Wolf

You knew some of the others would be discreetly rolling their eyes or inwardly scoffing at you. You’re well aware of how they see you—as his pet, the pretty thing he tugs around with him to keep himself company, but you don’t care. The only opinion that’s ever mattered is his, proven when he lays a heavy hand on the top of your head and there’s an automatic low chirp of appreciation in your throat. You can feel him relax after he inhales your pheromones, letting it soothe the worst of his rage. That’s why the officials of the First Order don’t throw a fit over you being in the room anymore; you manage to keep him from choking anyone to death, or running them through with crackling red plasma, and as long as you wear your shiny collar and keep to yourself, they really can’t be bothered. They used to sneer at you and call you names, but Kylo was quick to put them in their place.

After one general makes a final proposal and there are murmurs of agreement throughout the room, Kylo moves his hand to your neck and tugs on your collar, silently telling you to get up. You do your best not to stumble, the numbness in your legs making it difficult to walk and follow your alpha into the endless halls of the Steadfast. This is what most of your daily routine consists of—tagging along to his conferences, waiting quietly next to him like a good omega, and then trailing behind him across the rest of the ship. You recall a time when you would’ve been listening in on every conversation, every scrap of a battle plan that you could use if you were to escape, but you gave up on that dream a long time ago, and have since stopped listening. You tune out the statistics, the growing numbers of the dead and conquered because there isn’t a single thing you can do to help them, especially when your own people are lost amongst the digits somewhere.

He’d saved you. He didn’t destroy what minuscule, inconsequential family you’d ever known, he didn’t raze your home, Kylo had saved you. You recall being told that same string of words over and over for months in a lonely cell that they called a bedroom until you’d begun to believe it, until you didn’t lurch away from his touch with a hiss, until you’d let him bring you food and watch you eat because he needed to know his omega wasn’t starving herself to death. After so much work, you’d let him ghost his fingers over your glands without biting like a feral animal, and you started craving his scent all the time despite the way it made a part of you that you were steadily losing hold of sick. It was at that point when he’d taken you out of confinement and brought you to his rooms, given you proper nesting materials so he’d appear ever so generous, so it was easier when your heat finally rolled around and you let him fuck you until you couldn’t object to his teeth indenting the conjecture of your neck and shoulder and tying you both together for eternity.

It’s better this way, you know that. It’s better to have an alpha to watch over you and make sure you’re safe, to feed into the primal instincts you hardly have control over. You struggled on your home planet, or at least you think you did, you can’t really remember. So yes, this is definitely better.

You didn’t realize you’d reached your shared quarters until the hydraulic doors opened with a beep from the bioscanner. Your combined scents wash over you when you step into the main room, every inch coated with the musk of wood and maple over a fire, a layer of strong, spiced cinnamon just underneath. You discovered that Kylo is what people would call an apex alpha, essentially meaning he has dominion over any others, and he can give commands to other alphas and they’d practically be forced to obey. His scent is cloying and thick because of it, sometimes being so strong that you can’t think past it. It’s made you wonder why someone of his stature chose you out of any other omega he could’ve had.

His boots thud powerfully against the tile with each step he takes before he stops and turns to you, yanking roughly on your collar. It’s made from fine, dense leather, with a lock on the back that only Kylo has the key to. It’s to keep your glands protected around the ship, to keep them hidden so nobody has to properly acknowledge what you are. “On your knees,” He tells you, his voice deep and robotic from behind his helmet, the red veins coursing through it catching the light. You can’t see his eyes, but you can feel how intensely they’re watching you, and it unnerves you. It always has.

Your lashes flutter, your only sign of hesitation, before you’re sinking to the floor in the same way you had just an hour prior, bringing you level with the erection that’s been steadily growing in his pants. You glance up at him, your next swallow difficult, and his head tilts. “Go on,” Kylo says, scent getting headier by the second. The hand he puts on your head is rougher this time, gloved fingers digging into your scalp, void of the warm thanks he’d given you during the meeting.

You reach forward, undoing his clasp and zipper, pulling the waistband of his boxers down enough so his cock springs free. He’s half hard already, the heavy weight of him bobbing in front of you, a bead of precum waiting on his tip. The pure alpha smell of him overwhelms you, makes your core ache and clench around nothing at just the sight of him, slick already beginning to drip into your underwear. Kylo can scent your reaction to his lust, and it quickly gets him fully erect without any other help from you, his chest heaving with his labored breaths. You take him into your hand, the heat radiating into your palm, pulsing under your touch, and begin to pump while you kiss along the shaft.

Your thumb comes up to swipe the precum from his slit, using it as lubricant to make things easier. You lick a stripe from the thickened base where his knot would grow to the head, the salt of him settling on your tongue, before taking him into your mouth. His groan from above you encourages you, swallowing him as far as he’d go until his tip hits the back of your throat, and you fight not to gag. You circle the part of his cock you can’t fit with your fingers, flicking your wrist in time with your movement up and down his length. Spit drools out from between your lips, dripping onto the tile that reflects what you’re doing back at you in such clarity that it’s demeaning. Your pussy throbs with neglect, and you widen your knees so you can attempt to get whatever friction you can from the floor.

You use your free hand to cup his balls, massaging the scrotum while he twitches in your throat, his grip on your hair tightening to a near painful degree. He uses his hold on you to push you down the rest of the way on his dick, and you have to hollow your cheeks to avoid choking and ignore the sudden lack of airflow. He fucks your mouth with abandon, obscene noises quick to fill any empty space in the room as spit and precum coat your chin. Tears burn in your eyes, and at some point you feel his hand release you, though he uses the Force to keep you right where he wants you. You distantly hear the latches of his helmet come undone and then the hunk of metal gets dropped to the ground, and past your watery vision, you can just barely see his flushed face, red dusting his angular nose, slack-jawed as he pants.

He takes your head and keeps you against his pelvis, his hot cum shooting down your throat, forcing you to swallow and breathe through your nose so you don't suffocate. He waits until you’ve taken every last drop, until the aftershocks are finished, before letting you go. You sputter and cough, gratefully taking in lungfuls of air, the taste of his spend lingering on your taste buds. Your jaw aches, your throat burns, and your underwear is sticking to your cunt from how wet you are. He walks by you and you wonder if he’s going to leave you like this—he has before—but then he sits on the couch, leaning back, not bothering to tuck away his softening cock.

“Come on, right here,” he orders, patting his thigh, “you know what to do.”

