Negotiations (Kylo Ren x Reader)

Wouldn't Come Back

*TW: More violent sex/femdom. Three asterisks (***) at the beginning and end of those scenes!

The drawer with the secret datapad was already open, like Hux had hastily shoved it back in, or maybe he simply wasn't worried about anyone snooping around his desk. Clearly, he didn't know you very well. You scrolled through the comm log, seeing holo communication with the anonymous contact as recently as yesterday. You hated how your stomach ached, how you felt so betrayed. You shouldn't- you were lying to him just like he was lying to you. The other recent comms included contact names such as Batuu, Arkanis, Delphon, and Ossus. You tapped on the anonymous contact, a long cache of texts popping up on the screen. You scrolled up until you saw the messages you'd read the last time you snooped.

Have you thought any more about what I said? You could almost hear Sindian's voice in your mind as you read her words.

My answer remains the same. Hux had replied.

You've partnered with the wrong organization, Armitage. It's no coincidence that you lost the bid for Chancellor. I don't know what else I can say to prove to you that she is holding you back. Your blood coursed hot through your chest.

You have no right to talk to me about my marriage.

Don't tell me you actually have feelings for the girl. Hux hadn't responded, and Sindian sent another message several hours later. Your father would be disappointed to see who you've become. You felt a pang through your body like she'd said it to you, the hurt Hux must have felt to read that... You took a deep breath, there was no time to feel sympathy for him. You decided you would corner Sindian the next time you were on Hosnian Prime and extract the answers from her head if you had to. The datapad chimed and you gave a soft gasp, your panicked gaze shooting up to the doorway, but the room was empty. You looked down, the name Batuu displaying across the top of the screen. You clicked on it, your heart beating faster, a rush of adrenaline making your hands shake. Your eyes flew over the words that appeared.

Daily Report #786: 3 new arrivals, 2 exterminated, total of 60. Prior mentioned escaped subject has been detained, awaiting your judgement. Need new samples for isolation, injection count down to 39. Phase 2 beginning tomorrow for 14 subjects, all midichlorian counts increased per today's blood draw.

Your stomach dropped into your toes. You scrolled up through the cache, reading over hundreds of daily reports from Batuu, hundreds of lives 'exterminated'. You felt ill. You forced yourself to scroll through the messages from all the other contacts, eyes glazing over the sheer amount of death, the number of subjects and exterminations reaching astronomical levels. This was sickening, inhumane. This was the First Order. This was your husband. You threw the datapad back into the drawer, running from the office and into the bathroom, standing at the sink and splashing cold water on your face. You gave your reflection an accusatory stare, frustrated at how distracted you'd allowed yourself to become. It was always going to be a risk, fraternizing with the enemy like this, but you'd given too much. You'd started to trust them, all of them. Hux, Vicrul, Trudgen, even Kylo. You were so lost in the extraneous details that your mission had become murky and unclear. You needed to go back to Leia. You needed to tell her everything.

Batuu, Arkanis, Delphon, Ossus. The names of the planets repeated on a loop in your mind like a mantra, reminding you of your purpose. Vicrul dragged you out of bed the next day, so early that Hux was still sleeping at your side, his bare chest rising and falling in a slow rhythm. You stared at him for a moment as Vicrul left you to dress; he looked so peaceful, so innocent with the hollow of his cheeks, the sharp point of his nose, the muss of his red hair, normally so perfectly in place. The man you had come to know didn't seem capable of murder, let alone genocide. But you had let yourself be manipulated. Not only by him, but by all of them. These were not good men, no matter how many times they put their lives on the line for you. You took out your frustration on the Knights at practice, the blindfold tied over your eyes, knocking them down just as many times as they did you. At the end of your session, drenched in sweat, you took down the black slip of cloth and let it flutter to the ground, feeling somehow angrier than when you started. Vicrul hung back while Cardo and Kuruk headed for the showers, putting a hand on your shoulder. The look you gave him when you turned wasn't pleasant, and he removed his touch, raising both hands up by his head.