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smallgirlbigpersonality · 3 years

Note

All the flip cuteness. 🥺

number 33 on the sfw prompts with flip would be so cute!!

1.5k, no warnings, just bickering married couple fluff!

It’s a gorgeous Spring day in your slice of paradise that is Colorado. The sun is shining, the sky a powdery blue, there’s a gentle breeze that makes all the tall grasses and wildflowers sway, and the birds chirp a melody that you can’t help but whistle along to. It’s one of Flip’s rare days off, an attempt by the CSPD trying to balance the amount of overtime he gets from his long cases, and he’s decided the day should be spent outdoors. You don’t blame him, he’s a mountain man after all, and he can only be cooped up inside his stuffy office for so long.

So you’re reading one of your books outside on a large picnic blanket in the backyard of your big house tucked away in the mountains, peeking up now and again as your husband steadies himself for a moment or two before firing at the target he’s set up way on the other side of the property. He fires, and you don’t even need to look to know he’s shot a bullseye. Clapping for him, because you know he likes to hear it, you can’t help but smile fondly.

Flip subtly sneaks a peek at you, trying his best to not look like he’s desperate for your praise and approval, but then he sees you stealing a sneak at him, and he lets out a deep rumbling chuckle that has you raising an eyebrow and asking, “What’s so funny?”

You set your book down when he shrugs one of his shoulders, a cheeky smirk tugging one of the corners of his mouth, making those dimples of his that you adore appear. He adjusts something on his rifle, fiddling with the new scope you got him for his birthday that just passed, and smiles to himself, shy and cocky at the same time, if such a thing were possible.

“It’s just strange to think that this is my life, that’s all.” He raises the scope back up to his eye, positions himself properly, and you both hold your breath for the moment that he fires, listening to the sound of the bullet whipping through the air and tearing through the target.

“Good strange? Or bad?” You ask when he puts the rifle back down, throws another one of his charming smiles your way.

“Good.” He nods, says it so stoic and deadpan that if you hadn’t been married to him for as long as you have, you’d think he’s being sarcastic. “Definitely good. Feels like a fuckin’ dream sometimes.”

He sets up the rifle again, carefully, stoic, and takes another shot. The breeze must have knocked that one a little off center, because Flip’s clicking his tongue against the roof of his mouth the way that he does when he’s annoyed by something.

“Example.” You smile, propping yourself up on your side, your head resting on your hand where your elbow is bent and set atop the plush blanket.

“Marrying you. No fucking clue why or how you said yes.” Flip’s decided it’s time for a cigarette break, or at least that’s what he tells himself when he walks with his bowlegs on over to you, setting the safety on the rifle and leaving it over in the grass where it can’t be an issue. “I remember practicing how to ask you out in the mirror. I never thought I’d get this far.”

“You were something of a nervous wreck back then, weren’t you?” You open your arms for him, a teasing playful wink crinkling the corner of your eye, “In your own special way.”

“Don’t bully me.” Flip immediately settles himself down on the big blanket next to you, lights up a cigarette and pulls you into his arms, sucking down the nicotine as fast as he can while you chuckle at him. He pinches your nose and gives your face a shake, mesmerized by the sound of your laugh. “I was young and you were the most beautiful fuckin’ woman I’d ever seen. Still are.”

Sunlight dapples through the leaves of the shady tree you’ve set the blanket down next to, and all Flip can do is stare at you. Sometimes it’s all he can ever do, too in love with you to come up with the words to say just how he feels. Thankfully, you only tug on his ear sweetly, and sigh out happily.

“I wanted you to let me wear your ring so damn bad, Flip, you don’t even know.” You chuckle to yourself, and he does, he knows now. Maybe not back then when he was stupid and oblivious, but now he knows.

“You’ve got one now.” Flip snatches your hand up and presses a kiss to the big diamond right there on your ring finger, the one he worked for so long and so hard to save up and buy you, not wanting to settle for anything less than the best.