You’re quick to stand on unsteady legs, to straddle the meat of his thigh and sink onto it with his hands on your waist to steady you. The pressure brings an instant relief that has you mewling, your sweetened scent exploding like pollen, your hips rotating to drag your clothed pussy up and down his pants. There’s a wet spot already forming with how much slick you’ve produced, with more still flowing from your needy cunt. Kylo keeps one hand on you while he uses the other to jerk himself off, already at half-mast again just from seeing how desperate you are. “Did you think I’d leave you unsatisfied?” Kylo teases, watching you eagerly work for your own pleasure. You shake your head, but he knows it’s a lie. “After you were so well behaved during the meeting, I figured you deserved something, right?”

“Y-yes, Kylo-” You moan. “Please- want you inside me.” If he would just fuck you properly, he could get the spot inside you that makes it impossible to think, he could knot you and-

“No. I can’t have you stuck on me, I have things to attend to after this,” He says, much to your dismay. You whimper, grinding your clit roughly against his thigh. “I’ll be leaving tomorrow morning on a week-long expedition. The Knights will look after you.”

If you weren’t so close to an orgasm, you would’ve stopped in your tracks. “N-no, alpha, please- take me with you-” You beg. “I don’t like them.”

Kylo huffs a laugh, quickening the pace on his cock. “It’s too dangerous for you, omega.” He says, his tone taking on an edge as he nears his own climax. “The only way I can trust you here alone is if they’re watching you. You’ll be good for them. Agreed?”

You want to object. You want to plead that he bring you along, even if he’s fighting deadly monsters or raiders because you can be quiet, you can stay in the back of the ship if it means not having to stay with those six alphas who look at you like you’re their next meal—but you can’t do that. You heard the beginnings of a command in his voice, and it’ll only turn into a full one if you go against him. So you nod, even as frustrated tears fill your waterline. “Good girl,” He says breathlessly, head falling back, his scent covering you like a blanket as his dick jumps in his gloved palm. “Lift your shirt.”

You do, keeping it just above your tits with a shaky hand so he can cum on the soft skin of your belly, globs of white dripping down and pooling in your waistband. You whine, the knot in your gut finally unraveling, your orgasm washing over you and making you feel weak. Gods, you’re a sweaty, nasty mess, covered in one too many fluids. You stink of sex and Kylo, and your inner omega is rather pleased about it.

“Get cleaned up. I’ll be back later,” Kylo says, removing you from him and plopping you onto the cushions. You stupidly want to ask him to stay, to curl up with you in your nest, but you keep your mouth shut to avoid the inevitable humiliation when he refuses. So instead you watch him disappear into the bedroom to change his robes, grab his helmet, and exit your quarters so the only thing you have to keep you occupied is your own self-wallowing at the fate that awaits you when Kylo’s off on his trip.

You really dislike the Knights of Ren. They’re loud, rude, and cruel, and none of their scents are nearly as good as your alpha’s. They treat you like free game, and you’re sure that if it wasn’t for the rules Kylo put in place, you’d spend every second of every day on one of their knots. They had been told by their master that they were allowed to do anything with you except knot you or cum inside you, and under no circumstances was your collar to ever come off. So when you’re unfortunately left alone with them, you often find yourself bent over so they can rut against you through your pants or with a dick in your mouth. Sometimes, when they were feeling especially nice, they’d lie you over a surface and eat you out until you begged them to stop because you couldn’t cum anymore.

When this dynamic was first introduced seven months ago, Kylo had watched with a hard-on as one of his Knights played with you. He needed to make sure they could restrain themselves with a pretty omega like you, ensuring they wouldn’t wreck you like they would a common whore that they’d find on one of their controlled planets. You still remember how Ushar had looked at his master when he was brought into the room where you were lying bare on the bed, cunt glistening with slick, and had been given permission. Ushar had thought it was a trap and he’d get sliced through as soon as he got near your pussy, but Kylo had encouraged him instead. He’d told him how to lick you, where to press his fingers to make you spasm, and after Ushar was done and ordered to leave and go jerk off somewhere, Kylo had plugged you with his knot and his cum so you didn’t forget who your true alpha was.

Your one small mercy is that Kylo allowed you to lock the bedroom door if you truly wanted them to leave you be. You ruminate on that while you dry your hair after your very thorough shower, then collapse onto the bed where your nest is located. You rearrange it so that everything is closer together, so you have either blankets, pillows, or Kylo’s clothes pressed against you from all sides. His scent, much calmer here than it was when you were sucking his cock, is like a balm to your frayed nerves, and it lulls you into a fitful nap.

» ☆ «

Kylo leaves you before zero-six-hundred the next morning, scenting you one final time while you were half awake before you heard the bedroom door shut and lock behind him. You’d easily gone back to sleep, ignoring your impending doom until later.

When you wake again, multiple hours have passed and your mouth is disgustingly dry. You regretfully force yourself out of your nest that’s still fresh with Kylo’s scent and drink from the tap in the bathroom, refusing to leave the solitude of your bedroom just yet. Kylo had taken two of the Knights with him to whatever backwater planet his mission called for, so that meant there were four of them left behind with you. It’s better than six but still four too many, you’d say. You wind up spending the entire day’s cycle in your room, wrapped in your nest, only moving when the smell of food wafts in through the door. As much as the Knights hate you being cooped up in there, Kylo would have their heads or other extremities if they let you go hungry, so they leave meals for you just outside in the hallway. You dart out and grab it quickly like a rat, sometimes getting a whiff of whatever alpha left it there.

You similarly wasted the second cycle. You would’ve continued this all week if you weren’t miserably bored out of your mind and Kylo’s scent hadn’t begun to go stale. By the third day, you decided you needed something to do, since your alpha had left you with no holopad, books, or games to keep you entertained. You figured the archives would be your best solution, with all its copies of old legends and information on every living thing you could imagine. Getting to read all the articles and reports was the one thing you truly enjoyed about being here, and it was a treat when Kylo would make time to take you to the vast rooms full of digital records. You hope one of the Knights will bring you there without it costing you something.

You peek out of your bedroom, finding the hall empty but still laced with a mix of scents, so you venture further. You still don’t see anyone when you reach the living space, which you briefly think is odd, and carry on. The main door is unlocked, so it would be very easy for you to slip out and find your own way without an escort, and you’re about to do just that before firm hands grab you and smack you against the wall. You yelp at the force of it, as Ap’lek’s scent floods your senses while he glowers down at you. He smells like steel and burning coal, harsh and intense, and you can feel it sticking to the roof of your mouth.

