The Dark Prince (Kylo Ren X Reader)

Dead Weight

You screamed, your voice shredding your vocal cords as it tore through your throat, threaded with panic and agony. You watched in horror as Kylo's gun dropped to the ground with a metallic smack, his figure jerking backwards as the bullet sank into him, his shoulders tensing as the pain shot through him. 

But he didn't scream. He didn't fall. He just stood there--frozen, glancing down at his wound as his chest rose and fell slowly. 

But you weren't so calm. You charged forwards--no plan in place as your body exploded from behind the tree, your feet moving at lightning speed underneath you. It was like you were watching yourself from outside of your body as the adrenaline spurred you on, fury coursing through your bloodstream. 

You came up behind Kylo, your arm ducking down as you ran to grab his gun off the ground, gripping it tightly in your fist and placing your finger against the trigger. Your knuckles white from how tight you were gripping it, you spun out from around his wide frame, surprising the man before he could even see you coming. 

You watched as his face flashed with terror, the barrel of your gun already aimed at his face before he even had a chance to react. Your blood boiling into steam in your veins, you snapped, fury spilling from you as you screamed, snapping back the trigger and shooting directly into his forehead--the bullet passing through his scull with ease. 

He gasped, his eyes crossing before they rolled up into the back of his head, his figure standing for a split second before collapsing backwards, blood seeping from the gaping hole in his forehead and running down his face in a sickening stream. 

You stood over him--feeling no remorse as his body went limp, the life draining from him as you choked out a loud sob. Your head spinning, you turned back to Kylo, your eyes clouded over with tears as his gaze fell on you, his face completely blank. You looked down at his chest, expecting to see a hole blown through his ribcage--but to your relief, there wasn't one. Though the reality still wasn't great. 

It had hit his arm. You could see the puncture wound in his bicep, deep red blood seeping from the edges and staining his jacket in the irony liquid. 

It was still horrible--and looking at it still made you want to vomit. But it was manageable. He could survive. There was hope. 

You choked, rushing towards him and resting your hand against the side of his face, pulling his blurry gaze to yours. When you looked into his eyes, he looked like he was off in another world, not connected to reality in the slightest. 

"Kylo," You said, rubbing at his cheek, "Kylo--hey, look at me." Slowly, his irises focused, the blur dissipating as he gulped, reality starting to seep back into his mind. 

"It's stuck in my arm." He muttered, like it was a normal thing to say. Oh yeah, there just so happens to be a bullet lodged in my arm. Whatever. 

"I'm gonna help you--okay? But we just need to get out of here." He nodded slowly, glancing down once more at his arm, his eyes seeming to get blurry again. 

"Not yet." He mumbled. 

"What?"

"Not. Yet." As he spoke, his tone darkening with each new syllable, his expression shifted. You watched as he straightened his spine, his jaw tensing as his lip slowly twisted into a snarl. You could almost feel the heat radiating off of him as he pulled his face away from your hand. "Give me the gun."

"Kylo, you're hurt--"

"Give me. The gun. Now." You gulped, nodding slowly as you handed him the weapon, your fingers lingering against his for a split second before he shoved past you, his bloodied arm brushing up against yours. You flinched, the blood seeping into the fabric of your gown. But he didn't react at all--as if he was completely fine, using his other arm to raise the gun, aiming towards more First Order soldiers and resuming his rampage with a loud growl.