

His chuckle shifts into an amalgamation of snorts and giggles, eyes briefly catching yours. You bite your lip at the guile within his pupils, dark and perilous as they bore into yours.

“Yeah, well, she liked that about me,” he huffs, tilting his head back. “Said I was intense. Thought it made me interesting.”

The words don’t sit right with you, but you abstain from commenting this time. Judging by the wistful, misplaced look daubing his face, you think the memories are at least partially fond.

You swallow thickly, watching the small space between your palms.

“Did you love her?”

Kylo straightens at that, looking blankly into the sky before he sits up again. His face is, once again, stolen away from your thoughtful regard, the distance between you growing within milliseconds.

“I wanted to,” he says plainly, his broad back flexing in front of your eyes. “I think I did.”

It’s not a clear answer, but you think it’s honest. You’ve loved before, only to let those feelings fall on deaf ears and emerge as something completely foreign. Love wasn’t easy to define that way, and you think Kylo felt the same.

“She always needed attention,” he utters again, head shaking slowly, “more than I could give.”

You stay back this time, granting him space to think.

“I worked late. I was… I was stressed all the time, and she just hated that. Hated that I’d shut down and get antsy instead of just talking to her,” the man trails, his voice shifting into something entirely alien to your trained ears. “I told her about my family. My upbringing, how it… made me this way, or whatever,” he shifts his arms forward, making his back droop and shrink. “But that wasn’t enough. There was always something wrong, and…”

He twists his neck to look at you, and the rest of this story becomes immediately apparent with the sorrow in his eyes.

“I walked in on them.”

Your eyebrows knit tightly, grimacing as you inch forward. Instinctively, you let your hand settle between his shoulderblades, and shiver when he doesn’t pull away. “Christ, Kylo.”

“We were gonna go to dinner that night,” he elaborates tightly as you shift your body closer, letting your thigh press against his. “Talk about everything and—”

"Kylo,” you try to assure, eyes narrowing in pity as his own glaze over.

"I dropped my studies for her,” he suddenly barks with laughter, teeth baring with a scathing grin. “I thought that it’d make her happy.” His lip trembles, making your heart sink. “That if I just had more time, I could fix things."

He shifts his face away, but you catch the tremble of his lip just in time.

You move before you can think.

Your hands shoot up from your lap, framing his head and swiftly settling on either cheek. The warmth tugs at your soul as you forcefully pivot him to face you.

His face is solemn, lips plush and trembling while his eyes glaze with withheld tears. They flicker over your face in inquiry, interest, dark pupils wide and expectant.

"She fucked up," you breathe strongly, scarcely pressing his cheeks as you chastise him. Your tone is strained, mingling with distant music as the words threaten to lodge in your throat at the warmth of his breath. "Not you."

His tear-slick gaze flickers over your face in search of something, before you catch his lips curl into an unreadable smile.

"Then why does it feel like I’m the idiot?"

His strained, tight words caress your heart, lips pursing at the pure, uninhibited vulnerability banding his expression. You know it’s wrong to think this way in such a pivotal moment, and perhaps in general, but between the relentless storm of your thoughts you suppose you’d love to kiss him.

"Because you are," you mutter quietly, tone soft and detached as you sort the flooding thwarting of your system.

And instead of furrowing his brow or standing up to leave you in the cold like you deserve, he does the unthinkable.

Kylo Ren escapes the confines of your palms and laughs.

The sound carries through the night like a lost prayer, enveloping your body like a velvety, warm sheet. Your lips part with forgotten apologies, eyes wide as you greedily lap up the misguided bliss of your arch-rival.

When he calms enough to speak, the vulnerability is gone from his eyes. If it hadn’t made you so agitated, you’d question if it was even there in the first place.

"Is that so?” Kylo tilts his head, letting dark tresses tumble over his forehead.

You’re dazed and confused, eyeing him like a lunatic. Between the uncertainty of your feelings and his agonizingly prompt switch up, little makes sense to you anymore.

“I say it how I see it,” you urge quietly, squeezing your palms into the soft material of your dress. With the culmination of your discussion, you finally sense the heat creeping into your face, contrasting with the goosebumps lining your arms.

He chuckles softly at your reply, but withholds any further taunting. Instead, you watch him rest his elbows on either knee, eyes closed as he takes in the evening breeze.

And although this isn’t about you, you don’t feel satiated.

Besides the awful, deep-rooted jealousy you try to sweep away, there’s a hint of concern. It’s slim and likely insignificant had you decided it to be, but instead, you pursue it.

“Why is she here?”

Kylo opens his eyes, turning toward you with more curiosity than frustration.

“I think she’s trying to make things right,” he explains lowly, eyes rolling haphazardly as he continues. “As always.”

The ambiguous answer settles into your chest like a drum, urging your heart to hammer at the uncertainty of Kylo��s admission. Making things right could mean anything. If you really wanted to know, you could ask him to clarify and satiate that selfish, irrational part of you that wants to scream at the sheer chance of them being back together after everything she—

“Are you—”

“No.” Kylo cuts off, his tone dark and definite as you flatten your lips in embarrassment. He eyes you with curiosity, eyebrows low on his face.

You flatten your lips, pinching and tugging at the little crystals lining your skirt. When you speak again, your voice is strained. “Right. Okay.”

He shifts in place, letting his knee collide with your thigh. You wince at the sensation, eyes widening when you catch the boyish smirk painting his lips.

“Why?” he questions, shining eyes betraying his flat tone.

You drop your gaze, inhaling slowly to calm the beating in your ears. Kylo watches you carefully, his steady breath mingling with yours.

