dewitthedges-blog

[mrsmaxwelllord]

I am in desperate need of help.

I've been looking for an Armitage Hux x Reader fic I read years ago on AO3, but I can't find it anymore.

The fic is basically about an arranged marriage between Hux and Reader in which there is an attempt to murder her (it is implied that it was Hux's own doing) but she survives and starts living with him after that. At first they don't get along at all, but they become unlikely allies over time.

I remember a part where she tells him that for them to trust each other he would have to "allow her to have some kind of power. Not power over him, but power with him." It was all about power imbalance and the reader trying to gain her own power/significance, how to play in the society she was forced to live with Hux.

I'm pretty sure this fic was already finished but I really don't remember more how it ends.

Anyway, if any of you know what I'm talking about PLEASE tell me the title or the author. It was probably deleted by the author, because it simply disappeared from my subscriptions page but i really loved it and wanted to read it again if possible.

[starlightsearches]

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

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

Thank you so much and congrats again!!

Drunk / In Love

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

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

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

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

Phasma said you were drunk.

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

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

Although this might be too familiar.

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

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

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

Then your lips meet his. 

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

But nothing like this.

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

He really, really wants to.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your enthusiasm at the suggestion turns his stomach into knots.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

 “Armitage?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“No,” you tell him, “no you’re not.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’ll ruin your dress.” 

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

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

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

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

“One kiss,” you concede, “okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

“Help me.”

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

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

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

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

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

[flydinom]

Old Gingerpilot Art of mine because there's never enough (and too little) Gingerpilot. Click on the image for better quality

My beloved disasters <3

[moonlightshaiku]

Kissing Hux

In everything Hux does he goes for the jugular, and kissing is no different.

He loves giving special attention to your neck, so much so, that you have to be on guard lest anything is left in his wake.

He's less sweet and more "begrudgingly and tiredly affectionate", so anything that's sweet and/or soft is probably prior to caf or in the name of comfort.

He usually kisses close-mouthed. Biting occasionally, but he'll never use his tongue unless his partner initiates.

He'll hold on to your face or shoulders in a stern grip, pressing his body to yours. Hux runs rather cold, but due to his uniform layers, is warm to the touch. His neck is always warm and ruddy, hands cold and pale.

As soon as Hux steps out of the shuttle, hair mussed, he's in front of you. It's night, and the hangar is relatively empty, so he gathers your face in his hands.

Kylo climbs out of the shuttle behind him, ragged and dirt-covered, mask off. He rolls his eyes, boots clicking on the ground as he steps away from you both, giving you privacy.

As soon as Kylo is out of sight, Hux breathes. "Maker." He presses a kiss to your jaw, then to the corner of your lips.

You interrupt the inevitable, "I missed you," with your lips, and he reciprocates eagerly. He pulls himself closer to you as you kiss, he smells like sweat and his cologne. He's a bit too warm, you wonder why.

Once he's pressed firmly to you, he grabs your hair, pulling your head back slowly. He presses a kiss to your neck over your uniform, breath hot on the underside of your chin.

[symphonyofthieves]

This was my gift for @darthastris, in the May the 4th be with you exchange ✨🌌☺️.

I hope you like it and that you are having a great Star Wars day! I will give you the coloured version as soon as possible 🥰.

May the for e with you, my friend! 🌈💫

[queen-of-elves]

Getting caught cuddling with General Hux and taking the blame saying you were the one being clingy but really it was him lol the man is like a needy cat and the purring (smooching noises) gave you away

you can honestly go in any direction you want with this. i just thought it'd be a fun lil idea to base off

Getting caught

A/ N: I LOVE THIS IDEA SO MUCH THANK YOOU!! I am telling you Hux is always going to be this soft and touch starved man that I adore plus I am in my Hux era obsession so this request was soooo sooooooo perfect

A/N 2.0: I also made it so that their relationship was not official yet hopefully that’s no problem

Word count: over 1.8K

Warning: affection?? Lol and cursing as always, also not proofread

*********

General Armitage Hux was a man of strict discipline and undeniable loyalty to the First Order, you have admired these qualities of his since the first day you had the luck to be under his command. There was just something so interesting about him which exceeded even beyond him becoming one of the youngest generals in the First Order history. So it made you a one lucky individual when he set his eyes on you.

You really hoped his secretive glances were interpreted by others as an angry stare at a subordinate or just his regular cold and stern glare because today was awfully full of these glances. It was a miracle that no one has yet figured out this weird arrangement between the two of you. No, you were not dating, at least none of you verbally stated it. But by the time the two of you had already made out in a random maintenance room or closet for the second time that week it was obvious. Something was cooking between the two of you and obviously keeping it secret as much as was humanly possible was an unsaid rule.

It would be a lie to say you knew exactly how it all started. You just knew that one thing led to another and you and the handsome general Hux ended up passionately kissing in one of the empty corridors of the Finalizer. But this all is a tale for another day.

This time it wouldn’t be any different, you were following the commanding officer throughout the left part of the flagship’s corridor and discussing the next plans after the last mission. Nothing out of ordinary, just a normal conversation in the middle of the day, you were afterall one of the main strategists on the flagship in the command of Armitage Hux so it was expected of you to have frequent interactions with him. However, today felt very different to you, if you didn’t count the stares throughout the day, Armitage was still acting jittery and unconcentrated which was highly unlike him. 

Did something happen?

You couldn’t help but feel concern for the wellbeing of your general. In fact you were so lost in your thoughts over it, you haven’t even realized that you have just confirmed a false statement about one of the missions from last week. And then it happened again and again, discussion containing false information soon turned into one about even nonexistent missions planned for the next few days. A confusion slowly crept on your face, did you prepare data for the wrong missions? 

What is he talking about?

And then it hit you. He was furiously looking behind you, checking the corridor before spinning on his heel and glancing down the other side of the hall. You two were the only one or so it seemed since you couldn’t hear any steps or talking except for Hux who was still going on about the fake mission. When his inspection of the hall was done and he seemed fairly satisfied, snatching your hand and dragging you to the door of what you deemed to be some sort of maintenance room was the next step in his plan. 

So before you could react properly he smashed the lock on the side of the door causing the door to open widely and pushed you in. You had no time to even recognize what the room actually contained before the door closed behind the both of you, plugging you into a darkness. It took a bit for your eyes to adjust and it also got worse when he placed his hands on your shoulders, spinning you around to face him. You couldn’t make out any specific details of his face but he still looked so handsome to you. 

Armitage truly was a being above all in your eyes, handsome, disciplined and incredibly smart, too smart for his own good sometimes and this man, this stupidly handsome man was now kissing you. His hands rested on your cheeks and lips on yours and you felt once again as in ecstasy, just like you were drug to him, he was to you.

He slowly backed you to the nearest wall until your back hit it and then it all really started. His kisses went across your whole face, starting at a temple on one side, stopping momentarily to kiss you furiously and ending at the jaw across before he gave himself the time to properly breathe. This was what you loved about kissing with him, how out of breath he would get, it was as if he couldn’t get enough of you and it made you feel eternal.

There was nothing explicitly sexual about this, nothing beyond simple makeout, no great sinful desire at least this time. And if there was anything in it, it was all about comfort, the comfort you brought to him and you could feel it radiate from him. He needed the comfort you provided, that only you could provide.

This time he nudged his face into the croak of your neck and inhaled slowly while squeezing you in a tight hug as if he was afraid you would turn into mist and disappear from his arms.

With Hux it wasn’t just about the kissing, the cuddling was also very prominent and you were pretty sure oftentimes Armitage enjoyed the cuddling much more than he would ever admit. At this point in his life this man was just beyond touch starved and if he would let you, you would give him hugs any time he wanted. It made you so happy to see him smile after every quick kiss or just slight touch of hands that got unnoticed by others. You truly loved making him happy and it felt like he was on the same note with you. 

