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Chapter Text

Your stomach was churning as you walked to work.

Being stationed at Starkiller Base was supposed to have been one of the biggest achievements of your career. Here you were, a fledgling engineer, already a few months in at your assignment to operate within the elite fleets of the First Order. Of course, you felt pride, but there was another feeling that was burrowing into the back of your skull.

Fear.

What if you failed? What if their promotion had been in error? After all, you’d only been out of your training for a little over a year, and most engineers your age were still stuck working on the endless supply of basic TIE fighters docked on Star Destroyers. Maybe you should have been with them. Only one other engineer in your cohort—Sam—had come with you to Starkiller.

Sam caught you at the end of the corridor, fingers grazing your shoulder. You spun around, blood biting at your cheeks as you met his sky blue eyes and gleaming smile. Though you had lived in the shadow made by his success as an engineer, you had thought he was hot since--well, forever.

“Hey! I haven’t seen you in over a week!” he said. Genuine crinkles of joy were at the corners of his eyes.

“Hey,” you said, wanting to seem calm despite the spark igniting between your legs. “Guess I’ve just been busy.”

Sam’s stride fell to your pace, eyebrow raising. “Busy, huh?”

Dread crept down your spine. There was another reason fear dominated your days at work. “Yeah. You know. Another Command Shuttle emergency.” You narrowed your eyes at him.

He exposed his teeth with a wide grin. “Not my fault. Should have been quicker with your blaster!”

You rolled your eyes. “Your idea was rigged from the start. You’d knew I’d lose your little fake shoot-out and get saddled with the stupid shuttle.” How many times had Sam started off his shift with the smell of crackling communication boards?

“That’s how the chips fall,” Sam replied with a smirk.

Blushing against your will, you smiled back. “Uh huh.”

“So...” Sam said.

“Before you ask, no,” you said, frowning. “I’ve never seen him. And I wanna keep it that way, okay?”
Sam’s eyebrows shot up to his hairline. “What? No way! You don’t want to see him, just once?”

You were tired of the conversation already. “If you want to see him so badly, you can trade assignments with me,” you said, beaming at him.

He laughed out loud. “No way. I’ve heard he can read thoughts. I wouldn’t want him catching mine.”

Your stomach twisted in another knot. “Then you can understand why I’d prefer him to stay as far away from me as possible.”

Sam laughed again and patted your shoulder, causing electricity to shoot through your body. “You’re so funny,” he said. He pointed to the next turn as he pulled away from you. “Here’s my stop. We’ll talk later. Good luck today, okay?”

You rolled your eyes again. “See ya.” You watched him walk down the hall, noticing how good his butt looked in his pants, and bit your lip. As you made the last leg of your journey towards the docking bay, your mind turned back to the ever-growing anxiety in your chest. The idea of having your mind read brought you unease.

The stress of working on the Command Shuttle was as burdensome as it was irritating. Not only were you expected to keep the auxiliary and main thrusters in pristine condition, but more than once you ended up surveying an inordinate amount of damage caused to the interior panels or seats. The budget that the Chief Engineer had estimated—based off of last year’s totals—was looking thin.

Today’s present came in the form of deep slashes melted into the archway of the cockpit entry. You ran your fingers along the waves of curling metal, noting that the saber strokes had managed stay within the frame of the entrance. It’d be a simple replacement, and coordinating it wouldn’t take up most of your day--so you might even get to inspect the plasma cannon that you heard whining the day before.

You walked off of the ship and began jotting details into the diagnostics terminal built into the wall. As you finished up your notes, your errant mind cursed your Commander. If it weren’t for his abominable temper, maybe your skills might be recognized for more than clean-up.

Bitterness hit your tongue as you thought about Sam receiving constant accolades for his work, while you trailed behind with a garbage can, collecting broken machinery. A buzzing energy was picking up around you, the distant, powerful chorus of stomping boots barely registering in your ears. They were here. Phasma, Hux, and--

Heart racing, you turned on your heel, wanting to find something, anything to make yourself busy. Any sense of courage you thought you had was lost as you scurried onto the Command Shuttle, hoping that it was a walk-through and not an investigation. Unless it was an emergency, they wouldn’t be taking off in a damaged ship.

Deciding to entertain yourself with the cockpit, you sat down in one of the chairs and ran your hand across the panels of buttons and controls. You knew almost everything about how ships worked--but the Command Shuttle was a fascinating subject--it was an entirely new tier of quality.

It was too bad that its craftsmanship was so frequently being revised by the tantrums of a grown man. You wondered how anybody tolerated him. You certainly couldn’t, and you didn’t even know him.

“Jackass,” you huffed.

A sharp ringing ripped through your brain, a massive pressure building between your ears It was there and gone, followed by the sound of heavy steps onto the rampway into the ship. Your heartbeat picked up again, and you sprung from the cockpit chair and pretended to be inspecting the damage to the entrance again, though there wasn’t much left to see. The footsteps grew louder, more urgent, and beads of sweat grew on along your hairline.

As if you had skipped through time, they stopped, behind you, and you knew that it was him. It felt like a thousand eyes were boring into your skull. You swallowed the boulder-sized lump within your throat and turned to face him, not sure what to expect. Your breath caught in your throat as you took in the sight of him.

He was huge--much, much taller than you, covered completely in black robes--even his hands were encased in leather gloves. His face was obscured by the chrome and carbon helmet that you had heard so much about, and the rumors were true--it was way scarier in person. In fact, he was way scarier in person.

“Kylo Ren,” you said, like an absolute idiot. You snapped up straight. “I mean, excuse me, Commander.”

“You’re not excused,” he replied, his deep, synthetic voice pinging off the empty walls of the ship.

You felt your heart stop in your chest and you sucked in ten lungfuls worth of air. “I’m sorry?”

He took a step toward you, and you stepped back, your shoulders connecting with the frame you had supposedly been inspecting. “Mind sharing with me your theories of how people--what was it--tolerate me?” Even through the mask, his words were dripping with derision.

“How people--uh--I mean,” you said, words garbling in the realization that he had been reading your thoughts. The ringing had been him--he knew how much you resented him, how much you feared him. Your cheeks flooded with color.

Kylo Ren took another step toward you, his tall, black boots echoing the pounding of your own heart. Your eyes scanned his body, and you felt an energy radiating from him so thick it was nearly tangible. It was a tense, furious urgency, full of power.

“That’s an interesting way of putting it,” he said. “I have another idea, though.”

You were trembling. “Yes sir, Commander.” The words felt like paper in your dry mouth.

He moved closer still, and now his chest was inches from your face. A gloved hand pounded the wall next to your head, denting the metal. Your knees almost crumbled in fear. “Remember who it is that you work for.” He paused, seemingly examining your wide, terrified eyes. But who knew, for sure? Behind the helmet, he was imperceptible. “You are expendable. Understood?”

Your swallowed again and nodded. “Yes, sir.”

A moment passed--you weren’t sure if was minutes or seconds--and he withdraw his hand from the wall. He turned away from you. “Make sure you fix that, too.” You were a statue as he stalked off the ship, waiting until you heard the final footstep on the ramp before you dared to let a breath leave your chest.

“Ugh,” was all you could manage to say. You wanted to complain, but at this point, you didn’t even feel safe in your own mind. What was it about you that made him single you out? You were sure you couldn’t have been the only one to think unsavory thoughts about Kylo Ren. He couldn’t be that sensitive.

You turned your attention to the dimple he had left next to your head. Another simple repair, but your eye twitched knowing it was made just for you. You couldn’t decide who you were more irritated with--Ren for causing the damage, or yourself for antagonizing him.

The rest of the day passed with little interruption, and you had managed to coordinate for the repair to be completed tomorrow. You heard from one of the Stormtroopers as they passed that Hux had been pleased with the walk-through.

A sigh fell out of your chest. Of course the area that Sam worked in was perfection. Meanwhile, you had your life threatened by the Commander--you stopped your thought mid-complaint. You weren’t sure how far the radius of his power extended, but safe was better than sorry.

The thought of making food yourself made your shoulders slump into the floor. You made your way to the mess hall--it was mostly empty, though you’d only gotten off an hour late. Engineers worked long hours anyway. You ignored the trays and grabbed one of the nutrient-laden concoctions left out on the line. The balls of green jelly wiggled at you as you set it on the table.

Stress rolled off your back as you sat down and bit into the food. It didn’t taste particularly good--almost nothing did on Starkiller--but you needed this time alone to recharge. You couldn’t stop thinking about Kylo Ren, how tall he was, the way his voice sounded, the sheer weight of the power emanating from him. The influence he had was starting to make sense.

Out of the corner of your eye, you caught Sam passing by the entrance of the mess hall. Heart picking up, you wobbled your hand in what you intended to be a wave. He perked up and changed his direction, steering toward you now. Why did he have to be so damn chipper all the time?

“Hi, Sam,” you said. “You look like you had a good day.”

