#general hux reader insert

[komotionlessqueenmm]

Headcanon/Preference # 37

Gifs NOT mine.

Rating - SFW

Reading time (roughly) - 12 minutes

Year posted - 2025

So yeah I totally killed the reader off in this one... Wanted this one to be angsty. Enjoy.

----------------------------

• Obi-wan Kenobi •

• Obi-wan knew he shouldn't have let you join him on this particular mission.

• He knew something was off about this mission, he had sensed it in the Force.

• But he'd let you join regardless, and now you lay at his feet, bleeding out.

• He quickly dispatched of the enemy, and pulled you into his arms.

• "My love stay with me, you're going to be okay."

• He cradled your head in his free hand, trying desperately to assure you that everything will be okay.

• While also trying to fool himself into thinking you'll be able to pull through.

• As your breathing turned shallow, he kissed your forehead, smiling through the pain.

• He needed to be strong for you.

• And as your eyes fluttered closed, and your chest stilled, Obi-wan felt as if a part of himself had died with you.

• Only then did he allow himself to cry, and Obi-wan Kenobi was never the same.

• Becoming a shell of the man he once was, he eventually leaves the Jedi and roams the galaxy, feeling utterly lost without you by his side.

• Anikin Skywalker •

• Anikin thought he could protect you from anything.

• His one truest love, the one person he would have done anything for.

• This is the most dramatic turn of events for Anikin, the moment when he gave into the dark side.

• Cradling your lifeless body in his arms, Anikin screamed and cried.

• "You can't leave me (Y/n), you can't!"

• And with the aggressive flick of his wrist, he killed those that had taken you from him.

• He was merciless, unforgiving, and beyond angry.

• Anikin felt as if he'd died alongside you, and in many ways he did.

• Alone he laid you to rest.

• His once beautiful blue eyes turned to yellow as he watched you disappear from his life.

• Anikin felt as if your blood was on his hands, as if he failed to protect you.

• He also felt as if he failed you, because if you hadn't loved him as deeply as you did, maybe then you wouldn't have given your life for his.

• The day you died, was the very same day Darth Vader was born.

• Qui-Gon Jinn •

• Qui-Gon knew he shouldn't have grown attached to you, he knew it wouldn't end well.

• The rules about attachments, about love, were in place for this very reason.

• Quickly he took care of the man that had fatally wounded you, and held you close.

• Try as he might with the help of the force he attempted to heal your wounds, unable to do so he tried his best to be strong for you.

• He pecked your lips, and brushed back your hair.

• "You're going to be alright darling, just breath. That's it, just keep breathing."

• His hands shook as he placed his free hand over your wound, trying weakly to stop the bleeding.

• Again he tried using the Force to at least try to ease your pain, to make this easier for you.

• "Just relax my darling, we'll see eachother again."

• Qui-Gon promised you with a weak smile, his heart breaking at the sight of your own equally weak smile.

• His heart breaking further as he felt your breathing slow down considerably, the light in your eyes fading with every shallow breath.

• If there was anything Qui-Gon was grateful for, it was getting to hold you in his arms one last time.

• Darth Maul •

• Maul was foolish enough to think you were untouchable, that you were both untouchable.

• And his world crashed around him as you collapsed to the ground.

• Maul thought he knew pain, but all that he's been through, all that he's done. It was nothing compared to losing you.

• "You'll pay for this!"

• Maul growled at the man that was daring enough to hurt you.

• Ruthlessly he slashed at the man, cutting him limb from limb, and keeping him alive until he was satisfied.

• His rage blinded him, and only subsidied when he heard you wheezing in pain.

• "(Y/n) my star."

• Without another thought he dropped his saber, and rushed to your side, cradling you against his chest.

• He was unfazed by your blood seeping into his robes, firmly placing his hand against your wound, desperately trying to at least slow the bleeding.

• "I'll find you again my star, nothing can keep me from you, nothing."

• Maul promised as he rest his forehead against your own, the connection between you both through the Force, assuring him that he could keep that promise.

• He also swore to take down anyone and everyone that was involved in your demise, whoever that man worked for was as good as dead, and anyone else Maul deemed guilty.

• Maul will destroy worlds to avenge you if he must.

• He kept his eyes locked with yours as you slowly slipped away, his hearts thundering with heartache.

• "We will be together again."

• Maul promised before you gave your final breath, a rage filled scream escaping him as you died.

• And all who knew of Darth Maul, learned that after your demise, the Sith could be far crueler, far darker than he had been when you were still alive.

• Maul eventually turns to the traditions of the Zabrak, and finds a way to reunite with you through the magick of his people.

• It isn't enough, and it'll never be enough, because it is simply a ghost of you.

• But until his demise it is all he can manage, and he will accept that while he cannot hold you anymore, he can at least still see you and speak with you.

• Feral Opress •

• Feral is heartbroken beyond belief.

• You were the only truly good thing in his life, you were his and he was yours.

• Savage had witnessed the whole thing unfold, and for the sake of his brother, he struck down the man that dared to harm you.

• Feral wasn't sure what to do, so he acted on instinct, and laid beside you, pulling you into his arms.

• You had once said laying in his embrace was your favorite thing, the thing that brought you the most comfort.

• And he knew that's all he could do for you, comfort you as you slowly succumbed to your wounds.

• "Sh sh my sweet, just relax, I'm here, I've got you."

• He brushed your hair back in a soothing way, ignoring how much it hurt him to feel your blood painting his skin.

• He peppered kisses across your paling face, his hearts breaking with every kiss.

• You giggled in a pitiful way, coughing a moment later, blood oozed from your mouth.

• And Feral, delicately, lovingly wiped it away.

• "It's okay my sweet, look at me."

• His lip quivered a little as your glossy eyes peered into his own.

• "I love you, don't you ever forget that."

• He pecked your lips, tears escaping him when your final breath wheezed out from your lungs.

• Savage Opress •

• Savage instantly saw red, his hearts filled with rage, and regret.

• He ripped the man who hurt you limb from limb with his bare hands. The man's blood only cooling his temper a little.

• Dropping the carcass carelessly to the ground, he rushed back to your side, and as gently as he could he picked you up and cradled you against his chest.

• With you in his arms, Savage walked carefully across the tundra of the desolate planet you were on, unable, unwilling to just leave you on this wasteland of a planet.

• "Oh little one, my sweet stupid girl. You should have just let me handle him."

• He meant well, he really did. But he was hurt that you would do something so reckless, so selfless.

• You had once promised him forever.

• You giggled weakly, reaching up to caress his handsome face. And Savage melted into your touch.

• His hearts broke, knowing he couldn't save you, not this time.

• His blazing eyes locked onto your pale face, he wanted to commit your face to memory, despite the fact that he already has every part of you committed to memory.

• "I'll see you again little one, through the magick, the Force, I will see you again."

• He promised as he cradled you close, the chill of your skin finally breaking his resolve.

• Savage cried as he held you close, falling to his knees as you struggled to breathe.

• He grew darker that day, much darker. Swearing to fight to the bitter end, until he could be reunited with you once more.

• Kylo Ren •

• The moment you collapsed before his eyes, Kylo felt as if he would die alongside you.

• With a rage filled cry, Kylo cut down the man that hurt you, and threw the rest over a nearby cliff with the Force.

• He fell to his knees beside you, watching helplessly as your blood stained the snow around you.

• "Starlight what have you done?"

• He breathed out as he pulled you into his arms, tears of heartache and rage streaming down his face, his helmet long since abandoned.

• "I couldn't- couldn't let you get hurt."

• You had wheezed out, desperately clutching the deep gash at your side. Kylo's hand rest over yours, desperately hoping to stop the bleeding.

• "I can't live without you."

• Kylo whispered in a broken voice, burying his face into the crook of your neck.

• He squeezed you tighter, as you grew colder and colder in his arms.

• "Don't leave me, please, I can't go on without you."

• Kylo shook in his sorrow and rage, as your breathing became shallow.

• Despite the fact that you were literally dying, you still tried to comfort him, brushing his hair back weakly, your blood staining his pale skin.

• This only served to break his heart further, how can he possibly go on without you?

• Kylo is the most likely to rage an all out war, in hopes of getting himself killed so he could be reunited with you.

• But that's not to say he won't fight to the bitter end.

• Armitage Hux •

• It took everything in Armitage to stay standing, to not collapse and cradle you in his arms.

• If he had done so, he knew your sacrifice would have been in vain.

• But the moment the man is killed by his troopers, he's falling to his knees and pulling you into his arms.

• "GET A MEDICAL DROID NOW!"

• He barks at his men, who rush to follow out his order.

• But it's too late, your once bright eyes are dull and lifeless, having died on impact.

• That doesn't stop Armitage from deluding himself into thinking you'll be okay.

• He's crying, and begging you to wake up, but you don't respond to any of his attempts to stir you.

• "Please angel, wake up, come on."

• He's shaking you, kissing you, and eventually in his desperation he's beating on your chest in an attempt to get your heart pumping again.

• By the time a medical droid comes, he refuses to let you go. His troopers eventually have to tear him away from your body.

• He's kicking and screaming, red in the face as he fights them. But it's no good, they are to strong.

• Armitage has to control himself during your funeral, every instinct in him screaming to not let you go, to fight to bring you back.

• He is much harsher after this, starting arguments more and more with Kylo, and taking every ounce of pain when Kylo throws him across the room with the Force, as if he deserves to be punished.

• He's even trying to goad Kylo into killing him, but the man has a little more restraint than the General had thought.

• Armitage is the most likely to give into his dark depressive thoughts, and take his own life.

• His final thoughts are of you and you alone.

• General Grievous •

• You were his most prized "possession" so to speak, nothing in all of the galaxy meant as much to Grievous as you did.

• "My treasure, no you can't do this, you can't leave me I forbid it!"

• He's killed the man before you even hit the ground, where you lay for mere moments before he's cradling you in his arms.

• He's gentle with you, as he quite literally sprints you to the nearest medical bay.

• "Get out all of you!"

• He barks at the droids, not trusting them to fix what cannot be undone. Certain that he'll be able to save you.

• He's frantic in his attempts to patch you up, almost unaware of the way you gently touch his arm.

• Grievous froze in an instant when you weakly called out his name, his attention now solely on your face, cupping your hand in two of his.

• "What do you need treasure?"

• He asked in a soft voice, ignoring how his voice shook with emotion.

• You simply smiled at him, as if taking in the sight of him was all you cared about in that moment.

• "I-I lo-ve-"

• You tried croaking out, only for your breath to be stolen as you slipped away, dying before his very eyes, trying to declare your love one last time.

• The very ground shook with his scream of despair and heart retching agony.

• From that moment on he took out every ounce of pain and anger at losing you on anyone he deemed a threat.

• Sometimes even on innocent people, who would unknowingly remind him of you.

• He fought dirty and ruthlessly, uncaring if he would get himself killed, or if he would even succeed.

• Grievous also travelled far and wide across the galaxy in an attempt to find some way to bring you back to life.

• He cared not for whatever it might cost, or what he might have to do, who he would have to kill.

• If there is a way he can bring you back, he'll find a way, not matter how long it takes.

----------------------------

[cowboygenesis]

12: terroir | kylo ren x reader

part 12 of the "bump it, cool it" series: masterlist. | playlist

pairing: [modern!au] kylo ren x reader chapter warnings: mentions of chronic disease (cancer). word count: 4.8k series summary: when your roommate’s older brother needs a place to crash, you begrudgingly offer up your couch— only to realize he’s the most insufferable, entitled asshole you’ve ever met. the worst part? you can’t seem to stop thinking about him. notes: lord, have i been at an impasse. sorry for the late update y'all, writer's block has been kicking my ass this past month. chapter 12 was gonna be much longer than 4k, but i realized that the scene ended pretty perfectly as is so i just split it. ngl, i'm not super proud of this one but hey.