“Damn right I do.” You grin, rolling away from him just far enough to lay on your back and look up at the fluffy white clouds that pass along the sky, off to who knows where. “I’m the one living the dream here. Handsome strong husband, beautiful house, money to burn, happy healthy kids? What more could a girl want?”

Flip joins you, the two of you lying side by side on the blanket, pointing up at clouds and announcing what you think they look like. He could lay here forever, Flip thinks to himself as he watches the way the clouds cover the sun now and again, watches as your face gets more illuminated and then less, you squinting against the rays of light with a big happy grin.

He dips down to kiss you, deeply for a moment, sighing against your tongue in his own happy lazy way, before he pushes himself away from you, and goes back to his spot on the grass where he picks up the gun and resumes his target practice. He’s got to keep his skills sharp, after all, especially with hunting season coming up.

“Bullseye.” He says aloud after hitting three more rounds of yet another perfect target, before turning around and putting his hand on his hip, “What, no applause?”

“You’re an idiot.” You laugh, before clapping and even giving him a whistle or two for his trouble, and he bites away his grin, clicking the safety back on his rifle and making a beeline straight for you.

“Oh yeah?” He scoffs, and now you’re up off the blanket and running away from him as your laughter is carried by the breeze, and he’s chasing you down towards the fields of wildflowers that sit on the outskirts of your property, “Take it back -- c’mere -- !”

“Phil! For fuck’s sake -- ah!” You laugh and laugh as he runs after you, letting out a little shout of surprise when he manages to wrap his arms around you and hoists you over his shoulder, your stomach swooping from being upside down. He really was a lumberjack, wasn’t he? You laugh and smack against his back, and he only smacks at your ass in response.

Flip does this sometimes, when he’s in a playful mood like this, he’ll just snatch you up and tote you around, parading you through the house. He didn’t do it so much when you were pregnant, because he was mostly too afraid of hurting the baby, but the babies have long been born now, and this mock-wrestling that you do together can resume, and Flip’s going to take every opportunity to do just that.

It’s a perfect day for it too, he figures, not too hot, not too cold, not rainy or too windy. He’ll keep you outside for as long as he can manage, because dammit the opportunity to see you out in the splendor of nature like this only comes around every so often. So you don’t complain too much when he wrinkles your dress, or accidentally kicks off one of your shoes that you’ll make him go find, because even when he’s scowling and his brow is furrowed in the way that it is, there’s a sparkle in his eye that you wouldn’t dare put out.

Back at the blanket, he dumps you onto it with a thud, and you swat at his thigh for the trouble, winded and so so so in love. He crowds your body against the trunk of the shady tree with his own, caging you between his arms, and you roll your eyes as your arms slink around his shoulders, lightly panting from all the running as you rub your nose against his own.

“You are one sharp shooter, Mr. Zimmerman.” You say teasingly, your lips ghosting over his.

“That’s better.” Satisfied for the moment, Flip indulges in the warmth of your sun-drenched body, kissing you beneath the big tree, and he figures he doesn’t mind all the time cooped up in the office if it means he gets days like these.

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Tagging some Flip lovin' friends! @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @steeevienicks @materialisthicc @hswritingrecs @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen @metsienmenninkainen @caillea @painttheskylineforme @holding-on-to-starwars @caitlin-was-here @icarusinthesea

#flip zimmerman #flip zimmerman x reader #adam driver fanfic

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smallgirlbigpersonality · 3 years

Text

Watch Dog

Mob!Kylo Ren x F!Reader

(Inspired by the most recent edition of Writer Wednesday hosted by the kind @autumnleaves1991-blog!)

2k, cw: pre-official relationship, very mild angst (mutual pining), possessive feelings; NSFW (voyeurism, exhibitionism, mutual masturbation, phone sex)

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He smokes his cigarette, in the car.