“What were you doing?” He demands. Strands of dark brown fall loose from his slick-backed hair, tired hazel eyes alight with an anger that never seems to go away. He’s usually clean-shaven, but now there’s stubble lining his jaw. “You think just because your alpha is gone that you can misbehave?”

You shake your head. “No, I just wanted to go-”

You don’t get to finish before you’re getting pushed to the ground. “I don't care,” He snaps. Your knees get nudged wide, your ass up and your face pressed against the cold floor. “You want to go somewhere, you ask one of us, you hear me?”

“Y-yes, alpha,” You mumble, your outward sigh of defeat fogging the tile.

You hear the jangle of belts coming undone and armor being shucked away, Ap’lek’s pants brought down just enough to free his bulge which he presses against your cunt through the layers between you. You whimper at the contact, the warmth of him bleeding into you when he folds himself over you, grinding his cock with rhythmic moves of his hips. The stimulation quickly has slick wetting your underwear, your omega body always so fast to do whatever it can to please whichever alpha has decided to have a turn with you. When he ruts at just the right angle he brushes your clit, and you can’t help but moan at the sparks of pleasure igniting your limbs. His scent has become so thick around you, covering you in it, kicking over the fading traces of Kylo. You know how much Ap’lek enjoys that, especially as the undeclared leader whenever their master is away. He must love to pretend that something of Kylo’s is his for a brief moment.

“Oh fuckin’- even like this you feel so good, omega. That wet fuckin’ pussy, wish I could be inside-” He growls, the tinge at the edge of his scent betraying his jealousy of his master, and his desire to knot you. He reaches back to fumble with his boxers, yanking them out of the way so he can rub his bare, aching cock through the soaked outline of your folds. He buries his face in your neck, nosing at the collar, trying to get at your glands in any way that he can. His pace picks up, jostling you with each snap of his pelvis, your knees threatening to buckle.

“It’s not fair, I should get to fuck you like Master. Show that cunt what a real cock feels like,” He rambles. “Bet you’d like that, wouldn’t you? You’re such a slut I think you’d love having all of us in you. Hell, one of us would knock you up and then Master would have to let us claim you, yeah? Wouldn’t that be nice?” He’s spurred on by his own fantasy, ignoring the way you try to disagree because no, that would not be nice. Having all seven of the alphas as a mate would be a nightmare, tied to them forever, constantly feeling their thoughts and emotions, and you can only imagine the kind of fights that would start.

You startle at how quickly his weight falls off of you as he abruptly stands. “Come on, up. Pull those down,” He orders, frantically pumping his cock in his hand, motioning to your pants. When you hesitate, barely comprehending his orders through the haze of a denied orgasm, he snarls. “Now, omega.”

You oblige this time, knowing better than to disobey, shimmying your pants and underwear halfway down your legs, spreading the fabric for him. He steps closer until his tip is nearly against your clit and then he’s spilling into your panties, rope after rope of cum dripping off your pussy and onto your underwear while he groans in relief. Your face burns while he tucks himself back into his pants and pulls yours back up with a self-satisfied smirk. You can feel the way his seed smears along your slick-soaked cunt, making an utter mess of you, your nails digging painfully into your palms in an attempt to ignore the discomfort. “Keep my cum right there unless you want me to use your mouth like last time, okay? I know how much you hate to swallow,” He purrs, patting your cheek demeaningly. He takes his helmet off the kitchen counter where he’d left it and brushes by you, pointedly locking the main door after he exits.

You pitifully retreat to your nest, too humiliated to do anything else. You lose track of how much time passes with you doing your best to avoid thinking about the sloppy wetness between your thighs that you clench together as your pussy flutters around nothing because some awful part of you is turned on by this. You hate it—the submissive, disgustingly omega side of you that loves when they claim you, when they cover you in their cum. You groan to yourself, wishing the week was over already so that Kylo would come back and you could be in his strong arms, surrounded by smoky wood and cinnamon maple.

You jump when the door to your bedroom opens because damnit you thought you’d locked it. Vicrul stands there, his helmet and most of his layers off, his curly dirty blond hair almost falling in front of his deep green eyes. His face is angled and yet soft, though the scars marring his neck and cheek betray his true nature. “I’m tired, Vicrul,” You say, sounding extra pathetic on purpose in hopes he’d turn around and go.

“You left the door open, sweetness, that means you wanted a visitor,” He says and you pout, knowing that technically he’s right and still abiding by the rules. “Don’t worry, I’ll be nice.”

You could scoff at that. None of them are nice. They all want something from you, whether it be having their scent on you for the day, their cum, or making you orgasm so many times it turns you stupid—none of them are innocent. Being nice would involve giving you a bath, or hot food, or gifting you soft nesting materials, not ruining yet another pair of pants after they humped you raw and decided to spill wherever they saw fit.

Vicrul pulls you by your ankles to the end of the bed, kissing your belly when it’s exposed by your shirt bunching up. “Smells like Ap’lek got to you first, huh?” He says, taking the waistband of your pants and underwear and gently pulling them off, watching as strings of semen go with them. He tuts. “Poor little thing. I bet he didn’t let you cum either, hm?”

You tearfully shake your head, glad to be free of your soiled clothes. “Sounds about right,” Vicrul coos. “He’s always been terrible about taking care of his things. It’s okay, baby, I’m here.”

His scent and demeanor manage to calm you, smelling like fresh rain on blooming trees, with the undercurrent of hardy leather that all of the Knights seem to have. He slings your legs over his wide shoulders and goes in, licking a fat stripe from hole to clit, collecting his comrades’ cum along the way. You moan when he presses the flat of his tongue to your bundle of nerves, swirling it around and sucking it into his mouth, your body tingling with the pleasure of it. A content rumble echoes in Vicrul’s chest as he laps up the slick that’s begun to drip out of you, making sure to gather every bit of it and Ap’lek’s release. You’re already shiny with spit and arousal, and it coats the lower half of Vicrul’s face, the noises of his slurping filling your ears. After Ap’lek teased you earlier, your orgasm comes fast, and before you can prepare yourself, you’re gushing into Vicrul’s mouth with a cry.

