Shameful | Congressman!Kylo x Reader

Chapter 3: Wear Something Nice

After the election was officially called for Ren, I resolved to start saying my goodbyes. I was devastated, tired, and still furiously horny after my moment with Poe. Rey promised me we'd share a bottle or two the following weekend and commiserate.

After halfheartedly scanning for Poe, and deciding not to fully find him later as he'd suggested, I turned to leave. As I took a step,I felt my body slam into a solid figure. In my shock, I glanced up. A mop of brown curls and piercing green eyes staring straight down at me. Ren's asshole campaign manager.

Vicrul animatedly said my name.

"If you're here to gloat, please just fucking save it," I slurred. "You won by only a couple thousand votes, and there's no doubt that you all got up to some slimy, nefarious shit to get th—"

"I'm not here to gloat. Or to defend how we won fair and square. I'm here on Ren's orders."

"I'm not interested in whatever shit he sent you for," I spit back, looking anywhere but at him. "My Uber's almost here."

"Fair enough. Not to add insult to injury, though, but you're kinda out of a job now. Just take this for me," Vicrul answered resignedly, shoving a slip of paper into my hand.

Tomorrow 4:00pm

140 S. 5th Street

Wear something nice.

"Wear something nice?!" I hissed. "Un-fucking-believable."

"Don't shoot the messenger," Vicrul replied. He paused, then continued, "For what it's worth, you ran a hell of a campaign." He truly sounded sincere. Must be all the beer I drank.

I hesitated. "I said, save it."

In response, Vicrul threw his hands up. "Again, feisty. Whatever. I'm adding you on LinkedIn. Just give it some thought."

"Fat fucking chance," I responded, stumbling toward my Uber.

I felt satisfied leaving Vicrul in the dust like that. Privileged fuck has probably never been rejected like that before. How's that for class consciousness?

As we drove away, I pulled out my phone and squinted to find Ryan's contact. He picked up after the third ring.

"Hey little lady."

I sighed. "We lost."

"Oh shit, that was tonight? I'm sorry..." Ryan paused. "I should probably punish you for losing, right?"

I rolled my eyes at his shitty attempt at dirty talk.

"See you in 15."

—

I woke up in my own bed, thank god, with a pounding headache and a sore ass cheek. But even Ryan, with all his tattooed, grimy chaos and primal, slightly gross sex appeal, couldn't get that fucking slip of paper off my mind.

I grabbed it off my nightstand, waiting for my bleary eyes to focus. The handwriting resembled that of an architect, perfectly square, uniform in size...I could envision him hunching over this piece of paper, engraved Mont Blanc pen in hand, deliberate and focused... Was I really turned on by Kylo Ren's handwriting?

I decidedly crumpled it and tossed it into a far corner of the room where I'd hopefully forget about it.

My phone lit up.

I realized that I'd totally unplugged after arriving at Ryan's weird sex dungeon, and was met with a wall of notifications— condolence texts and emails, tweets from volunteers expressing their gratitude, a LinkedIn request from Vicrul, because of fucking course, and three... four missed calls from Poe. My stomach sunk and I felt queasy all of a sudden.