Little Bird (Kylo Ren x Reader AU)

For Your Use

When the Council Chamber doors opened, your humanity fled the room, leaving a husk, a red dress scrutinized by a dozen strange men.

Your Commander sat next to you at the head of the table, clad in an all-black suit, glossy hair sweeping his shoulders and pink lips pursed in thought. His greeting of the Council members was as generous as a brief flicker of focus, watching them and their expressions as they filed in. One by one, they were seated, and you stared at your hands, sneaking glances at Kylo, avoiding the temptation to be rapt in his beauty. Despite it all, his perfection stirred you--but you couldn't decide if that stirring was from admiration or irritation.

With the Knights slated to be dismissed post-meeting, he'd requested you accompany him (come), given that the meeting's purpose involved you, anyway. It was interesting, this new level of dashed intimacy between you and Kylo Ren--his desire to control you fettered by the shared knowledge that he would inevitably fail to do so. Under any other circumstance, you would have declined his request, but in the end, you'd agreed to come out of sheer determination to find something for the Resistance to use.

After all, the switchblade was back in your possession, stowed in your dresser, awaiting its own destiny.

"You expect us to have a meeting with a Handmaid present?"

The mention of you snapped you to reality, plunged now into a chamber where your only sanctuary was a man from whom you would refuse any refuge.

Kylo was unfazed. "The meeting concerns her."

"Does it?" one of them--older, balding--asked. "You've become so interested in Handmaids lately."

"It's funny, isn't it?" Another older man, a full head of white hair. Most of them were older, really. "Don't you remember all those years ago? He hated the idea."

A third man laughed. "He did!"

"What did he say to Snoke that one meeting?" the balding one asked. "Something like, how we need to build resources, something something, rather than spend... Spend our time with a harem, or something, was it?"

"No, no, Quinn," said the white-haired man. "It was, we need a foundation before wasting our time designing a fantasy harem."

"God Almighty, that's it! Fantasy harem!" the bald man--Quinn, apparently--replied. "You do have a way with words, don't you, Ren?"

Kylo said nothing. Deep, deep inside of your chest, a twinge of affection, of hope. That seed of doubt inside of him, the one he'd claimed to have shorn free, had never quite lost its root. You imagined him--younger, less exhausted, the words rolling from his mouth in droll disdain--and fought the urge to smile.

Quinn looked at Kylo. "What finally sold you?" Even with your gaze aimed at your lap, you felt his focus rest on you for a heart-sinking second. "I guess some of them are like good pets. Some are even nice to look at."

"Like little parakeets."

"Yes, like those. Or canaries."

Your stomach churned, and you glimpsed Kylo. His eye twitched.

Quinn nodded. "Anyway. You brought a Handmaid here. Into the Council Chambers." A pause. "Slightly inappropriate. We're hoping to get a decent explanation."

"She's pregnant," Kylo said, as if this was a perfectly obvious and thorough answer.

A pause, and a handful of men chattered in congratulations, another couple clapping their hands. Kylo stiffened next to you, like he was shocked by the reality of it, like it hadn't been his cock cumming inside your pussy that had landed you both in this position. Heat crept up your neck as the semi-celebration peaked and died in murmurs of assurance that, of course, your child would be a boy. It seemed as if no matter where you went, there were groups of strangers hoping to claim your pregnancy and invest its future with their own delusions.