Now Playing: Crust - Flying Lotus

Steam loops behind the bar, rolling in thick waves toward the wooden cabinets above. Soft, vaguely distinguishable music hums through an unplaceable speaker, harmonizing with the whirr of an automatic grinder.

Your nostrils fill with the robust, all-encompassing scent of roasted beans. As you tilt your speckled mug in chase of a sip, the hot liquid rolls down your tongue in a thin, aromatic stream.

But all you can taste is cigarettes.

The memory comes to you easily, sharp and visceral in its clarity. His soft mouth on yours, the heat of his palm against your cheek, and the low, guttural noise he made when you kissed him back. How his hands skimmed over you like he was relearning something he'd known in another life; how your thighs clenched and burned at the gentle peppering of bites against your neck, and his hips pressing into—

No.

You shake it off, swallow, and press your fingertips to your eyelids, trying to will the images away. You fled your apartment to escape these unorthodox thoughts, yet they seemed to follow you everywhere, even to the quaint cafe off West 120th.

The plan? Find a quiet, Kylo-less place, and occupy your sex-addled mind with something productive, like your poor, neglected thesis. Once you have produced four pages and had your plain bagel, you could continue masterminding your next steps in Operation “Kylo”.

Because those would inevitably change the course of your entire life.

When you rushed off the balcony with bitten lips this afternoon, Kylo didn’t chase. He persevered in awe-inspiring silence, letting you gather your laptop, bag, and keys and slam the door before you could change your mind.

In retrospect, you appreciated the distance. With every form of regret and confusion plaguing your body, taking your flame-ridden makeout further might have backed you into an agonizingly regretable corner. Even if that makeout is all you crave now.

But for now, you needed the distance. This, and the time to figure out whether you’d just made a massive mistake or were already too far gone to stop.

Because the problem wasn’t just Kylo.

It was Rey.

Naturally, you had considered telling her about your predicament. The burden of heartache was much easier to handle with a shoulder to cry on, yet with every suitable moment that emerged, things didn’t go your way. Whether it was a sudden intrusion from Kylo or your own uncertainty, Rey was ultimately living in blissful ignorance of your passions as you desperately felt your way through the darkness, alone.

And, even if she did know, would you be stupid enough to pursue her brother?

Kylo wasn’t made for relationships, and neither were you—at least not with someone like him, you thought. Not when he was still tangled up in his past, his pain, and all the things that made his shell so tough to crack. Meanwhile, you barely got the crumbs.

You check your phone again, taking in the broad expanse of your wallpaper and the few unimportant notifications from apps you’ve long forgotten—still, there's nothing you’re looking for there.

As your fingers tighten around ceramic, something thick and heavy begins bubbling in your chest.

He could’ve at least texted, right?

Even if it was just some dry, shitty quip, at least then you wouldn’t be stuck here, stewing in this uncertainty over a mug of overpriced coffee.

You exhale sharply, shoving it onto the table and flexing your fingers over your laptop. The bright screen greets you with a Google Doc, mocking you with its white void.

“Fuck me,” you huff, toying with the spacebar like it’ll give you something.

Your thesis is due in less than three months, and you haven’t even started on a conclusion. You were a proficient writer, and assignments like these usually came to you with ease. This time, you had the misfortune of harboring a massive, gorgeous distraction wherever you went.

You type out a few placeholders to break the silence, worrying your lip between your teeth as they fill the page.

The copper doorbell hanging over the entryway rings in your ears, rustled by the front door opening. It comes in tandem with a low, saccharine laugh and the clatter of heels against wood.

You’re not sure what prompts you to look up.

A pair of office workers stands in line by the counter, clad in pristinely fitted grey and blue; a man and a woman. You think they might be a couple.

Maybe it’s a strike of boredom or the air of luxury surrounding them, but your eyes can’t help but persevere. You watch them quietly, taking in the playful touches and lingering gazes. Their professional mein makes them stand out like sore, overdressed thumbs amidst a sea of regular people.

The red-haired man grins in a proud showcase of his pearly whites, urging the woman to lash her head back with a hearty giggle.

Your breath catches as the sound envelops your brain with painful familiarity.

Your hands go clammy, throat tight with disbelief. It takes a breath for you to weigh down on reality, but with a severe, verifying squint of your eyes, her silhouette quickly becomes unmistakable.

Sienna.

The sight of her lands somewhere deep in your gut, a slow-spreading, molten thing that burns down your throat. You doubt she’d recognize you, but somehow the mere possibility of that, the thought of her walking around completely unknowing to the damage she left behind, unreels your temper and stiffens your limbs.

The woman smooths her shiny, flaxen locks with her palm. When her hip shifts against the counter, you catch a glimpse of her bright, emerald orbs squinting with fervor.

Yours burn with loathing. It’s indescribeable, unfound, and completely inappropriate, but the sensation is powerful enough to prickle your digits. You tell yourself it’s a natural reaction to an unjust act, but deep down, something softer tugs at the strings of your hammering heart.

For him.

She doesn’t look haunted. She doesn’t seem like she regrets a thing.

And if you were completely off your rockers, you’d confront her. With a loud, accusatory lilt, you’d size her up and with an uncouth pain in your voice finally ask: ‘Why?’

Why did she feel entitled to break something so readily fragile?

But it wasn’t your place to ask. It wasn’t your place to seek closure for wounds that weren’t even yours to begin with. And yet.

The burning in your chest should have been enough to keep you rooted to your seat, to make you stay the hell out of it and mind your business until they left. But just as it starts to flicker and die, something else takes its place—something colder and sharper, engulfing your body with prickles of frost.

A terrible, impossible thought.

You weren’t sure how to feel about fate. But Sienna, standing there like a ghost in broad daylight, broke through all the odds of the universe merely to offer you this chance.

A chance to make you understand.

Not the infidelity or the aftermath. Not why Kylo hadn’t sought another relationship, or why he had kept you at arm’s length for so long. You wanted to understand him. His walls, his silences, the way he carried himself like a man who had spent his whole life waiting to be abandoned times again.

And that alone is what makes you stand up.

Your chair scrapes against the wooden floor, loud enough to earn a few half-curious glances from nearby tables, but you don’t notice. Your legs feel unsteady, like your body is questioning its own decision, and yet you never stop moving.

You weave through the maze of chairs and low conversation, your pulse hammering.

Sienna doesn’t see you coming. She’s too caught up in her conversation, leaning toward her companion with an effortless, masterful smile, her fingers curling lightly around the strap of her designer bag.

But you’ve been unlucky all day, and finally, fate has decided to turn the tables. The queue steps forward, urging the red-headed man to turn away and begin his order.

Separated, Sienna steps away toward an empty table. Then, as if sensing the weight of your stare, she turns.

For a brief, electric moment, her expression flickers to something visceral before she smooths it away with a sharp inhale.

She remembers you. And yet, she says nothing.

Your stomach knots, but you push past it, stopping just short of the table she occupies.

“Sienna?”

It’s not a greeting. It’s a challenge.

The woman blinks, then exhales a quiet sigh, adjusting the hem of her blouse. She doesn’t feign ignorance or plead silence. Instead, she waits, meeting your gaze with soft daggers.

Your fingers curl against your palm, pressing into the soft flesh as your breath becomes steady again.

“Got a minute?”

You catch her hesitate. Her eyes flicker toward her companion, then the barista preparing their drinks. You think she’s calculating an escape plan.

Then, with a barely-there sigh, she nods. “Alright.”

She quickly saunters toward the bar again, leaning against the redhead’s ear and whispering something incoherent. The two of them briefly turn toward you in tandem, sizing you with sharp, piercing eyes. You don’t smile. The man’s lips flatten, and he nods.

And just like that, you have her.

Sienna gives you a simple nod, like she’s been approved to conduct an interview or, more grimly, subject herself to an interrogation. Without a word, you motion toward your table: a quiet, tucked-away spot near the window. She follows.

Your pulse is a hammer in your chest.

She moves toward the table with deft grace, heels clicking softly against the wood. You follow, feeling more and more like you’re striding into something you could never live down. The consequence of your choice suddenly dawns on you, moistening your forehead.

She sits first, crossing her toned legs, her posture straight and immaculate. It’s a little on the nose, but you believe she could be a model in her spare time. Up close, it’s easy to admire her glowy skin and effortless confidence without looking too hard. She’s beautiful, and you think any man or woman could fall for her with ease. Pitifully, Kylo had to be her chosen.

You slide into the chair across from her, suddenly feeling smaller than you’d like as you shut your laptop with unplanned stringency.

Sienna exhales through her nose and rests an elbow on the table, fingers grazing her jaw like she’s short on time or simply bored with your antics before you even utter.

She speaks your name, letting it trickle off her tongue with strange benevolence. “What do you want to know?”

Right to the point, yet maintaining a semblance of civility. You imagine her sitting at a meeting, charming her coworkers with that very elegance. This was a woman who got exactly what she wanted, you could tell.

“You know my name?” you question simply, maintaining a neutral, nearly professional mein.

This question, after all, was a product of genuine curiosity. In your head, there was no way to reason her knowledge without considering Kylo as part of the equation. When you consider his mentioning you in conversation, it makes your heart flutter. You could only hope it was in a positive—or at the very least neutral—light.

“And naturally,” Sienna shrugs, “you know mine.”

She tilts her head in survey of your form. Her gaze rakes curiously over your upper half, and suddenly, you regret wearing your simple, rag-tag sweatsuit while she dons fine silks. Seriously, you wouldn’t even be surprised if that blouse was pure silk.

Your gaze catches a head of fiery locks moving toward a table, sporting two steaming cups. He sets it down, swiftly adjusting the spoons to sit straight against the plates.

Sienna’s brows furrow at your drifting attention.

“That man you’re with,” you trail, the woman’s head twisting to briefly spot her companion. “Is that—”

“Armitage,” she interrupts promptly, leaning back into her chair. She must have spotted the query in your eyes when her lips twist into a simple, non-threatening smile. “Friend from the office.”

You have no choice but to believe her. Even if you were right in your fears, and this ‘Armitage’ was her lover, you’d have nothing more to say. Arresting your crush’s ex for questioning was one thing—critiquing her current relationships was another.

“Right.”

Satisfied with your simple, dry reaction, Sienna sighs deeply. Her body moves forward, hands clasping against the table.

“Look,” she starts flatly, catching your gaze with a half-hearted scowl. “I know why you stopped me.”

You raise an eyebrow, pursing your lips when you lean forward, too. At this proximity, you catch a waft of her floral perfume. “Elucidate me.”

She sighs again, measuring your expression with a slow, languid look.

“It’s about Ben, right?”

With that simple word alone, your skin sets ablaze. Nails dig into your palms, shoulders heaving once with the weight of your breath.

How dare she use his name like that? So casually, so negligently—without a single care for what she’s caused and what it’s done.

You poke the inside of your cheek, eyes narrowed with scorn. The words fall from your lips like a mild poison.

“Why’d you do it?”

Sienna’s eyebrow lifts, eyeing you with measured confusion. You’re unsure if it’s aimed at your question or the sneer you now don.

“Why I cheated?” she asks, her lips tilted into a dubious smirk.

You nod, swallowing thickly when her expression turns flat. You couldn’t dig for her feelings if you tried, and you’re not sure you’d even like to considering the possible blight of what you’d find.