Sam sat across from you, face splitting in a smile. “It was! General Hux did a walk-through on my team’s fleet and said he had never seen the ships in such condition. He commended me and everything!” His voice lowered. “I even saw him. Kylo Ren.”

“Oh, really,” you said, voice trailing off. You weren’t sure why you even asked.

“Yes. He’s even scarier in person,” he said, leaning in closer. His voice was a hissing whisper. “He’s so tall!”

“I know,” you said. “I saw him too.”

“Really?”

“Yep,” you replied. You weren’t sure you wanted to tell Sam everything that had happened. “He walked on the shuttle while I was working on it and… told me to fix stuff.”

“Whoa,” Sam said, blue eyes illuminated with curiosity. “You heard him talk?”

You nodded, shoving food into your mouth. You needed time to think about what to tell him. After you swallowed, you shrugged. “Yeah. He’s a jerk.”

Sam leaned back in his chair, arms crossed. Maybe he was feeling protective of his fellow engineer. “What happened?”

“Uh,” you said. You thought of Kylo Ren’s hand slamming into the wall next to your ear, how the quaking metal rocked your body, and his deep, altered voice. You became aware that by talking about this anymore, you were tempting him. “Don’t really want to talk about it.”

“Come on,” Sam said, eyebrows knitting together. “You can tell me.”

You looked down at your food. There were only a couple of bites left, but you had lost your appetite. “I’m gonna head back to my room. Have a good night,” you said. You slid out of your seat and tossed the remnants of your meal in the garbage.

Arms folded across your chest, you marched back to your quarters, opened the lock, and smashed the button to close the sliding doors the second you passed over the threshold.

If only you had a sick day you could use.

Chapter Text

The dread pooling inside of you didn’t evaporate overnight, and as you dragged yourself to your post the next day, it only grew worse. You had thankfully avoided Sam by coming in early--he’d try to get you to talk about what happened yesterday. Besides, you wanted to get a head start on the repair, and maybe get a chance to work on literally any ship under your fleet assignment other than the Command Shuttle.

Starkiller was operational at all times, so the docking bay was still populated with officers and Stormtroopers who were ready to retire from the night shift. You tugged at the hem of your uniform as you passed by a unit. Starkiller was, surprisingly, an almost professional work environment, but you couldn’t help feel a bit self-conscious as one of the only female engineers on base.

Standing in front of the Command Shuttle, you already felt the energy draining from your body. You pulled yourself over to the diagnostic terminal and started to make your way through the tasks that still needed to be completed for the repair.

“Hey,” came a voice from behind you.

Your heart jumped. Were you that on edge? You turned to look the man in the eye--he was some officer--high-ranking, too. “Um, hi,” you replied.

“You the second engineer?” he asked, eyes scanning your body.

Heat crept into your face. “Y-yes, sir,” you replied, crossing your arms over your chest. “May I help you?”

He nodded. “General Hux wants you to report to command center at o-seven-hundred hours.”

An invisible fist clenched your heart. “Gen-General Hux?”

Another nod. “Yes ma’am. You’re the one who was working on the shuttle yesterday, weren’t you?” he asked, looking over your shoulder at the terminal.

“I was.”

“Then you’re the one he wants,” he replied, shrugging. It was clear that despite his rank, he wasn’t told much of anything.

You shook your head, holding your hands up. “No way,” you replied, “if he has questions, he’d be way better off asking Guerrin. He’s the Chief Engineer, and he knows way--”

“General Hux specifically requested your presence,” the officer replied. “I suggest you obey his command.” He nodded his head in your direction and strutted off.
Thankfully, you hadn’t had the appetite to eat this morning, or else the diagnostic terminal would have been plastered with your breakfast. The fist that was clenching your heart seemed to be tightening its grip. You checked the time. 0700 hours was in fifteen minutes.

“Nice notice, General,” you grumbled. With the walk to the command center, you might as well just shut down the terminal for now and make your way there. “So much for coming in early, I guess.”

You powered down the terminal and gripped its sides, drawing in a breath so deep that you started yawning. Good, yawning--now you really looked prepared to meet General Hux. You shook your head and began making your way to the command center.

As you passed through the door, Sam was walking toward you, on his way to his shift. He caught your gaze and picked up his pace, calling your name. His voice had a tinge of concern. Meanwhile, you wished that there was a hole in the ground for you to disappear into.

“What happened yesterday?” he asked, reaching out to you.

You dodged his concern-touch. “Look, Sam, we can talk later, okay?” You looked around and lowered your voice. “General Hux wants to see me.”

He smiled. “Really! That’s great! I told you that you’ve been doing a great job.”

“Not so sure that’s it,” you replied, staring into the floor. “But I’ll tell you later. Promise.”

Sam frowned, but nodded. “Yeah. Okay.” He patted you on the shoulder. “Good luck.”

You nodded and resumed your journey, taking in another deep breath through your nostrils to quell your quaking fingers.

As you came close to the command center, your heartbeat was becoming more erratic. The chances of coming into contact with Kylo Ren was exponentially higher, here. Even working on the shuttle, you were alerted in advance before he was to use it, and you had always made yourself scarce. Here in the command center, you had no choice.

You stepped up to the doors into the center, supervised by two Stormtroopers. A tight grin spread across your face as you waited for them to let you inside. But nothing happened.

“Uh,” you said. “General Hux requested me?”

“And you are?” replied one of the Stormtroopers.

“The second engineer. The one who works on the Command Shuttle.” You weren’t sure if he knew you by name.

“Oh, the girl,” he said.

Your eye twitched. “Yes. The girl.”

They stepped aside as the doors opened, and you entered the command center, your legs feeling like rubber. Even this early, officers were scuttling back and forth, speaking in hushed and pressured tones to each other while they worked at their stations. Everyone looked so crisp and clean, their uniforms free of space dust or plasma grime. Unlike yours.

You saw someone alert Hux to your presence, and you stiffened your back. He turned to meet your gaze, and a massive heat rushed your face and neck. At least he couldn’t read your thoughts--you wouldn’t want him knowing how funny you found his pinched, pink face.

“Engineer,” he said, marching toward you.

“General, sir,” you said, nodding. “My name’s actually--”

“You’re the one who works on the Command Shuttle, yes?” He was glaring you down.

You cleared your throat, biting back your indignation. “Ah, yes, sir. Yes, I do.”

“Come with me,” he said, striding off toward a room branching off the center.

Shrugging, you trailed his heels, not wanting to appear reluctant--though you were. As you walked, your eyes were darting around the room, looking for any evidence of Kylo Ren. You desperately hoped against your better intuition that this meeting had nothing to do with him.

General Hux shut the doors behind you, gesturing for you to have a seat at one of the tables. Eyeing him, you felt like his prey under his intense, severe stare. The second you were seated, your leg began to bounce, trying to release some of your nervous energy.

“There’s an issue with your performance, engineer,” he said, voice cutting the thick air.

Remaining calm was paramount. “Sir?” you said, swallowing.

“It’s interesting you were selected for placement here alongside Samuel Foster. Both of you came highly recommended.”

“Yes, sir,” you replied, “Mr. Foster is exceptionally skilled.”

Hux’s expression was stone. “Yes, he is.” He crossed the room, keeping his eyes locked on yours. “I recognize that your assignment isn’t typical. You’ve been handed a challenge. But--”
“General, sir, I know I’m not as good as Sam--er, Mr. Foster--but I promise that if you just give me time--”

“That is not the issue,” he said, “and I’d advise you to not interrupt me again.” He paused. “I understand that you met with Kylo Ren yesterday.”

You would have gladly chosen to be swallowed by a black hole than continue this conversation. Eyes darting to the floor, you nodded. “Yes, sir. I did.” Had you really pissed off Ren so much that he needed to get you in trouble? Or maybe you were getting fired. The irritation with him--and yourself--grew like a weed.

“You’d be wise to refrain from provoking him any further,” Hux said..

“He read my thoughts,” you said. “Not sure what else I can do apart from slipping into a coma.”

Hux cocked an eyebrow. “Your thoughts? I was told you were on the Command Shuttle at the time.”

You nodded. “I was!”

“Hm,” he said. He was reading your face for any sign of deception. “That is highly unusual.”

“What do you mean?” you asked, wringing your hands together. You weren’t sure if this could get any worse.

“Ren is strong with the Force--but to sense your thoughts from meters and meters away, while you’re surrounded by dozens of other people, and not even knowing you were there…” He was looking past you.

Your blood was humming in your ears, your leg about to bounce itself into the next galaxy. What was Hux talking about? You didn’t choose for Kylo Ren to hear you sniping about him. The anxiety in your chest became too much. “Excuse me, General, but--I mean, I can’t be the only one who has ever thought Ren was massive prick.”

“You’re right. You’re not,” he replied, eyebrows raising. He seemed to be holding back something.

You shrugged your shoulders. “I don’t see why I need to be punished for a common occurrence.”