“I just…” you begin, gaze flickering toward the mark your legs connect at. “I just don’t want you to make the same mistake twice.”

He huffs quietly, but you don’t let it go unnoticed. When you look at him again, his brow is quirked high. “Uh-huh.”

You frown, toying with your nailbeds as Kylo eyes you down. “I mean it.”

“Sure.”

You scoff, eyes rolling at your own, stupid curiosity and how easily Kylo managed to see right through you. “God, stop that.”

He shifts forward, resting against his elbows as he levels his gaze with yours. “You care.”

“I don’t,” you reply abruptly, wincing at your own whiney tone.

He extends a finger toward your leg, poking it gently. You shiver, but stay put. “You do.”

“I do not.”

“You so do.”

You scoff again, but there’s little bite behind it. Staying silent would mean admitting defeat, but it was the lesser evil compared to actually admitting the truth—admitting that yes, perhaps you do care and you’re way too stubborn to let him know that.

But a part of you thinks he already does. When you look at him, his gaze settles over your shoulders, flickering along the nude skin with knitted brows.

“You cold?”

“No,” you quickly deny, though the sharp goosebumps lining your arms barely help your already weak case.

Kylo huffs, shifting back to ease out of his jacket. “You’re a bad liar.”

“You need to stop giving me your clothes,” you quickly retort as his arms withdraw from the sleeves. He quirks a brow at you, smirking boyishly as he settles the jacket in his lap.

“Why?” he questions, trapping you with his teasing gaze as yours flickers between him and the jacket. As a particularly cold breeze swirls over your body, you finally capitulate with a groan.

You tug the jacket off his lap, swiftly tossing it over your back. The soft, cotton padding is warm with his body and fresh with his scent, enveloping you with a comfort you quietly appreciate.

As you shimmy deeper into the sensation, you catch Kylo eyeing you with glimmering, patient eyes. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he looks… prideful.

“Cause I might start thinking you actually tolerate me,” you finally mutter, subtly rubbing your cheek against the smooth, leather collar.

The man’s smile sinks slightly, eyes narrowing an inch when they finally settle on your face.

“I tolerate you,” he speaks, tone so low and serious you have to squeeze your thighs together.

Your gaze rises to meet his, his confession heavy on your chest. You mindlessly pivot your body toward him, leaning in just slightly.

“Then maybe you should say that more instead of throwing your shit at me.”

He chuckles calmly, placing his palm on his thigh just at the threshold of your knee. Despite the cautiousness, you periodically feel his digits ghosting over your thin stockings.

His head angles, and your breath snags. He’s close now, lashes resting low on his cheeks.

“It’s not my fault you look good in it.”

“Shut up,” you snap quietly, but your resolve crumbles under the unyielding weight of his gaze. Kylo snickers at you, plush lips parted as he moistens them.

You squeeze your core around nothing, cheeks tinted rouge as you watch his blown-out pupils scan your face for the key to his predicament.

His breath ghosts over your lips, warm and thick with tobacco. Your heart hammers in your chest, your ears, your panties. Your eyelids flutter shut.

You’re ready. You’re so desperately ready to throw caution into the winds of this beautiful, horrible March evening and—

He says your name.

Your eyes inch loose with the frailness of his vocals, eyebrows knitted in confusion.

His hand trails up your arm, elbow, and finally rests against your trembling shoulder. When his lips part, you hover over the precipice of devastation.

Kylo’s alert, looking at you with sympathy. And nothing more.

"Not like this."

Your stomach twists with liquor and loathing. You think you might hurl the way he holds you so tenderly yet keeps you at arms length, still smiling even as your eyes sting with confused tears.

Your jaw clenches, nostrils flaring with the tremble of your lip.

"Okay."

The moment shatters like glass, piercing your lungs and depriving you of even breath.

You exhale sharply, shaking your head before pulling his jacket tighter around yourself. For now, the leather feels more familiar than the flesh-and-bone.

He leans back, gaze flicking away toward the brownstones. You watch painstakingly as he shifts his thigh away from yours. And just like that, everything between you slips away into the night.

Silence stretches between you again, heavy and stagnant like grief over something that never happened.

Kylo runs a hand through his thick locks, exhaling through his nose before speaking lowly. You wonder if he’s cold. “You should go inside.”

You hesitate as your eyebrows furrow with simmering anger. It’s not fair, you think.

But ultimately, despite the feverish tightening of your trembling lip, you nod.

“Yeah.”

You awkwardly push yourself to your feet, careful to keep the jacket nestled onto your form. Your legs threaten to give in under the sudden weight in your chest and stomach, but you persevere. Somehow, you feel like Kylo wouldn’t save you this time around.

You breathe out, hesitating for a strained beat before glancing toward the man at your feet. “Are you?”

His gaze lifts to meet yours, eyes darker than ever before. There’s little to read in his expression, but despite the apathy, you’d have this over his meaningless, beautiful smile any day.

“Eventually.”

You nod once, lingering for half a breath longer than you should. Kylo’s jaw tightens and you hope he’ll speak. You hope he’ll part his lips and urge you to come back, explain, stay.

He nods at you haphazardly before turning back toward the road.

Your belly wrings, but wordlessly, you turn heel. The weight of his jacket presses against your skin like an embrace as you head back toward the apartment.

As the door slams shut behind you, you feel your rosy cheeks cool with stray tears as you utter a desperate sob into the twisting staircase.

The darkness cries back, echoing the culmination of your heart’s anguished psalm for a man who could never love you back.