She raises her forearms, chin cradled. You watch her eyes flicker up, then sideways.

“For the same reason anyone cheats,” she answers after a beat, connecting your gazes. When you stay silent, she exhales slowly, taking it as a signal to elaborate.

“Ben and I were strung together by nothing but a shared apartment and some good memories,” she continues, eyes flickering away into nothing. “He was never there when I needed him most. Everything with him was shallow, even—and maybe especially, once we got engaged.”

You scrunch your nose, head shaking in disbelief. How could she be so lax about all of this?

“You had a choice.”

“I did,” she promptly nods, voice low and calculated. When her chin flicks up again, you catch the slightest glimmer of authenticity in the green of her eyes. “And I regret mine every day.”

Your heart thrums with something visceral.

“Then why?”

Sienna purses her lips, eyes flitting across your heated face.

“Listen, I don’t hold some… grand revelation to your problems, if that’s what you’re looking for.” She shakes her head, nostrils flaring when your forehead sinks. “Ben Solo is a broken man. He—”

“How can you say that?” you breathe, flailing your hand. “How can you—”

“Do you love him?”

The question hits you like a truck. A sharp, electricity-filled chill runs down your body as Sienna’s voice echoes through your skull like a lost prayer. Did you?

Did you love Kylo Ren?

“My advice?” The woman begins before you get the chance to spiral, her sharp vocals cutting through your haze. “Move on before it’s too late.”

Your lips hang ajar, hoping for a retort that never comes.

“You think you can fix him, but it’ll just cause you a world of pain,” the woman continues, taking your silence as an opportunity. Her eyes narrow, but there’s little scorn. If anything, her tone is laced with something resembling sympathy. Or pity. “In the end, you might find yourself in a repeat of what I did.”

Your brows knit low on your forehead, lip sneering with a scoff. “I could never.”

“Right.” She shakes her head, a joyless smile painting her features when she spots your hostility. Her eyes linger on you like that for a beat, absorbing your energy like it’s fuel. “I know you hate me.”

Your mouth opens again, a gasp stuck in your throat. You hated her actions, yes, but could you take it any further than that? You thought you hated Kylo, and it turned out to be a convoluted synonym for something else entirely. In truth, you didn’t know how you felt at all. That was your greatest vice.

“I don’t—”

“I know what hatred looks like,” she chuckles sardonically, toying with her perfectly manicured fingernail—the first sign of discomfort you’ve seen from her, ever. However things ended between her and Kylo, the contempt seems to linger till today. “You need to understand that I might have hurt him, yes, but I didn’t… I didn’t make him this way.”

You stay silent, letting her elaborate while thinking of something—anything to say for yourself. Nothing comes, and Sienna’s forehead creases further.

“Ben and his sister come from a difficult family,” Sienna carries, flexing her fists against the table. She shakes her head, leaning in forward once she senses your curiosity. “Did he tell you what happened with their mother?”

You flatten your lips, urging a whispered ‘no’ from your lips.

She scoffs through a bittersweet smile, tilting her head at you as if pitiful. “Of course not.”

You want to feel offended at her feigned superiority, but can’t. Sienna was the woman Kylo confided in at the end of the day, the one who knew his deepest, darkest secrets and greatest fears—and you? You were a stranger in comparison.

“Please don’t give me that look,” she suddenly sighs, eyes rolling lazily. “I almost feel bad for you.”

“Almost?” you chuckle saccharinely, unable to hide the bite in your tone.

Sienna bites her bottom lip, head tilted as she worries over an idea. You watch her silently, taking in another waft of her perfume. It’s such a stark contrast to Kylo’s: sweet, light, and powdery with something like cloves as the heart.

“I’ll tell you,” Sienna speaks suddenly, urging you out of your daze.

You watch her eyes, but catch nothing malicious. As far as you can tell, she’s serious.

“What?”

“I’ll tell you about him,” she elaborates quietly, smoothing down a few stray locks, “but I have one condition.”

You look at her skeptically, raising an eyebrow at the authenticity of her tone. It’s a strange trade-off, but it’s been a strange day altogether. You think you can handle whatever fate has in store for you at this point, and maybe more.

“Alright,” you nod, clasping your hands against the table.

Sienna watches you, gazing calmly and indistinctly. When you expect it least, she exhales sharply through her nose and shakes her head.

“Be smart about this,” she says, almost like a weak warning.

Your hands lower, nails digging into your lap. “I don’t understand.”

She tilts her head, expression softening; not with kindness, but something bordering pity. It makes your stomach twist in all the worst ways.

“It means let it go,” she says flatly, toying with a charm on her silver bangle. “For your own sake.”

Your throat tightens as you watch the silver streak with light. “Why?”

Sienna sighs. She glances toward the counter, where Armitage is still waiting for their drinks, then back at you. You wonder if she’s become impatient with your little rendezvous.

“I told you,” she murmurs, sizing you up with a narrowed gaze. “You can’t handle it.”

You shake your head, frustration mounting. What made her turn so hostile out of nowhere?

“You don’t know that.”

Sienna arches a brow, unimpressed. “Don’t I?”

The words settle like lead in your stomach.

She’s testing you. She knows exactly how deep you’ve gone, and exactly how much deeper you’re willing to go.

You swallow thickly, tracing circles against your pants. It takes a few tension-filled moments, but eventually, you manage to face her with some semblance of composure.

“Tell me about his mother.”

For a moment, Sienna merely looks at you. Her bright eyes darken with something like disappointment, tracing your face with little interest.

Then, she sighs, smoothing a hand down her thigh before speaking.

“Leia got sick when he was sixteen,” she begins slowly, straightening her posture. “Really sick.”

She doesn’t say cancer, but it hangs in the air between you. You vaguely recall Rey leaving town for weeks at a time, calling it a ‘family emergency. ’ You asked back then but never got a clear answer—Until now.

“Han took on every job he could to pay for the treatments. Late nights, weekends, side gigs… whatever,” the woman trails, looking downward. “So, naturally, he was never home.”

Your stomach twists.

“So little Ben had to step up. You know, raise Rey on his own. Make her meals, help her with homework, pick her up from school. Meanwhile, Leia was in and out of hospitals, and Han was…” she shakes her head lightly, looking at you blankly like she’s recalling an unpleasant memory. “Gone.”

You bite your lip, worrying it between your teeth until it feels raw.

“How is she now?” you croak nervously, urging a bittersweet smile onto Sienna’s face.

“Fine. Better, at least,” she sighs, furrowing her brows. “But it’s chronic. She’s gone through remission once before this.”

You nod once in polite acknowledgment, fidgeting with your hands. Sienna watches you quietly, pacing her answers with the utmost care.

“He doesn’t hate them,” she says after a moment, reading your expression. “But he resents them.”

Something tight kinks in your chest. You don’t realize you’re gripping your coffee cup too hard until the raw ceramic creaks beneath your fingers.

“And, weirdly,” the woman trails, her expression melting into something entirely undecipherable. “I guess he resents himself for it, too.”

The woman sits back, and your mind begins to reel through the silence.

Perhaps you’ve thought about it too simply. After all, Rey never revealed this fact to you, either, and strangely, you couldn’t blame her like you do Kylo.

He never told you. Not once—not even when you shrunk at his feet, begging for answers. And for the first time, you feel like your ire for him is somewhat justified.

“I’ve tried,” she murmurs, lips twitching with something sad. “To break down his walls. To fix him.”

Sienna watches you for a moment longer, then shakes her head with a joyless laugh. You’re certain now that all she feels for you is pity.

But her meaning is clear. You can’t save him. And briefly, you wonder if he ever wanted to be saved in the first place.

“My point is, I didn’t break him,” she sighs, pursing her lips with a slight shrug. Her nonchalance makes you feel like the entire point of telling this miserable story was to establish herself as guiltless, and for a second, you think you’re right. Somehow, that’s what chafes you. “I found him broken, and—”

“Broke him even more,” you cut off, asserting your tone with a sharp rasp that doesn’t go unnoticed by the woman. She stares at you for a beat, assessing you through narrowed eyes in the probable hope of getting you to back off. You don’t.

“I told you I regretted it,” she finally acquiesces lowly, softening her gaze and tilting her head. “If I could take it all back, I would. I’d keep him close. We’d get married and live a sub-par life together, eating our meals in silence and sleeping in separate bedrooms.”

Something about her words makes you feel uneasy. This whole time, you’ve felt like her advice was simply a thinly veiled threat aimed toward you and your predicament, but now? You think there might be more to it.

Sienna drops her gaze, toying with something on her hand. Once your eyes plunge with hers, you realize she’s tracing a thin, silvery band lining her ring finger.

You swallow thickly, taking in the delicate jewels lining the rim. You had noticed this band at the party before, but it’s now, up close, that your suspicions are proven right.

“Can I ask you something?”

Sienna studies you carefully, waiting to see if you’ll absorb her words or spit them back at her.

You sigh against the weight in your throat, collecting your frayed nerves enough to pose yourself as comfortable. The woman studies you closely, flitting across your face as if trying to spot a weakness.

“Why do you call him Ben?”

Her expression doesn’t change, but something in her shoulders tightens. She stops toying with her ring, letting that fist squeeze until her knuckles go white.

“Because that’s who he is.” She says it like it’s obvious, her voice bordering on a scoff. “Kylo’s just a name he hides behind.”

You furrow your brows, taking in the uncommon wistfullness of her tone. “He introduces himself as Kylo.”

She nods, almost to herself. A smile curls on her lips, but it vanishes before you can gauge its authenticity. “Yeah. I guess he does.”

When she looks at you, you feel your cheeks drain of color.

The woman’s eyes blaze brilliantly, flickering with a full pallette of conflicting emotions. They flit across you blankly, like she’s committing your picture to memory for simple safekeeping and nothing more. It’s robotic but raw and makes the hairs on your neck stand on end.

But before you can press further, Sienna exhales sharply and stands, smoothing the front of her blouse. You realize your ears have been ringing.

“Well, this was fun,” she says softly, though there’s no real humor in it. Her expression bounces back to her usual state of professionalism, adjusting the strap of her bag with a soft hum when she faces you. “Good luck, then.”

You blink up at her, startled at the bizarre pacing. “That’s it?”

She shrugs, dusting off her pencil skirt. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think this conversation meant nothing to her. The tremor in her hands betrays this notion.

“I told you what you wanted to know.”

Your eardrums pulse with the soft din of nearby conversation. A beat passes, and your gaze still dwells on hers.

Then, without thinking, you say, “And what if I don’t listen?”

For the first time since she sat down, Sienna really looks at you. She leans in just slightly, two pools of green pinning you with a definite zeal.

“Then I hope you know what you’re doing.”

With that, she turns on her heel and walks toward the counter. You vaguely catch her plucking her drink from the redhead’s hand without a word, looking up at him with a smile entirely alien to you.

He glances between you two, brows furrowing briefly, but before you catch his lips move, Sienna is already making her way toward the door.

She never looks back. And somehow, your body crawls with the bizarre, involuntary notion that this was the first and last conversation you’d ever share.

You sit there, heart pounding, fingers curled tight around your lukewarm coffee. You feel the divots of the handle under your fingers, tracing them absentmindedly as if that alone could anchor you in place.

You’ve obtained another puzzle piece. As you watch Armitage nod at you in goodbye, the connection you make with it hits you like a cold tidal wave.

This was never Kylo’s fault.

Every time he pulled away, every time he chose silence over honesty, it wasn’t because he wasn’t enough—It wasn’t because you weren’t enough, or because you hadn’t chipped away at his walls hard enough, valued him well enough, or wanted him enough.