Armitage was also decently vocal, actually he was the most vocal guy you have ever been with, you noticed it the first time the two of you made out in his office. The little moans that escaped his mouth and oh my, you would be a goddamn liar if you said you didn’t enjoy every second of the sound he would make. Whenever it was caused by you hugging him or kissing the hell out of him.

His mouth felt like it was everywhere, that HE was everywhere and you couldn’t get enough of it. Armitage’s hand moved from your shoulder to your hip while the other sneaked on the small of your back, gripping the hip and bringing you again so close you could hardly breathe. Both of your chests were now touching but even without his mouth touching you, you felt the excitement accumulating between your bodies. 

You have now noticed his vibrant red hair all out of place, you quite liked the disheveled look on him, and the buttons of his uniform sat loose, he must have unfasten some of them while he dragged you to this room and in between the kisses. But instead of kissing you again he nuzzled his face into your neck again while humming slowly. He was contend, purring like a cat onto your neck and chest. You hope for this moment to never end, to just simply cuddle him until you die.

However, the whole moment shattered with the heavy door sliding open with a long whoosh sound. The both of you stood frozen for agonizingly long, hoping whoever opened the door would either not notice you, which was very unlikely considering you were an eyesore in the now lit room, or pretend to not notice you. In those excruciatingly drawn-out seconds you have noticed a blush creeping on Armitage's face but even that image ripped out of your mind by a stammering voice of a much more embarrassed officer.

“I-I am so sor-rry, SIR. I d-din’t know that- I heard a we-weird sound and I thought-” Oh god, the two of you must have been really loud if they could hear you through the door. And on top of that you were pretty sure that officer wouldn’t keep his tongue behind their teeth after what they saw.

“Get OUT!” Armitage's voice echoed through the room silencing the officer. 

You couldn’t see his face, his silhouette was illuminated by the hall's light still present in the room after the officer just ran for his life, leaving the door open. And there was a certainty the officer wouldn’t escape the punishment Armitage was already making in that smart head of his.

When he finally turned to you, you could see his face seeping red, the tips of his ears caressed with blush just like his cheeks and neck. He wasn’t looking at you, instead his wide eyes rested a few meters before your feet on the metal floor. Half of his face was obscured by his left hand which was holding his mouth in a tight grip. If it weren’t for the blush you would have thought he was contemplating his life choices or maybe he really was and maybe this was it. You knew Armitage was a man of a great reputation and to taint it with a flirt with one of his subordinates was unforgivable.

“I hoped it wouldn’t get out so soon.” A stoic mask was placed again on his face, the one he sported when he commanded on the bridge, when he was back in his role, unforgiving and with no mercy for failure. You did enjoy seeing him like that, full of pride and in his element but you also enjoyed how he would hold your hand while kissing your cheeks softly. The duality of this man surely would be the death of you one day and maybe this was the day.

“It seems it’s official then-” Your voice interrupted him.“What’s official?” Your heart was pounding so hard against your rib cage you were afraid it might leave bruises, you were too nervous to care for formalities now. This could be either exciting news or a soul crushing one.

“Us, obviously.” He stated, while he still hasn't noticed your nervous expression and your eyes following his every move before the realization came crashing down on you.

Oh.

This time you could hear the heavy steps, it obviously wasn’t an officer, probably a stormtrooper but you still didn’t expect Phasma, the stormtrooper captain, to appear in the still open door, her stare unrecognized by you thanks to her helmet, causing Armitage to turn his back on you again.

“Captain Phasma, I apologize it’s my fault I-” This time it was your general interrupting you.

“Yes, your choice of location to inform me of classified information is-,” Armitage turned back to you, shooting you an unidentifiable look,“ maybe next time choose my office. People could get the wrong idea, officer.” It seemed to be the end of the conversation or at least Phasma deemed it as one since she turned ready to leave while informing general Hux of new details about her mission. However, before both of them could exit the room you caught Armitage shooting you a smirk.

“Yes, sir.” You whispered with a small smile painted on your lips.

Oh god, that man was truly going to be the death of you.

[charlottesbookclub]

hiii ! 😘 💐 🥂 for hux? if that’s too many you can just pick one no worries !!! i love love love your work <33

send me a headcanon request 🥰

hello my dear! ☺️ no worries at all – that's definitely not too many! in fact I'm very excited to do them! ☺️💕 and thank you so so so much for your super sweet words! 🥰🥰 I genuinely am so touched that you enjoy my work that much! 🥹🥹🥰🥰 I hope you enjoy these headcanons as well! ☺️💖

putting them below the cut because they got long (whoops!), but under the "read more" are:

what would they look for in an s/o?

would they give their s/o gifts? if so, what kind?

what are dates with them like?

for Armitage Hux!

General Armitage Hux

😘 – what would they look for in an s/o?

I think Hux would look for two conflicting things in an s/o: ambition/drive and the ability to relax and not take things too seriously. on one hand, I think he does really need someone who can match his energy. his whole life is about working in dogged pursuit of his goals, and I think he would find it hard to relate to someone who didn't share that sense of drive, at least to some extent. I don't think they would have to be in the same field as him (in fact, it's probably better if they're not so that no competition emerges), but I do think that Hux would look for someone who takes their goals seriously and has a lot of passion for their work

on the other hand, I think he also needs someone to temper that impulse in him. everyone around him expects something of him, and his work is constantly under scrutiny. it would be nice for him to have someone who he didn't have to perform around, someone who would encourage him to take a breath and just be for a moment. so I guess what he really needs is someone with perspective; someone who can appreciate and empathize with his ambition, but also remind him that there's more to life than constant work

💐 – would they give their s/o gifts? if so, what kind?

again, I think Hux would be of two minds in this regard. on the one hand, he grew up in the imperial remnant where supplies were hard to come by, and I think that instilled in him a sense of austerity and distaste for clutter and wastefulness. in that sense, he certainly wouldn't be giving "useless" gifts, like things that would just sit and collect dust. even for sentimental things, I think it would be hard for him to overcome that idea that everything needs to have a functional purpose. he might make a couple of exceptions for really meaningful things though

on the other hand..... whooooo boy does this man have self-esteem issues! he finds it so hard to believe that anyone would be with him just to be with him. he projects this ultra-confident facade, but inside he is so insecure. one way for him to make up for that would be by giving his s/o things that he thinks might make it "worth it" for them to be with him. they're still mostly functional (often expensive) things, but he does put care and thought into selecting them. as the relationship progressed and his s/o was able to convince him that they weren't with him as some sort of transactional exchange, I could see him getting more comfortable giving more sentimental, meaningful gifts. even once he got past that insecurity, expressing his feelings verbally is still hard for him, so giving gifts is a nice way for him to show his affection without having to be too vulnerable

🥂 – what are dates with them like?

first, they are few and far between 😅 at least if we're talking in terms of "formal dates." Hux is a busy man and he just doesn't have a lot of time for things like dates, even if he would like to. however, "informal" dates, like having a quick meal together in the privacy of his quarters or just working together in a private space, are much more frequent. Hux definitely feels guilty about not having more time to spend with his s/o, so when he makes the time for a formal date, he goes all out

they usually happen planetside, since first order ships don't exactly scream "romance" lmao. Hux will book an expensive restaurant and reserve a speciality table (usually on a balcony or by a window looking out over the planet). afterwards, he'll have gotten tickets to some kind of fancy entertainment (whatever that particular planet specializes in, usually something adjacent to opera or theatre or ballet). then the night will end in a suite at the nicest hotel the planet has to offer, and both Hux and his s/o can enjoy a night away from the pressures of the first order

if his s/o is the kind of person who prefers "quirky" dates (like whatever the star wars equivalent of going to a farmer's market or playing mini golf is), he might be able to get on board with it, just because his s/o enjoys it. however, those kinds of more free-form, sometimes silly outings are much more foreign to him, and he's a lot more comfortable in more "formal" dates. however, no matter what he does with his s/o, he always tries to make it a time to show them how much he love and appreciates them 💖

[noiriarti]

Inappropriate: Armitage Hux x Reader - Ch. 4

NSFW!!!