“Good job, baby. Doing so well for me,” He says, giving himself just a moment to catch his breath. Then he brings one of his hands around, cold and calloused without his gloves in the way, and collects your slick before pushing his second and third finger in to the knuckle. You let out a breathless mewl at finally being filled after getting relentlessly teased, your pussy weeping from being empty for so long, your body writhing on the bed. The alpha hums. “Yeah, that feels good, doesn’t it? That’s it.”

He slowly thrusts his fingers in and out of you, letting you adjust despite not really needing to given how pliant and ready you were. He adds his tongue, focusing it on your clit, drawing letters you can’t comprehend with his saliva. Your cunt sucks him in, begging him deeper so he can press against the soft spot of your walls that makes you arch up with a high-pitched noise you didn’t know you were capable of. Another orgasm is steadily building, still riding the high of the last one, a pleasant buzzing having encompassed you from your head to your toes. You cum again without much work, clenching hard around Vicrul’s fingers, soaking the sheets and blankets underneath you.

“Just a few more, baby, alright? Need to make sure I get it all out of you,” He says, even though you already feel spent and frayed like a live wire with his digits still working your pussy. “What do you say?”

”Th-thank you, thank you-” You gasp.

“Thank you…?” He prompts.

“Thank you, alpha!” You sob, heels digging into his shoulders, his other hand clamping you down to keep you from getting away.

He brings you to climax three more times, relentless with his ministrations, his scent perfuming when he sees the tears rolling down your flushed cheeks. You’re shaking when he’s finally done with you, your limbs twitching and your mind blanked out. He licks his fingers clean, and when he stands, there’s a wet spot on the front of his pants from when he came while rutting against the bed. He knows you don’t have the ability to form words at the moment, so he merely pats your leg and leaves you there to collect yourself.

He at least has the decency to lock the door for you on his way out.

» ☆ «

You can’t recall much of the following days. More often than not, you’d find yourself out of your bedroom and in the common rooms, surrounded by one or multiple of the Knights. It was hard to get away from them, your omega enticed by their overwhelming alpha scents, especially with Kylo out on business. You let them do what they wished, knowing it’d be pointless to resist, and made yourself lean into it instead. You let Trudgen eat you out on the floor while Ushar fucked your mouth, you followed Vicrul into his room for a night because he told you he wanted your scent on his bed, you sat in Ap’lek’s lap for hours and didn’t say a word about how much the buckles and straps of his armor bit into your skin.

There was a point when you were lying against Ushar’s chest where you felt him bite into the leather of your collar, undoubtedly leaving teeth marks as he seemed to test its durability. For a panicked moment, you had considered what would happen if it managed to snap off. The four alphas left behind would probably take their chance, knotting you so you couldn’t squirm and leaving their marks on your neck, right next to Kylo’s. All of them would do it without Kylo here to stop them, successfully cementing their places, knowing that Kylo wouldn’t be able to kill them because of how badly it would mess you up. It would send you into a depressive psychosis if four of your mates died so suddenly, a fate worse than death for an omega. Though beyond your biological designation, you’d be glad to get rid of them.

You’re lucky Kylo didn’t get a collar that flimsy. The one he gave you is expertly made, reinforced under the tough leather with a very thin metal that makes it nearly unbreakable. Ushar had seemed to realize this and gave up on whatever ideas he had in his head, leaving you and your collar alone.

When you get up one morning and find all of them gone, that’s how you know Kylo is coming back. You excitedly wait for him, feeling no different than a pet wagging its tail while waiting for its owner to return. At least an hour goes by before you hear the hydraulic door activate and open with a hiss of air. Kylo’s scent is what hits you first, so strong and consuming that it could bring you to your knees. Smoked wood with maple oozing from its center, dusted with the spice of cinnamon that makes your mouth water, heightened to an extreme degree. You piece together what it means—his rut started. You’re sure that’s why all of the Knights fled, knowing how at risk they were of getting ripped in two if Kylo saw them around his omega while he was in the peak of a rut. He gets dangerous and volatile towards those around him, more so than he already is, so for the safety of the ship, the two of you lock yourselves away until it’s over.

“Kylo-” You start when you finally see him, his presence sucking all of the air out of the room, commanding you to look at him, only him. He reaches you in quick strides, his helmet coming off halfway so you can see his eyes that have been swallowed by his pupils, the rosy tint to his face. He kisses you before you can say another word, crashing your mouths together, and reaches behind you to unclip your collar for the first time in over a week. You chirp gratefully for it, for being free of the way it would scratch your glands, your scent now fully uninhibited and swirling around his.

He picks you up with ease, your legs coming to wrap around his waist, his hands assuredly leaving bruises on your thighs. He takes you to the bedroom, lying you stomach-down on the freshly changed sheets and his weight presses you entirely into the mattress, his crotch rubbing against your ass with each shift of his body. One hand crawls up your neck to firmly grip your jaw, forcing your lips open to stick his gloved index and middle against your tongue. The leather is rich and dry, instantly soaking up the saliva that pools in your mouth. He noses at your scent gland, a displeased growl rumbling in his chest that makes you freeze. “You fucking reek of my Knights. I can tell they covered you in cum,” He says lowly, a shiver traveling down your spine. He knows how much enjoyment they derived from having their scents on you, from pretending that you were only theirs for a brief moment, that it wasn’t his teeth indented on your neck. You were a perfect little toy for them, he can see it in your memories. “Should I fuck you in front of them? Show them who really owns you?”

Your responding objection is high and keening, your nails digging into the blankets as you try to worm your way out from under him. It’s ultimately unsuccessful given how much heavier he is and corded with muscle, and it only serves to get you pinned further. “What’s that? I can’t hear you,” Kylo taunts, finally releasing your mouth so you can gasp for a full breath.

“No, no, please- I only want you Kylo, please-” You beg. You’ve been put through a lot this past week, and you think being spread and knotted in front of those six hungry, depraved alphas like a bitch in heat would be your breaking point.

“That’s what I thought,” He snarls, inclining his head downwards to take your mating gland and bite. Oxygen is punched from your lungs, your hands scrabbling uselessly at the thick arm next to your head as your bond is renewed. Your mixed scents burst together, your senses overloaded so the sole thing you can think of and feel is him. You feel your arousal begin to drip, your body so desperate for your mate, silently pleading with him to give you his knot. His teeth release you with a pop, your mark now nice and fresh, small beads of red coming to the surface where his canines have punctured. He licks over it instinctually while yanking your pants down, taking your underwear with them, and tossing them with abandon.