It was because he never learned how to let people stay.

And how could he?

For the first time, you picture him young. A boy with dark eyes and quiet steps, barely old enough to carry his sister, yet old enough to know he had to. You imagine him setting a small plate on the table for Rey, smoothing her hair like his mother used to, whispering promises that he was too young to keep.

You think of him staring at the front door, waiting. For his mother to get better. For his father to come home.

For something in his world to change.

And then, years later, he’s still waiting. Waiting for something—someone to prove him right.

Your breath catches, and before you can think, before you can process, your body moves.

The chair screeches against the floor as you push it back. Coffee sloshes as you shove it aside. Your laptop is barely zipped into your bag before you’re slinging it over your shoulder and running.

Your pulse is frantic, your feet unsteady, but you don’t stop. You can’t.

You need to see him.

The door bursts open against the weight of your urgency, and then you’re outside, the city air slapping against your face with the sound of that little copper bell.

You don’t catch it over the sound of Ben’s name on your lips.

[pinkykats-place]

Armitage Hux x Reader

AO3 Star Wars Fic Recs

Disclaimers!

None of the stories below are mine.

Some contain mature content.

Read tags. Check Ratings.

Note: If you read any of these stories and like them please let the author know with a kudos and/or comment!

Beautiful by orphan_account

Summary: Armitage Hux has taken a wife. Unfortunately for you, you're his new bride. You're trying to battle your fast growing feelings for your husband, but your apprehension is fading faster and faster.

Contains Smut

Complete | 7 Chapters

safety by moonlitcavern

Summary: A two-part hux x reader in which hux shows up at your quarters bleeding and exhausted and perhaps on the verge of an emotional breakdown.

Complete | 2 Chapters | Fluff

Fragile Trust, Fragile Love by KiaraKohana

Summary: Armitage Hux had grown up in a world where he was told not to trust anyone, so why did he seem to let his guard down around you? He felt safe for the first time in decades- perhaps in his entire life. He trusted you. But little did he know there's a lot more to you than what meets the eye.

Complete | 13 Chapters

Cats and Commands by TheJediCode

Summary: You are in training as a communications officer aboard the Finalizer. When you are an assigned an unusual task by your superior officer, you find yourself face to face with one of the most formidable officers in the First Order, who isn't at all what you expect.

Complete | 8 Chapters

Rated - General Audiences

Good Samaritan by CatchYouInTheRye

Summary: Your superior Armitage Hux seems to be having a bad day and you suddenly have the urge to fix that.

Complete | 2 Chapters

Rated - Explicit

That Kind of Love by Irma7x

Summary: Trying to break free of the control that ruled his everyday life, Hux asks for you to try something different together in the bedroom. You carry it through on his birthday.

{One Shot}

Rated - Explicit

Nova Girls by LostLaureate

Summary: An unauthorized transmission from inside the ship.

DATA BREACH: holo-feed.novagirls/cstream/7786-5548283404

“Oh Kriff! I’m so close!”

Had he been in worse health, the sudden 62 inches of ass that filled the entirety of his holo display would have been enough to give him a coronary.

Hux x Cam-Girl Reader

WIP | 5/? Chapters

Rated - Mature

Let Me Take Care Of You by selfinserttrash

Summary: You were a Hall Girl. A glorified errand monkey, you deliver datapads and fetch sandwiches for the most important men in the First Order. You've been reassigned to General Hux's sector, and you quickly find out that he's not as easily impressed as most of the men aboard the Finalizer. One day, you see something you're not meant to, and it ignites something entirely new within you.

After all, you know what they say, the fastest way to a man's heart is through his stomach.

Incomplete | 5/? Chapters

Last Updated 2018

Rated - Mature

The Crown by bananakin

Summary: "Chin up, darling," your mother had bitten out with her dying breath, "or the crown will slip."

OR in which a female reader ends up bound to General Hux (and in turn, the First Order) in matrimony.

Incomplete | 26/? Chapters

Last updated 2019

The Temptations of a Kitchen Woman by nelliespector (ilmv)

Summary: Kylo Ren has made a sport out of bothering General Hux. The Supreme Leader is sure Armitage shares Brendol's weaknesses. To prove it, Ren takes away the protocol droid that normally prepares Hux's meals and replaces it with an irresistible Arkanisian kitchen woman who is also required to share the General's bed every night. How long can a sexually frustrated Hux hold out? Can his desire to prove Kylo wrong prevail over... plain ol' desire?

Incomplete | 15/? CH | Contains Smut

Last updated March 2022

[itscatchyouintherye]

You lose some, you win some [ReaderxGeneralHux]

Ren tries to humiliate Hux in front of you by revealing an embarrassing detail. It gives you an idea Ren did not intend and Hux did not dare to dream of.

The bridge is busy, lots of shouting, lots of rushing. You do your best to stay calm and somehow manage ten lines of communication at once. It feels like you’re barely blinking while you basically attack the screen in front of you with command after command. You don’t lift your head for most of the time and only acknowledge information shouted your way with a nod or occasionally a thumbs up if it came from across the room.

You’re second in command on the bridge, after General Hux. Well, if you count Snoke and Ren, maybe fourth? That also does not account for Phasma…First Order ranks are obscure. Practically, it means, either way, that when Hux isn’t here, you’re the one who oversees the bridge. You would also argue that you’re doing a lot more than overseeing. Other than the aloof General, you are actually hands on. Which is what earned you the respect of the other officers – sometimes to Hux’ annoyance, because even when he is on the bridge, officers tend to talk to you first anyway.

Ren, on the other hand, finds it amusing. He does not explicitly appreciate you, but he also never has thrown you against a wall…or questioned your standing. To put it differently: he values your commitment that has the welcome side effect of pissing Hux off by proxy.

It made it ever more puzzling to him when he realized that you were not disrespecting Hux but flirting with him. Well, what started at teasing, turned into flirting. Because your body’s reaction to Hux shooting you an exasperated look made you realize that you like nothing more than for him to be worked up because of you.

Hux realized that recently as well and plays into it, you are sure of it. For him, what started as being agitated turned into being aroused. At least that’s what his flushed cheeks and Ren’s eyerolls insinuated.

Even though it was something you are excited to achieve, you don’t really know how to handle it. Hux and you are now more or less openly flirting with each other, but don’t talk outside of work at all or ever were alone with each other.

Today, Ren gives you the final push when he obviously intended the absolute opposite to happen.

It happens when you finally look up from your screen after what surely has to be at least two hours. You do so, because Hux approaches to tell you: “They found the outpost.”

You turn to him: “Thank fuck.”

“Language.”

“My apologies, General.”

The corners of his mouth twitch.

Before either of you can say anything else, Ren comes storming in.

“Why wasn’t I informed?!”

Irritated, Hux looks at him: “Weren’t you chasing that sand rat?”

“Careful.” Ren walks right up to him. They stare each other down. You enjoy the tension for a long moment before you defuse it by telling him: “We just got the confirmation, Sir. Noone is to approach before you give the order or fly there yourself.”

Surprisingly, he barely seems to register your words.

Instead, he keeps his eyes on Hux. Then they dart to you for a second and back to the General whose face suddenly contorts in discomfort.

“Out…of my head, Ren!”

“What are you so desperately trying to hide? A little inappropriate dream or…oh my!” He starts to grin.

“Don’t you dare!” Hux points at him.

“Would you please tell me what’s going on?” You throw your hands up, irritated that they engage in this pissing contest instead of focusing on the mission.

“Gladly.” Ren smiles brightly and turns to you.

“Ren!” Hux’ warning has absolutely no effect on him, and he goes on: “The General hasn’t made any advances because…how do I put it?”

“Ren!” Hux shouts, now sounding actually desperate.

“He is seriously worried an encounter would end…prematurely.”

You mouth falls open.

Aghast, Hux stares at Ren. And then terrified at you.

The three of you stand in silence for a long, very long, moment. Ren clearly relishing it. Hux obviously loathing it. You, however, have a picture in your head so explicit and obscene that it makes you flinch.

Satisfied with the situation he created, Ren gives you a nod and then simply leaves for the hangar.

“I-, I-“ Hux looks at you, back on the floor, and back at you. “Please excuse me.” He says and basically sprints to the exit of the bridge.

You have to blink several times until the realization catches up to you, leaving you flabbergasted.

“Good gods.” You whisper shout at no one in particular.

Shaking your head, trying to get rid of the phantasy this information evoked, you turn back to your screen.

“Everything alright, Lieutenant?” An officer calls from the next workstation.

You honestly don’t know how to answer that and simply give him a tightlipped smile before telling him: “Make sure that Ren doesn’t go rogue but has some fighters accompanying him.”

“Yes, Ma’am.”

You stare at the requests piling up on your virtual desk. Some of them, you would have to talk to Hux about. Well, you planned on asking him about as soon as he arrived on the bridge…

You cannot, you simply cannot shake the idea that popped into your head. Even after your shift, or rather especially then, you think about it. About Hux under you. About him desperately panting, trying his best to hold it off, really trying…but it’s just too much for him, and-

After pacing for exactly one minute, you grab your datapad and request Hux to come to your quarters. You considered showing up at his, but this way it leaves him the dignity of coming over on his own accord. He could ignore it. He could just delete the request and see you tomorrow on the bridge, put his stern face back on and pretend that nothing happened.

To your delight, however, he arrives at your quarters shortly thereafter.

You take a deep breath and let the door slide open. Visibly nervous, Hux stands right on the other side, having a hard time to look you in the eyes.

You gesture for him to come in and he walks past you. You notice how tightly he has his hands clutched behind his back.

After you locked the door, he speaks up: “Listen-“

“Is it true? What Ren said.” You interrupt.

Hux’ lets out a choked noise and averts eye contact once again.

Somewhat nervous yourself, you walk up to him. You give him another second to compose himself and maybe come up with a lie, but he doesn’t.

Not touching him, you lean in and murmur: “It is, isn’t it?”

Hux shivers. You smile to yourself and lean even closer. So close that he can feel your breath when you add: “Tell me. I’d like to know.”

“Why?” His voice is barely a whisper, and he has to clear his throat. “Why would you want to know that? To humiliate me? To have something to-“

You kiss the side of his neck. Your lips just barely ghosting over his skin. Hux gulps. Slowly, you trail kisses up to his jaw. When you’re close to his lips, you lean back to tell him: “Because it turns me on, that’s why.”

His eyes widen in disbelieve: “What?”

“I think you heard me just fine.”

“I…what?” He sounds like his brain just short-circuited.

You purse your lips, waiting for him to process what you told him. To actually react.

Hands suddenly clasping your face, he does. With a groan, he smashes his lips onto yours.

You breathe out a surprised oh! and then kiss him back.

Letting your hands wander all over Hux, you pry his mouth open to push your tongue into his mouth. He welcomes it with another groan and pulls you closer, flush against his body.

“Stars…fuck…” He mumbles between kisses, making you restless in his arms.

Panting, you tell him: “Bedroom is that way.” As you walk him in that direction. More than willingly, he follows your lead.

As soon as you have him sat on your bed, you start to open his jacket and urge him to strip. His uniform pants, however, you make him keep on by grabbing his hand when he goes for his belt.

Confused, he looks at you.

“Ever since…all I could think about the rest of the day is…” You bite your bottom lip and take off your top instead of finishing your sentence.

Hux drags his eyes over your chest, lingering on your bra.

