Shameful | Congressman!Kylo x Reader

Chapter 36: Dopamine

Yep, took me a month to get this hoe out. So sorry to keep you waiting. Didn't realize it took me this long until jessaboss3 yelled at me about it. 

Hope everyone's been taking extra good care of themselves lately. the world is a terrible place. 

Welcome to the chapter in which i remember how fucking fabulous parentheticals can be. Only took me 36 chapters

I fucking adore all of you so, SO much, by the way. We've hit 59k reads and it makes me nauseous with delight. I get so fucking giddy when I see someone new start on chapter 1. 

ANYWAYSSS hope you enjoy this one -- it's fucking NASTY. like. NASTY 

cw: blood, alcohol, mention of c0ca1ne, bit of drama 

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Kylo's POV

Something about a dopamine feedback loop, something something. Too much of a good thing all at once invites an increased tolerance to said thing, et cetera, et cetera.

In order to correct an off-kilter feedback loop, one must establish a healthy balance between pleasure and pain, good and bad. Otherwise, the lows will get lower, the highs will get lower, and the inbetween will remain inbetween until it's all murky and sepia-toned and forgettable.

Whatthefuckever.

I woke up this morning bathed in blinding technicolor, with each glowing particle emitting from the space occupied by my beloved. She stirs in her sleep, reaching for me and nudging out breathy little sighs once she finds me. She's nude, save for the tennis bracelet I'd gifted her. She's a vision that nearly makes me weep with gratitude. Her glossy eyelids flutter and flirt and her rosebud lips puff out every so often. I'd swoon and tumble to the floor if I weren't already laying down.

The only true way to curb the soaring, sparkling dopamine high of last night (and the night before that, and the night before that, all the way up to the moment I first became aware of her), is to briskly surrender to a life of asceticism, and subsequently languish in a chasm of pain and longing.

Not a fucking chance.

Last night was an ever-moving chiaroscuro of whimpers and open-mouth grins dripping with lust. It makes my skin ache to think about it. Can't begin to imagine how hers feels. I wonder absently (not absently; more wracked with rabid curiosity) if the marks I've surely left on her have bloomed into sweet clusters of tiny little rubies.

I haven't slept a wink – only drifting around gently in a half-awake state and hoping to god that I don't rouse her when I produce my notebook from the nightstand.

My heart doesn't fit in my chest anymore, so I gave it over to her last night. Stuffed her with it. It looks better in her, anyway.

I look better in her, anyway.

My POV

I've been awake for about an hour, but it appears that Kylo's still sleeping, so I don't think I'll move an inch until he does.

I dreamt of buttercup yellow and soft caresses and the prettiest set of Botticellian pink lips I've ever seen. I've never slept better in my life, with one leg thrown over the slope of his hips and my head resting on the taut expanse of his inner bicep.

I sink further into Kylo's warmth. I crave it.

Usually, the men I've shared a bed with run too warm, fully interrupting my sleep several times in a night because I fear I'll overheat or pass out. Covered in both of our sweat. It makes my skin crawl. That just means that I didn't like them enough, I guess, because I welcome his feverish skin. It's ruddy and pink and nearly scalding.