Plumes of grey spill out of the sliver of space that the cracked window gives way to, crisp cool night air keeping him sane, keeping him calm. It’s hard to remain calm when you’ve been threatened in the way that you have – but that’s why he’s there. He’s there, keeping guard per your family’s orders, and that means nothing and no one will harm you.

Still, each and every movement in the dark park he sits and hides in alerts him, alarms him. Kylo’s finger is poised on his gun, ready to unleash his pent up fury on those who would dare harm you. He has been out here, in this park, watching and waiting for nearly four hours now, and…nothing. That was good, he thinks, but deep down, a part of him wishes with a sick sort of hope that someone would happen, so he could show you. He wants you to know how deeply he cares for you, how strongly he loves you. He wants to kill and main and hurt those who would hurt you, he wants you to see it, see what he’s capable of.

So he smokes his cigarette, in the car.

And he waits.

It’s empty, a Wednesday night strangely quiet. Springtime usually meant that Manhattan couldn’t stop bustling with activity, but this is not the case tonight. The park is closed and it is quiet, and Kylo smokes. He’s got the car turned off, no radio or even the hum of the engine to keep him company. He knows some of the other guys can’t do stake-outs like this without a partner to chat away the hours with, but Kylo has no interest in sharing the vision of you with anyone else, so he is alone.

Alone and waiting, for something to happen. His car is parked on the curb across from the townhome safe-house where you’re staying. When the death threats came, your family immediately decided to move you to a more secure location, and they had chosen here. Kylo didn’t agree with it, and he still doesn’t – he isn’t so sure that you’d be safe anywhere other than his arms.

But that would require him to suck it the fuck up and tell you how he feels about you, and he’s not so sure he can do that, not right now, not yet. He’s twenty-five and in love with you, stupidly, painfully in love with you. He has been for twenty of those years, even before he really knew what love was. Your family was extremely close with his family, and he knew that it would be a union that the underground crime world would rejoice about…but he has no way of knowing whether you feel the same way about him.

If the syndicates were a monarchy, you would be the princess of the mob. Beautiful and powerful and ruthless and so sharp, a lie detector and expert interrogator by the time you had graduated high school. Grown men bowed their heads and kissed your ring when you passed, and Kylo? Well, he’s nothing more than muscle, brute blunt force and unhinged rage. He could never deserve you, would never be able to earn your gentle quick witted love.

Which is why he takes every opportunity to be close to you, why he always has, and why he always will. For if he is destined to do nothing other than protect you, he will protect you with every fiber of his being.

He protects you now, sitting in his car, watching, waiting.

It’s late enough that you should be asleep, so when his trained eye catches movement from your bedroom window, Kylo immediately tenses. Holding his breath, he stares out into the lamp-light illuminated street, hunting for danger, daring the threat to make itself known so he can blow their brains out on the pavement.

Your figure comes into view then, a silhouette behind your closed curtains as you turn on a small lamp of your own, your body backlit through the window. Kylo’s cheeks burn with shame the moment he realizes that you’re slipping off your nightgown; he knows he should look away, he needs to give you your privacy…but the contours of your body are intoxicating, mesmerizing. He can’t see much at all, not really, just the shape of you, your details obscured by the curtain, but he can see so much more than he ever imagined. The curve of your breasts, the slope of your back, the line of your arms as they raise up in a stretch that has your body twisting and turning in a way that has Kylo’s mouth watering.

He doesn’t even know that he’s tugging at the belt on his jeans until he’s got his hand shoved inside his briefs, pulling his cock out and hissing around the sudden friction, the cool night air on his exposed skin. Kylo doesn’t look down at himself, doesn’t dare take his eyes off of you as he watches you move around in the safe-house. From one window to the next you go, and Kylo can picture it clear as day in his mind, how beautiful you are, stark naked like this.

It’s creepy, he’s being a creep, he knows, but he can’t stop. He doesn’t want to stop, he loves you so much, it’s overwhelming, god he’s so fucking hard. He exhales sharply through his nose as his fist speeds up, because he thinks, god he hopes that he can see the silhouette of your hands rubbing up and down your chest, and his mouth waters as he pictures himself squeezing and groping you instead.