TW: mentions of Brendol Hux being abusive, nsfw

Summary: Hux has to travel to Starkiller Base to check on construction. His favorite lieutenant comes with him, but these horrible, terribly inappropriate thoughts just won't stop.

Ch. 1, Ch. 2, Ch. 3, [Ch. 4]

The Academy didn't exactly leave its graduates romantically well-adjusted, and Armitage was no exception. As he stormed into his room, his heart pounding, partially with fear for his career and partially with adrenaline from your encounter, he closed his door and immediately felt the guilt wash over him. Saying that to you felt terrible, and the look in your eyes when he pulled away nearly shattered him right there. It took all his resolve to protect your careers.

He wondered if he had made a wrong decision. Cora had married someone as an officer, after all. A small part of him whispered that one of you could just retire, and then it wouldn't be anyone's business what you did--Order or not. And, if something did happen, it wasn't exactly nonconsensual like it was with Kelein. Maybe he could even get away with an honorable discharge.

He had thought about it before, if he could build a life with you. He looked into it, considered all the practicalities. But he never acted on anything, because it would have been ridiculous to think you felt the same way about him. After tonight, though, Armitage thought maybe you felt the same way about him. Just maybe. 

Armitage weighed the probability in his mind as he got out of his uniform, meticulously folding each piece as he took it off. Around the time he had slipped on his sleep shirt and sleep pants, he had decided that there was a greater than 50% chance you liked him, at least a little bit, and that there was some merit in talking to you about it. He brushed through his hair and broke up the gel, leaving his bangs soft over his forehead. Either way, his words to you were far too harsh. You hadn't done anything wrong. You were just sitting there, and it was him that touched you. Fuck, now that he thought about it, he had initiated all the contact, except the leg thing. He was the creepy one leering on your lips and touching them like some pervert.

There was a decanter of whiskey on the desk, just as he had requested, and he poured himself a double with shaking hands. What had he done?

He gulped the whiskey down as fast as he could. The warmth in his throat didn't burn him, though, it just reminded him of your legs touching earlier and the warmth it had filled him with. He leaned over with his head in his hands, panic gripping him. FUCK, what have I done?

Armitage was halfway through pouring himself another drink to build up his courage when he heard a whimper through the wall. Oh fuck, were you crying? He froze. You shared a wall, so he pressed his ear to it. His heart stopped and his throat got tight at the mental image of you sobbing. He had only seen you cry once, when an Academy student died on a mission. You were both so much younger then, but he still felt himself drawn to stand by you and put his arm on your shoulder. He couldn't stand to see you cry again.

A moment later, he heard another small noise. A deep intake of breath. You were definitely crying. Hard, by the sound of it.

He could barely hold himself together as he put on a sweater and slippers, shoving his feet into them hurriedly. He had to fix this. NOW. His hands shook as he set the glass down.

It's all my fault it's all my fault it's all my faultit'sallmyfaultit'sallmyfault, his mind echoed as he slammed his door open and rushed to yours. Your cries were louder now, and his chest was tight with guilt.

Fuck protocol. Fuck rules. Fuck Kelein. Fuck the Order. All that mattered was you feeling better. Him making it right. He wanted to make it right for the rest of his life, if you asked him. He would do fucking anything for you, and he knew that now. He would take the firing squad, if it would stop you from crying because of him.

He reached your door and knocked on it hurriedly, calling your name, propriety be damned. No answer. 

Fuck it. He opened the door.

There, on the bed, he saw you splayed out, fingers buried inside you. Your other hand was gripping your breast, but he barely noticed. His attention was entirely on your face and your moans. You looked positively fucking angelic with your hair splayed messily around you, and the sweat beading on your brow. He heard you make a little *oh!* sound, face scrunched together, as you finally came. Hard.

Your back arched off the bed, pushing your breasts into the air. His eyes were glued to your pussy now, watching it twitch around your fingers. From the moment he saw you, his cock was harder than a fucking diamond, but it started twitching when you came. Stars, he needed you. Needed to be inside you.

It was only a split second, but it was enough for him to memorize everything. And to process that he should probably go. His cheeks and chest grew hot and feverish, blush spreading all over his upper body.

"HolyfuckIamsosorry!" he blurted before he ran out of the room. He closed the door behind him and walked, lightheaded and unsteady, back to his own room. As he closed the door behind him, he realized he had fucked up. Majorly. This was an HR report waiting to happen. But he couldn't stop his cock from twitching, or his mind from seeing that image of you, cumming hard in front of him.

Usually, masturbating was just taking care of a need for him. He would wake up hard, or, worse, come back to his quarters hard after one of your meetings, and take care of himself full of shame. Your sweet voice haunted those moments, saying "Affirmative, sir" or "Good shot, sir" with those perfect lips.

This was different. He was harder than he had been in any of those moments. His cock ached in his pants, begging to be taken out and touched. He rolled his hips subconsciously, feeling his head rub across the material of his pants. He wanted more. He needed more. He palmed his cock as he moved to his bed, falling onto it roughly. The material of his sleep pants was already getting sticky at the point where the tip of his cock leaked precum. For a moment, he was scared he was going to cum as soon as he wrapped a hand around his length. He had to make this last.

He smeared the precum over his hand as he pulled his pants down, setting a slow pace to keep himself going. Fantasies weren't new to him, and it wasn't like he'd never imagined you naked before. But now, he didn't have to imagine. He had your perfect body snapshotted in his mind forever. Would your pussy twitch the same way if he made you cum on his cock? Would you make that noise if he bent you over some stupid machine on the bridge? He'd give anything to make you shake while he buried his face between your legs, making you cum over and over and over until you begged him to stop.

Fuck, it was too much. He sped up, setting a brutal pace, like he imagined he would with you. The head of his cock was a dark red, sensitive and ready to cum. He grunted as his thumb rubbed over his slit, sending the tingling feeling that had started in his legs all over his body. It had never felt like this before, when he was alone in his quarters.

Then a knock came a his door. It was probably the pilot, telling him the updated ETA. He internally cursed fate, timing, and just life in general as he pulled up his sleep pants. A rather obvious tent was still visible, and he tried to shift it to make it smaller as he moved toward the door.

"Yes?" He swung the door open. It was you.

"Gene--Armitage. Can I come in? I'd like to talk to you," you said, wringing your hands like he knew you did when you were uncomfortable. He was still a little pink from his encounter with you, but he definitely flushed a deeper shade when he saw your cheeks still rosy, and your pupils still blown wide.

"Yes, er--sure," he answered. He gestured for you to enter, and, while you passed through the doorframe, pulled his shirt down as far as he could to try and disguise his obvious arousal. You breathed in raggedly and turned to face him once he closed the door behind you. An awkward silence sat between the two of you.

"I-" you both began in sync. You giggled awkwardly, which in turn made him chuckle.

"Please, go ahead," he said.

"No, please, you go first," you responded. He took a deep breath and began. He got the sense that what he said, and the way he said it, was perhaps the most important choice he had ever made.

"Alright. I came to see you because I wanted to apologize. For earlier. I was harsh to you, unnecessarily so. I most likely made you uncomfortable earlier, with the, well, I suppose, advances I made. I am deeply sorry for that. It also wasn't my intent to to walk in on--to see you in such an... intimate moment. I am truly, very sorry," he said. It took you several seconds to respond--4 and a half, not that he was counting--and his heart was in his throat for every single one of them. 

"About you seeing... what you saw. I should be the one who's sorry. I shouldn't have been doing that on a mission, and I didn't want to make you uncomfortable," you said, and then paused before continuing, "But you were making advances?" Your hopeful eyes bored into him, and he took a shaky breath. It was now or never.