“The issue is two-fold,” Hux said. “Firstly, Ren picked up your bitterness without knowing you even existed. Secondly, you work on his ship. You aren’t some wandering, nameless Stormtrooper. For all he--or I--know, the next work order you produce could sabotage a mission.” His clipped tone was beginning to hurt your brain. “Either work out your issue with him, or we’ll find you a new assignment.”
“No!” you said, louder than you intended. “Sir, that won’t be necessary. Please.” Getting fired from your first big break was something you could not abide.

Hux leered at you. “Then fix your attitude with Ren. Because if I don’t see you reassigned, then he will.”

You gulped a mixture of pride and nervous spit. “Yes, sir. R-right away.” It was a lie. You had no idea how you were going to “work out your issue” with Kylo Ren. As far as you were concerned, it was his issue, and not yours. But, to be fair--he had the power to make it your issue, now, too.

“You’re dismissed,” he said, his stare unyielding.

“Yes, sir,” you mumbled, standing and rushing from the room.

Your fists were balling at your sides, a red glow spread out across your cheeks as you left the room. You had never felt so cornered and embarrassed in your entire life. And now, to think that you’d need to be watching your back constantly because of Kylo Ren? An image flew through your mind. In it, Sam was getting promoted to Chief Engineer, his smile bright, and on his arm was some girl who was smarter and better than you in every conceivable way.

Now your fists were clenching so hard your short nails were biting your palms. Part of you wanted to hunt down Kylo Ren and give him a piece of your mind. The other part was completely content never seeing him, his scary mask, or the damage from his lightsaber again for the rest of your life.

Unfortunately, that part of you would not get its wish. As you walked out of the doors of the command center, you entered the direct path of Kylo Ren, his swift, powerful steps sending vibrations through the corridor. Your heart sank into your stomach, and you froze.

Kylo Ren seemed to recognize you and curbed his pace. You could feel that thousand-eye stare bearing down on your body again as he approached the door. The Stormtroopers behind you were wordless, motionless, breathless.

“C-Commander Ren,” you managed to choke out.

He was silent, holding your gaze as he made his way to you, even though you weren’t even sure you were looking at his eyes. Every muscle in your body was screaming at you to run.

“What are you doing here?” he asked, sending a shiver up your spine.

You hesitated. You weren’t sure if you wanted to get Hux in trouble--but on second thought, fuck Hux. “General Hux requested to speak with me,” you replied.

“Hux?” he said, head whipping towards the door. You wished you could see if he was furious or confused.

“Yes, sir,” you replied, biting your cheeks. Maybe you could just get this over with. “Commander, I was wondering if I might get to speak with you--”

“No,” he replied, and, without waiting another second, walked through the doors into the command center. As they shut behind him, the two Stormtroopers turned their heads toward you. You were sure your face was red.

“Uh, well, so much for that, I guess,” you said, as if that would erase the past 15 seconds from their minds. “See--uh, see you guys later.” You turned around and bolted down the hall. The idea of seeing the Command Shuttle again had never been so exciting.

Chapter Text

As you sat across from Sam in the mess hall, you let out a sigh.

It had been a week since the last time you had seen Kylo Ren. You used this fact as an excuse as to why you had failed to follow up on General Hux’s command. It was your hope that Kylo Ren had forgotten entirely about your existence and moved on to doing things more important than ratting out the engineer who worked on his ship.

“I just don’t know why you didn’t tell me earlier,” Sam said, frowning.

“A lot of reasons,” you said. “I didn’t want to drag you into it. I didn’t want to talk about it and him overhear somehow.”

“I can’t believe he read your thoughts,” Sam said, as if it hadn’t been slightly traumatizing. “What was it like?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Like getting a really big headache. It sucked.”

“Jeez, fine, forget I said anything.”

“It’s just a little insensitive, dude.”

Sam shrugged. “Sorry. What do you think you’re going to do?”

“About what?” you said, wanting to avoid the question.

“About what General Hux asked you to do.”

“I don’t know,” you said, scowling. “Who cares. What’s the General going to do? Get mad at me because Kylo Ren won’t talk to me? He’s a child. I can see why he pisses people off.”

And yet, as you said it, there was that awful, crushing pressure on your skull as all other noise was drowned out by your ringing ears. Gooseflesh crept down your arms as you gripped your head in the realization of what this meant.

“Get out of here, Sam,” you managed to say, but before Sam had a chance to react, Kylo Ren was rounding the corner into the mess hall, cloak fluttering behind him.

Sam was scrambling against the wall as Kylo Ren glided toward you, fists balled.

“It’s you again,” said Kylo Ren, as if that was all that was needed.

You gulped and nodded. “Uh huh,” was all you could manage to say.

“Come with me,” he said, turning and walking with the expectation you would follow. You didn’t disappoint him.

As you disappeared around the corner, you shot Sam a helpless look. You weren’t sure what this meant. Sam’s face was a mixture of awe and terror.

You trailed Kylo Ren’s heels in silence, listening to the sound of his boots bounce off of the wall, each step growing the lump in your throat. At this point, you were almost certain you were dead. Your hands were squeezing each other to the point of popping.

Kylo Ren took a sharp turn into a room off of one of the corridors, and you followed. It was small, dark, machines everywhere--it seemed like a server room. He held out a hand and the door slammed behind you. Then that invisible pressure was on your shoulders, shoving you into the door, pinning your limbs to your sides..

“How are you doing this?” he asked as he held you still. The server lights were glinting off of the silver inlay on his helmet.

You didn’t know what to say. You had no idea what you were doing.

“How?” he asked again, increasing the pressure on your body. The joints in your wrists popped.

A growl escaped your throat. “What are you even talking about, man?” you asked, shocked at your own audacity.

“You’re in my head,” he replied. “You’re constantly in my head.”

Your cheeks reddened. You were in Kylo Ren’s head? “I--I don’t…”

He came closer, his fury suffocating you. “I’ve had enough of it. You’re going to stop.”

A response wasn’t coming to you. “Can you let me go?” you asked. It was difficult to think with all of the pressure on your limbs.

“No,” he replied, lifting you from the ground--a punishment for even asking.

You grit your teeth. “General Hux wanted me to try and make nice with you, you know. I seriously doubt that’s going to happen now.”

“Really?” he replied. You could detect a hint of curiosity in his voice underneath the synthesizer.

You nodded. “You’re an ass.”

Kylo Ren’s hand moved only a centimeter, and the pressure was on your neck, crushing your windpipe. You struggled against his grip, but no other part of you would move, either. Your mind was racing, heart leaping around your ribcage as he advanced on you. He leaned his cold, masked face close to your ear, and under it, you swore you could hear his breathing.

Goosebumps again. There was was an actual person underneath that helmet, those robes, those gloves. It was a thought you’d never had before.

“Such a naughty little mouth,” he mumbled, voice low and dark.

A fire kindled between your legs, and you strained to get away from him, wishing you could ram your fist into his face. You couldn’t even speak.

The pressure around your throat loosened, and you fell to the floor, ensuring a bruise on your tailbone. Though the nerves in your arms and legs were back on, you were paralyzed beneath him, your chest heaving with every breath. You didn’t like what effect he just had on you.

Kylo Ren stared down at you. “For once, I agree with Hux. Continue with this, and I’m certain I’ll remedy the issue myself.” Without another word, he disappeared through the door and flung it shut it behind him, sending tremors rumbling through your back.

He wasn’t there holding you down anymore--but movement was not coming to you. A hundred questions were whirling through your mind, and the biggest was the one you were asking yourself: why did Kylo Ren turn you on just now? He hadn’t even touched you.

You shook your head, trying to throw it from your mind. But it stuck like slime to your brain--the warmth radiating from his body, the way his words rolled through your ear, the real, human breath that you were sure you heard…

A knock came on the door. “Hey, it’s Sam--”

You were up and opening the door before he could finish. “Hey. Yeah. I’m in here.”

He let out a long sigh. “I thought that’s where I saw you go.” He looked beyond your shoulder and raised an eyebrow. “Did he take you to a server room?”

Your cheeks were burning again, and you crossed your arms over your chest. “Yeah, it was weird.”

Sam’s eyes widened. “What do you mean, weird?”

“Oh!” you said, holding up your hands. “Nothing like that. He, uh, had me look at one of the servers that the Command Shuttle communicates with.” The quickness of your lie surprised even you.

“Huh,” he replied. “Weird guy. Like he needed to drag you from dinner just from just for that.”

You shrugged. “I know, right?”

Sam returned with you to the mess hall, where you both finished eating. He must have sensed your lingering uneasiness, since he walked you back to your quarters. As usual, he gave you a pat on the shoulder before wishing you goodnight, and as you walked into your room, you had the urge to cover your body in cold water.

Deciding to make good on that urge, you stripped your uniform off and turned the shower on, adjusting the temperature to an appropriate lust-dousing number.

As you stepped onto the tiled floor of the standard-issue Starkiller showers, the icy jets assaulted your body, pain shooting through your tired muscles. Despite your strongest will, it was as if Kylo Ren was in your head now. Your mind was turning the moment in the server room over and over. You thrust your face into the spray, and your body tensed like a rubber band.