He tilts your ass up, giving him better access so he can plunge his first two fingers into your cunt. You make a choked sort of noise as he scissors you open, slick lazily oozing out around his knuckles, preparing you for the girth of his cock. “Still so tight, even with my Knights keeping you busy,” He mutters half to himself while your cheeks are on fire. You open-mouth pant as he puts pressure on your gummy walls, as the heel of his palm grinds against your clit. Tears well in your eyes with the sensation of an oncoming orgasm, your pussy spasming, your moans growing in pitch. They quickly switch to a frustrated groan when you find yourself abruptly empty, your hips shifting backwards in an attempt to chase his fingers.

”Need to feel you on my cock,” Kylo says roughly as some sort of explanation, flipping you over onto your back so he can see your flushed face. He tosses your shirt off, and his is quick to follow, though he has a few more layers to deal with than you do. While he throws his tunic over his head, your nipples pebble in the cold air of the room, goosebumps rising along your arms. He rips his gloves off so the entire upper half of him is bare, every scar and sculpted muscle presented to you. He doesn’t bother with his pants, instead just undoing them enough to free himself. He encompasses you with his wide body, your nails digging into his shoulders while he brings a warm palm up to grope your tits. He massages the soft skin, occasionally pinching your nipple between his fingers, liking the way you arch into it.

Kylo uses his other hand to guide his cock, dragging the head through your folds to collect your slick and then bullying himself inside. Your legs fall open around him, your noises barely more than breaths as he fills you to the point you think you can feel him in your gut when he bottoms out. “Shit,” He hisses, his back rippling as he props himself up on his arms, fingers digging into the blankets on either side of you. The only thing on your mind is his scent, his face, his body, his cock hot and pulsing inside of you, and how happy your omega is about all of it.

He drags himself out to the tip and then slams back in, doing it a few more times before quickly finding his pace. He fucks deep into you, kissing your cervix with each stroke, letting your pussy mold itself around him. Your wet heat swallows him, his rut-addled brain unable to think beyond this, beyond needing to claim, claim, claim. It eases the unbridled rage he’d been simmering in ever since his rut began halfway through the expedition, Kuruk and Cardo giving him a wide berth the entire time. He’d done his best to take it out on the rogues he was fighting on the planet he would take for the Order, but when he was out of the battle and alone with his thoughts, every primal instinct within him screamed about how badly Kylo needed his omega and the fact that you weren’t there. Knowing the Knights he left behind were probably all over you made it worse, getting so bad that at one point he brawled with Cardo, beating the other Knight bloody just to release his tension.

He inhales sharply when you cum around him, your cunt gripping his cock like a vice, making it difficult to pull out, the rush of slick splattering your thighs and staining his pants. You tremble underneath him, your eyes glazed over, your tits bouncing as he pounds into you harder, chasing the release he can feel at the end of his spine. “This is all you wanted, isn’t it? Just wanted your alpha’s knot after having to spend so long with those brutes?” Kylo says, grunting with the effort. All you can manage is a pathetic nod and a slurred moan of his name, too fucked out to properly respond. His next words are said against your collarbone, his dark hair falling around his face and tickling your skin. “My poor omega. Just needed me to fuck you right.”

His knot steadily inflates at the base of his cock, and his thrusts become more erratic, jerkier. Kylo twitches and throbs in your cunt, and he can only manage a few seconds longer and then he’s stuffing you with his knot until you wonder if you’ll break, utterly stretched to your limit. He paints your walls white with a seemingly endless gush of cum, some of the excess managing to leak out and drip onto the sheets. You swear he came straight into your womb, filling you to the brim, pushing it in further as he rides out the last waves of his orgasm, shallowly rolling his hips. He stays propped above you for a moment more, collecting his breath, before gathering you up and turning over so you’re lying on his chest.

He sits in the upstairs lounge with his little sister, Hollan, a book now laid idly in his lap. He couldn’t get past another page because he kept glancing longingly out the window, distracted by how badly he wished to be out there. He huffs, deciding that he’s finally had enough of staying within the confines of the dark-wood manor his family’s called home for the past five months. “Hey, Hollan,” he begins, “want to go to the market with me?”

She perks up instantly from her spot sprawled on the floor, paper and pens strewn around her. “Yes. I’m tired of drawing. It’s boring in here.”

“Let’s go ask mom then,” He says, setting his book aside and getting off the couch. Hollan hops to her feet eagerly, eyes shining with the amount of excitement only a six-year-old could have. She follows him downstairs to the foyer, where you’ve been busy talking with a diplomat for the past half hour. It’s another one of your small tasks in the grand scheme of things, taking unimportant meetings off Kylo’s plate and handling them in his stead. It’s most of what you’ve been doing while he’s away on a short expedition, one that’s only lasted three days with him scheduled to make it back this evening in time for the Star Sight Festival. Cade can tell you’re wrapping it up, so he and Hollan wait patiently to the side until the diplomat is shaking your hand with a smile and a farewell.

”Is it okay if I take Hollan to the market with me?” He asks you. “The bookstore is getting a new shipment today and I want to get there before it’s all picked through, and Hollan really likes looking at the shops.”

“Yeah! I wanna see what stuff they got,” She adds.

Cade watches you consider it, humming in thought. “Well… since your dad is out for the day I guess it should be alright…” You know how much Kylo hates letting the kids out on their own without you or himself to accompany them, terrified of the idea that they’d get taken by someone with enough power to do so. You can feel your husband’s displeasure at your decision across your bond before you’ve even said it. “Fine, but keep a close eye on your sister, and make sure your lightsaber is on you at all times. Take one of the guards with you as well.”

He sighs begrudgingly. He hears this spiel every time they go out somewhere. “I know, I know. I will.” His lightsaber is always on him anyway, ever since he got it. It was just over a year ago, when his father brought him to a planet that felt ancient beneath his feet. The crystal caves were mesmerizing, an abundance of different colors reflecting off one another, the kyber crystals thrumming with a subtle, entrancing tune. Cade couldn’t explain the way he was pulled to one end of the cave, how one crystal in particular called out to him and seemed as though it had been put there just for him. He used his Force abilities to take the crystal from the rock, something inside of him clicking into place when he held the stone of such a bright yellow that it was almost white in his hands. The surprise from his father at the color was subtle, hidden on his face, but nonetheless felt through their shared connection. Kylo had helped him forge the hilt, a sleek, beautiful mold made of silver and black metal, and it's been attached to his belt ever since.