Without further ado, you straddle him, immediately feeling his hard-on press against your crotch. He inhales sharply at the added pressure and claws into your hips. Grinding down on him, you put your hand on the side of his face and kiss him deeply. He bucks up into you, and you sigh at his dick rubbing against your clit through your pants.

You reach down and palm his dick as you bite his bottom lip. He moans and scratches down your back before grabbing your tits. You squeeze his dick, making him curse loudly.

“Language.” You whisper with a smirk.

“Fuck off.” Hux replies and kisses you greedily.

You open your mouth and let him take charge of the kiss, tilting your head the way he moves it gently by grabbing your chin.

When you find the tip of his dick pressing against the fabric and run your thumb over it, he inhales sharply. “I- do you actually want-“ He stammers, making sounds more delicious than you could have ever daydreamed.

“Yes.” You tell him, widely turned on and surely drenching wet.

“Good gods…” He breathes out and moves his hips to meet the strokes of your hand.

While he bites into the soft skin of your chest to muffle his moans, you go back to grinding down on him, dragging your clothed cunt over his twitching shaft. It offers you at least a little relief and you cannot help but let out one or two moans yourself.

“Shit…I-please…” He looks up at you. “I can’t, I have to, please…”

“Go on.” You murmur and move your hips faster as you snake your arms around him, resting one hand on the back of his neck to keep him close, devouring him with hungry kisses.

“Fuck…” Now he bites into your bottom lip, quite hard.

Then he tenses and grunts and stop thrusting up against you.

You roll your hips a few more times before you still and lean your cheek against his temple while he catches his breath.

Then you scoot back a bit so that you can look down and see the wet spot in his pants. It makes you clench around nothing, intoxicated by what just happened.

Leaning his forehead against your chest, Hux lets out a chuckle. You smile and run your fingers through his hair.

“This is certainly one way to be intimate for the first time.” He tells you.

After a pause, he leans back to be able to look at you. His eyes are glazed over and his pupils still wide. You smile at him and press another gentle kiss to his lips.

“I cannot wait for Ren to see this the next time he probes into my brain.”

You raise an eyebrow.

“I mean, no! Not like that! I just mean that now…”

You laugh and stroke his cheek: “It’s fine. But don’t let him see what we’ll do the rest of the night.”

“You want me to stay over?”

“You want to leave?”

“No! Of course not, I-“

“Armitage Hux…it is confusingly arousing when you’re stumbling over your words.”

“Really?” “Oh yeah.”

“I can certainly keep that up.” He kisses your neck and then adds: “I really need to take off my pants now though.”

“Speaking of. How do you plan on getting back to your quarters tomorrow? Walk the base with cum-stained pants?”

Hux grins: “Looks like I will have to stay forever.”

“How terrible!”

He pushes you over and lays down on top of you, his hand wandering towards your crotch.

“Truly an awful fate.”

[helpinghanikan]

Star wars: Kinktober 2023

Day 2: Demdning (Hux)

Kinktober Masterlist

He doesn’t outright say it, but you can tell when Hux has a need.

His attitude, as bad as it usually was, would be worse. The day was spent with an almost cloud over his head. The way he walked around the ship screamed that he was looking for a fight. Those who could avoid him did, and those who couldn’t just do their best to stay quiet.

Eventually, he, and everyone around him, couldn’t stand it. That cloud of attitude followed him as he ventured to your department. A place he never really needed to be, save for an important reason.

“With me.” Your ginger superior orders as he passes by.

You are clearly in the middle of something. Surrounded by four lieutenants who just watched your briefing be interrupted. This was both a sign of urgency and a power play on Hux’s part. A play that you’ve learned to go along with, less you don’t get a treat at the end of the game.

“I want reports sent by the end of the hour.” You stated to your team before following.

He walks a few feet ahead. Not bothering to look behind him when you were always so obediently following without needing to be checked.

It’s your office that he heads into. Waiting for the door to close before he was on you.

“No time,” He says, holding your face as though you would escape otherwise. “Take off your pants, your panties. I want them all off, now.”

He’s always been someone who treats sex like a battle or a war. Planning out the act beforehand, waiting for the right moment, and then striking with a ferocity that leaves your head spinning. This time around his kiss came with a bite that you couldn’t help but respond to.

You do as he says, what else could be expected from a loyal subordinate? Doing all the work to get your pants down, panties following quickly after.

Hux wasn’t the strongest man in the First Order, but he was in the running to be the most persuasive. Not just in his words but in his actions and movement. Like holding the back of your hair and adding just enough pressure to guide your movements back and around. Pushing face down onto the desk.

For a second you are left alone over the desk. Hux groans as he opens his own pants and guides himself against you. No time for anything too sweet, like being close, only thrusting himself forward without any warning. Had it not been for your own excitement it might have been painful.

The act of sex with Hux is a selfish one. When one needs something then the other better be prepared for it. This was the agreement you had at the beginning of the relationship. You’ve made use of it more than a few times, so it’s only fair that you do the same for him. Even if that means sticking your ass in your air for him to pound into.

[masterjedilenawrites]

In Other Words: Chapter 4

< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter >

Hux x fem!reader | 2k words

Content warnings: Cursing, discussions of death/killing, Hux being generally awkward 🥁

Note: What do you mean it's been 16 months since the last chapter? *insert Jennifer Lawrence meme here* 😭

Your first official day on the job as Hux's personal assistant was rough... to say the least. Armed with nothing but your access badge and a vague idea of what these rounds should entail, you fumbled through the entire ordeal, starting by getting lost trying to locate each department's headquarters and ending on sour notes with each of the department heads, half of whom didn't believe Hux had a new assistant already, and the other half clearly fearing the man too much to give any honest or genuine answers. Either way, you didn't have any information worth putting into a report, and your fears of being the next assistant in an apparently long line of failures seemed that much closer to coming true.

And so that's how you ended up in a supply closet at one in the morning with your best friend.

You were still upset with her, of course, but you needed to be with a familiar face. Hear a familiar voice. Preferably one that didn't recite some fake platitudes or snidely dismiss you. Nat may have been a little insane, bringing you here, but you knew she still cared. In her own way.

"Fuck them," she said. You leaned against shelves on opposite walls of the only private space you could find on short notice, a supply closet down the hall from the maintenance bunks. Both of your arms were crossed, the one sign there was any lingering beef between you.

"Fuck all of these motherfuckers," she kept going. "Fuck General Hux, fuck the interrogation droids, fuck that technician prick who stole my socks this morning..."

"Fuck Sergeant Beloch?" you asked with a knowing look.

"Not yet," Nat threw back a salacious smirk.

You didn't have the energy to roll your eyes but your face must have still shown your lack of amusement.

"Hey, I really mean it. Fuck 'em all."

You made yourself swallow and choose your next words carefully. "Interesting perspective to have, given the fact you chose to come here."

Nat was silent. Her eyes were trained in your direction but you could tell she wasn't really looking at you. She was lost in her own head, a place she hated being in but couldn't help traveling to every so often, usually because you made her. Sometimes she came out of it even more wild and angry, other times it made her realize a few important things. You wondered what it was going to be this time.

"I know you're expecting an apology," she eventually said, her eyes refocusing onto yours. "But I'm not giving you one. I did the right thing. I saved our lives."

"You made us bow down to the enemy. You do know that's what our friends and families saw, right? We could've died standing our ground and instead--"

"I didn't make you do anything," she spat back. "You were more than welcome to make some heroic last stand or whatever on your own. But you didn't. You went along with my plan, and that was your choice."

"Like I was going to abandon you."

"And like I was going to let you die."

You were both silent now, staring at each other as you realized that while each of you fully understood the other person, you would never agree with their choice.

"We can't just fuck them," you finally whispered, getting back to the original topic. "We have to work with them."

"Or work to undermine them." Nat pushed off of her perch and started pacing around the small supply closet, pretending to be interested in some of the items on the shelves.

You, meanwhile, couldn't help but look behind you in paranoia, as if Hux himself was on the other side of the wall and listening in on everything.

"Think about it," Nat continued. "We're on the inside, surrounded by intel everyone else can only dream about. If we can just find a way to transmit it, or get ourselves off this bloody ship and tell the Resistance directly...."

"That's so dangerous," you shook your head. "If we were caught..."

"We'd be killed." Nat turned back around to face you with a look that dared you to challenge her. "Which, if I recall, was what you preferred to have happen anyway."

You bit your tongue, literally, to keep yourself from responding to her charged comment. Barely a minute into this unspoken agree-to-disagree arrangement and you were back at it again. If Nat wasn't willing to let it go, you would have to. For the sake of both your sanity's. And your lives.

"Why do you think Hux asked to have one of us be his assistant?" you decided to take a different approach. "Don't you think he, or anyone else who knows about us for that matter are watching? Waiting for us to give any hint that we're spying?"

Nat shrugged, already bored now that you weren't putting up the fight she wanted. "Nothing like a good challenge. Besides, it's not like you have any other options here. You either beat them or join them. Up to you."

She made for the door, pausing with her hand hovering by the control panel. Her shoulders lowered slightly and she looked back over at you with an odd look.

"Whatever you decide, we're in this together. Right?"

You realized she was worried. Maybe even afraid. Your fearless friend, always diving into the deep end without ever testing the waters, acting first and justifying herself later... and yet, she still needed a friend.

You just wished she could see you needed one, too.

"Of course," you said.

* * *

Hux rubbed at his jaw as he marched down to the bridge. Somehow the stiffness there had started feeling more painful than his persistent headaches. It would be annoying if he didn't have so much else to deal with.

Snoke had given Ren a fucking fortnight to investigate who had given him bad intel. That meant up to two weeks of unrestricted access to everything and everyone on the ship. And considering how Ren had removed his helmet just to show off the self-satisfied smirk on his ugly mug, Hux was certain the asshole would milk it. Take his time. Start with the least suspecting officer and pick them off one by one, just to get under Hux's skin.

Well, Hux wasn't going to have it. Not this time. No, he'd conduct a little investigation of his own. He suspected ineptitude; one of the junior officers who were always too eager to run with the first promising lead before fully vetting it out. All he'd need to do was offer leniency, at least more than they'd get from the rabid Force user, maybe threaten their careers just a little bit, and he'd get a confession much sooner than Ren.

To give himself even more of a head start, he'd also do a quick sweep of their work stations, just in case the offender was even more dumb about it and left behind some evidence. A downloaded file. An improperly deleted message. Heck, a handwritten note with coordinates to Clonu wouldn't be out of the question. Idiots always left behind breadcrumbs, and Hux always sniffed them out.

Even in the middle of the night in his pajamas.

He was a few turns away from the bridge when he ran into his assistant. He couldn't help his sudden intake of breath just as she let out a surprised gasp of her own. They stood a few feet apart in stunned silence for several agonizing seconds.

"What in hells are you doing?" Hux, of course, was the first to break, having every right to reprimand given the circumstance. She self-consciously clutched at the sweater she had wrapped around her standard issue nightclothes; Hux pulled at his own cloak, even though it was already covering most of his black silken pajamas.

"I was visiting my friend, sir" she said around a gulp.

"In the middle of the night?"

Her eyes lowered, though it seemed more out of embarrassment than fear. He wasn't catching her in a lie, he didn't think. Still, with everything going on, a wandering assistant with unknown motives was the last thing he needed.

"It's been hard to sleep, sir," she said in a low voice. Her eyes flicked back up to meet his briefly. He could probably guess at the meaning. Endless nights of interrogation. A stressful first day on the job. A bunk that was just uncomfortable enough. All of the above...

Hux rubbed at his jaw again as he sighed.

"Well... I still expect you punctual and alert in the morning, so... you'd better work that out."