You weren’t sure how long you held yourself there, but you realized that your fingers and toes had become numb, and your nose was likely frozen solid.

“Okay,” you said to yourself. Sighing, you turned the water off and pulled a soft towel against your wet body. After drying yourself off and wrapping your hair up, you eschewed the idea of putting on clothes and crawled into your bed with only the towel on your head.

The blankets became your cocoon as you shuddered against your standard-issue Starkiller bed, and you wondered what Kylo Ren would feel like against you--he seemed so tall and strong, and--

“Ugh!” you said, burying your face in your hands. “No, no!”

The cold shower hadn’t worked. And you still had no idea how to solve the problem of Kylo Ren.

Chapter Text

“Any questions about your new assignment?”

Despite your efforts to remain as inconspicuous as possible, you somehow found yourself meeting with General Hux--again--this time in his office. You were growing tired of being at all involved with the heads of the First Order.

You sighed. “With all due respect--sir--I’m not sure why I need to go. If the ships on the Finalizer need work, why not send Sam Foster? He’s far more flexible than I am. Sir.”

General Hux’s face remained as stoic as ever, and you briefly wondered if he had smiled even once in his entire life. “Your assignment is no accident. You’ll be getting to the Finalizer by way of the Command Shuttle. Kylo Ren is coming with you.”

“What?” you asked, the hands of terror and excitement fighting over your heart. “Excuse me--why’s that, sir?”

“He has a job to complete there, as well. Additionally, I’m growing tired of pretending to care about his outbursts. You will work together during this assignment and that will be the end of it.” Hux’s eyes were drilling holes into your skull.

You swallowed the bile in your throat. “Sir, please, if I may offer an alt--”

“Do you wish to be permanently reassigned to the TIE fighters on the Finalizer?” His tone was harsh, snappy.

“No--no, I don’t. I will take this assignment. I’ll report to the Shuttle at fourteen-hundred hours. Thank you, General.”

Hux nodded and waved you away with a flourish of his hand. “Dismissed.”

After a slight bow, you escaped from his office area and back into the corridor, where you slumped into the wall. Ever since he had pinned you down a little over two weeks ago, Kylo Ren had been dominating your thoughts. A part of you wanted to find any excuse not to go on the Command Shuttle--maybe a self-amputation. But the other part--the part that you hated--was ready to board the shuttle the second Hux had mentioned it.

You wondered if Kylo Ren knew how much you had been thinking about him. He seemed to figure out everything else. For you, it was bizarre to dedicate so much brain-time to a man in a mask, a man whose skin you had never seen, whose voice you had never heard, a man who--for all you knew--wasn’t even a human to begin with.

Shaking your head, you drew yourself from the wall and began your journey back to the docking bay. Since you weren’t sure how long your stay aboard the Finalizer would be, Sam would probably have to cover the additional ships under your assignment.

It wasn’t too long of a walk, thankfully, as you were anxious to speak with him. The full view of the bay came into your line of sight, and your chest swelled. Though you saw it every morning, you were genuinely amazed every time you entered the docking bay on Starkiller. Your education, regardless of how thorough, couldn’t have prepared you for the size or the breadth of something so massive.

You found Sam at a diagnostic terminal down the ways from your area. As you made your way to him, your eyes followed his every movement. Every decision, every diagnosis, every coordination he prepared seemed so effortless. A potent mixture of envy and admiration washed over you. You weren’t sure sometimes if you wanted to be with him or be him.

“Sam,” you said, grabbing his arm. He leapt in surprise, and you both laughed.

“Hey,” he replied. His eyes seemed tired.

“Hey, man,” you said. “So, I got some news for you.”

Sam smiled, leaning against the terminal. “Oh yeah?”

You shrugged. “I’m gonna be heading to the Finalizer to do some work on a few superior officer vessels.”

His face lit up. “Really? That’s amazing!”

“I don’t know about that,” you said, the image of Kylo Ren flashing through your mind. “It seems like you’ve been really busy lately. I feel bad leaving you with all of this work.”

“C’mon, don’t worry about me!” he said, not losing an ounce of his positivity. “What an honor to be selected to work on the ships up there! I told you that you were great at your job.”

You rolled your eyes. “Whatever. You’re so much better than I am.”

His mouth became a thin line, and he crossed his arms. “Seriously? This again?”

“Oh please,” you said, “you always get all of the accolades, the praise, the recommendations. You and I both know you’re damn good at this. If it weren’t for Guerrin’s stubbornness, I’m almost positive you’d be Chief Engineer by now.”

Sam blushed, seeming torn between feeling flattered and embarrassed by your praise. He shrugged. “Still--you’re the only one who made it here with me.”

You smiled, feeling a flush rush over your own face. “Yeah.” You pulled him into a hug, and the warmth on your cheeks grew as you felt his arms wrap around you. “Thanks, Sam.”

He pulled away and rubbed the back of his head. “So, when do you leave?”

“Umm,” you said, and peeked over his shoulder at the terminal to check the time. “In, like, two hours.”

“Oh, damn,” he said. “You need to pack or something?”

You shook your head. “No. Hux told me that they’d provide everything for me up there. Which is fine. I don’t feel like packing, anyway.”

“I hear you on that one,” he replied, searching your face. “How are you getting there?”

Your heart thumped. “Oh yeah, that’s the other thing.” You pointed back at the Command Shuttle. “We’re taking that. And by we, I mean Commander Ren and me. We’re going together.”

A gamut of emotions ran through his face. He patted you on the shoulder. “Well…” His eyes focused on something far in the distance. “Good luck with that. Just be careful, okay?” he said.

“I will,” you replied. You said your goodbyes with him, then returned to the shuttle to inspect the systems. Despite your mixed feelings, you didn’t have an overwhelming desire to burn up in a ball of flames.

You ran through the checks and cross-checks, and as you wrapped up, you looked at the clock and saw that it was 1400. Kylo Ren would arrive any second. Your palms were sweating as you debated on what to do. Should you go on the ship and wait for him? Or stand outside and walk him through what you had done so he felt confident in your abilities? You felt like you were prepping for a first date.

In the end, you decided to stand by the terminal and await his arrival. It was only moments after your internal debate that you heard the familiar sound of his quick, confident stride. You looked and saw him, a whirlwind of black, making his way toward the Command Shuttle. Swallowing, you stood up straight and met his gaze.

“Commander Ren,” you said. “Do you need me to run through everything with you?”

“No,” he replied. “We’re leaving.” He had barely stopped to acknowledge you.

You chewed your tongue and censored your thoughts. “Okay then,” you muttered through your teeth.

Once on board the Command Shuttle, you made your best effort to not be in the same space as Kylo Ren, deciding to sit the area behind the cockpit. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw him as he fiddled with the control panels, testing your work. You censored yet another bitter thought that dared to form.

“Are we going to wait for the pilot, sir?” you asked.

He turned to face you. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’m the pilot.”

You gaped. “Really?”

“It’s a short flight, most of it will be auto-pilot.” His tone was cold. “I’m wondering how an apparent world-class engineer can be this ignorant,” he replied, before turning back to the controls.

His comment felt like a stab wound, but fury rose to cover your pain. You bit it back as you saw him sit down and prepare to take off. You didn’t want to have a pissed-off pilot.

The shuttle began to whir and groan as the ramp drew up and the ion engines warmed up. Nervous energy gripped your chest. Despite all of your work on the shuttle, this would be your first time flying on board. You wanted to get up and watch from the cockpit--see the space whizzing by you--but Kylo Ren was enough of a deterrent.

The wings of the ship squealed as they shifted into place and then, without any warning, the ship lurched forward, flinging you onto the floor and into the wall, your knees scraping against the metal plates embedded into the ship. A groan escaped you as you rolled onto your side, curling in a ball of pain.

Kylo Ren was silent, and you heard the clicking and beeping of the control panels behind you. You shook off the pain shoved yourself into sitting up. As you rubbed your knees, vibrations ran through you--his boots hitting the floor. Your spine iced over and you attempted to clamber back to your seat, but your knees buckled as you tried to stand.

Somehow you had ended up in this position again--against the wall, on the floor, with him looming over you. You cleared your throat. “Um, excuse me, Commander…”

“You don’t know appropriate flight protocol?” he said.

Your throat felt like the desert. “I just… forgot, I guess.” You had no excuse. You had been so distracted by the Command Shuttle’s power.

“Your incompetence is astounding.” His words sunk into you like teeth into a peach.

“Excuse me?” you said, hoping to bide some time to prevent your anger from bubbling.

“You fail to understand my capabilities as a pilot, and then you fail to even practice the most basic safety protocols,” he said. “And for some reason, I haven’t heard a peep from you since I boarded.”

You shielded your face with your hands, groaning. A word didn’t dare slip past your lips. He was so close. A distant portion of you was aching for him to be closer.

