Cut To The Feeling (Reader x Professor Ren / Kylo Ren)

I'm Ready If You're Willing

It was your day off. No work, no school, nothing.

You reveled in these days, because you truly tried to make it a day for yourself--a day where you did something special, because these days rarely happened. If you didn't have work, you had school, and if you didn't have school, you had work. But today was one of those perfect days, and, God, did you need it.

You were always a huge ball of anxiety at school no matter what, but with this being your final year, it was at an all time high. With the new added layer of pressure that was Professor Kylo Ren's expectations of you (and the way that your cheeks felt warm when he was around you), you were fairly certain you were going to have to get a higher dosage of meds at some point. You wouldn't be able to function without it.

But today you weren't going to allow yourself to feel that anxiety. You were going to bask in what time you had left to be carefree and not worry about real world problems that lived outside of the sheltered sphere of college life.

You weren't one to go out much, mostly because your workload was usually so big, and because you worked in a bar, so you were more than a little disillusioned by nightlife, but that was something you had kind of missed out on when it came to your college experience. So, you figured tonight would be the night that you finally went out to the bars in the French Quarter. This was mainly because Rey was also free that night, and she asked you to go. But you were also feeling adventurous.

With that, you spent most of the day watching movies and scrolling on your phone. That was a day well spent to you.

"You have to get all dressed up," Rey scolded you.

"Why isn't this fine?" You whined, gesturing to your sensible for the weather denim shorts and white sleeveless bodysuit.

"We are going to Bourbon Street, not fucking summer camp," Rey crossed her arms. "Dress in something you could imagine yourself getting violently bent over the counter in a bar's bathroom in."

"There's so much wrong with that statement, but the main thing is that I would never get fucked on the counter of a bar's bathroom," you cringed at the thought.

"You know what I mean. Dress up, have fun! I need you to get laid. It's been ages," Rey basically stomped in place like a toddler.

"Why are you so concerned about the activities of my vagina?" You got indignant.

"Okay, fine, whatever. Dress up for yourself. I just want us to look like two hot young college girls out on the town. We never do this," she held her hands together, pleading. "Please?"

"Ugh, fine," you groaned. "Give me a second."

Rey jumped in place in excitement as you walked back over to your closet. You didn't have many things that would be suitable for the kind of activities that Rey wanted you to get tangled up in, but you knew you had to have something to match her energy. You looked over your selection. It was mostly leggings and huge t-shirts, but amongst all of that you saw a baby pink satin dress that you had bought for a production you had done the previous year. It was an outrageously short, outrageously fitted mini dress with a plunging neckline, a triangular keyhole detail under the bust, and flimsy spaghetti straps. You had gotten it for a mere ten dollars from some fast fashion website, and it was pretty awful, but it definitely fit the aesthetic for the evening. Taking a deep breath, you pulled the dress out of the closet and shed your sensible shorts.

You looked in the mirror, trying to pull the hemline of the dress further down your thighs, but it would come right back up to where it was supposed lay: many inches above your knee. You sighed, smoothing the fabric over your stomach. You did look good in the thing. Despite the cheap fabric, it accentuated you in all of the right places. Your makeup was more dramatic than usual, and your hair was down and styled perfectly. You barely recognized yourself.