He laughed internally while she nodded, oblivious to the irony of his words. He had been surviving years off an irregular sleep schedule. He wasn't sure anymore if it was his anxiety or spite that kept him going.

What kept her going? Her friend? Her mysterious reasons for being here?

"Yes, of course, sir."

"General," he grumbled.

"General," she mumbled.

They stared at each other for a long moment. It wasn't so tense as it was... awkward. She wasn't leaving. Nor was he, but he had essentially given her a directive to go work out her sleep problem. Did he really need to formally dismiss her? She had interrupted him.

Hux couldn't decide if he felt angry or sick in this unpleasant moment. Had he made a mistake, letting this pair of defectors aboard? Making one of them his own personal assistant? Was the experiment more trouble than it was worth? He'd barely had any time to pay it attention, getting swept up instead by this asinine situation with Ren. An actual assistant, well-versed in Order ongoings and with clear motivations, would've benefited him greatly right now. He could delegate some of these tasks, shift the blame if he was ever called into question for it...

"Are you alright?"

Hux wanted to frown at the sudden question but found he already was. He hadn't noticed how deep into thought he'd gone. The woman had apparently taken his scowling silence as some sort of indication that he was not, quote, "alright."

And since he wasn't immediately responding, too busy huffing in annoyance and massaging his jaw again, she went ahead and kept speaking.

"I mean, you're also awake and...." She faltered, unsure of an appropriate word. She settled for gesturing at the random hallway they found themselves sharing and continued. "Is there anything I can assist you with?"

Hux stiffened. Had she read his mind? Gods, it was too late for such nonsense.

"No," he said curtly. "I'm..."

He was going to say fine but stopped himself from giving her the satisfaction. It was none of her business how he was, even if it helped her figure out how to fulfill her duties as an assistant. Which would've required her to be genuine in her inquiry. Which she wasn't. Most likely. Maybe.

"You're dismissed," he stated instead.

She gave a sort of sad, resigned smile and nodded. "Yes. General."

He didn't step out of the way as she passed so he caught a whiff of that awful soap they issued to the infantry. He wouldn't look after her but would wait until her footsteps petered out.

They did so only a breath later, causing him to look back after all. She had paused and seemed a little shy as she said one last thing.

"Press your tongue to the roof of your mouth."

He blinked.

She gulped.

"For your jaw pain. Press your tongue up, then open and close your jaw. It works for me, anyway. Until I can get a heat pack on it."

She gave a nod and then scurried off. Hux watched intently as she disappeared around the corner. After another beat, he finally forced himself to move, shaking his head to clear the perplexing thoughts about his assistant and reorient back to his mission. He sauntered off toward the bridge, cloak billowing behind.

Though when he next brought his hand up to his jaw, he paused and tried out the tongue technique instead. To his relief and chagrin, it worked.

In Other Words Tag: @lucyysthings, @lemongingerart, @marvel-starwars-nerd, @eternal-silvertongued-prince, @techie-bear, @nahoney22, @aconstructofamind, @savagemickey03, @aconstructofamind, @mysticwitchcraftco, @katja4406

✨Join A Tag List Here!✨

🌙 Master Master List | ☘️ Stories Master List

< Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter >

[where-dreamers-go]

I'm writing ideas for Star Wars Day and MerMay...

[goosewriting]

finals are over, you know what that means!

❇️ REQUESTS OPEN 📢🪿

» before requesting, make sure to read the rules in the pinned post as well as look over the masterlists to see what has already been written! « (for your convenience, i copied the rules down here under the cut as well!)

→ requests will remain open for: an indefinite amount of time → i only write gn!reader (seriously read the rules pls)

→ you can request for the following characters:

🐢 RotTMNT: Leo, Donnie, Raph, also their future versions! (please specify/pitch a timeline of your choice)

💫 Star Wars: Fives, Zeb Orrelios, Armitage Hux, Cal Kestis, inquisitor!Cal

🕸 Spiderverse (ITSV, ATSV): The Spot, Hobie Brown

🕷 Marvel's Spider-man (Insomniac Games): Peter Parker, Ganke Lee

please note: some of these characters are more tentative than others. i can't guarantee that i will write every request, but i'll try my best! it really depends on if it inspires me or not, and that may take some time or not happen at all. either way, thanks for sending something in<3

→ requesting rules:

only reader inserts, no OCs or canon x canon

reader is always gender neutral

reader’s ethnicity is always unspecified (as in skin colour, cultural background, etc.)

reader with specific physical traits is okay, please specify! (e.g. height, build, hair length, etc.)

mutant/non-human readers are okay, please specify!

in general, the more specific, the better!

no smut, only platonic/romantic

no blood-related reader (where the reader is the requested character's biological sibling, parent, kid, etc). sibling-like relationship through friendship/found family is ok!

no witch/sorcerer reader or demonic themes. reader with powers (think my hero academia) is ok, please specify!

only 1-2 requests per person at a time

be nice :’)

[thegreatwicked]

WIP Title Game

RULES: make a new post with the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet or tell them something about it! then tag as many people as you have WIPs.

Thanks for the tag @split-spectrum! Lord, my WIPs are not quite out of control BUT there are quite a few of them! I'll divide them up into two categories; fanfiction and original!

Fanfiction:

Armitage (Hux x OC)

In Service to the Night Sisters (Opress Brothers x OCs)

Moonlight Rendezvous (Maul x OC)

Padawan (Obi-Wan x Reader Insert)

50 Shades of Obi-Wan (Obi-Wan x Reader Insert)

Unbreakable Bonds (Obi-Wan x OC)

The Generals Wife (Hux x OC)

Take off the Mask, Baby (Roman Sionis x Reader Insert)

Healing Hands (Jason Todd x OC)

Claiming the Red Hood (Jason Todd x OC)

Bayou and the Burrow (Charlie Weasley x OC)

Read to Me (Matt Murdock x OC)

We Were Cursed (Jefferson/Mad Hatter x OC)

It's No Good (Soldier Boy x OC)

Second Son (Soldier Boy x OC)

Tribute to the Horde (Dothraki OC x OC)

1001 Nights of Mischief (Loki xOC)

Professional Courtesy (DC Captain Cold x OC)

Forgive Me (Malik x OC)

Binding (Malik x OC)

Originals:

Call Me Love

Thanks for the Ride

Eternally Yours

Dive

Not your Fucking Grieving Widow

All works listed above are smut and not meant for anyone under 18. Lord give me strength to get through these WIPs before more appear!

No pressure tags! @hereticpriest @decembermidnight @burnthecheshirewitch @keffirinne @daenerys-skywalker @chaotickimchi @viskarenvisla @maulfvckers

Lets see those WIPs!

[dckweed]

WHAT WAS I MADE FOR? general armitage hux.

summary: in Ophelia, or Ophie for short, is given to the clutches of the First Order in the form of marriage to its almighty general as collateral by her indebted father and learns that she is not simply a pretty worthless face.

warnings: arranged marriage, mentions of physical abuse, slow burn romance, dry dark humor, slightly naive reader, sunshine!reader canon typical grump!hux, eventual smut.

AESTHETICS & SERIES TAGLIST!

hey babes! this is the visual aesthetics for the WHAT WAS I MADE FOR?, my first hux (and starwars fic in general), technically a reader insert but you’re named Ophelia/Ophie for short. Also the Daphne Bridgerton aesthetic is how i imagine fashion being on Ophie’s planet! most likely will be set before the events of force awakens.

If you would like to be tagged in future posts for this series, please comment on this post!

[itscatchyouintherye]

Hit Me Where It Hurts [ReaderxGeneralHux]

An interrogation escalates. In several ways.

“Get up!” The General shouts at you.

You’re on all fours, head pounding from the slap he just delivered to your face. It was the fourth or fifth, maybe the sixth - you’re not sure at this point. Especially because you have been in a room with Hux for surely over an hour by now; and what started with stern and calculated questions, escalated to him trying to get something out of you with physical violence.

Apparently, you didn’t react quickly enough to his liking, so he rams his shin into your side, making you collapse and gasp for air.

Shielding your head, you lie on the cold ground of the interrogation room, wondering how to convince this spiteful man that you’re, in fact, not a traitor. The way he reacted the last million times of you telling him that…your future isn’t looking bright.

“Get up, you pathetic cunt!”

Hux using such vulgar language completely catches you off guard; More than any slap ever could. You look up at him, astonished.

His face is as hard as it has been since he closed the door behind you, but even he appears surprised by his own loss of composure.

The moment of stillness on Hux’ side, enables you to finally stand up and gather your thoughts. Whereas his escalating demeanor scared you before, you now begin to find it gratifying. You wipe your chin clean of the watered-down blood that dripped down. You bit your tongue, and it mixed with your saliva. You also straighten out your uniform and run your fingers through your hair. Anything to make you feel dignified. At least a little.

“I got up.” You say with the most nonchalant voice you can muster. “Now what?”

The General straightens his back and takes a step towards you. Against your efforts, it makes you flinch. A disgusting smirk tugs on his lips when he sees it.

“We’ll do this aaaaaall over again.” He tells you.

“How many times will until you believe I don’t know!”

Hux gets in your face, and you feel his breath on your neck when he snarls: “Until you beg.”

You lightly turn your head and let your eyes dart over his face and upper body. You’ve never been so close to him. At least not in a position that allows you to focus on anything but pain.

You notice the freckles on his cheeks and how truly fiery his hair is and how he’s lightly panting.

This is clearly getting to him in a way that makes him not relent. Otherwise, he would have executed you by now. Why does he insist to keep going?

“General…” You say quietly. “I don’t know who gave away the passcodes. Nothing in my personnel file would suggest that I am a traitor.”

“Do you think I’m stupid?! I-“

“Apparently, yeah.”

Oops. You didn’t mean to say that out loud.

Hux strikes you again, but this time he immediately grabs a fist full of your hair to yank you back up. You yelp, painfully craning your neck to somehow relieve the burning sensation on your scalp.

“Do you have a death wish?” He growls.

“No.” You reply through gritted teeth.

“Then tell me who gave away the passcodes.”

You take a few deep breaths, willing yourself to neither cry nor beg; Giving up on the possibility that you might get back to your job after this and rather focus on if you even make it out the room alive.

“I told you,” You say, voice rough by now, “I don’t know.”

Hux lets out an annoyed sigh and goes to readjust the grip he has of your hair. The moment his fingers unclasp, you let yourself fall down and violently throw your body against his. With a surprised ‘oof’, he goes down with you, landing on his back.

You scramble to get off him, driving your knee into his stomach while at it, and hurry towards the door. You make it two steps, before his gloved hand grabs your ankle to stop you, causing you to stumble and fall right back down.

The air is pressed out of your lungs and your arms, you fell on to catch yourself, hurt like shit.

Relentless, Hux holds on to your ankle and drags himself over the floor and onto you. Next thing you know, he’s grabbing the back of your neck, fully body weight on top of you.

“What the fuck was that?”

“Me restating that I don’t have a death wish and would like to get out of here.”

“I’ve been going at you for over an hour, how do you still have the energy to be snarky?”

“The First Order taught me well.”

He chuckles. Hux actually chuckles at that.

You’re not so sure if that’s a good sign.

Either way, you stay still and breathe shallowly, your own breath ricocheting off the floor your cheek is pressed against.

Now, the next thing that happens will forever be up for debate. Did he start it? Did you? Was it on purpose by either party? What about the power imbalance? What about the violence? Is this romanticization? …

Mostly, this is happening right now, so you cannot care to keep pondering.