“What are you hiding?” he asked. His voice seemed louder than it had just a second ago.

“I’m not hiding anything,” you replied. “Sir.”

An invisible hand lifted you up, pushed you into the wall, and forced you to stare into the empty, black hole that hid his eyes. “How is it that you manage to do this to me?”

Okay. You were lost again. “Sir?”

Answering the thoughts you’d been avoiding, he leaned close to you again--not touching you--but the cold metal of his mask skimmed your cheek. An electric thrill raced through you, your lungs shuddering in your chest. You weren’t sure if it was fear or desire.

“I know you’ve been thinking about me,” he said, the synthesizer causing his voice to ripple through your ears, down to your toes. “And I know you’ve been trying to hide it.” He placed a gloved hand on the wall next to your face, trapping you underneath him. “What I can’t figure out is why I can’t hear you now. How are you doing this?”

You wanted to twist away from him, to push him away, to silence the warmth pooling between your legs--anything to get this to stop. “I really don’t know, okay?” you said, your jaw locked. “I just didn’t want you to hear me calling you a bunch of names or whatever!”

His leather fingers snatched your hair, pulling your head back by your scalp. He leaned closer, resting the icy metal of his masked face into the crook your neck. “What names?” Your body quaked as he spoke.

You groaned, unwilling to say. You couldn’t believe this was happening.

He tugged at your scalp. “What names?” he demanded.

The pain of his grip sent you over the edge. “Would you get off of me, you dickhead?” You huffed. “Gods, you’re an asshole!”

Under the mask, you heard a near-silent chuckle. “There’s that mouth of yours,” he said. His other hand came behind the small of your back, and he pressed into you. The heat of his body made your breath short. He shifted your thighs with his knee and drove his hips into yours, and even through all of the robes, you felt the hardness between his legs rub against you. “Someone needs to teach that mouth a lesson.”

You were melting in his arms, melting against your will--but feeling his desire ignited a raging fire within you. “I hate you!” you said, with the knowledge that you’d be bucking your hips against his if you could.

The ship rocked, a loud, urgent beeping coming from the control panel. Kylo Ren paused for a moment, and stepped back. “Looks like we’ve arrived.” He returned to the cockpit, and released his hold on you.

Movement returned to your body as you crumpled on the floor. Your mind was reeling and your skin was burning for his touch.

You wondered if Sam had problems like this.

Chapter Text

Working on the ships of the Finalizer’s superior officers was more relaxing than you anticipated. With the knowledge that Kylo Ren was entrenched in his own business, unable to antagonize or distract, you found yourself getting lost in the novelty of your work.

Surprisingly--perhaps because they knew you were from Starkiller--the crew onboard the Finalizer was flexible, open-minded, and respectful of your decisions. On the Finalizer, your youth and gender didn’t undermine your expertise. Even the Chief Engineer came to you for advice--the Chief Engineer onboard the Finalizer was coming to you for advice--and you felt confident in your guidance.

After two weeks of constant work, you were beginning to feel pride in your skill again. Maybe Sam was right--you weren’t so bad at this after all. You had forgotten what you were able to accomplish when you weren’t trailing behind the rage of Kylo Ren, whom you hadn’t seen since you both had arrived. You knew that he had left the Finalizer in the Command Shuttle about a week ago--he hadn’t returned yet.

Today, you were working on the TIE fighter of a captain following a complaint about the accuracy of the guns. You’d “fixed” his guns about three times since boarding, so you imagined that the captain was just an awful shot.

“Not sure what to tell you,” you said, closing up the access to the calibration. “Your guns are working just fine.”

“Absolutely not,” the captain replied, stepping toward you. “I haven’t had this issue with any previous ship. It’s something you’re doing wrong!”

You narrowed your eyes, your neck getting hot. “You want me to teach you how to inspect a calibration? I promise that if I do, you’ll be embarrassed.”

“No, maybe I’ll just have to report your incompetence to your superior officer,” said the captain, smirking.

“Buzz off, Verza,” came a voice from behind you. You turned around and saw the Chief Engineer--Jakar Saul--making his way toward the two of you. Jakar was a short, stubby man with a massive wiry beard. “You’re a decent captain, but a shitty pilot. She knows what she’s talking about.”

Verza scowled, color growing in his cheeks. His weight was shifting between his feet as he looked between the two of you. “Fine, Saul. Good day to both of you.” He glared at you before he marched off, covering his reddening face with his helmet.

You sighed, shoulders sagging. “Thanks, Jakar.”

He shrugged. “Verza’s always whining about something. Just too bad that I hadn’t gotten him to shut up before you had to waste your effort on his guns for the hundredth time.”

“No kidding,” you said, smiling.

“I’m not just here to save you from asshole captains, unfortunately,” he said. The frown on his face sped up your heartbeat.

“Oh, no,” you replied, head rolling back. “What is it?”

Jakar’s face tightened. “Do you want the bad news or the bad news?”

You groaned, running your hands through your hair. “Jeez, you’re giving me so many choices.”

“The bad news is that the Command Shuttle is back,” he said, “and the other bad news is that it has some extensive internal damage.”

“Dammit!” you said, banging your head against the TIE fighter. “Why! Gods, I hate him!”

Jakar sighed. “You aren’t the only one.”

“I know,” you said. Your eyes were squeezed shut, hoping to delay your reality. “I just… I was having so much fun doing real work, you know?”

“Let me close this order out,” Jakar said, moving you away from the ship. “You get on to the Command Shuttle before we both get in trouble.”

You nodded, swallowing. “Okay. Thanks, Jakar.”

You grabbed your data pad from the terminal and made your way toward the front of the bay. The thrumming of your pulse in your ears was louder with every step, the bile in your stomach threatening to explode out of your esophagus. The thought of seeing Kylo Ren again stiffened the hair on your arms and made your heart flutter. At some point, the conflict between those two emotions was going to rip you apart.

It seemed as if every set of eyes within a 50 foot radius lingered on you as you stepped up to the Command Shuttle, wild sparks bouncing from inside of the shuttle and down the ramp. You turned, meeting the gaze of every concerned onlooker, and waved your hand, urging them to get on with their business. You didn’t need the scrutiny of everyone else on board.

“Come on, guys,” you said, trudging up the ramp. “Go back to your jobs, or whatever.”

You protected your face as you looked around the interior of the shuttle. Dying sparks were embedded into the lingering orange heat of damaged panels. Entire portions of the cockpit had been torn from their bearings, a faint heartbeat of electricity pumping from the exposed wires. The pilot seats were cleaved in half, the smell of singed fabric assaulting your nostrils. Perhaps most offensively of all, the repair you had completed only a few weeks prior was completely decimated.

The muscles in your body were tensing as you tried to breathe, but it was too late. A flash of heat ripped through you, and you hurled your data pad, a primal snarl escaping your throat. The data pad clanged against the walls and crashed onto the floor, the echoes of its journey resonating louder than you would have liked.

And then, because your day needed to be worse, the invasive pressure of Kylo Ren was in and out of your brain, followed by the sound of footfalls on the ramp, but you didn’t care. Rage was owning your body, and you pivoted on your heel to meet him as he entered the shuttle.

This time you had the first word. “What is wrong with you?” you said, conscious that your voice was probably heard outside of the shuttle. “I can’t have a single victory without you ruining it, can I? Gods!”

Kylo Ren was silent, but you could feel the fury boiling underneath his mask.

“For once, I’m here, doing something meaningful, and the second I feel like I have some control, you have to screw it up with your little childish tantrums!” The words were flying out of your mouth. Spit was, too. “Do you have any idea how hard I work, how much I put up with? From you? You’re an inconsiderate prick!”

His fists were flexing in his gloves.

“Go ahead and kill me,” you said, not really sure if you actually wanted to tempt him to do just that. “Good luck finding someone with my skill to clean up after you.”

His arm shot out to the side, and the ramp was rising, pulling in. He was closing you inside of the shuttle with him. Your breath was pouring from you, and and with a gesture of his hand, the opening locked. Darkness enveloped the both of you, the light from the cockpit saving your eyesight. Inside the body of the ship, his figure was illuminated by the fading red glow of melted metal.

The stillness in the ship was so crushing that you were afraid of the soft rise and fall of your chest. Leftover anger diffused through your body, leaving the ends of your skin tingling, raw.

“Go fuck you--” you began, but then you were choking, being drawn forward, your body dangling in the air. The warm grip of leather encased your neck, the long fingers of Kylo Ren twitching at your throat. Your hands reached up to pry him off of you to no avail, your legs kicking into nothingness.

“I wonder how many times I have to tell you to watch your mouth around me,” he said, tensing his hold on you. He pulled you closer, your face just inches from his. “I suppose that as your only superior on board, it falls on me to discipline you.”

That irritating flutter in your heart was back, inspiring a tingle low in your belly. You wanted to speak, but could only fight for air. He must have sensed this, as he spun and pressed you into the clean wall behind him, loosening the hand on your throat. Now he was holding you up with his body, his chest pushing into yours, his other hand sliding down the outside of your thigh.