Suddenly – a loud ringing jolts him out of his daze, and he releases his hard cock like it’s a brand he’s just been burned with. Blinking and choking on his cigarette, he whips his head around for the danger, for the noise, only to see it’s coming from an old payphone next to his car. Pulse rabbiting in his throat, Kylo regards the payphone with confused apprehension. He didn’t know that those things still worked in the first place, let alone that they could receive calls.

Casting a glance to you, he wonders if it’s a trap. But then, then then then, he sees the shape of your body holding a phone up to your ear, and he wonders if…no it couldn’t be.

Could it?

He tucks himself away quickly, the phone is still ringing, the illuminated booth casting a bright glow through the foggy park. He takes the gun with him just in case, and practically squeezes himself into the phone booth, picking it up and silencing the ring.

“Do you like what you see?” Your voice is breathy on the other line, and Kylo has to brace himself, because you sound wrecked, you sound just as horny as he feels.

“I can’t see very much.” Kylo admits, and you chuckle. The sound is warm and spreads through Kylo’s body like wildfire, fills him to the brim with adoration, an obsessive sort of worship. He wants to hear you laugh again, he wants to hear everything.

“How about now?” You tease, coy and devilish, and Kylo frowns, turns back towards the window just in time to see you tug the curtains open.

“Put that away.” His throat goes dry at once as he hisses out the order that he knows he has no business giving, “Someone else might be looking.”

“You don’t want anyone to see me?” You’re grinning, he can tell by the tone of your voice.

With the curtains open like this, he can see the way the moonlight, the streetlamps, how it all reflects off your skin. He can see the peaks of your nipples as the cool air hits them, watches as they stiffen. Fuck he’s hard, he’s leaking in his jeans, cock straining against the fabric.

“No.” Kylo grits out between clenched teeth, a possessive dark curling sensation winding through his veins, makes him shake with want. He watches as your hand travels down down down between your legs, hears the crackle through the payphone as you sigh out a moan.

“Why not?” You already know the answer, you have to know the answer, but you want to egg him on anyway, want to get him riled up.

“Because – fuck, (Y/N), I – ” Kylo grunts and groans, cock throbbing and aching for you.

“Are you touching yourself?” You must not be able to see him too well, but the question sparks something horribly hopeful in his chest.

“Do you want me to?” He pants, a silent plea let me let me let me.

“Please Kylo, please, I want to hear you, don’t you want to hear me?” Your voice lowers a register and Kylo’s hand is shoving back into his jeans with lightning speed, his body stuffed inside the phone booth, the hard plastic receiver tucked between his cheek and his shoulder as he tugs and strokes at himself with this new permission.

“Fuck, fuck yes I do.” He whines, groans into the receiver as he trembles around himself, eyes trained on your window, watching as your hand moves faster and faster, trying to time it together.

Suddenly, you lower the phone to your pussy, and Kylo nearly smacks his head on the glass wall of the booth that he can barely fit inside when he hears the squelch of your cunt around your fingers. His vision starts to black out, creeping around the edges of his gaze, and he grunts and groans as he spits down onto his palm and imagines it’s your slick, imagines he could have you.

And then, like some mind reader, you whine and moan into the phone as you lift it back to your own ear, and ask him something that he’s only ever dreamed of you asking; “You’re mine, aren’t you?”

Your voice curls around his ear, fills the empty spaces between his ribs because he is he is he is, always and forever that’s all he wants to be, but he can’t say it, he can’t get the words out because he knows that once they’re spoken he can never take them back to nurse his pride should you reject him.

“Oh shit, shit (Y/N) I’m going to come.” He groans instead, and you let out a moan at the thought, and then he is coming all over his fist, sticky white ropes splattering onto his stomach.

He feels electric, he feels insane, the way his bones rattle and his nerves spark in that little fucking phone booth that he sullies and dirties with his sweat and spit and come, fuck there’s so much come everywhere – are you coming?