"I-yes. I was. I hadn't intended to, but I couldn't stop myself once I started. The truth is that I have... feelings for you--deep feelings--and I have been trying to shake them since the Academy. I have been in love with you for so long that I cannot imagine what my world would be like without you," he paused, "But I was, and am, worried that, given my position of power over you, that I would pressure you into a relationship, or that I would lose my job, or, even worse that you would lose your job over my silly crush." There was a certain vulnerability to being honest that Armitage wasn't used to, and he so rarely felt exposed the way he did now. His heart was in your hands, and, even if you crushed him at this moment, saying that he loved you had lifted a weight he did not even realize he was carrying. Now you knew. Not that the minor relief made the earth-shaking nervousness any better.

A long pause hung in the air between you. His heart pounded in his chest and his ears thrummed with the blood rushing through them. When had he last been this scared? This nervous? He pressed his nails into his palm to distract himself, the bite of the pain taking the edge off. He kept his gaze downward, as if that would help him avoid the inevitable.

Instead, he was met with your hands on his face. Stars, your hands were so soft pressed up against his cheek. His eyes fluttered shut and he leaned into your touch, starved for it. He sighed deeply, hoping against all hope that he could stay here forever, suspended in this moment with you.

Then he felt your lips on his, gentle and warm and perfect. He could have sworn that every single nerve in his body was firing at a million miles an hour and lighting him up like a firework. It was the best feeling Armitage had ever felt. If this is what being kissed felt like, he didn't want to ever stop for the rest of his life. He could die right here and be the happiest man to ever exist. Even when you pulled away, he kept his eyes closed, savoring the moment before it was gone. Your thumb gently stroked his cheek, which made his body scream for more more more, but he ignored it in favor of waiting for you to say something.

"Armitage, I love you too. I've loved you since, well, as long as I can remember," you said. Your confession sat, heavy in the air between you. Now that everything was in the open, the tension that had been suppressed by his fears was suffocatingly strong. His eyes met your lips, again, and he snapped.

He kissed you wildly, grabbing your waist and face with such force that you almost fell over. It was everything he had ever wanted to do to you over all those years--sloppy and messy and so, so intense. Your cheek was just as smooth under his hand as it was earlier, but this time it was *his*. You sniffed in pain when, in his haze, he accidentally bumped your teeth together. Fuck, I hope I'm not bad at this, he thought.

"Sorry," he murmured to you, face only an inch from yours, "I'm not very experienced." He internally hoped you hadn't thought of him as some playboy who would be perfect the first time around.

"Me neither, whatever, just kiss me," you gasped as you pulled his shirt and slammed your lips together again. Your already wet lips slid together and against each other so perfectly, sending jolts to your core. Heat was pooling in his body too, settling to an insistent thrum in his cock, which was already sensitive and twitching like mad. He was leaning down to kiss you, and you occasionally stepped back to catch your balance, until your legs hit the back of his bed, almost knocking you down in the process. He caught you with his arms, which really were stronger than they looked, but what he really wanted was to push you down onto the bed and keep you there for hours. (Would he really be that lucky? Would you even want that, from him? Could he really even make you feel good, let alone make you cum? Would his cock be good enough for you? Big enough? Was he enough? A little voice asked in his mind. He dismissed it.)

"We don't have to, now, I mean," he whispered to you between kisses.

"No, I want to. I want you," you breathed, pulling him down onto you. He was weightless for a moment before catching himself on his arms, his body so close to yours. Here goes nothing, he thought, pressing his clothed erection against you. You moaned in response and he swore it was the sweetest sound he had ever heard. He wanted you to moan for him all night, begging for his cock inside you over and over.

Armitage rocked his hips hesitantly, hoping you wouldn't hold him obviously being aroused beyond belief against him. The friction was absolutely delicious, and he wished there were fewer layers between you as he kept thrusting as he kissed down to your throat, planting wet kisses as he went. You would have a high collar anyway, he figured, so he started sucking and biting a spot that made you whine whenever his tongue ghosted over it.

He pulled off you with a wet pop, and looked in pride at the swollen red mark he left. His. You were his. He beamed with pride. His kisses progressed lower, down to the neckline of your shirt, and you got the hint. When he next pulled off you, you kicked off your slippers and scooched back onto the bed, laying on the pillows. You treated him to quite a show, taking your shirt off slowly and sensually as he sat, practically drooling for you. You were in just your regulation sports bra, not anything special in your mind, but he thought it was the best thing he had ever seen. Your nipples peeked through the garment, and he longed to take them in his mouth.

Fair was fair, so he took off his own shirt, pausing for a moment when he realized this would be the first time anyone saw his bare chest in years. It was, like the rest of him, lean but muscular, and, to him, not particularly sexy. His freckles peppered his shoulders, but his back was covered with small scars from particularly harsh beatings from his father, including several rather prominent cigar burns that he hid at all costs when he was changing in the Academy. It felt shameful, to be so weak. He hoped you wouldn't ask, and that he wouldn't have to explain.

Your eyes scoured his chest, looking like you wanted to pounce on him again, which cast a warm glow in his heart (and crotch, but that mattered less right then). He approached you and lay next to you, on his side, carding his hands through your hair.

"What are these scars from, Armitage?" You asked, tracing a particularly harsh one that cut from his back to his shoulder.

"I-" he felt like his mouth was filled with cotton, dry and heavy. Would you think less of him? "My father. He is... not a kind man," he choked out. You gazed at him with pity, and his heart pattered in his chest. Had he ruined the moment? Did you still want to keep doing... whatever you were doing?

"I'm sorry. He sounds like an asshole," you said. You kissed him tenderly. "But let's not think about him," you continued, kissing him with more heat, more urgency. His arousal came back, insistent. He rolled so he was on top of you, skin against skin, kissing away any memory of his father until his head was filled with nothing but you. His hand came up to your bra strap, and you nodded. He grabbed the bottom, pulling it gently up and over your head. Finally, he was seeing you again. He went back to your jaw, kissing down to your nipple. He took it in his mouth, swirling and sucking until you moaned like you did when you came. He'd pull more noises out of you, he decided. His right hand came up to roll your nipple--almost exactly like you had imagined--grabbing and kneading your breast as he thrust gently against your clothed pussy.

The heat between you was getting unbearable. When he was satisfied with your tits (not that he would ever, really, be done with them), he kissed down to your waistband. Looking up at you for confirmation, he started pulling them down when he saw you nod emphatically. "Yes, yes," you whispered. He practically ripped them off, along with your underwear, finally seeing you naked in front of him again. But what was he supposed to do now? He'd never touched someone like this. He had an idea.

"Show me what you like. How you did it earlier," he commanded, pouring some of his General voice into it. You whimpered, bringing your hand to your clit and rubbing circles. Finally, pleasure. You moaned loudly, and he ripped your hand away. It was his turn.

He dove into your pussy like a man possessed, licking sloppy circles on your clit until he figured out which position made you react the most. Then, he kept on it, speeding up as he went. Words poured out of you, almost surprising you with their filth.

"Fuck yes Armitage please faster please please please that feels so good," you babbled, body twitching. He could feel your abs clenching, and your thighs tensing up as he kept going. With his free hand, he thrust his middle finger into your pussy. You were positively soaked, and he groaned against you at the sensation. He had read somewhere that he was supposed to curl up (in one of his times alone with a datapad after a particularly long study session with you), so he tried it, and you practically screamed. So sensitive for him. He moved a hand to stroke himself through his pants. Fuck, you were perfect.

He set a brutal pace on you, adding another finger, which your pussy instantly gripped around. You were even louder now, so so close to release.

"Please, General, let me cum please please pleasepleaseplease," you gushed, digging your hands into his hair and gripping it. He made a mental note to pull yours later. He could tell you were almost there, and who was he to deny you? He just wanted you to come undone all over him, so he let you.