You shuddered, squirming underneath him, but he responded by shoving his pelvis into yours, the hot hardness of his length jamming against you. The friction of him against your groin released an unwanted moan from your lips.

“This is what you do to me,” he said, voice so low it was dipping in and out of the synthesizer.

“You’re an asshole,” you croaked, and Kylo Ren responded by grinding his hips into yours again. An ache grew in between your legs as, even through all of the layers, his length grazed your slit. You didn’t understand how it was possible to desire a man this much when you had never even seen his face.

“I believe it’s time for that lesson I mentioned,” he said, and you fell to the ground, back still stuck to the wall.

Your heart was leaping around your ribcage, knowing you could run, knowing it would take you nowhere. And even with that knowledge, you were realizing that you didn’t want to run. You wanted him.

Kylo Ren worked a gloved finger past your lips, pressing on your tongue. You moaned again, the sudden contact sending electricity throughout your entire body. The dry taste of leather filled your mouth, and you sucked, wanting more. He growled appreciatively, his other hand running through your hair. You swirled your tongue around his finger and sucked again, wanting to impress him.

“Eager little thing,” he mumbled, and slipped a second finger into your mouth.

You had never been talked to like that before, but instead of feeling anger, you were spurred on, humming as you rolled your tongue around the slick leather. You looked up, meeting the blank gaze of his mask, and wished you could see his face underneath it.

His fingers wrapped around the tendrils of your hair and dug into your scalp, working your head back and forth over his fingers. You moaned, sucking harder on them, running your tongue along the crevice in between them. As you allowed your eyes to close, he pulled away from your mouth, leaving you feeling empty, wanting.

“Naughty girl,” he said, and you saw his hands moving at the waist of his pants. Though it was difficult to discern his movements in the dim light, there was no mistaking their intention. After a moment, he pulled out his erect cock. It looked just as big as it had felt when it rubbed against you.

“Oh,” you said, not sure if you could move so quickly from two fingers to this. Uncertain, you moved toward it, mouth open, when his hand grabbed your hair again, halting you. Your stomach dropped.

“You want this?” he asked, other hand stroking his cock. His labored breath was evident even through the mask.

You nodded, mouth still agape. You had no idea what had come over you, but you had never wanted anything more in your life. Kylo Ren had you hypnotized.

“Beg for it,” he ordered, tightening his grip on your hair.

Blood rushed your face. “Um,” you said, not sure how to respond. “Please?”

“Don’t be so modest,” he said. He jerked your head back and pain shot through you. “Beg for it, whore.”

“Ah!” you said. “Please, sir! Give it to me!”

A growl left his throat. “Good girl,” he said. He guided your open mouth onto his thick, pulsing shaft, groaning as your warm wetness engulfed him.

You gagged on his size, but he refused to let go of you, pushing his cock deeper into the back of your throat. Saliva filled your mouth as you focused, moaning against him as he thrust in and out. He was testing your limits, fucking you deeper with each snap of his hips, watching you as drool dribbled from between your lips.

“Such a good girl,” he said. “This is a much better use of that filthy mouth of yours.”

Humming in agreement, your hands moved to stroke his shaft, his length slick from your gagging. Pre-cum was leaking from his tip, the salty taste mixing in with your own spit. You pulled in your lips around his cock, sucking harder, your tongue pressing up against the head and circling around it.

“Yes,” he moaned. His hips bucked violently, and he tugged your head back further, shoving his dick deep into your throat. “Take it,” he said, pushing his entire length into you, ignoring the strangled groans rumbling against him.

He pulled out, then slipped back in, then in and out again, hissing in pleasure as he fucked your throat. Your couldn’t deny your own arousal any longer, and you fought with your uniform as you dipped your hand under your panties, running your fingers over your clit. But as a moan built inside you, your hand left your clit and flung itself behind you. Kylo Ren chuckled.

“Did I say you could do that?” he asked, not missing a thrust.

You groaned against him in frustration, and he moved forward, pushing your head into the wall as he plunged deep into your mouth. Sweat was beading on your forehead as the air between the both of you grew hotter. His body, towering over you, was stifling. Your lips and tongue were going numb, your jaw sore with the vigorous fucking.

“Shit,” he said, barely audible, and pulled out, stroking his shaft as he positioned his cock in front of your face. “Open.”

You did, and the hot jets of his cum hit your mouth, nose and eyes. He worked hard to suppress a moan, jerking himself through his orgasm. Both of your chests were heaving--you had almost forgotten what breathing felt like. He huffed and dragged his fingers across your face, gathering his seed. Knowing what he wanted, you took his leather fingers in your mouth, swallowing the rest of his load. He was salty, tangy--you wanted more.

“Good girl,” he said again, piecing himself back together. He looked no worse for wear--the benefit of wearing a mask. You wondered how you must have looked--sweaty, stained, red.

Words escaped you. You were looking up at him with huge, confused eyes--how did this happen? Why did this happen? And why did you love it?

“Look at that,” he said. “You learn quickly.” He swished his hand and the ramp opened, slamming to the ground with a terrifying smash. “Get to work.” Without another word, he left the ship, your heart aching as the echoes of his boots faded into the air.

Your chin was trembling as you wiped your face with your sleeve, fabric harsh against your swollen lips. Around you, the reality of the damage came in focus. Despite the throbbing of your body, the words spinning around your mind, there was still work to be done. Everything was different now. But nothing had changed.

Chapter Text

“Fuuuck!”

Your chest was swelling like waves in a storm as you came down from your climax. That was the fourth time you had masturbated over Kylo Ren in the past 24 hours. At this point, your clit was chafing from the constant stimulation, your nerves numb from being forced to explode every time you had a free moment.

But you were unable to control it--his words, his cock, his hands--everything about the encounter you had two days ago was possessing you, lighting a fire inside of you every time you thought about it. The worst part was that you were so baffled about the entire thing--you loathed Kylo Ren. But you were obsessing nonetheless.

You rose from your bed--if it could be called that, more like a cot, really--and slipped your uniform over your tender skin. Your legs were still quivering from your most recent peak, but you stood and pulled on your shoes despite it. Nothing like a pre-work orgasm to start off the day.

As you walked to your assignment, the thought spiral that had been plaguing you reared its bizarre, confusing head. Did Kylo Ren do this with everyone who pissed him off? Why would he--a Force user, the Commander of the First Order--bother having a liaison with you to begin with? Maybe it wasn’t people who pissed him off-- maybe just the engineers who worked on his shuttle. Sam had gotten lucky again.

And that was the other thing--forget what you were doing to Kylo Ren. What was Kylo Ren doing to you? How did you go from a cute little crush on blonde, boyish Sam to sucking down the semen of a masked man? Maybe he was using the Force. Was that how the Force worked?

You plopped down at the diagnostics terminal next to the shuttle and got to work. No, that wasn’t it. You hated how difficult he made your life-- but he exuded power, sexuality, dominance. And, to be honest, there was something irresistibly hot about being desired by Kylo Flipping Ren.

A twinge in your lower abdomen. But you didn’t have time for that today.

You scanned the progress for the repairs of the shuttle. It seemed as if everything would be repaired within a couple of days. That was speedier than you were expecting, considering the level of damage to the internal wiring.

“I’d say you do a damn good job,” came familiar voice. Your heart jumped and you spun around. It was just Jakar.

“Ugh. Thanks,” you said, rubbing your forehead. “This shuttle is such a headache for me.”

Jakar shrugged. “You say that, but I’ve never seen someone diagnose and coordinate such an extensive repair so quickly.”

You blushed. “Don’t get too impressed. I’ve had to inspect and repair that thing, like, eighty-thousand times. I’m just super-familiar with it.”

“You should give yourself some credit, girl,” Jakar said, nudging you with his elbow.

“All right, all right,” you said, crossing your arms. “Your boss gave me a work order for his ship, you know.”

“The Lieutenant?” Jakar said. “Must be the engines. I’ve been trying to figure that thing out for a week. If you can fix it, I’ll really be impressed.”

“No guarantees,” you said. You reviewed the progress for the Command Shuttle one final time. Nothing else for you to do with this mess. “I’m about to head over there, though.”

“I’ll walk with ya,” Jakar said, grinning. You wished Jakar was your boss on Starkiller, instead of the cranky, uptight Guerrin.

You smiled back. “Thanks.” You hopped off of your chair and kept pace with him. Despite his short legs, he was a quick mover.

Jakar eyed you, brow furrowed. “I heard Ren chewed you out after he heard you throw your data pad.”

Your stomach did the type of gymnastics that were only capable by an alien species. “Huh. Uh, yeah. I guess you could say that.” A thousand thoughts were whirling in your brain. What had people heard? What did they know? What did they see?

“People thought you were dead for sure when he locked the ramp,” Jakar said. “Nobody knew what was happening.”

“Oh!” you said, a sigh of relief rushing out. “I think he was just pissed and wanted to scare everyone. He just yelled at me and stuff.”

