I wish they had explored more about Kylo Ren’s power in the movies. I felt so much potential in TFA, when he paralyzes Poe’s blaster shot. How terrifying! What a waste we didn’t see Kylo Ren at his full strength… Imagine how powerful he would be!
This is giving bittersweet goodbye vibes and now Iโm inspired ๐ฅบโฆ
Rey pulled back on Benโs hand as he led her to the carriage. โWhat do you mean youโre not coming?! I told you Iโm not leaving the city without you!โ
โItโs not safe here anymore. I wonโt let you stay and risk your life.โ He turned, cradling her face in his hands. โIโll come find you, I swear it. I canโt leave yet, not until I finish this. I know what I have to do.โ
Chin quivering, Rey lifted to her toes and pressed a searing kiss to his lips. The kind she hoped would haunt him and remind him of his promise every moment until they were finally together again.
โWhat you have to do is stay alive,โ she murmured, her words much more of a command than a request.
Benโs lips curled in a half smile. โFor you? Always.โ
One more heated kiss, and before Rey knew it she was traveling through the darkness on the bumpy road, watching out the window as the outline of her husband become smaller and smaller.
If things had been different, sheโd have fought him until he agreed to let her stay. She wouldnโt have left his side while she was still breathing, and sheโd risk her life to do so. But as it wasโฆ
Rey pressed a palm against her abdomen, smiling through the tears and reassuring herself softly.
How do you feel about “You cannot see me in my dress before the wedding!” or "My wife has a nice ring to it." with Steve <33 ? I feel like of all the Steve writers I’ve read out there you can really do a wedding with him justice💜💜
You were immeasurably grateful that the knock on the door came just after you had asked your bridesmaids to give you some time alone before the ceremony. Thinking that it was one of them- most likely Robin- coming back for something they had forgotten in the dressing room, you remained in your seat at the dressing table and waited for the person to walk in. A few second passed without the door opening and then another knock sounded, this time accompanied by a voice.
โBabe, are you there?โ
Your eyes widened and you twisted in your seat to stare at the door in disbelief.
Not the words you wanted your boyfriend to greet you with as soon as you got through the door. Shrugging your bag off of your shoulder and setting it on the shoe rack, you frowned at him.
โWhat did you do?โ
Steve shook his head.
โPromise you wonโt be mad first.โ
โTell me what youโve done and then Iโll promise,โ you countered, eyebrows raised.
additional notes ; โdrowning in oversized sweatersโ prompt used. thank you, bubba, stevie in sweaters is something i need to see </33
steve never wears knitted sweaters, more of a sweatshirt wearing man or just a plain jacket if heโs cold. he has a nice style, tons of polo shirts or pretty coloured sweatshirts you usually find yourself coddled against.
hi hi!! how are you? can i request a steve x reader where reader has been working a lot and is really sleepy and just wants to cuddle with steve and steve’s trying to cook dinner or something but ends up just giving up cause he can’t say no to u?? thanks honey <33
hi baby im great thanks so much for your request! ♡ fem!reader
“I miss you,” you say softly.
It’s your softness that gives Steve pause where he’s standing in front of the grill, an oven mitt already in hand.
“Why’d you miss me? I’m right here,” he says with a wide smile, hoping to infect your tired mood with a great boost of happiness.
You smile at him for a second and then lean against the doorway. You’re all sweetness like a gaussian blur of a girl tonight. Messy hair, your untucked and rumpled shirt pulled out of your skirt, one crew sock up and one fallen down. There’s a downturn to your eyes. You blink slowly and often.
He turns from you reluctantly and pulls the garlic bread out from under the grill.
Steve misses the pad of your foot fall and flinches involuntarily at your hands wrapping around his front. He feels awful as soon as he does — you’ve never once given him a reason to flinch.
You don’t take any offense. You lay your cheek against his shoulder and he covers your hands placatingly.
“Gotta finish dinner, pretty girl,” he murmurs.
You nuzzle into him, your cheek sliding back and forth. He looks down at your hands, smaller in his, prettier. There’s a very minute trembling to them that betrays your fatigue.