He could tell you were cumming when you spasmed and clenched *hard* on his fingers, moaning just like you had when he saw you the first time. Only, this time, it was all because of him. He smiled against you at that thought. He gently worked you through your orgasm, slowly lapping at your sensitive clit. You were so perfect for him. When you had caught your breath, he pulled his fingers from you and licked the taste of you off of them as he climbed back up you.

"Darling, I want to fuck you," he said with a newfound confidence from your glazed, doe-like eyes. He had an idea of something you might like. He put his hand on your cheek and toyed with your lower lip like he had earlier.

"Do you want your General to fuck you?" He asked sweetly, pouring just the smallest tinge of command into his tone. He knew you couldn't resist. You whimpered and nodded fervently as your hands tried to tug his pants down. He chuckled darkly and tutted.

"Not yet, darling. Do you have protection?" He asked. He didn't exactly have a need for condoms, so he didn't tend to travel with them. You looked embarrassed as you jumped off the bed and dug one out of your pants pocket, holding it up to him once you returned to the bed. He grinned wildly. You were his favorite strategist, after all. Gods, how he loved you. Armitage ripped open the little foil packet, holding it between his teeth as he pulled his pants down, finally freeing his aching cock. He gave it a pump or two, just to take the edge off, and then he rolled it smoothly onto his cock. Your gaze was fixed on his cock, ravenous. Joy bloomed in his chest, and he lined himself up with you.

"Are you sure, my love?" He just wanted to check. You smiled and tucked a piece of his bangs behind his ear.

"Yes, are you?" He nodded, grinning impishly. He slapped his dick against your oversensitive clit a few times before pressing into you, loving the squeal he elicited. He watched your eyes roll back as he sheathed fully into you, trying in vain to take a mental picture of your face as he first fucked you. The feeling of your sweet, wet, tight pussy gripping his cock was overwhelming and perfect. He was sure life couldn't get any better than being buried in you. He experimentally pulled back and thrust in, shallow, but he groaned with the feeling. So. Fucking. Tight.

"Please, fuck me, sir," you whispered to him, and he immediately started slamming his hips into you. *Stars*, this was worth waiting for. You were worth waiting for. He fucked you with long, deep strokes, rushed and sloppy. His cock was lighting up your pussy, and, whenever you clenched around him, he groaned loudly. Your moans were becoming louder and louder in rhythm to his hips. Your mind was going blank with the feeling of his thick cock bumping against every spot that made your body sing. He could feel his balls tightening, so he pulled out of you quickly, wanting to make this last.

He put his hand under your hip and roughly flipped you over. As he entered you from behind, he grabbed your hair with one hand and smacked your ass with the other. You practically howled, and, before he could push in all the way, started moving your hips on his cock. He tutted at you and grabbed your hip with his free hand, pulling your hair to turn you to face him.

"You want to be fucked? I'll fuck you, angel," he growled, setting a brutal pace. You squealed and bucked when his hand snaked down your stomach and met your clit. The headboard of the bed smashed against the wall, the springs creaking so loudly, it almost sounded like your moans. But you, his love, were drowning them all out with your beautiful moans. Stars, he was close. He wasn't going to cum without you, though, so he put all his energy into speeding up his hand on your clit and fucking you even faster.

Then, it came. He could tell you were close from the way your body tightened and you panted, just like you had before. All at once, you came with a loud yelp, moaning obscenities shortly after. It was too much for him. His legs were tingling from the pleasure, and his head was buzzing, almost distracting him from the hot coil in his stomach. When your pussy clenched from the waves of your orgasm, it was over for him. The feeling exploded all over him, and he fucked you through it, chanting your name like a prayer as he finished.

Tired and spent, he leaned forward and rested on your back. His head was a daze, filled with such much joy that he didn't know it was even possible. He pressed a few lazy kisses to your back as you panted, tipping your head back to look at him with a smile. After a minute, he pulled out of you, tied off the condom, and tossed it somewhere toward the trash. He would get it later. You slipped into his arms, resting your head against his slightly sweaty chest.

"That was perfect," he said, still trying to catch his breath. He played with the hair that fell over your face, pushing it behind your ear.

"I love you, Armitage," you said, and he decided he would never get tired of those words.

"I love you more, darling," he responded.

"Most."

"Moster."

"Mostest," he chuckled with his face buried in your hair. You settled into contented silence, gazing out the window to space.

"I should really go clean up," you murmured.

"Can I join you? We have 18 hours to kill, after all," he asked, grinning from ear to ear.

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

AN: thanks so much for reading!! asks are always open for requests or feedback, and i'd love to hear from you!

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

It’s my birthday soon and my friend has come to visit me from miles away.

She brought gifts and one of them is this!

I wrote a modern au Hux x f!reader fanfic ages ago called Paper Hearts.

And she printed me a copy!!

I am holding my own, physical writing in my own damn hands. I have no words for this feeling. None.

[henclair]

pushing my fall out boy kylux agenda publicly!!!

[randofandomtrash]

💔

[starlightsearches]

Sad wet pathetic Hux… or… Sadistic asshole Hux? 🤭

She Is Mine

Thank you so much for this request, Lena! Sorry it took me so long 😬 I was overcome with horny visions that led to no writing, but sad wet pathetic Hux ultimately won the battle!

AN: Guess who's back? Hopefully nobody else is sick of this arranged marriage AU yet because I'm definitely not! This one's mainly hurt/comfort with some very low lows and some new highs! We've got incredibly jealous and pathetic Hux for your enjoyment uwu. Comments and reblogs are always appreciated, my loves!

Armitage tugs at the collar of his dress uniform, restless, wishing he could manage to ignore the crushing emptiness that's threatening to swallow him.

This is hardly the worst slight he's ever experienced. There had been hundreds of embarrassments and affronts to his pride—not even considering the deep aches from his childhood and their lingering stings.

So why is it this one that has him feeling like he's dying?

The answer is there—right in front of him, as it were—but even that is too painful. Armitage can't manage to meet your eyes.

And his hopes had been so high. Only hours ago there had been that singing, almost giddy feeling in his chest as you clung to his arm, walking with him into the glimmering party—the wide-eyed look of wonder and a smile on your face that the sip from his glass of Correlian whiskey only managed to dampen for a moment.

It had been beautiful. Perfect, even. The exact kind of moment he had been waiting for since he first laid eyes on you. The kind of moment that reflected the depth of his feeling.

The kind of moment where he might have the words to express his devotion.

And then there had been that man.

Armitage's vision goes black at the edges, even now, just thinking about the scene—the look on your face when you recognized this old friend, his possessive leering, the mockery in his tone and that sly gaze he'd shared with Armitage just out of your line of sight.

"You wouldn't mind, of course, general, if I stole your wife for just a moment?"

Armitage would mind. He minded very much.

And, still, on the exterior he had remained stoic, gracious even, had watched you walk out those gaping doors into the dim blue of the gardens, another man's hand pressed into the small of your back.

One of the other guests near the bar had called him brave, the mockery in his tone and the snide laughter of the others perfectly communicating that they all, including Armitage, were thinking the exact same thing.

His wife, secluded in the thick, dark branches of drooping trees, sheltered away from prying eyes, her feverish kisses in the darkness and eager, reaching hands.

Your obvious hunger for someone, for anyone, else.

His mouth had bled with the force of his teeth cutting into the meat of his cheek, and he had washed it away with slow, stinging sips of drink after drink.

Off the transport, the heels of your shoes click sharply, echoing in the empty halls and the hollow space behind his eyes, and your hand feels stolid and limp as it clings to his arm, the walls of his hurt and anger keeping you far from him.

The air in his quarters is stifling, and Armitage rips at the fastening of his collar until it snaps, but there's no help, no aid. Just a roiling nausea and the shake in his fingers that can't be quelled.

"Armitage?"

Your hand at his shoulder, voice sweet and ripe with a hurt he can't see. He won't meet your eyes.

"Is something wrong?"

Yes. He drops into a seated position on the plush couch, every line of him weary, every heartbeat a withering ache.