Blinking through the sweat from his effort, Kylo strains to look at you through the window once again, your perfect body on display. No one is around to see, thank fuck, no one is looking at you. Kylo would kill them all, if they were.

He must have missed you coming, because your hands are away from your body, pulling the curtains closed once more.

“Will you be here all night?” You breathe, panting into the phone.

“As long as you need me.” Kylo replies before you’re even finished asking him, and you chuckle.

“Don’t say that.”

“Why not?”

“Because I’m never going to stop needing you.” You admit, and the admission blooms hope in his chest once again. Maybe maybe maybe, maybe you love him too. He can barely fathom the thought, his mouth runs dry like the come that begins to crust up on his shirt.

“That’s fine by me.” Kylo rushes to say, and you chuckle again, post-orgasmic bliss warm in your voice.

“It is?” You have hope in your throat too, and Kylo nods, wondering if you can see the movement.

He knows he’ll go back to his car and sit and wait and watch for danger that may or may not come, when he hangs up the phone. He knows he’ll clean himself off and change his clothes and in the morning he’ll take you to breakfast and he’ll ask you what you mean, what exactly you mean.

But for now, it’s enough to hear your soft laughter and watch your silhouetted body move back to the bedroom. It’s enough to know that you believe him when he nods his head, when he tucks himself away, when you declare with all the sincerity that he can muster, offering his loyalty to you in as many ways as he can, when his deep voice rumbles and promises in that little phone booth, “I’m your watch dog.”

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Taggin' some Kylo loving friends :) @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @rennasiance-mama @steeevienicks @mousemakingjam @the-unmanaged-mischief @materialisthicc @slut-for-harri @littleevilme13 @erys-targaryen @leillaa @lovinghufflepuffgirl @hswritingrecs @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @schopenhauerdeathsquad @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @cowgirl1234 @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen

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smallgirlbigpersonality · 3 years

Note

Will you use these prompts for Flip please?

Kissing in the rain and getting soaked before running inside laughing

Lifting the other person up and hugging them and twirling them around.

Thank you for all the Sinday goodness!

Anonymous said: Basket and nature from the April prompts for Flip please 💛. Maybe for some sexy outdoor picnic or stargazing smut please? I love the hand holding while making love prompt too.

(1k, Young Flip x Darling Jewish Girlfriend, NSFW (public shenanigans/park groping/fingering)

I never caught stardust that fell from the skies.

I never saw moonlight in anyone's eyes,

Then suddenly love kicks in the window,

Love, knocks down the door.

Love, it sat down and told me,

Lover, what are you waiting for?

It had been a beautiful day, sunny and bright, Spring in the air. The trees are green and rustling in the light breeze, flowers bloom, and Flip’s in love. He’s so in love with you that it makes him sick, and he wants to scream it to the world. He won’t, he’s too quiet to go doing all that – but he’ll do the next best thing; show you off on his arm for all the world to see.

There’s a park not too far from the little home in the suburbs where you live, the small starter cookie cutter home he bought once you graduated from school. It’s not much, just a one bedroom, on a corner lot in the neighborhood where you grew up. One day he’s going to buy you a big house in the mountains, with enough rooms for as many kids as you want, with as much land as he can manage for them to run around on.

But it does have a little park that’s just a few blocks away, and on this beautiful Spring day, he’s practically begging to take you on a stroll there, begging you to hold his hand with the silent bumps he makes as he knocks his knuckles against yours. You get the hint, because dammit you love him desperately, and you never want to untwine your fingers from his, not even when your palms grow clammy.

Hand in hand you walk with your boyfriend through the neighborhood, a picnic basket slung on your free arm, filled to the brim with sandwiches and treats you’ve spent all morning putting together. Flip beams, or well, as much as Flip can beam, he beams. He’s got one corner of his mouth around his cigarette ticked up in a smirk as he swings your hand back and forth, the two of you stepping in time, left foot right foot – until he playfully steps on your heel to make you stumble a little just so he can catch you, earning him a teasing swat against his arm as you sprint into a run with bright laughter, leaving him in the dust.