As for their guard, Cade already knows who will be accompanying them. She goes by Vesken, and she stands nearby with one other, tall and spine straight, uniform freshly pressed, blood red hair styled into a messy wolf-cut laid against her shoulders. There’s polished armor attached to her forearms and thighs, with a blaster on each hip and a vibrosword in its sheath on the back of her belt. Her unnervingly silver eyes gleam expectantly, like she’s well aware that she’ll be chosen. She’s been around the longest out of the five guards that surround their family, brought on just before Hollan was born, and after being thoroughly vetted by Kylo. You had your suspicions that it was his way of replacing the Knights he had to kill on Exegol, his way of reforming a group he could trust to protect the only people that mattered to him in all the galaxy.

Vesken used to be an assassin, an excellently trained and deadly one, with scars aplenty hidden underneath her clothes. No one knows her true age except possibly Kylo, but Cade has guessed she is beyond the age of a normal human, despite looking no older than thirty. She’s well acquainted with both him and Hollan, occasionally playing as their teacher when there’s a subject she’s well versed in, and often being the one to watch them when their parents are away.

“Vesken, will you please join us?” Cade asks her.

She dips her head, a barely-there smile playing on the corners of her lips. “Of course, prince.”

“Mommy, can you do my hair please?” Hollan asks you, even though she seems like she’ll hardly be able to sit still long enough.

“Absolutely, sweetheart. C’mere,” You say, nodding towards the couches set up in the foyer around a table with half-eaten delicacies scattered across it. Hollan plops down beside you on the cushions, kicking her legs while your fingers comb through her tresses with all the gentleness in the world. Hollan’s hair is jet black like Cade’s—like their father’s—but her eyes are just like yours. Where Cade could almost be a replica of Kylo, Hollan is more of a nice mix between you two, with a rounded face and a strong nose. You finish your work quickly, taming Hollan’s mane into the half-up, half-down style that she’s deemed to be her favorite. When you’re done, she whips her small ponytail back and forth experimentally with a gap-toothed grin.

“Thanks, mommy!” She exclaims happily, hopping down.

“You’re welcome,” You respond with a smile of your own. Then you stand before them and hold them by the shoulders so they both have to endure a kiss on the forehead. Cade pretends to wipe it away dramatically and Hollan sticks out her tongue. “Be careful, you hear me? The market will be busier than usual today with the festival being tonight, and be back before your father gets home around dinner time.”

“We will, mom,” Cade assures you.

“I’ll watch over them, empress,” Vesken says with a hand pressed to her heart and a small, dutiful bow.

“I have no doubt, Vesken. Alright, be off then. Have fun,” You say, playfully shooing them away.

Cade doesn’t have to be told twice. He’s glad to be out the door and to feel the sun on his face, Hollan running a bit ahead of him with her arms thrown wide. They’re halfway down the small hill to the manor when he turns back to wave at you, knowing you’d be watching them leave from the front steps.

» ☆ «

The market is a bustling, lively thing.

Banners of different blue and purple shades hang from balconies and lampposts, ribbons with intricate constellations sewn into their fabric laced overtop, and special arrangements of flowers are settled into large pots placed periodically along the streets. There’s excitement buzzing in the air too, crackling like the embers from a fire, all for the Star Sight Festival. Cade can feel it pressing into him through the Force as soon as they reach the market’s border. Before they go any further, he makes Hollan take his gloved hand and swear she won’t let go even though she pouts. Vesken hangs back from them, keeping enough distance so that it’s not obvious she’s their guard, but close enough that if anything were to happen, she could intervene.

Cade’s hit with an abundance of smells as he lets the market atmosphere envelop him fully. The savory and sweet scents of food, the overlaying musk of so many bodies pressed together, the floral aroma from all the bouquets—it’s exactly what he needed after so long inside. One of his favorite things to do is explore whatever shopping or trading center is on the planet the Order is stopped at; it allows him to see so many different things, to experience so many different walks of life.

He weaves his way expertly through the crowd, keeping a firm grip on his sister’s hand, and trying not to be tempted by everyone peddling their wares. During the one other trip he made to the market, he discovered how rustic so many of the things being sold are. It’s things from the old times, from ages and planets that didn’t know such advanced technology, and it’s things that he’d probably have to search up in the First Order archives to fully understand their purpose. He loves it, and he so badly desires to use his generous allowance to buy one of everything.

He manages to stay focused on the path to the bookstore. It’s secluded, tucked behind an alley, making it easy to slip inside with a cheerful bell above the door announcing him. Cade takes a deep breath of the book smell, so wonderfully comforting and yet rare nowadays. He doesn’t care how many things he can read from the holopads provided by the Order, he’ll always prefer having something physical and worn in his hands. There are a few other patrons inside the shop, and it seems like he made it just in time; a worker with purple skin and small horns along the edges of her face is busy putting out the new titles from their shipment. He takes his time perusing through them and pointing some out to Hollan that he thinks she’d like so she doesn’t get horribly bored and fussy.

He ends up purchasing five titles—three for himself and two for his sister, though with less self-restraint he would’ve bought the whole store. “Is there anywhere you want to go, Hollan?” Cade asks her, heading back outside where Vesken is waiting for them.

The six-year-old takes a second to consider it, clearly thinking hard, before her face lights up. “The pen store!”

His brows furrow in confusion. He doesn’t know any stores by that name or category except- “Oh, you mean Ink and Quill? With the calligraphy supplies?”

“Yeah! I wanna go there!” She exclaims, tugging on his hand for emphasis.

They’d passed the place a couple of times before, and it always fascinated Hollan. The inky, papery smell that belongs to the shop is reminiscent of the scent that would linger on Kylo after a long night spent in his office, when there were more physical documents to sign off on rather than scans on a holopad. Then she caught a glimpse of the calligraphy set their father kept tucked away and unused in a closet aboard the Steadfast. Hollan took up a special interest in it, occasionally pestering you or Kylo to show her how to use it with the excuse that it would help her write better. She’s much like Cade, the two of them sharing a curiosity for older objects just like the calligraphy set, and he can see it showing in her expression as she absorbs everything within the market.

They walk through the streets, pass by sellers shouting out their newest sales to drum up business, and skirt around the long lines of popular food stalls. When they step into Ink and Quill, it’s like a blanket of quiet falls over them, like this is a place undisturbed by the outside world. A man with deep blue hair nods at them in greeting from near the counter, then continues his restock of the dip pens. Lining the walls are heavy scrolls of paper, ink bottles, and all kinds of different pens and accessories. Hollan’s hand slips out of his so that she can go look, her head turning in every direction. In one of the corners, a worker is doing a demonstration of one of their calligraphy sets for a Twi’lek, and Hollan lingers around them, eager to get a view of the neat brush strokes, the glossy black of the ink as it sets into the paper.