“And stuff?” Jakar asked, eyebrows touching his forehead. “Discipline by Kylo Ren doesn’t usually involve and stuff.”

You grumbled, shooting him a glare. “Forgive me if I don’t want to share the intimate details of getting yelled at like a child.” You hoped he mistook your reddening cheeks for embarrassment.

He held up his hands. “Hey, okay. Fair enough, fair enough,” he said. “Just worried about you, is all.”

“Don’t worry about me,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I’m a big girl, okay? Can tie my own shoes and everything.”

Jakar laughed--a hearty, deep laugh that made you smile, too. “All right then.” He stopped, and you realized that you had arrived at the ship. “Here it is. I’ll see ya later.”

“See you, Jakar,” you said, turning to look at your charge.

It was a TIE fighter, but there had been a few custom additions to it. An indulgent choice--TIE fighters weren’t known for their durability. Most pilots ended up with a replacement within a year. You would bet anything that whoever installed them had fiddled around and screwed up something in the engines.

Sucking in a breath, you walked under the ship, planning your attack. You’d have to start at the engines and work your way out. If the engines weren’t malfunctioning, then something connected to it was the culprit. You opened the panel to the heat sink and removed the limiter. This was necessary for you to test the engines, but the ship couldn’t be run without it. Well, it could--but it would almost certainly catch fire and endanger the life of the pilot.

As you looked over the heat sink, your mind wandered, and the ache in your belly resurfaced. A flash of memory--Kylo Ren’s hard dick throbbing in your mouth. You groaned to yourself. Now you definitely didn’t have time to crank one out.

You had been so entrenched in your fantasy, you hadn’t even noticed the thumping of boots behind you. The hair on your arms stood on end as you realized it far too late. It was him.

“Your thoughts are incredibly loud,” he said. Just his voice was enough to jellify your knees. But you steeled yourself and faced him.

“I’m sorry, Commander, but I’m in the middle of an assignment.” you said, gesturing to the ship. You figured you should at least try to have a modicum of respect. “It would be best for us to talk later.”

“That’s nice,” he replied. “You need to come with me.”

“You need to do something other than piss me off while I’m at work,” you replied. Whoops. So much for that respect thing.

“You’re so right,” he replied. “So you either choose to come with me, or I’ll remove that choice.”

You muttered nonsense under your breath and slammed shut the panel to the heat sink. “Fine.”

He strode off, silent--as usual. You followed him, running through all of the reasons being sexual with him was an awful idea: he was cruel, he was your superior, he could get you killed--or worse--fired. All of them seemed great on paper. But the sight of his broad shoulders and strong arms ripped up that paper and then set it on fire.

You followed him through a set of doors--beyond them, it looked like a decommissioned communications room, with blank screens filling the walls. Down for repairs, you guessed. He stood at one of the screens, staring back at you, fists at his sides.

“You haven’t explained to me why I can hear you,” he said. His tone was tight.

You sighed. “I still don’t have a clue what you’re talking about,” you said. “Just stop reading my thoughts.”

“I don’t,” he replied, sounding impatient.

“You do so!” you replied. “It’s like your fingers are picking my brain apart.”

“No,” he said, “I’m finding where you are. Because if I’m anywhere near you, you’re there. In and out. Constantly. Usually when you’re angry. Or, as I’ve discovered over the past two days--aroused.”

A massive wave of heat stormed your body as you crossed your arms. The floor had become far more interesting to look at than Kylo Ren.

He took a step toward you. “You’re nothing but an engineer.” Another step. “How are you doing this?” Yet another step. “And why are you able to block me from your thoughts?”

“Why don’t you just block me from yours, if it’s such a big deal?” you said. “Aren’t you like, a Jedi killer or something?”

Kylo Ren pounded his fist against the screen next to him, shattering the display. Now it would definitely need a repair. “Tell me!” He was so loud that his voice crackled under the modulator.

“Dude, I don’t know!” you cried, heart racing. “Just ignore me! Gods!”

“If I could, I would,” he replied. “As of now, you infuriate me.”

You wanted to jump out of your skin. “Well, I don’t know what to tell you, man. Go somewhere else if it bothers you that much.”

At this, Kylo Ren was crossing the room, closing the space between you in what seemed like two strides. Your blood pressure rocketed into space, but your feet failed to move. He took your chin in his hand and turned your head toward him, fingers squeezing your jaw.

“Oh, but I don’t want to,” he said. “You infuriate me, but I am absolutely fascinated.” You couldn’t see his eyes, but you could feel them roaming your body. “Even when you’re not in my head, I’m thinking about you.”

“Uh, uh--what?” you said, trying to writhe away from him. You didn’t want to do this again. He wouldn’t let you go.

“Every time I’ve seen you since our first meeting on the shuttle, the desire has gotten worse,” he said.

Your curiosity wouldn’t let it die. Against your better judgement, you found words spilling from your mouth. “What desire?”

“Your attitude. It needs... adjusting.” His voice was tearing through you, straight to your inner-thighs.

“Adjusting?” you said. A laugh escaped your chest, despite yourself. “Just demote me or something, I don’t know.”

He tugged you closer. “Because you drive me wild. Hearing your thoughts about me, it isn’t enough to just discipline you…” he trailed off and paused. “I have to destroy you.”

You could almost feel the floodgates between your legs open as your breath hitched. Your mind started spinning in circles. How was it possible to hate someone so much--but want them so badly? Why couldn’t you pull yourself together and shut your thoughts off now? More important than anything else--what in the stars did this man look like?

“Don’t try to hide it,” he said, his hand falling from your face onto your breast. You shivered. “I can hear you screaming for me.”

“Fuck you!” you said, prying yourself away. But Kylo Ren was quicker, his other hand behind your back, catching you and pulling you against him. "Ugh!”

“But that’s what you want, isn’t it?” he said, squeezing your breast, his thumb catching your stiffening nipple, even over clothing. Sparks flew over your skin.

“I want to see your face,” you spat, voice already ragged. “If we’re going to do this…”

Kylo Ren laughed, the mask muffling the mirth you knew was there. “What exactly are we doing?”

You whined, trying to squirm away again. “Bastard,” you said. “You know exactly what we’re doing.”

His hand fell further, grazing your belly, fingers brushing your sex. “Not sure I do.”

A moan surfaced and you caught it in your throat. Your legs were buckling under you as your cunt clenched in response to his touch. “Please,” you said. You didn’t want to beg again.

“So desperate,” he said, his fingers skimming back and forth across the warmth between your legs. His other hand fell from behind your back down to your backside, gripping your ass. “How desperate are you?”

You wanted to scream. As another moan fought its way out of your mouth, a screeching alarm slashed your eardrums. The lights in the room dimmed and a white light blinked across your vision over and over. Kylo Ren froze.

“A fire,” you said, pushing him away. “There’s a fire!”

A calm, robotic voice rose over the alarm, echoing throughout the entire ship. “Fire on docking bay three, sector D. Immediate attention required. Fire on docking bay three, sector D. Immediate attention required.”

Your heart dropped. That was where the Lieutenant’s ship was. You wrenched yourself from Kylo Ren’s gaze and bust through the doors and down the hall, feet skidding on the shiny black tile. To your surprise, he didn’t stop you. You were racing to the scene as fast as your legs would move, the alarm blaring a crater into your brain.

As you came closer, scores of workers were marching into the hall, hoping to escape the fire. A massive, black cloud billowed into your line of sight, and your chest grew tighter. You needed to turn back, but an anxiety was erupting within you that you couldn’t ignore.

You pushed forward, turning the corner. As the scene came into focus, your legs collapsed underneath you, your hands hitting the floor. The Lieutenant’s ship was on fire. He had tried to start it, and it caught on fire. You flashed back to when Kylo Ren had pulled you away. You shut the door to the heat sink. You hadn’t replaced the limiter, though.

You forgot to replace the limiter. This was your fault. A ship was encompassed in fire, and you were to blame. This was the end of your time on the Finalizer. You were sure of it. Tears welled in your eyes as you buried your face into your hands.

Chapter Text

You were sent back from the Finalizer on a two-week suspension as your higher-ups decided what to do with you. The resulting investigation of the fire revealed the fault lie with you--and only with you. You had spent the first week in your quarters, sobbing, mostly.

Now you had the strength to put on a loose dress and sit in the mess hall--hours after first shift had clocked out, of course--but despite your latent hunger, the food you had picked from the line rested in front of you, uneaten.

The texture and taste were no help, but you thought you’d be excited to eat something other than the dehydrated rations you kept in your desk. Instead, you dragged your utensil across the plate, creating a mindless design.

Thoughts of the incident shot through your mind. Partially, you blamed yourself. But another portion of you--perhaps to protect your pride--had decided that Kylo Ren bore some responsibility, too. Had he not ordered you away, distracted you when you should have been at work…

A swirl of anguish rose in your chest. Since Kylo Ren had entered your life, you’d been miserable, starting from the first repair on the Command Shuttle until now. At least leaving the Finalizer had one good outcome--you didn’t have to see or hear from him.