I never heard bluebirds, the songs that they sing.

I never get crazy, not even in Spring.

Then suddenly love struck me like lightning!

Love, it blew up a storm!

Love, suddenly grabbed me, and ooh, was it cozy and warm.

'Cause I found you, now I no longer just exist,

Ooh, what a change, it started from the time we kissed.

He tackles you when he gets his arms around you, knocking you to the ground with a playful yelp, tickling all over your ribcage and kissing you deeply, his cigarette pinched between your fingers as he sighs against your mouth. The other park-goers just shake their head fondly, the whole neighborhood knowing all about your little love story. The elderly folks feeding their birds on the park benches are a little more exasperated, but they know that Zimmerman is a good egg, and that girl of his loves him and how could anyone blame them for being a little too loud about it?

Flip leads you to a nice shady spot, sets the picnic up while you watch him do all the work. Occasionally you direct him where you want him, pointing where he should put the potato salad and oh there would be a good spot for the sparkling water.

He huffs and says if you’re going to be so picky you can unpack the basket yourself, but he says it with a twinkle in his eye, and then you’re kissing him, sweetly like the bluebirds that chirp in the trees, your lashes brushing against his cheek, his goatee scratching your chin, the two of you far too wrapped up in one another to notice the clouds start to form overhead.

Blue skies hide behind big pillowing blankets of grey, and the temperature starts to drop, but neither of you notice. Flip backs you up against a tree and the leaves protect you from the rain droplets that begin to plip-plop onto the grassy park around you. Everyone begins to clear out, because they have the sense of it all to get out of there before it pours, but you and Flip just kiss and kiss and kiss until you’re gasping against one another’s mouths.

(And now we hear bluebirds), they hear bluebirds,

(We're learning that tune) they like that tune,

(And even use moonlight) all that pretty moonlight

Flip’s hands work quickly, not even bothering to look around and see who might be around. He’s got to touch you, got to get his big hands on your skin, so that’s just what he does. Kissing you and moaning into your mouth, he pushes you flush against the tree trunk and you go happily, your arms winding around his shoulders, letting the breadth of his body cover you and shield you from view.

No one is in the park now, it’s dead empty as the clouds open up and rain cascades down in a sheet all of a sudden, smacking hard against the rain. Flip pays it no mind, you’re both safe and dry there by the big oak tree, and he slips his hand past the cloth of your panties and shoves his fingers up into your cunt, making you gasp and moan against his mouth, body tensing from the pleasure as he strokes your walls, pushes and rubs against your folds, his thumb on your clit.

He’s drunk off the feeling of you, off the way he’s breathing in your panting moans, his head going dizzy and and his breath coming in harsher. You’ve still got one of his hands clasped in yours, a death grip you refuse to give up anytime soon, and it makes his heart pound pound pound in his chest. He’s rock hard in his jeans, and he wonders if he could get away with fucking you out here in the open – before lightning strikes a little too close to where you are, and you both snap to reality.

“Oh shit!” You gasp, rushing out into the rain to try and salvage the picnic, not wanting the food to get soggy and ruined.

Flip races out into the rain with you, and helps quickly put everything back into the wicker basket, embarrassment making him blush blush blush – before the two of you start laughing, and he scoops you up in his arms and twirls you around and around in the rain, water soaking through your clothing.

You dance with him to the sound of music that isn’t playing, or at least out in the open it isn’t. In your heads you and your Flip are at a grand swing hall, and he spins you until you both fall down onto the waterlogged grass of the park, belly aching from how filled with joy you both are.

“We gotta get home!” He shouts at you over the sound of the rain crashing onto the pavement, and then without another thought, you’re grabbing his hand and the picnic basket and running down the sidewalk to that little starter home on the corner lot.

