BEN SOLO X READER ONESHOTS

trouble II (smuggler!ben)

!!!content warning: torture by a male figure.

Your breath is steady, calm, it's the first thing you notice when you come back to life. Eyes shooting open, you scan the black room. You're strapped to a table, metal around your arms and both your legs. Turning your head, you glance down at your right arm.

It's still got a handcuff on it. Seems as though whoever took you - though you have an inkling as to who it is - didn't bother to nurse your arm. BB-3 really did some damage to you, huh?

"It's about time," a deep voice pulls your gaze up, and you look to see the figure of a man, "We were about to electrocute you awake."

Sucking on both your cheeks, you glare at the circling figure, staying silent.

"Quiet one." He notes, stepping into the light, "We have ways of making you talk."

He has a strangers face but a familiar tone. You wonder what he's truly trying to achieve here. Narrowing your eyes at him, you give him a small smirk, "That's a bit cliche, don't you think?"

He smirks back, gently reaching a hand around your broken arm, "I never get tired of hearing the screams from people I torture."

He stares into your eyes the entire time, the pressure he applies on your arm building and building until he jerks it up, making you scream in agony. The pain is so immense, you can't help but lift your hips in the air as you shout.

"Where is it?!" He shouts, his face beside yours as he yells in your ear, "I know you have it. Where is the disc?!"

"I don't know-"

He grips your arm again, hearing your squeal turn into an animalistic groan. The tears come quickly. "Tell me!"

"No!" You shout, trying to kick your legs as an outlet for the pain and adrenaline pumping through your body, "No! I don't know!"

"Your friend... Ben Solo," he announces, pushing your arm away and standing up casually, "You two are in this together, yes?" He stares at you, watching the tears fall down your cheeks steadily. You sniff quietly, turning away from him. "Ah, ah, ah," he tsks, his hand gripping your chin and facing your head towards him, "Yes or no?" His nails dig into your skin.

"Y-Yes." You cry, cringing at the feeling of his breath on your mouth. You can't help but close your eyes, fear making your heart pick up speed.

"You know he took it from our grasp?" The man questions, his fingers pressing deeper into your chin and making you whimper, "From the wrecks of the Death Star?"

"Yes." You lie.

"I'm pleased... so pleased - to see you cooperating." He inhales shakily, letting go of your chin harshly and stepping away, "Where is it now?"

"I don't know." You answer honestly, taking a nervous gulp as you anticipate the oncoming pain he's going to inflict.

"We'll see."

Gasping awake, you feel a pair of hands on your shoulders and you freak out. Pushing the person away from you, you scream at the pain in your arm, falling to the floor with how much it hurts. You're on your knees, breath heavy and tears falling down your face. Your whole body aches and you barely remember how you got into this cell.

"Y/N! Hey, hey, hey," the stormtrooper whispers, holding his hands up to remove his helmet, "It's me! It's Ben!"

Looking up and seeing a familiar face, you let out a sigh of relief. You almost cry even harder at the fact that he's here. Ben takes one look at your face and he can already feel the anger coursing through his veins. Your face is bruised already, mostly punk but purple and green some places. You have a cut on your dry lips. And not to mention your arm, it's covered in bloody cuts, turning purple and red at the way it hangs by your side; no doubt broken, by the look of it, cut right across the middle of your forearm.