Tied Together (Kylo Ren X Reader)

Planesense

**TW** Light description of combat/force use!

The feeling you got walking into the hangar with your squadron never got old. It didn't matter that it was 4:30 in the morning. It didn't matter that you had no idea what the assignment was. It didn't even matter that you had little to no audience.

A few engineers glanced your way as you strode by the maintenance stations. One of them slapped his buddy on the arm, inviting him to look up from his hole in an engine cowling.

Once upon a time you would have cringed from embarrassment at this unwarranted attention from strangers. But your time on Starkiller had forced you to encounter so many nonsensical men that you now relished the thought of confusing their small minds with your simple existence.

You'd grown to love the feeling that came from observing the pure bewilderment plastered on their faces when they saw you for the first time. You never understood why it was such a shock for them to see to see a female fighter pilot. As if TIEs were flown by genitals instead of hands...

What used to make you uncomfortable now fueled your bad bitch energy. Walking with your team across the hangar you felt like an unstoppable, unapproachable badass.

Your squad had completely crossed the massive, white room and now stood in front of a wall filled with identical TIE fighters. The wall of the hanger was fashioned with hundreds of TIE docking stations. The stations stacked over one another reminded you of vertical bleachers. Small elevators were situated at the base of the wall to carry crews up to the aircraft overhead. The fighters were organized by a matrix of columns and rows.

Your fighter, 6B6, was located on the 6th vertical column, on row B, of hangar 6. Creating the TIE tag of 6-B-6.

You glanced up at your ship. The red First Order logo was prominent against the grey and black paint job.

The squadron filtered into a small briefing room located below the TIE wall. You selected a chair in the back beside Darian. Avery slid down into the seat in front of you.

You lightly kicked the back of his chair. "Time to wake up, A".

"Don't touch me" He grumbled.

You teased. "My mistake. I'll make sure I update Miranda on your request to not be touched."

He snickered but didn't budge from his slouched position. A few seconds later, the door to the briefing room slung open.

Thomas stormed in. His short blonde hair was glistening with sweat. He had probably been running to catch up with the group. Thomas was shorter and thicker than the average pilot and was the youngest in the squadron. About 3 years your junior.

"Guys, I swear to all the fucking gods, if you leave me one more time, I'll---" He stopped mid-sentence as he attempted to squish his stocky body through the crowded chairs.

He ended up plopping down in the empty chair to your left and pulled a half-eaten bagel from his jacket pocket.

"I was walking out the door, ok? I was nearly there." He took a bite of the bagel. "I towld yuh, I wahnted breahktfst." He chewed through the words.

Chuckling, you leaned in towards him. "No hard feelings, Tomcat. We just don't like you." You patted his shoulder.

He flipped you the bird and continued munching.

A cold silence fell over the room as a new presence entered from the hangar.

Captain James Crichton sauntered to the front of the room, with all the arrogance in the galaxy visible in his stride. Two armed stormtroopers shadowed his steps.