He has to face it. Despite himself, despite the longing and the fierceness and the depth of his need, Armitage knows that he has done you wrong. He has trapped you here, trapped you in this marriage without any real consent and against your will, trapped you in his permanent misery.

And that is something he cannot bear any longer.

Armitage leans heavily on his forearms, propped up by his knees, and rubs the sting from his eyes before meeting your gaze, still stunned, as always, to be in your presence.

"I consider your marital responsibilities to me fulfilled."

Hurt etches every aspect of your features, your steps hesitant before you fall into the space beside him. Your hand reaches for him, fingers trembling, never making contact.

"Armitage, I don't understand."

He swallows, continues, "this union has met the needs of my position and the contract between your father and the First Order, and there is no more I can expect from you. If you wish to find satisfaction for your- your romantic desires elsewhere, with proper discretion, I will not stand in your way."

The hand that had reached for him flashes back, pressed against your lips and there are tears in your eyes, catching the light, shimmering against dark lashes.

Your mouth trembles, unable to form the words you need. Maybe you'll thank him. Maybe you'll never speak to him again.

"Please," you whisper, "I don't- is this about Andres?"

Just hearing the other man's name is like a knife slid into the vulnerable spaces between his ribs, and he reminds himself that this is what he deserves, that it's only a fraction of the pain he must have caused you.

The look in his eyes must be answer enough. You stare at each other in the silence, and he waits for the end.

Your fingers are chill, the feeling unexpected, when they brush against his cheek, smoothing over the the sharp contours of his face. It's a gentle gesture, as if you're wiping away tears he knows are not there.

"Andres is an old friend," you tell him, quiet, kind, and something else he can't puzzle out, "but he is careless with his things, and with people."

That spike of anger returns, for a moment, washing away everything else.

"Was he careless with you?"

Fragments of glitter that dust your skin catch in the light, disappearing and reappearing with each small shake of your head, as if by magic.

"I never let him close enough."

Armitage is close enough, and more aware of it than ever before, tasting the air you breathe, feeling the singing heat of your skin so near to his. But you must know that he is never careless.

You lean into the kiss he presses to your lips, part your mouth and sigh into his deep breaths as he tastes you.

And that same desperation is back, his body pressing yours into the cushions, the solid weight of you here, and for the first time, knowing you want to be.

A hand at your neck, that racing pulse, and your sweet, soft gasps, almost moans at the feeling of him.

Armitage finds himself sinking, once again, beneath that light-headed fear—that shaking, disorienting spark of your touch.

He wants to run from it. And he wants to stay.

"Do you want me to stop now?" He breathes the question against your lips, meets your eyes and finds them burning with your own hidden desires.

"No," you promise with the shake of your head, "never."

Oh.

[flydinom]

He loves Poe's large shirts.

[moonlightshaiku]

Hux's "Type"

Hux is one of those people that thinks they have a very specific type, but falls in love with everyone that isn't that.

He thinks he likes people who are down to earth, strict, rule-followers, hold high positions and have a lot to determination to go farther.

He ends up with people who are dreamy, nervous, lack ambition, reckless, stubborn, follow rules only when they think they apply, etc.

And he loves them for it. He doesn't see these things as flaws, because he hates perfect. He's been trying to be perfect for so long, it's what he expects. But being comfortable with someone else's flaws helps him actually live, enjoy life. That what his partner does.

He still likes certain qualities in a person, he likes ambition and people who are down to earth, but he also loves when they're not those things. When he has variety from everyday life.

[lemongingerart]

Hi Peb, responding to your 'get help'!

(((I made a separate post for several reasons. Lately, if I reblog something with extra content, it's just ignored. Also, this content has dirt on it. Lemons. NSFW. I wanted you to choose whether or not you want to be associated with it and how you want to get the tags right 😅))))

Ah, I'm sorry to hear that you're going through tough times! How is it that bad things always seem to happen simultaneously? I certainly feel you on the first topic though, right now I'm under a pile of blankets with covid as well. Tough mf.

We all sometimes need a pat on the back (or a bottle of red wine to share 🥲) so I do like this idea and dug through my Hux x OC fic for something shareable (because in all honesty that's the only content I have 🙃)

So… have this partially unfinished and unreviewed smutty chapter, that I won't be publishing this year anyway, because it’s so far up my fic no one will remember I shared this today 😅

(Oh stars, I think this is the first time I'm putting smut out in the open, and it's not even romantic, it's pure horny filth mainly for the ginger general's pleasure … but I'm too exhausted from corona to care 💁‍♀️💁‍♀️💁‍♀️ )

Tagging the moots, in case they're horny for Hux: @liminalpebble, @mylifeisactuallyamess , @morby - let me know if you want in

Wourd count: about 2 500

Tags/warnings: Hux POV, in universe but kind of AU if you read this separately, established relationship, Hux x female!OC (called Miko), hints of dom/sub relationship, boobs, dry humping maybe?, oral (m!receiving), a shoe.

Let me know what I forgot, because I most certainly did forget something (hence, corona)

'H, we got an issue on the eastbound production line' Miko said, barging into his office and suddenly standing next to his desk.

Armitage skeptically looked up from his datapad, not amused by her lack of discipline. Still… he thought he would never have to admit it, but he was getting slightly used to it. The annoyance towards her unprofessional behavior had dwindled, now only a minor hindrance and thus making him able to focus on the reason she stumbled inside his office in the first place.

"Lieutenant, at ease." He said, although it wasn’t like she was standing straight up anyway. "Please explain. Slowly. "

Miko nodded, but the way she pulled up her eyebrow made it clear she wasn't having any of it. Stars, each time she was besting his authority she was encouraging him to find ways to fuck her and he wondered if she was doing it on purpose or even by reflex.

She swiftly provided him with an overview of various calculations, clearly visualized on her datapad, while she was elaborating on the numbers with her usual passionate style.

Hux didn't hear what she was saying though. Although he was watching her lip movements closely. And the way her chest heaved when she took a breath in between her rambling. Hmm, he'd love to free up some time in his busy schedule to open the clasps of that uniform and feel how warm and pliable her breasts feel today.

Miko stopped her exposition. "You aren't listening, are you." She stated, setting up a pouting face and her right hand on her hip. He knew her enough to assume that the disappointment was at least exaggerated, at best staged. He also knew how to turn that disappointment into something much more pleasant.

"You’re distracting me, Lieutenant. " Miko turned a quarter when she laid down the datapad before him. She switched hands, planting her knuckles on her other hip. She frowned. "Distracting you? This is kind of urgent, otherwise I wouldn't barge into your office and disturb your heavily stuffed planning like this." He could swear she was mocking him now.

She sighed, waving her free hand towards the datapad on the table and ticking on the graphs. While doing so, she leaned on his desk and he could smell the champoo on her hair - of course she wasn't using the regulated one - and a hint of the tea they shared this morning.

"Still, you know what your lack of manners and disrespect do to me." He hissed, turning his desk chair and sliding her way. Miko looked back to him in bewilderment. Did she really not expect him to make a remark like this? She frowned for a second.

"Apologies, sir, for speaking before my time. " she then quietly said, blushing and turning her gaze towards the ground. He didn’t miss the flicker in her eyes, though, signaling Hux she was more than happy to play along. Stars, he never was sure if she did these things on purpose in the first place.

He did want to get that uniform open now, just a little bit to feel if he could make her moan with one hand in, kneading her tits and making her nipples get stiff between his fingers.

Outstretching his right leg, he locked his foot behind the back of Miko’s knee, coercing her to come closer. Hux hips had sunken more towards the end of the chairs seating now, making him lay back a bit. She followed his unspoken directions with baby steps, the closer she got the more blush apparent on her cheeks.

As she was standing in between his legs now, he raked his long fingers over the side of her figure. He could spot how she pulled in her lower lip, biting it as if it could stop her from breathing heavily, betraying she needed his touch.