Hux moves again, not loosening the grip he has on your neck; it causes his crotch to drag over your ass and for the splinter of a second it feels good to have him on top of you.

You hold your breath to suppress that thought, but Hux senses it too. He feels it too. Because you both fall completely silent and the energy in the room shifts noticeably. All of a sudden, this isn’t a violent interrogation, it is General Hux dry humping you.

All of a sudden, Hux is desperate to convince you of something. It was obvious from the beginning that he enjoys this, but now a new kind of enjoyment became palpable.

You snicker.

He huffs.

Violently, he pulls you up as he gets to his feet. It hurts, of course, but you don’t cry out like before. You stay quiet. You force him to fill the silence.

“Last chance, Lieutenant.”

You don’t reply.

He finds your eyes, glaring at you.

You only wipe your cheek clean and blow your chaotic hair out of your face.

Unbelievably angry and reckless, he spins you around and walks you up to the wall, shoving you against it. You manage to absorb the shock with your arms, that are bruised and basically numb by now.

You usually, naturally, would have braced yourself for him to shoot you in the back of your head. But he walks up too close. His breath is too hot on your neck. He’s panting too loudly.

“What kind of sad strategy is this?” He asks. “Giving me the silent treatment?”

You press your lips together to not audibly react to his closeness. To the intensity this whole interaction gained.

He shoves you against the wall again and kicks your legs apart to fully lean into you.

You gasp.

He slaps the wall next to your head.

“Answer me, Lieutenant!”

“I have nothing to say.”

After a pause, Hux yanks your hips back and reaches around you to open your belt.

“I’ll give you something to talk about.”

You shiver, aghast to realize that you do not want to protest.

He rips your pants down and when he claws into your ass, you feel that he took his gloves off. He really wants to touch you.

He presses one hand between your shoulder blades to keep you in place while slithering his other down your thighs and back up to reach your cunt.

You flinch when he drags his fingers through your folds and finds your clit. It makes him circle it harder. Which occupies your thoughts enough to only realize that he took his hand away from your back when you hear him unbuckle his belt and open the zipper of his pants.

Within seconds, he is dragging his dick where his fingers just were. Impatiently, he tilts your hips further and adjust his stance to be able to tease your entrance with the tip of his dick.

You whimper at the sensation and the feeling of him being incredibly hard.

Slowly, he moves back and forth, never fully pulling out of you.

“I told you I’ll keep going until you beg.”

“And I told you I have nothing to say.”

“Your cunt suggests otherwise.”

He shoots back and pushes in further, causing a wet noise to echo through the room.

“So does your dick.” You tell him through gritted teeth.

Cursing you out, Hux snaps his hips and shoves his dick fully into you.

You yelp, not expecting him to be this big. After all, you haven’t seen his dick yet.

He bites into your shoulder and begins to thrust without giving you much of a break.

You groan, head lolling to the side, embarrassingly highly enjoying every second.

Hux plows into you tirelessly, proving to be as relentless as his politics suggest.

He also proves to be as cruel, because the moment he feels you tighten just a little bit, he pulls out and turns you around to face him.

“Beg.” He snarls.

You snake your leg around his hip and pull him closer. “No.”

Both panting, you stare each other down.

“Fuck you.” Hux says, lining himself back up with your entrance.

“Fuck you.” You hiss.

Then he pushes back into you, and you clasp his face with both hands and silence your first full-on moan with a kiss.

It’s an angry kiss. It’s a desperate kiss. It’s a yearning kiss.

You don’t break it for a long time. You deepen it. You tilt your head, he bites your bottom lip and thrusts harder, you push your tongue into his mouth.

When you do break it, he breathes out: “Pathetic cunt.”

“Feels amazing, doesn’t it?”

And then you’re devouring each other again, your thighs shaking, his dick twitching inside of you.

“I’ll apologize for hitting you if you beg.”

You have to blink several times to focus back on Hux’ face. To remind yourself who you’re actually fucking.

“Oh, so we’re bargaining now?”

“You proofed yourself to be good for something after all, might as well…”

“And what is it that I’m good for, General?”

“Being a wet hole I can fuck.”

This strikes a nerve with you. But not the one Hux intended.

Because you clench hard and cum with a groan.

“Shit, fuck…” He mumbles, working against the resistance of your spasming walls.

Clawing into his shoulders, you try your best to hold yourself up while you go rigid and waves of pleasure shake your body.

Surprisingly, Hux is the one to sink down. You follow him, straddling him as soon as your knees hit the ground, and rolling your hips to slip his dick back into you.

He kisses you, body overheated just like yours, and fucks into you from below. You’re barely able to meet his erratic thrusts.

Soon, his head falls back and his face contorts and he cums with a groan.

You both still, averting eye contact even though you’re too high from your orgasms to feel real shame.

After a long moment, you get off Hux and roll to your back to pull your pants up, ignoring the mess between your legs.

You hear fabric rustle as he does the same.

However, neither of you stands up. You lie on the cold ground, staring at the ceiling, shoulders almost touching.

“Thank fuck I deactivated the cameras.” Hux suddenly says.

You burst out laughing and finally look at him.

He’s already looking at you, eyes darting over your face.

“I really am sorry.” He adds, whispering.

You let out a hum but then say: “You almost got me.”

“Got you?”

“To believe that you’re sorry. And beg.”

“What do you think you’ll do first?”

[liminalpebble]

Sorry you’re dealing with travel delays! When you mentioned Domhnall Gleeson, though, it reminded me of when I first switched my Siri voice to the British male one. (I was going to say “don’t ask why” but I’m sure you don’t need to.) And my husband and I used my Siri to direct us to the science museum…

My husband looked at me like 😒

“Why is Hux directing us to the butterfly conservatory? 😒”

(It’s just the slightest vocal similarity, and maybe just to him and me, but it made me laugh)

Hello there sweet Lady!

And thank you for the fun prompt. It definitely kept my imagination occupied during the travel blues. I hope you enjoy this little bit of swooning over villainous British voices. This is new for me. I've never written Hux, second-person perspective, gender neutral reader, or a short drabble before, so lots of firsts!

Much love!

Peb

-----

The Sound of Your Cold Voice

Pairing: General Hux x gender neutral reader, second-person insert (no use of y/n)

CW: wartime violence, reader is wounded and captured, implied later smut but none described, implied future dubcon situation. Minors DNI

Word count: 500-600

---

Drifting back from unconsciousness, the first thing you heard was that voice; crisp, cold, polished, sharp enough to enact death by a thousand subtle, strategic, cuts. It was mesmerizing, pulling you back to wakefulness with an iron grip. Your eyelids flutter open to a mere squint under the bright lights and shiny black surfaces. There's something covering your mouth, pushing air into your lungs and you breathe it in desperately.

A mirthless chuckle. “Ah. There you are. Welcome back.” He gives an order and the mask is gone, the air is gone, and his threatening presence seems to steal all of it from the room. “Leave us,” he commands the medical technicians, and you hear them funnel out with a hiss of the door.

It comes back to you; the research station you were working on marred by flames and swarming with storm troopers. You were injured badly and so were your colleagues (the ones who were still alive, anyway). You were shoved before him, hands cuffed behind your back, and soot staining your white lab uniform. His shiny boots striding purposefully towards you were all you could see as your head hung in shock and grief.

“And what have we here?” he inquired, lifting your chin with one long, leather-clad finger.

He didn't expect to be struck by how beautiful your face was; compassionate and clever eyes, a bravery in them despite overwhelming fear. Even covered in soot and abrasions, hair disheveled, it only made him want you more. It jostled his immaculate composure and made him warm under the crisp black uniform, but he would never show it.

You spoke, though your voice shook with fear and anger. “A scientist...just a scientist. This was a peaceful operation, a research facility...Why? Why did you have to do this?”

Hux wasn't accustomed to emotion breaching his Teflon coating of ambition, but something about the vulnerability in your voice made him ache to touch you, soothe you with that hypnotic voice telling you it was all for a greater good, of course, all for order in the galaxy, you sweet innocent darling. He settled on doing so, but with a shield of sardonic teasing.

He tutted, yanking your face to meet his eyes with that icy, gloved hand. Hux peaked his brows in mock sympathy, though his piercing green eyes held none. “Oh, but it is all for the greater good, my dear. You'll see.” His voice dropped to a deep whisper, as his face moved closer. “And it will be my pleasure to personally show you.” As the implication of his words set in, you felt horrified at the unbidden heat rising in your body; the unmistakable fizzle of arousal snaking its way between your legs. He loomed, tall and thin, that brilliant red hair and green eyes reminding you of a fox playing with an injured rodent.

Now, with your back against the cold medical slab, prone and vulnerable and isolated with the dreaded General Hux, terror and temptation swirled within your body. His face, that beautiful lethal face, moved to a hair's breadth form your own as your breaths became shorter and quicker. His hand cupped your cheek gently, this time without the wall of leather between your skin. A tear slid from your eye and he brushed over it gently with his thumb.

“Now, darling,” the general said, with surprising tenderness, “Where were we?”

@ladyofthestayingpower @cloudyfacewithjam @lemongingerart @huxs-side-part

[ao3feed--reylo]

The generals darling (yandere!Armitage hux x reader) WIP

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/7oM1LR9

by CannibalCorpse193

The reader and hux are reunited childhood friends who both had a similar life for the most part and were separated in college aka military training but end up meeting again because kylo ren seems to has been dating the heroic lieutenant. As the events of the sequel trilogy happen kylo through the force finds out his soulmate is rey and breaks it off with the reader leaving hux to take them and slowly mold everything around then to make Y/N fall for him and get the thrown he deserves even if he hasn't to somehow murder snoke himself or even team up with kylo ren. In the end is it worth it and will you save him like he has saved you even if your trapped and forced to be his queen/king...even if there's nothing left but him and the first order. Either way your trapped with your new genocidal soulmate who murdered your abusive family for you 🤭❤ so romantic (WIP may change it up a bit give me suggestions if you want it's much appreciated)

Words: 281, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Fandoms: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con

Categories: Multi

Characters: Ben Solo, Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Reader, Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux, Rey (Star Wars), Snoke (Star Wars), Phasma (Star Wars), Dopheld Mitaka, Finn (Star Wars), Poe Dameron, Leia Organa, Original First Order Characters (Star Wars), Original Droid Characters (Star Wars), Original Resistance Characters (Star Wars), Millicent the Cat (Star Wars)

Relationships: Armitage Hux/Reader, Armitage Hux & Reader, Armitage Hux/You, Armitage Hux & Millicent the Cat, Armitage Hux & Snoke, Kylo Ren/Rey, Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren & Reader, Kylo Ren & You, Snoke & Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey & Ben Solo

Additional Tags: Character Death, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Torture, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Soulmates, Yandere, Attempted Murder, Murder, Psychological Torture, Torture, Platonic Relationships, Manipulation, Force Mind Reading (Star Wars), Reader-Insert, Genocide, Paranoia, Unhealthy Relationships, Almost Kiss, Romantic Soulmates, Exes, Childhood Sweethearts, Childhood Friends, Childhood Trauma, Near Death Experiences, Manipulative Relationship, Emotional Manipulation, Forced Marriage, Abusive Relationships, Abusive Parents, Force-Sensitive Reader

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/7oM1LR9

[thegreatwicked]

I love these games! Here's my recs!

@ladyinwriting18This woman is my hero! Between her incredibly STEAMY stories and her tiktok content, she's got you covered if your main fictional crushes are Kylo Ren, or our darling damaged Ginger, General Armitage Hux! My personal Favorite is her story The Gift This story made me absolutely FERAL for Maul! Small pun intended. ;)

I'm going to jump on the bandwagon here and I have to give it up to. @split-spectrum for Water and Rock because I am waiting on the EDGE MY SEAT for the next chapter for this DELICIOUSLY written Obi-Wan OC. O.M.G.