“Excuse me,” Cade begins, grabbing the attention of the blue-haired man, “I was wondering if you guys have anything that would be suitable for someone younger? My little sister loves this kind of thing but she doesn’t need anything super intricate or expensive just yet.”

The employee pauses to think, then sets down what he was working on. “We don’t have anything made for children specifically, but this is what you’d be looking for,” He says, motioning towards a section with smaller pens and glasses of ink. It’s obvious that they’re lower in quality, but that’s what he’d prefer for a girl just getting the hang of writing. She probably wouldn’t even use the calligraphy set yet, Cade guesses, but it’d be good to have.

“Hollan, c’mere,” He calls, to which she abandons the demonstration and hurries over. “What do you think of something like this? I think you’d do good with a set of your own.”

She looks from the items to him, almost in disbelief. “Really?”

The corner of his mouth quirks with a smile. “Yeah. I’m sure dad would teach you how to actually use it.”

“Yes! Thank you!” She says, bouncing on her toes.

They leave the store with a brush pen and fountain pen, a small bottle of ink, and a bundle of thick paper. Cade figured the brush pen would be easiest for her to start with and then she can move up when she’s ready. He carries the bag on his left arm with his books while his right hand is occupied by keeping hold of Hollan, doing his best to ignore the weight of his purchases digging into his crooked elbow. “Let’s take some time to browse, hm?” He says, glancing up at the sun and knowing they still have a good few hours to kill. Hollan agrees enthusiastically.

They wander until something catches someone’s eye and they take a moment to inspect, to decide if they’d want to bring it home, before moving on. There’s a shop selling skulls of rare creatures, a greasy man swathed in layers trying to get unsuspecting victims to buy fake kyber crystals, a weaver offering what she calls “the highest quality cloaks you can find”. There are old journals that Cade takes interest in, and then there’s a spot where Hollan pulls his hand so she can stop and study some shiny, odd looking toys.

The sun is halfway into the sky when they come upon the grocer, and Cade glances through the crates of produce, looking for star fruit, a speciality to this planet that you’ve fallen in love with. It’s aptly named for its pointed shape and yellow color, and you often request it from the kitchens, though last he heard they were running low. He finds a plethora of them off to the side, and starts picking through them for the best ones. He ignores any with bruises or nasty marks, and he lets himself be roped into the deal of ten for five. It’s when he’s handing over the credits that he stupidly realizes that he let go of his sister to inspect fruit, and that she is no longer beside him.

His stomach sinks so hard and fast that he feels like he could vomit. He whirls around in a frenzy, his chest constricting painfully, a cold sweat having begun under his clothes. “Hollan?!” He yells, but it’s impossible to be heard over the sea of bodies in the market. He tries again to no avail, and panic takes over his mind. He lost his sister, oh gods his father is actually going to kill him, and you might too just for good measure. Cade desperately pushes civilians to the side, still calling Hollan’s name, and almost collapses in relief when he sees her just across the street. She’s enraptured by some fuzzy creature in a cage, and she yelps when Cade roughly grabs her arm.

“I told you not to wander off, Hollan!” He shouts, his chest still heaving while his brain struggles to get in enough oxygen to think clearly again. “Do you have any idea what could’ve happened?”

Tears immediately spring forth, her lower lip trembling. Her own unstable Force signature is eager to feed off his turbulent emotions, mirroring them back to her. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

He sighs, softening almost immediately. He crouches down to her level. “I know. I’m sorry I yelled, you just scared me. You can get lost really easily in a place like this, so you have to stay by my side, okay? No matter what.”

She nods, avoiding his gaze while she stubbornly wipes at her eyes. Cade is vaguely aware that Vesken was probably locked in on Hollan the entire time, that she wouldn’t have let anyone near her, and one glance at their guard boring holes into them through the crowd proves him right. Vesken has a habit of leaving him to flounder and figure things out himself in moments of crisis, even if it scares the shit out of him, and he supposes this is one of those moments. Tough love, she’d probably call it.

“How about we go get some lunch? I think it’ll make both of us feel better,” Cade offers, glad when his sister perks up a little.

They find a place that’s small, somewhere that isn’t packed and they won’t have to wait an hour to get food. It’s also near the large fountain in the town square where a band has been playing, their music enchanting and in a language he doesn’t know all that well. Cade lets Hollan order whatever she wants, and they both enjoy a hot meal bursting with savory flavors. It’s after he gets a pleading look from Hollan that he also gets them a dessert of fried dough covered in a heap of sugar paired with a sweet berry sauce. Cade can sense his sister’s enjoyment, coming through their budding Force bond as sparks and bright colors, and it makes him smile.

With sugar still dusting their faces, they head into the square to properly enjoy the music. The wind instruments carry through the air, the drums reverberate in Cade’s chest, and the song makes something in him want to run through the woods just to feel nature all around him. Thanks to their father and his desire to keep his children concealed to the best of his ability, Cade and Hollan are mostly unknown by the common population, so they can sway and dance to the tune in peace just like everyone else. It’s what you wanted for them—being able to enjoy the small things, to know that there’s more out there beyond the First Order, beyond giving your life to a cause. He’s always been appreciative of that, especially after hearing stories from both you and Kylo, and after the turbulent experience that was his formative years. Seeing the unburdened joy within his sister and knowing she won’t have to struggle the same makes him grateful.

» ☆ «

Blue has turned to orange and the sun is saying its goodbyes when Cade, Hollan, and Vesken are making their way back up the hill to the manor. He knows they’re late based on the amount of shuttles now parked in the ship yard, and he just hopes you won’t give him too much of an earful. With heavy arms from his purchases and Hollan dragging her tired feet behind him, he pushes open the double doors to the foyer, where you and Kylo stand talking to each other. Officers are idling nearby, awaiting further orders from their emperor and occupying themselves with their holopads in the meantime.

Kylo is in his usual attire, having just come from his completed expedition. His dark robes and the heavy cape attached to his collar makes him cut an intimidating figure paired with the scars marring the skin of his face. Silver hair has begun to just barely dust his temples, though it gets quickly swallowed by the thick strands of black.

