Kylo Ren/Adam Driver One-Shot Collection

Beyond Love - Ben Solo x Reader

Pairing: Ben Solo x Reader

Part: 1/2

Briefing: There's a war waging within Ben's mind; and Master Luke is starting to snuff his shifting loyalties out. When Ben's inner turmoil begins to threaten the Jedi Temple and the stability of your sacred relationship, those loyalties begin to point down a dark and harrowing path...

Word count: 3.1k

Warnings: No warnings for this part.

• • •

Ben lurches from his cot with a deep bleat, heart hammering vigorously in his chest.

His broad frame quivers with dread, goosebumps ghosting the expanse of his sweat-sullied skin. His hand trembles as he wrenches it through his disheveled hair, teeth clattering despite his huts exceptional balminess.

"Whats wrong?" A soft voice whispers hoarsely, a delicate hand rubbing alleviating circles into the muscles of his damp, bare back.

He whirls, rigid and defensive, fists clenched in preparation to fight.

You beam at him, offering a bright, sluggish smile, and he huffs out a hearty breath at the sheer sight— instantaneously at peace.

You continue caressing his back, tracing the impressive curvature, the cleaved divots of his muscles, the prominent ridges. "It's just me." You croon, voice a small whisper protruding the chaos of his mind.

A jagged breath disperses from his lips, "I'm sorry," he murmurs sheepishly, kneading his temple. Those hazel eyes aflare with avoidance.

He scoops you into a warm embrace, engulfing you with an arm around the waist, guiding you into his chest.

His nostrils flare, as if memorizing the scent of you, as he burrows his face into the untamed nest of your hair. He apples a kiss to your scalp, absentmindedly stroking your forearm, drawing sloven patterns. Up and down. Up and down. Until you're nearly lulled back to sleep yourself.

You plaster a meaningful hand to his glistening chest. "It was a nightmare again, wasn't it?" You whisper knowingly.

He gulps. "Yes." The simple word is heavy, as if it had punched through his lungs, igniting another shiver of dread within him.

You open your mouth to speak again but he pulls you closer into him, firmly wrapping both of his bulky arms around you and holding you imperatively close, gently swaying you back and forth.

You rest your chin on his chest, hazily peering up at him through your eyelashes, a solemn smile tugging at your lips. His hand abandons your arm and finds your tangled hair, stroking behind your ear.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?" You mumble distractedly, purring at his expert touch.

"Of course." He attempts to stifle his reluctance. He never wanted to keep secrets burdened, hidden away from you, but a harrowing gut instinct told him to keep the dark, plaguing dreams to himself.

He was uncertain of the darkness he was combatting, and he couldn't get you involved for your own general safety and peace of mind.

"I love you." You murmur into his chest, applying another kiss there and resting your thigh on his abdomen.

Love, to him, was a privilege. Accepting it was a battle in itself; he'd never allowed himself to love or care for another, a defining quality that expelled him from other people. Before you, nobody had ever attempted to penetrate the steel walls bordering his heart. Nobody else had ever awoken these complex, unconditional feelings within him, or proposed him the opportunity to learn what love could mean. Except for you.