@acciotwinz I am only recently delving into celebrity fanfiction and I am IN LOVE with Long Distance It's a reader insert/Roger Taylor from Queen and it is fluffly, sweet, sexy and I need more of this rockstar love in my life!

OVERACHIEVER, I'm tagging three more blogs because limiting myself to just three is just plain cruel.

@thenightmarketofdathomir I CANNOT say enough about this blog or the stories contained therein. But my personal favorite SO FAR is The Three Princes; The Oldest Profession Part One It is a Feral Opress/insert I believe and it is in word. SEXY. AS. HELL. A truly masterful blog! Go check ti out if you are into the Opress Brothers! You will NOT be disappointed.

@jedianjakenobi Perhaps one of the most LOVELY collections of Obi-Wan/Ben Kenobi and they need to be made into movies. I just finished Bed... and Breakfast a reader insert where you meet Ben Kenobi whilst nursing a broken heart in Scotland. Need I say more? No? Didn't think so; also LOVE To Create Life another reader insert Jedi Council sanctioned Jedi baby making mission. It is... To die for and I need more

Last one!

@littleredwing89 ROMAN SIONIS. I am dying. This blog inspired me to start my own Roman Sionis smut; Shadows of Deception and I'm about to post the next chapter. GO read this blog. my favorite is The Intern AU sleeping with the bad boss man and it gets real! So smutty and sexy!

Stopping here before it gets out of control! And if you haven't checked out @pickleprickle my god, what are you doing with your life? Seriously Sith-Obi-Wan... Drool. Prickle also does a monthly recs blog post giving some fantastic writers some attention! Thanks for the shoutout! Happy Holidays everyone!!

Gonna start a fun lil game, perhaps…

Would you please reblog this with a list of THREE OTHER BLOGS that you think your followers would love?

My goal is a domino effect of amazing blog recommendations! So we can find new peeps to follow and see what an amazing array there is in the fandom.

And don’t be guilted into listing people who list you! 😂 Obviously you can if you want, but the goal is to get a wide variety and we don’t want social nuances to turn it into a homogenous list of butt-kissing. 💩 Apologies if that’s not so tactful; my heart is in the right place… I think! 😜

[frickyeahfanfic]

prompt: “It’s too early for this”

pairing: general hux x doctor!reader

summary: another little fic about the doctor and the general. the rest of them are found here: RESIGN  &  FIX ME UP 

word count: 722

warnings: none

a.n.:I don’t drink coffee. we’ll see how this goes

_____________

Benefits of joining the First Order?

Free coffee. 

Every day, anytime, whenever you needed it. 

And it wasn’t just some cheap coffee like the stuff they had at inns or at the Academy. Whatever ship, base, even planet you were on, they stocked their supply with the best brew. 

You were positive that without coffee, the first order would not be able to function. 

A mini cafe was conveniently placed on an in-between level separating housing and command decks, conference rooms and the med-bay. It was your first destination before taking care of any patients or organizing chaos in your medic wing. 

You wait with a datapad in hand at a table for two, for your order to be called. 

“Black, five shots of espresso and one shot of Meiloorun syrup,” a voice drawls behind the counter. 

As you tuck your datapad under your arm you wander around tables up to the counter. Before you could grab the steaming cup, a gloved hand whisks it away. You flinch in confusion and turned around to see a tall man, nose deep in his own datapad, holding your drink. It’s too early for this, you think to yourself. 

“General,” you call before he can walk away, taking note of his rank evident on his sleeve. He moves the datapad away from his face and looks around confused before craning his neck down to see you. To your surprise, the man is General Hux, easily identified by his blazing hair. You never crossed paths with him in the cafe, mostly because he was always up at some ungodly hour to get to work, and you were confined to the medbay.

“I believe you have my order,” you state, gesturing to the cup in his hand. 

He reads the list of ingredients in his cup and frowns. “Black coffee with five shots of espresso and one shot of syrup?”

You nod eagerly and reach out for the cup. “Yes its-”

The lady at the counter calls another drink. It was the same exact order.

There’s an awkward pause as it registered in your head that you probably just accused the General of taking your coffee when it was indeed his own. 

Well actually you had no idea who ordered first, but you assume your cup was the one waiting with the barista. You quickly grab the drink at the counter and wave it in front of Hux. 

“You’ve got good taste,” you joke, but he rolls his eyes. 

The two of you start your way to the elevator. 

“I’m surprised we haven’t at that mix-up before” he muses, eyeing your coffee as he takes a sip of his own. “Five shots of espresso is quite a bit.”

“It’s the only thing that keeps me awake during procedures,” you laugh. “I go to bed pretty late. Lots of patients lately.”

He hits the button to go up.

You continue. “What’s your excuse? Surely you take care of yourself and get enough sleep.”

“I normally don’t take this much. Ren has been, something else lately. Makes me a bit more exhausted.” He sighs lightly. 

“Hmm. Makes sense. I’ve had plenty of people come in for injuries like lightsaber burns and supposedly stray blaster shots,” you reason with him. 

It was quiet in the elevator. You check things off a list on your datapad and he organized his schedule for the day on his own datapad. He snuck glances over at you as you sipped away, but couldn’t find the courage to say anything to you. 

The panel chimes, signaling your stop to the med-bay. 

“Nice chatting with you General.” You smile and tuck your datapad under your arm again. 

“Wait, Doctor,” he placed a hand on your shoulder, but quickly took it off as a small group of stormtroopers walked by. “Will you join me for coffee again?”

Your eyes sparkled and you beam. “I would love to.”

Hux tries to maintain a level of professionalism. “Very well. I expect to see you in the cafe tomorrow at approximately the same time as today.”

You nod and leave him in the elevator. As he watches as you walk into a sea of white scrubs and coats, a wave of longing washes over him. He’ll see you tomorrow, but now he feels like a piece of him is missing.

[obiwan824]

Bandages- General Hux x Reader

A/N: Nobody asked for this. It’s just self-indulgent Hux fanfiction.

Y/N bit her lip outside of the door, wondering whether to go in. She had felt a shift in the Force, something Ren had always taught her, as a Knight of Ren, to look for and go to. Someone was in deep distress, someone was in pain, and who was she if she wouldn’t help? Now, however, she realized the change in the Force was from General Hux.

Hux hated all of the Knights of Ren, including her. He hadn’t bothered to speak to them, but then again, he could hardly stand to glance at them. He didn’t understand the Force and those who used it, and he’d only had bad experiences with Force user in the past.  

She built up her courage and knocked, pressing her head against the metal door to try and hear. She heard a muffled noise, a curse of some kind.  

“I’m busy.”

Y/N knit her eyebrows together, frowning. “General Hux, this is urgent.”

There was a pause as he struggled to identify the voice. “What don’t you understand? I’m busy!”

“If you don’t let me in, I’m going to have to force my way in.”

“And how are you going to-”

With a flick of her hand, Y/N unlocked the hinges and let the door fly open, stepping in and closing the door behind her. Hux looked up with a sneer, pulling up a blanket to hide himself.

“You.”

Y/N studied him carefully. “What’s wrong? I-I felt a disturbance.” “With the Force, I assume?” Hux asked, his eyes glazing over with something. When she nodded, the bright blue orbs displayed anger. “Ren and his pesky little apprentices- I don’t remember inviting you into my quarters.”

“Neither do I. However, I remember that you were upset, and I came to help.”

“I don’t want your help.”

Y/N marched over to him, watching as his face morphed into fear. “But you need it-” this came out more forcefully than she had imagined, on the brink of anger, and he flinched as she raised her hand, shielding his face from beneath the blanket.

“Don’t-”

She let her hand hover in the air for a moment, watching as he slowly uncovered his face and threw back his shoulders. Whatever fear had been in his face left until he once again glared at her.

“I wouldn’t hit you.”

“I should hope not.”

“Then why did you flinch?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. Not that he could see that from under her-

That was it. Her helmet. She chewed on her lip for a minute before opting to take a page out of her Master’s book. Y/N dug her fingers under the mechanisms, apply pressure for a moment before the helmet was loosened. She pulled it off and sent it down as she knelt so that she was eye-level with Hux, who was sitting rather helplessly on the floor. She set down her helmet and shook out her hair, staring at him intensely.

After Hux recovered, he looked away, not able to meet her gaze. “You seem to be human, no facial disfigurements despite the helmet used to cover any facial features.”

She smiled. “Is that your way of saying I’m attractive?”

“That’s not what I meant.” Hux flushed red, wrinkling his nose.

“What’s under the blanket? Why are you hiding yourself?”

He stiffened. “It’s nothing. I was just doing something.”

“Something that caused you pain,” she said, trying to meet his gaze. He refused, nose in the air. “I want to help you, General.”

“I don’t need your help and I sure as hell don’t want it.”

After a minute of silence, she pulled back the blanket, revealing him in only his undershirt with a huge gallery of bruises along his collarbone, neck, and arms.

She looked at him in awe for a minute. “Maker, Hux, what did you- what did you do?”

“I didn’t do anything.”

“Someone did, though,” Y/N murmured, clicking her tongue. She reached out and put a hand, soft and gentle, on his arm, fingers dancing delicately up and down his arm. He shivered, wanting to pull away from her touch, but something about the way she looked at him so fondly made him stay. It was an impressive set of bruises, injuries that would have caused pride to any soldier who had gained them in battle. Hux, however, seeming embarrassed by them, from his need to constantly hide them. “Someone did this, and that’s why you flinched. You thought I was going to hurt you, because-because someone already did.”

“I don’t want your sympathy.”

“I wasn’t offering it.” Y/N bit her lip. “Who did this?”

“That idiot the whole lot of you follow around like lost ducklings,” Hux growled, eyes crackling with anger.

Her eyes widened. “Kylo Ren? He-he wouldn’t do something like that. He cares about you. Kylo tells us that he cares about everyone in the First Order.”

“He knows how to manipulate people,” Hux said, looking down at the ground with distaste. “That’s for sure.”

Y/N looked around the floor, finding a small jar of bacta. “And you were healing your wounds.”

He nodded. “I was, at least, before you came in.”

“Come here,” she said softly, sitting back on her heels and digging around in her robes. “Ren taught us a trick for injuries.”

“I don’t need it.”

“You’d rather be in pain than accept help from someone else?”

Hux froze for a minute, considering, before he leaned forward, watching her hands carefully.

“So instead of tying your bandage like this,” she said, demonstrating. “You’ll want to do it like this. It helps it to heal faster, and it will leave fewer bruises.”

Hux watched silently as she explained further, still sneering, but there was a softer look in his eyes. When she finished, she looked up at him with expectant eyes, asking for approval, and he nodded.

“I- I didn’t know that.” he paused. “Thank you.”

“Of course.” she stood up, brushing herself off. “I guess- I guess that will be all.”

Hux felt his heart drop, although he had no idea why. “I suppose so.” he dwelled on this for a moment, taking in the hopeful expression she still wore. Did she- did she want to be invited to stay? He wondered whether he’d enjoy her company further. It was true, perhaps, that not all Force users were as bad as Ren. This one was gentle and kind, and she enjoyed his company as much as he enjoyed hers. He decided that there would be no harm in letting her stay and exploring his feelings for her. “Unless, of course, you’d like to stay, in which case I will make some tea for us.”

She smiled. “Tea sounds wonderful.”