He chuckled, he deeply appreciated the way she played her part right now. It was still a mystery to him how she could just… be who she was to him.

"I'm not sure if I can just accept those apologies. But I am in a good mood. Can your eastbound issue wait for another 15 minutes?" Miko only nodded. "Good. Because I'm going to solve another problem first." He whispered, pulling her closer by the neck clasp of the uniform. She had to bend her knees forward and he made sure her upper legs reached the chair, right before the center of his pants. The next friction created by her leg moving was no coincidence though, it made it clear to him she was aware of the boner in his pants and how she was more than willing to do something about it.

But first, he wanted to open up that uniform just enough to see her nipples come out and give them some of his treatment, while still some of the skin remained locked in fabric.

He pulled her closer even more, planting a kiss on her lips, the kind of kiss that is making her want more by the way she tries to pull on his lips. But he wasn’t going to give her those yet. He still had a firm grip on the collar, making sure she couldn’t steal away any extra kisses. The soft but needy complaining sound that escaped her lips, made him chuckle.

His other hand found a way to the clips of the uniform, expertly opening it up from under the collar to right under her breasts. Keen on reaching his target, he slipped his hand inside, pulling up the tank top she was wearing underneath. Still holding her by the collar and enjoying the way she looked bothered and desperate for another kiss, he cupped her left breast, fingers sliding between the fabric of her bra and her warm skin. The way they moved made him knead them a single time, before pulling down the bra and exposing her skin to the cold air.

Seeing her facial expression change to something even more needy, almost animal like, was his new favorite thing. While he was most certainly doing this for himself, pleasing her always gave him that extra rush to the head. Lately, in the afterglow, it made him realize that he would do anything to keep her by his side.

He repeated the process on the right side, this time taking in how both tits looked out in the open and if it was matching his recent visualization. Gods, he loved the sight of how tense they stood, all restrained through the fabric and the cold air. Matching the pout on her face.

He pulled her closer by the collar again, contemplating if he should kiss that cute pout from her face or not. Her feigned disapproval had proven to give him more inspiration before.

"H., s-sir… we really do have an issue in the eastbound.." she breathed into his ear, stopping mid-sentence due to the soft pinch he performed on her nipples. While he should probably credit her for not leaving out a sound, he relished in how he could control her like that.

He pushed her back, letting her neck go, making her stand up so he could appreciate the sight. The minute he saw realisation dawn on her features, she became to blush even more. "Lieutenant, how come that you always have such a lood mouth, but somehow this is the only way I can make you feel-"

BLIEP, the comm on the desk did, making Hux snap out of it and Miko have the strangest reflex he ever saw in a human: she dived right onto the floor, hiding from the visual receptors of the holocomm device. Hux sighed, turned his chair towards his desk and pressed the accept button to answer the call. He had made it clear he only wanted to be interrupted for urgent matters only, so he could not ignore the call.

"Better be something important, Captain." He started with a snide. He could hear Miko giggle from beside him and he almost rolled his eyes.

The problem with captain Gavin is that he thinks every gossip that happened in his department was of utmost importance. Another problem is that Hux, while higher in ranks, could not simply replace him yet. Drawbacks of running a mid-sized business compared to a complete fleet.

He sighed, annoyance apparent on his face, but still having a hard dick under the desk and a Lieutenant on all fours, tits out, next to him.

He subtly rolled his desk chair to Miko’s side, sliding his foot towards her and halting it right in front of her. He then moved his toes upwards twice, the leather of the boot making a scratching sound, to signal her to come closer. He saw her nodding in the crook of his sight, eyes wide, expressing she got the message. On hands and knees, she silently started crawling towards his foot. While Hux feigned interest in Gavin, he reached further and lower with his leg, the calf of his foot first touching her right boob, then making her crawl closer even more until he could settle his foot in between her legs.

Making sure her head remained under the line of sight from the desk, he turned back in forward position so she slided on his foot, under the desk. "Captain, explain to me why you're not wasting my time.", he asked the holo. Said captain resumed his reasoning while Hux tried to remain as boring looking as ever, while stars he could feel her grind on his shoe right now.

If there was something he really wanted to see, it was the sight of his favorite Lieutenant (the only Lieutenant he favored), half naked but still in uniform, riding his shoe and enjoying it very much. Sadly, he couldn't afford looking down right now, so he just had to imagine her boobs bouncing, her pants getting soaked and the leather of his shoe getting stained. He'll wear the mark throughout the remainder of the day with pride, something his old self would forsake him for.

Gah, he needed some depressurising for himself, and resume with what he had in mind before he got the holocall.

He subtly brought his hand down, fingers stretching and probing for contact with the only person he could trust down there. Almost immediately, he found her hair and pulled it closer in between his legs. That was enough for her to interpret the silent order correctly and get to work on his belt, all the while Gavin rattled about modulators and wrong versions and disgraces and what not.

Hux wasn't sure his face remained stoic the moment she slowly licked the head of his dick, making sure no precum got spilled. What he was sure of though, is that his right leg bumped the underside of the durasteel desk as if it was hit by lightning. That would sting later.

She had pleased him with blowjobs before, so the sensation itself wasn't new, although each time it felt as heavenly as before. That's why he knew she was taking whatever she would get, the wretched woman loved to turn him inside out whenever she could.

But this setting, with Miko under a table and he himself having to concentrate on acting like he was interested in captain chippy? That was completely new and more of a challenge than he had anticipated.

When he felt her make little circles with her tongue, obviously having fun and trying extra hard to make sure he won't forget this particular session, he automatically clenched his fists. He pulled her hair, and she took the action as encouragement, taking him in her mouth completely and slowly sinking down towards the base. Fearing this would be too much to handle all the while making the holocall, he brought his free hand up before his mouth, trying to hide the scowl that was forming. When she reached her limit, she started to go up again, sucking with all might and making him see stars. As soon as he felt the turn in her movement on his cock, he commenced curling his fingers and pressing his fist against his lips, to make sure he wouldn't start panting in front of the camera.

Soon, she started pumping his dick, following the rhythm she knew he enjoyed all too well, and he had to stop his hips from tensing and stretching. By a thousand suns, why was she so good at this?

"General, I'm sorry to disturb you, but have you seen Lieutenant Ylena? We have an issue in the eastbound sector and she wanted to be informed of the process." Sergeant K interrupted captain Gavin during his boring plea. Hux had to focus on the conversation again, now that two of his subordinates were in view of the holo. A daunting task considering how much underpressure she was putting on his cock right now - he could imagine the dimples in her cheek. Oh frack, he needed to answer now, so he pulled her still with the grip he still had on her scalp. Miko immediately stopped, but didn't let him go though, applying the littlest of pressure and letting him know that this game works both ways.

Hux sighed and answered the men in the holo: "I've just heard her, she's on her way up to me for some other matter. I'll send her over once I'm done with her."

Shit, she was definitely chuckling on his dick now. Then, she started doing little short sucking motions on the head of his cock, sending him to new heights. This conversation had to come to an end now.

"Captain, sergeant, I propose we end this debate right now and I will see to it that Lieutenant Ylena will be at your department as soon as she can," he blurted out, way too fast for his doing but he just needed to close the communication line and stop her from using her mouth and driving him to his peak so soon. In the meanwhile, he had come up with other plans.

He pressed a button and the holo disappeared. Now that he could move more freely, he brought his other hand down and stroked her filled mouth: "Shush, I still want you on the desk my little Lieutenant." He said with a crooked smile while pulling her back from his cock at her hair. "Get up while I lock the door. This time I will not be disturbed while I make you feel exactly how hard you made it for me. "

[lookatthestarrynight]

We Always Love the Things We Cannot Have - Part 3/3

Armitage Hux/Reader, on AO3, check my masterlist for more (including the previous parts).

Armitage Hux, General of the First Order, Destroyer of Worlds, regretted few things in life… but this? He regretted this very much. He had not meant to fall for his strange savior, a woman who claimed to be nobody, who disappeared with just as much ease as she appeared. They were bound to meet again… after all, the galaxy works in mysterious ways.

