Hybristophilia | Kylo Ren x Reader.

Two Weeks.

It had been two weeks.

Fourteen days.

Without a single word from Kylo Ren.


He didn't text, email, not even an unexpected visit. It was like he never existed.

You handed Amanda your letter of resignation at Queen of Hearts HQ, leaving your dream and the job you loved behind. Rose left too, she had left the city and moved in with her older sister, no doubt still dealing with the grief of losing Finn. She deserved better, and you wished you could tell her everything, but you couldn't.

You felt terrible, hollow, and empty.

For two weeks you had sat in your home, windows shut, curtains closed, door locked, just existing. You didn't go outside; you barely ate, most nights you would drink yourself to sleep, whilst playing with the choker Kylo had bought for you, tracing your fingers over the expensive gems that didn't glitter as brightly as they once did.

The only time you had opened the door was when Vicrul showed up out of the blue, with a briefcase.

"Can I come in?"

His eyes glazed over your frame. Your hair was messy, no makeup on, covered up by an oversized hoodie and bed socks. You were not the same woman he had seen a fortnight ago.

"Sure." You said, moving away from the door to allow him inside.

Vicrul walked through your living room to the kitchen and placed the black, leather briefcase down on your table. "It's freezing in here." He said, eyes full of concern.

"Hm." You pondered. "I hadn't really noticed."

"You look..."

"What's in the briefcase Vic? I'm not really in the mood for small talk."

He sighed and snapped the locks, lifting the lid of the case so you could see its contents. "It's your contract, a new phone, among other things. And these," he said, pulling a bag out that rattled as he passed it over. "you're supposed to take them once a day, in the evening."

"Okay." You said, taking the bag from him. It was medication, no doubt prescribed by the one man you wanted to see. You wish he had dropped them off for you, he didn't have to talk, you just wanted to see him. "And I suppose you want me to sign this contract?"

Vicrul nodded.
You took the paper from the case and scribbled your signature on the dotted line, not bothering to read it over. You didn't care.

"There." You said, pushing the contract over to him. As you did, his hand brushed yours.

"Jesus...you're as cold as a fucking corpse. Let me take you for coffee."

"I can't, I'm busy."

"I think we both know that's a lie." He said, gesturing to your messy apartment and the empty bottles of wine behind you on the counter top. "I'm not going to leave until you say yes."

"Fine, fine. Let me go and change."

You darted upstairs and took off your over worn hoodie and pyjama shorts, switching into a pair of blue jeans, a band t-shirt and some doc martens that were stuffed in the back of your closet. You went back downstairs and Vicrul gave you a soft smile as if to say, well done for getting dressed. You smiled back, grabbed your bag and followed him out of the front door before locking it behind you.

You both got into his bright red Porsche and he drove fast towards the city. Despite your crippling depression, it felt nice to be out of the house with someone who knew you, someone you didn't have to lie to or pretend to be okay with. You looked over at him through a sly side eye, his fingers tapped on the steering wheel along with the music that played quietly. His mousy hair was moving gently in the breeze from the open window. He looked peaceful, docile, handsome even, despite being a murderer for hire.

He pulled up outside of a café and switched off the ignition, before helping you out of the passenger seat. You sat at a table outside whilst Vicrul went in, grabbed you both two coffees and sat down opposite you. He slid over a small plate with a blueberry muffin on it and you recoiled.

"I'm not hungry."

"I don't really care; you need to eat." He ushered, pushing the plate closer.

You sighed and picked up the muffin, pulling off bite sized pieces and chewing it slowly. You immediately felt nauseous and quickly chased it up with your coffee. You pulled a cigarette from your bag and lit it, savouring the brief numbing feeling it gave you.

"When did you see him?" You blurted out.

"A few days ago."

"How was he?"

"Uptight, cold, distant." Vicrul shrugged.

"Sounds like him." You scoffed, exhaling smoke. "Did he mention me?"

"No, he just mentioned the medication, instructions on how to take it. He seemed pretty adamant you start taking it tonight."

"Okay." You said, your heart sinking in disappointment.

"You know, meant what I said at Julia's party, he's never looked at someone like he looks at you. Don't worry about it, he will come around." He said softly, rubbing your shoulder. "I think he's just angry that you're wrapped up in this life now. He didn't want that for you, none of us did."

"Then why did he take me to Vegas? Or, or, fuck me behind his fiancés back? He kind of dragged me into this himself."

"And you went along willingly."

"Because I trusted him, I lo..." You stopped yourself. "But where did that get me?"

"Look, I can't speak for him, but the next time you see him, maybe you'll get some answers."

"I guess." You sighed, finishing the rest of your coffee.

"There's a job, in a couple of days. The information is all on your work phone, but, I'll warn you now, it's going to be dangerous for you." He said, cracking his knuckles. You leant back in your seat and shrugged, something dangerous sounded good right now, you wanted to feel an emotion other than crippling sadness.

"Sounds like fun, partner."

"I'm serious kid, you can't let your emotions get in the way with this job, you have to focus," You looked into his eyes, bright green and full of concern, "or you'll get a lot worse than a scar on your cheek." His thumb brushed over the thin, pink scar, which almost mirrored Kylos.

"I'll be fine Vic, I think I've proven that I can take care of myself." You muttered, pulling away from his touch. His hand cupped your cheek and pulled you to face him again.

"I know you're hurting, but you've got to toughen up if you're going to survive through this kid. If you make any mistakes, Snoke won't hesitate to put a bullet in your head, in front of Kylo." You shuddered at his words and nodded.

"Okay, okay, understood. Could you take me home now please?"

"Sure."

Vicrul drove you home in silence, his words still circling around in your head. He sounded afraid for you, and honestly, you were afraid for yourself.

Once you arrived back home Vicrul didn't keep you, you waved goodbye and watch him drive away up the street until his car was a red dot on the horizon. You went inside, locked the door and began routing through the briefcase Vicrul had left for you.

The contract was gone, Vicrul must have taken it back with him. All that was left was a brand new, red I-Phone, the same model that Kylo had. An assortment of different coloured, high quality wigs, a black, leather gun holster, an ear piece and a black card with Snokes emblem printed on it, you flipped it over and saw a small note, welcome to the family, in swirly, cursive handwriting. You rolled your eyes; it was hardly the welcome package you were hoping for.

You closed the case and pushed it away from you, ignoring the nervous feeling that twisted in your gut. You took the new phone out and held the power button, waiting for it to start up. The screen came to life, you tapped in the pin code and began scrolling through. There were no apps, only contacts. Snoke, The Knights, and of course, Kylos. You stared at the number, contemplating whether to call him or not, you decided not to. The phone buzzed in your hand; it was a message from Vicrul.


21:10 - Vicrul: I will pick you up in the morning and fill you in on the rest of the details. Please eat some dinner.

21:12 - Vicrul: P.s, take your medication, Vic.

You sent back a thumbs up and rolled your eyes. You placed the phone down on your kitchen table and grabbed the white pharmacy bag.

You ripped it open and pulled out the box, it was simple, white and blue with the long, unpronounceable name on the front of it. You screwed your eyebrows at the little box and threw them into the trash, along with the paper bag. A small sound made your head turn back; a note had fallen to the ground in front of the bin. You picked it up and sat down on your couch, bringing your knees up to your chest.


You recognised the handwriting immediately.

'Tonight, 10PM. Leave the door unlocked for me.'