And he goes along, stupid in love, knowing that he’s going to marry you the second he can work up the damn nerve. Because if every day can be like this, if every Spring would start this way, then he finds he doesn’t care at all about splashing in puddles.

(Around about you) Hotdog, them love, it fell outta heaven,

Love, it gave me a shove,

(Ding dong Ding)

I'm a-hearing those

(Church bells ring)

'Cause suddenly

(Love, love, love, love, love.)

Love, love!

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Taggin’ some Flip lovin’ friends! @mochabucky @sacklerscumrag @artsymaddie @bitchydecisions @direnightshade @reyloaddict55 @thembohux @kylorenswhxre @sunflowersinthesnow @babayagakeanu @safarigirlsp @rennasiance-mama @steeevienicks @the-unmanaged-mischief @materialisthicc @hswritingrecs @miabelay11 @han68000 @rosi3ba3z @chapterhappygirl @loverofallthings @groovetoob @bxnnywriting @glassbxttless @angel-bxby3 @smallgirlbigpersonality @cowgirl1234 @lovelyyy-luna @2000andwhat @raddo1975 @cornmousequeen

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smallgirlbigpersonality · 4 years

Text

She’s done it again! :) Babbushka’s au’s are absolutely amazing! Please check out her work. <3

Biting Dust - Ch. 1

Life ain’t too easy for a woman, ‘specially not a woman on the run like you. With a bounty on your head and gunpowder in your nose, you’ve grown adjusted to a life of solitude away from the hustle and bustle of civilization. That is, until you meet one particular man who’s got a face you’d only ever seen in your dreams – or on wanted posters. And when he offers you a proposition that sounds too good to be true, well. You don’t think your life will ever be the same again…

Outlaw!Kylo Ren x Reader

Tumblr Masterlist | Available on AO3

5.5k ; Warnings: Mentions of murder, hanging, arson.

—————–

You wonder, sometimes. Wonder how it all turned out like this, how this was the life you now led. You wonder if you could go back and do anything over, if you’d do anything different. Sometimes you don’t do so much wondering, there ain’t the time when you’re on the run with sheriffs at your back; but times like this, with nothing but the uncharted desert sprawling out in front of you, all you could do was wonder.

Something wisps up into your eyes and you cringe as you scrub it out – sand, stinging and coarse. Nothing but sand, as far as the eye could see. You really fucking hate sand, you think, as the rising sun carries on up into the sky, bringing with it a gentle enough breeze that makes your horse, Agnes, toss her mane in delight. She whinnies softly, and you pet the back of her neck as she does, trudging through the sand after a long night of riding, a long night straight through the desert.

“Almost there,” You reassure her, “Shouldn’t be too much farther now.”

You’d robbed a bank the day before, and damn it all that had proven to be a poor enough decision. Ain’t no money in the bank, nothing at all, nothing but a whole group of cowardly men who were quick to whistle for the dogs that went bitin’ at your ankles.

They paid for that offense against you, had paid with their lives.

If only they had had any money for you to take with you, as you sped off into the night, not daring to stop until you had put enough distance between you and the men with steel.

Now, you don’t even have robbing on your mind. No, you think as Agnes chuffs and complains about the tiredness in her hooves, you’d settle for something as simple as a cool and dry bed, a hot bath, maybe enough time to clean your clothes and have a bite to eat before you’re off again.

A bed, bath, and crust of bread which you were looking forward to in the next town over. Robbing that bank hadn’t been entirely useless after-all, you use the morning sunlight to figure out this chicken-scratch cartography off the map you’d quickly grabbed before dashing out of the blazing bank, flames engulfing everyone and everything inside it as you make your escape.

“If we did this right, we should be there before the sun comes up over the canyons.” You tell her.

She only chuffs again, and you know that she too will be looking forward to a soak in a lake somewhere to wash the blood off her hide.

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#adam driver #kyloren #kylo ren #western au #knights of ren

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