Warnings: it's like two inches to the left of smut. 1530 words.

A/N: I dropped off the face of Tumblr for three years but this has also been in a google docs for three years so I present: the long awaited, maybe much anticipated part three. i'msosorry.

As was their recurring habit, General Hux encountered his scarred savior for a third time when he was attending an admittedly very frustrating fundraising party in a Canto Bight casino. He was aware that the Resistance might show up, but he hadn’t expected to be cornered by her in a casino elevator following a successful business deal. He’d gotten in alone, assuring his troopers that he would be fine alone – which, at this point, he should know is not really true. He’d gone down two floors, and then the elevator had stopped with a beep and in stepped her. Her, in a shimmering red dress, her eyes like bright orbs, framed in perfect eyeshadow, her silvery scar on full display, her hair twisted in an ornate updo. Who knew the Resistance had money for such a look?

“Hello, Armitage.”

He murmured her name in greeting as she stepped into the elevator car. “What brought you here?”

She stood next to him, now. “The General wanted me to make friends with my mother again, so that’s what I did. And my mother wanted me here.” 

He nods, recalling her story from the first time they met. It was not Resistance business at all, then, not really.

“What about you?”

“First Order fundraising business.”

“Ah. Sounds like fun.”

“It’s not.”

She giggled. “Do you want to have fun?”

He looked over at her, at the mischievous glint in her eyes. “I’m not entirely sure.”

She smiled, reaching forward and stopping the elevator car, fiddling with the buttons on the screen and sending the car rocketing back upwards, towards the floor she came from. 

“They’ll notice I’m gone.”

She shrugged. “I’m sure you can come up with a clever fib, Armitage.”

He flushed, and watched as the car slowly approached her floor, coming to a stop with a ding. She grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the car with her and down the hall to the door of her suite. She pressed her hand to the panel on the side of the door and it slid open with a mute, satisfying whoosh. She pulled him in, the door closing behind them. They stood in the foyer of the suite now, and she spun to face him.

“Well? What do you think?”

“About what?”

A conniving glint passed through her eyes. “About fun, Armitage.”

Hux shrugged, noncommittal and stiff. He had a feeling he knew what she meant, but he couldn’t help but want to make her spell it out for him.

She huffed, stepping towards him, her hands going to thread her fingers through the hair on the nape of his neck. Her perfume swirled around him, wrapping him in her aura once again. Slowly, he moved his hands to rest on her hips. He pulled her into him and she fell into his chest with a surprised gasp.

“Armitage!” she breathed, teasing. 

He smiled, looking down at her. “You’re the one that started it, darling.”

“Darling?”

“Would you prefer a different pet name?”

She grinned. “No, not at all.” She pushed herself forward, her lips meeting his. He could faintly taste her red lipstick as their lips parted and their tongues met. After a moment, she pulled away, breathless, and extricated herself from his grip. She stepped away and beckoned that he follow her down the hall that broke away straight from the foyer, and he did. It was only but a moment before she snagged his hand in hers and dragged him into what he presumed was her bedroom – and then she wrapped him up in her arms and their lips were connected yet again. One of her hands separated from him, reaching for her own hair and pulling out the ornate pins that held it in place. She reached to one of his hands and brought it to her hair, tossing the pins haphazardly on the dresser a bit away from where they stood. Hux curled his fingers into her locks, pushing himself closer to her. 

It occurred to him that there were many things about this that were inherently wrong – namely: he was an officer of the First Order, she of the Resistance. But, as she pulled him with her towards the bed, he couldn’t really find it in himself to care about the little things like that. Slowly, his fingers wandered to the clasps of her dress, and he undid them, one at a time, feeling the fine fabric slide through his hands and down her body like water. In likewise form, her fingers wandered to the buttons of his dress uniform, undoing them with oddly practiced grace.

Hardly but a moment later, he found himself on his back, on the bed, with her straddling his lower abdomen, a shining smile on her face as she leaned forward to kiss him again, and again, and again.

They seemed, as cliche as it sounded, to fit together like puzzle pieces. Hux was mesmerized as he watched her rise and fall above him, head thrown back in ecstasy. He held her hips, tighter and tighter, as if to hold this moment in time forever. Her little gasps of pleasure were music to his ears, a sound he would cherish forever; the warmth of her around him a sensation unlike any other. The sheets wrapped around them in a warm embrace, cocooning them in a moment unto their own, far away from the trials of the galaxy. In what felt like no time at all to Hux (but was, in fact, surely longer), they were separating, laying beside each other, breathing heavily. With his heart thundering away in his chest (whether from exertion, or love, or both), he pulled her closer to his body and held her for a moment, dreading the approaching instant that they would separate, again, for who knows how long. 

After a while, she pulled herself free of his grasp, and sat up in the bed. “I’m sure they will be missing you by now, Armitage.” She looked sad even as she said it, so Hux bit back his snarky response and nodded reluctantly – already beginning his evolution back into a stiff military man. 

She watched him with sparkling eyes as he redressed, as he stood in front of the mirror and fixed his hair, as he straightened his cuffs and pulled the wrinkles from his uniform. At some point, she got up from the bed, wandering over to him in nothing but the sheet – held loosely, at that – and quietly slid one of her ornate hair pins into the interior pocket of his uniform jacket, gently kissing his cheek as she did so. 

“I’m sure I’ll see you again soon, Armitage.”

He nodded, turning to her and pressing a kiss to her hairline. “Likewise, darling.”

And with that, he was walking out of the bedroom and down the hall, out of the suite and to the elevator, out to the casino, to the First Order fundraiser, back to the stuffy Senators and businessmen – and away from what he’d decided was the most beautiful thing in the whole galaxy. 

<>

He did not see her again soon. In fact, he did not see her again for a year, and for that entire span of time, he found himself desperately wishing he’d found a way to keep in touch with her – but today, he came to the startling realization that she had somehow found a way to keep in touch with him. 

Today, he received an encrypted message from a far corner of the galaxy, with the sender merely listed as “Darling.” He knew who it was, of course, he remembered everything. It was a message of five lines, five sentences that had managed to turn his entire world upside down. 

The first informed him that she had left the Resistance shortly after their last meeting.

The second informed him of why.

The third informed him of the name of her reason why: Amarante.

The fourth informed him that mother and daughter were in a place no military, no enemy of his would ever find them.

The fifth was three small, meaningful words. I love you.

And so, when Kylo Ren found General Hux later that day, he was precisely where her message had left him – standing in front of a glass viewport on the Finalizer, staring into deep space, wishing he knew which stars they could both see. 

“General.”

“Commander.”

“You look… surprised. I had not thought such a thing was… possible, for a man like you.” 

Hux could feel the fingers of the Force rifling through his mind, finding what was wrong in only an instant.

“Ah.”

Hux merely grunted in return.

“Well, at least they are safe.”

Hux wanted to smack the Commander, make him understand that there was so much more to this than safety, but he didn’t.

“When the First Order succeeds, I’m sure she will find you again, General.”

For the first time ever, Armitage Hux found himself genuinely afraid of losing – the war, her, Amarante – all of it.

Armitage Hux, General of the First Order, Destroyer of Worlds, regretted few things in life… but this? He regretted this very much.

Another A/N: I like to think this is what made him spy for the Resistance in the end. Some sort of misguided prayer for redemption, hope to see her, I dunno. In a perfect world, he lived happily ever after with his Darling and Amarante. But, well. We know how this story ends… if anyone is interested I could definitely write an AU epilogue, though. I have many thoughts (including, but not limited to, Poe x Darling, platonic or romantic). In my head a lot of this happens beginning before TFA, and pushing a bit into it but not far. Come TLJ and TROS, I’m feeling Darling and Amarante have been estranged from the galaxy for at least a few years, and Amarante is no longer a toddling baby.