“Daddy!” Hollan exclaims, instantly rejuvenated at the sight of their father, taking a running start towards him.

“Hello, sweetness,” Kylo says, crouching down to easily catch and scoop her up, holding her against his hip.

While she tells him all about her new calligraphy set and makes him promise to show her how to use it one day, you give Cade a knowing look, the silent judgement of his tardiness enough to make him sheepish. He holds out the star fruit as a peace offering. “Sorry?”

You hesitate, pursing your lips, eyeing him and then the fruit before you relent with a sigh. “I’ll let you off the hook this time. Just don’t let it happen again,” You say. You take the gift from him and brush some of his hair back so you can place a kiss on his forehead once again. “Thank you, honey. Did you have a good time? I see you bought quite a bit.”

He laughs. “Yeah, I went a little overboard, I think. I just want to grab as much as I can before we leave this planet. It has so many interesting things.”

“Well, if you find yourself missing it a whole bunch, I can always bring you back here no problem,” You offer.

Cade beams. “Thanks, mom.”

“Now both of you go get cleaned up for dinner. The festival will be starting in almost an hour and I want you to eat first,” You order, ushering him and Hollan upstairs.

When they come back down, all of the officers have disappeared, delegated to their respective tasks by you or Kylo, and Vesken has been allowed to retire for the night, meaning it’s just your little family around the table. Cade recounts everywhere he and his sister had gone, everything they had seen in the market, like the band in the square and all the pretty decorations for the festival. He’s been looking forward to the actual event ever since you told him the Order would be staying on the surface for another week, and he spent that time reading all about it. The Star Sight Festival always happens on the forty-fifth night of summer, and on that night, hundreds of shooting stars streak across the sky, creating a brilliant display. It was said that centuries ago, prophets would use the stars' fall to read visions and predict the outcome of the following year. He can’t wait to see it for himself.

After dinner is done and the plates are cleared away, Cade and Hollan can hardly sit still with their anticipation. There’s a watchtower at the edge of the property that will give them a perfect view of the sky, and you tell them and Kylo to go on ahead while you put together some final touches. Once they’re gone, an attendant helps you into a special outfit that had been gifted by an ambassador of the planet, specially tailored to you just for the festival. It’s a beautiful piece—a light and airy suit with a deep neckline and wide, flowing sleeves, colored in a beautiful ombré of white, blue, and dark purple, with what look like little stars dotted into the fabric. It’s made of a silky material that sits nicely against your skin, and the translucent white cape sewn into the shoulders flows behind you like a trail of stardust when you climb the steps of the watchtower.

Hollan is the first to notice you as you reach the top, a little gasp leaving her. “You look so pretty, mommy!”

You smile, smoothing over a small wrinkle in the pants. “Thank you, baby.”

Your husband can’t take his eyes off of you, especially with the way the moon shines down on you, illuminating you like you’re something not of this world, of this solar system. He doesn’t hesitate to draw you into his side. “You’re beautiful,” Kylo murmurs close to your ear, a subtle heat blooming in your cheeks as his hand settles at the base of your spine.

“It’s starting!” Cade says, hurrying to the railing of the outlook, eyes wide and sparkling as the first shooting stars dash across the black canvas of night. Then they begin to appear in earnest, until the whole sky is full of them. Even though you’ve spent much of your life in space, few things compare to getting to watch unique astral phenomena such as this, with hundreds upon hundreds of stars lighting up the earth while folk sing and dance and play in the town just below.

You lift Hollan into your arms so she can see better, chuckling at her slack-jawed expression while she cranes her neck all the way back. The very beginning of the festival is the main attraction, though there will be celebrations held until dawn, and shooting stars will continue to fall in lesser numbers until the rising sun makes them impossible to see. You bask in this peaceful moment, with your family surrounding you and the Force washing over you like a tranquil stream, allowing you to let your worries slip from your mind for just a few hours.

You lose track of how long you stand there, looking up, and you’re only snapped out of it when you realize that Hollan has gone limp against you, her head tucked into the crook of your neck. You huff a small laugh, well aware of how worn out she must be from having spent the day with her brother and with all the excitement of the festival. “Cade,” you say softly, “would you mind taking your sister to bed? We’ll be back down to the manor in a little while.”

“Sure, mom,” Cade says, fighting a yawn.

“You do the same, alright? You need to get some sleep so you’ll have the energy to start packing tomorrow.” You tell him while carefully transferring your daughter. She only grumbles a little, but thankfully doesn’t wake. Cade nods and then disappears down the stairs.

You join Kylo at the railing, your arms brushing against each other’s while a gentle breeze blows through your capes. “Aren’t you glad I convinced you to stay here a little longer?” You ask teasingly, nudging his shoulder.

He hums contemplatively. “Yes, I guess it is nice. The kids clearly enjoyed it.” He turns to you, cupping your jaw, tilting your face so he can meet your lips with his. It’s gentle and warm, a simple declaration of love with the stars to bear witness.

It would be so, so easy to get lost in it, in him, but you force yourself to pull away, a hand resting on his chest. “Come with me, I have something to show you,” You say with a glint in your eye. Kylo doesn’t object, merely letting you take him by the hand out of the watchtower and into the connected observatory that’s been mostly abandoned. It’s hardly ever used, which means that the massive, empty space with its domed glass roof is perfect to act as your own private ballroom. Kylo follows your lead, knowing exactly where your train of thought is going, and next thing you know, your bodies are pressed together and you’re following simple, swaying moves to the music that filters in through the walls. The songs of the festival have taken a quieter turn, string instruments being replaced with flutes and pipes, the heavy smacks of drums becoming a rhythmic tap.

You rest your head just under Kylo’s chin with a content sigh. “I like this. I can’t remember the last time we danced.”

“It was at our wedding,” Kylo responds, thinking back on it.

You scoff. “That was almost eight years ago now.”

Your wedding had been a small affair, brought on after Kylo expressed his desire to be with you in more than just name, to put a ring on your finger so everyone knew what you were to him. It hadn’t been anything huge or grandiose, it was only a signing of documents and an exchange of expertly crafted rings, with just Cade and a few First Order officials present. After it’d been done, you’d had a quiet moment together where you danced just like this, hand in hand.

It makes you smile to remember it, and as Kylo holds you close with an arm around your waist, you decide that if you could stay here for an eternity with shooting stars overhead, music surrounding you, and your heart feeling lighter than it’s ever been, you would.

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆ .。.:*