schutta

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This morning, you'd woken up on your half-stuffed mattress, rolled onto your cracked stone floor, and bathed yourself in the kitchen basin, scrubbed your skin with the ratty sponge. You'd stuffed your face with the stale roll you'd made for your stew the previous night and shoved the bowls in the conservator before tugging on underwear and tossing your robe over it. In your tote, you'd carted your usual: a jar of lotion, mint cologne, and the little case that stored your identification and tip portions, and when you left your flat, you'd slipped on a pair of sandals and locked the door.

As you followed the Supreme Leader of the First Order onto the ramp of his sleek, knife-wing shuttle, you couldn't help but wonder if you'd ever cross that threshold again.

He had been silent since the moment you'd left the brothel, and when you boarded the ship, you glanced around the empty hull, discovering that the both of you were alone. Before you could question it, he was in the cockpit, the ramp was whirring, and your mind was spinning, elated and confused.

Counting the handful of seats, your mouth screwed in consideration. Your eyes crept to the front, spying a pilot's seat--occupied--and a co-pilot's seat, invitingly empty. With a shrug, you strode over to it and plopped down, stowing your belongings on your lap. He did not address you, did not even acknowledge the weight of your stare as he fiddled with the controls, engine roaring to life.

Kylo Ren was not only beautiful. He was huge. Of course, by now, you knew he had a massive cock, equally large hands--but the rest of him was just as proportional, just as hypnotizing. His shoulders were broad, even swathed under his cloak, his arms thick, his whole torso wide and solid with muscle. In a flash, you pictured him naked, a little thrill shooting through your spine. He'd said you were his, whatever that meant, and in comparison to what you'd woken up to this morning, the idea was more and more inviting.

He stole a glance--his gaze arrested your breath--and gripped the controls; in seconds, the ship was hovering, screaming, shooting into the sky.

You watched, speechless, as the pane of transparisteel was swallowed by white yellow blue black starlight, and then you were careening through space, hurtling out of the atmosphere and toward an unknown destination. The vastness of it mesmerized you, an echo of this man's own engulfing perpetuity--both of them equally perplexing, equally captivating.

Maybe that was a little dramatic, but to be fair, despite the sore throb between your legs and the ache at your ass, just being this close to him buzzed your skin.

He guided the ship toward another, larger vessel--a Star Destroyer, you knew that much--and as he docked it in the hangar, the reality of your arrangement descended upon you. Hordes of Stormtroopers marched across ebony tile, cut through by officers in black uniforms, all of them with duty, all of them striding with purpose. Meanwhile, you'd just been plucked from a brothel on Nevarro, clad in your skivvies and a chemise cover-up. There was no shame in that admission, but more so the recognition that you were now far from home, in the company of a total stranger--a total stranger with the power to crush you between his palms without blinking.

Said stranger went through a sequence on the dash--the engine died, the ramp lowered to the ground. He stood, a towering dark wall, and studied the bay before turning his eyes to you. They flicked over your figure for a moment--appraising--and without a word, he turned, marching off the ship. You scrambled to your feet and followed, walking in double-time to match his pace.

When you entered the bay, dozens of faces snapped to you, and then shot to the floor, perhaps due to your attire and with whom you'd arrived. It was strange, to be important enough to not only warrant a glance, but to warrant its immediate aversion. As you walked, the masses parted for their Supreme Leader, and you trailed in his wake, feeling altogether powerful and powerless, an ember wisp to his raging inferno.

cocky. beautiful. bastard. (kylo ren x reader)Where stories live. Discover now