Droplets were threatening to fall into your food. You abandoned your utensil and gripped your face. A strangled cry left you as your body convulsed, your chest heaving. Tears spilled over your hot cheeks, and you squeezed your eyes shut, hoping to stop them, failing anyway. Your career was finished.

The sound of footsteps caused you to suck in a breath and wipe your face. Red heat still lingered on your face, and you could almost see the stains left on your cheeks. You stared into your food, hoping to disappear to whoever was passing by. But they stopped in the entryway of the mess hall.

You glanced up. All in one second, the grief crushing your lungs transformed in a storm of wrath, your teeth grinding together and a horrible screech leaving you as you flung your full plate at your target. Your eyes followed it as it careened toward the entrance, bits of food flying from it and making their own path. You thought time had been moving so slowly, it had stopped. Then a breath hit your lungs, and you realized that, no, time hadn’t stopped.

The plate had.

Kylo Ren stood, hand extended, suspending the offending plate--and food--in space. With a flick of his wrist, the entire meal smashed against the far wall, plate shards soaring into the air and across the room. Fear stopped your heart, but foolish anger resuscitated it.

“That’s one way to greet your Commander,” he said, taking a step toward you.

“Get the fuck away from me,” you said. Your muscles were burning. “Don’t you have other lives to ruin?"

He came closer, steps slow, methodical. “I might, but I’m preoccupied with yours, as it is.”

You stood, wanting to dart past him, knowing it was pointless. You started to step backwards, instead, wanting to keep distance between you as long as possible. “Fuck off, dude. Seriously.”

Kylo Ren was silent for a brief moment as he continued his approach. “I heard you. You’re angry with me.”

“No shit!” you snapped, rolling your eyes. Your butt hit the empty serving line. Nowhere else to go now.

“I can’t imagine why,” he said. That invisible stare behind his mask was needling you again.

“Are you serious?” you said. “You’re the reason I’m suspended!”

He was within feet of you. Your heart skipped a beat and out of pure anxiety, you hoisted yourself onto the serving line. The cold metal stung your bare thighs and grew goosebumps down your legs. Confused, you looked down, remembered you had worn a dress, and instantly regretted your decision.

Even as you sat on the raised surface of the serving line, his height smothered you. “You’re blaming me for your negligence?” he said, placing a hand on either side of your hips. The heat of his body, so close, caused more goosebumps than the serving line had.

You leaned away, tensing your jaw. “Hell yes I am,” you said. “I’ve never made a mistake like that. Ever.”

“There’s a first time for everything,” he said. One of his hands inched closer, running down your thigh and stopping at your knee.

A shiver raced through you and you bit your lip, suppressing any noise. “Fuck you,” you said. “I’m fucking good at my job.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” He mimicked the previous movement with his other hand, until both knees were covered with warm leather. An ache rumbled between your legs, against your will. “We left something unresolved, though. Didn’t we?”

“I hate you,” you said, wanting to burn holes through his mask with your eyes.

His thumbs dug into your skin, and he peeled your legs apart, inserting himself between them. Leather hands caressed the exposed flesh of your inner thighs, and your body twitched with anticipation. “We’ll see how long that lasts.”

Every muscle in you was rigid--how did he do this? “Uh, someone might come in, or something,” you said, the thought of being caught like this with Kylo Ren making a hole open up in your stomach.

“They won’t,” he said, his hands inching closer to the warmth between your legs. “Just be quiet.”

You whined, not wanting your anger to be neutered so efficiently. “If you hadn’t dragged me away from my assignment, no one would have gotten on the ship to pilot it,” you said.

“If you had done your job properly, none of that would have mattered.” A leather finger traced the line of your panties, ghosting over the covered lips of your sex. No, it was definitely neutered now.

“You’re an asshole,” you said, your walls squeezing in longing. Your peered up at him, blood rushing your cheeks. “Please let me see your face.” It was so quiet, you barely acknowledged that it came from your mouth.

“Here? No,” he said.

You groaned. “Please. Some evidence of humanity.”

He was silent, the blank mask considering your desperate face. “A compromise.” A leather hand travelled up your body, over the swell of your hips and breasts, the blood pumping through your neck, and stopping at your lips. He rested the very tips of his fingers against your teeth. “Bite.”

You swallowed and bit on the edge of the glove, and he tugged against it, his hand slipping out. It was human--peach skin, long, strong fingers, tendons tensing under the flesh. Your heart pounded against your sternum. He took the glove from you and had you repeat the action--now both of his hands were visible, as real as you’d hoped they’d be.

“You’re really a man,” you said, louder than you intended.

“Enough,” he said. He gripped your face and forced your jaw open with his thumb. “Quiet.” His thumb pressed on your tongue, eliciting a gag. Any concern you had evaporated as you felt the live, human pulse of his fingers digging into you.

“Good girl,” he said. His other hand returned to your thigh, and the feeling of his smooth skin against yours made you squirm with delight. He held you fast and dragged the tips of his fingers across your trembling flesh, stopping at your sex.

You groaned and inched your pelvis forward on the line, seeking more of his touch. An amused huff resonated from underneath his mask, and he humored you, two fingers drawing lines up and down your outer lips, catching on your panties. Your walls throbbed, and you wiggled your hips in an attempt to get him to touch your aching clit.

“So that’s how desperate you are,” he said, and flicked a finger past your clit. A deep, soft moan left your throat. “You need this, don’t you?”

You nodded against his hand, tongue fighting him to no result. His fingers jabbed into your skin, craning your head to look into the black slit of his mask. He relieved your mouth of his thumb, still holding tight to your neck.

“Tell me you need it,” he said.

“Please,” you gasped, spit leaking from the side of your mouth. “I need this, sir, please.”

“Look how easily you crumble for me,” he said. “Much better.” He returned his thumb to your mouth and rewarded your obedience, sliding his fingers underneath the hem of your panties.

You choked back a moan as the pad of his finger drew slow circles around your clit, warmth flooding your body. Your hands clutched the edge of the serving line, legs spreading wider to provide him better access. He growled, rubbing faster in response, sending shocks of pleasure through you, your hips bucking.

“Dirty thing,” he said, craning your head back further. You were looking into the ceiling--not that it mattered. A haze of pleasure was clouding your vision, drool spilling from your mouth as he massaged your tongue with his thumb.

Kylo Ren’s finger left your clit and followed your swollen outer lips, teasing your aching entrance. A foreign sound left your throat--frustration, pleasure intertwined--and your neck strained against his hand. Gods, you wanted this bastard.

“I heard that,” he said. He thrust his middle and fourth finger inside of you, provoking a restrained squeal as your entire body jerked in response, your cunt clamping around him. He growled again, curling his fingers inside of you. “So tight and wet…”

You were working hard to throttle any moans, legs opening wider, hips shifting near the edge of the line. Without thinking, you grasped his biceps to steady yourself, and you felt his muscles harden underneath your fingers as his arms yanked back, pulling you closer.

His chest was rising and falling against you as he fingered you, brushing his thumb past your swollen clit, rocking his hand against you. You pulse picked up, your breath coming faster, and you moaned again. Your clit was throbbing, begging for attention.

“You want to cum, don’t you?” he muttered, his own voice cracking. You bobbed your head frantically, and he pulled his thumb from your mouth. “Say it, little whore.”

“Please,” you whispered into the cloak over his shoulder, hands clasping his arms. You couldn’t get out much else as he grazed your clit again, bolts of ecstasy halting your ability to make words.

“Please what?” he said, driving his fingers deeper into your cunt.

“Let me cum,” you said, voice torn with your irregular breath. “Please let me cum!”

“There we go,” he replied. You could almost hear his smirk.

He started rubbing your clit, and a third finger worked its way inside of you, ramming against the raised flesh it found. You cried out, tightening around him, and he hooked his thumb in your mouth once more, burying his fingers into your scalp as he leaned into your ear.

“I thought I told you to be quiet,” he said, the vibrations of his mask echoing through your skin.

Your eyes shut and you managed half of a nod, moaning quietly as he stroked your clit faster, his wrist snapping with each thrust of his fingers. His movements became rough, urgent, your body sliding back and forth, your pleasure building. You were pulsing around him, short, insistent groans escaping your throat, his thumb assailing your stiff nub. You were balancing on your peak, ready to tip over. To silence yourself, your mouth closed around his thumb, sucking fiercely, and he groaned in praise, hissing your name in your ear.

“That’s right,” he said. “Cum for me, whore.”

White light flashed behind your eyelids as you exploded, a blissful heat ripping through you, and you shoved your face into his cowl as you came hard around his fingers, walls contracting, body shuddering. Your moans were muffled by the thick fabric, and you struggled to catch your breath as you descended, aftershocks rumbling through you as he slowed his ministrations until he pulled out completely.

You became aware how tight you had been holding him, and you pushed away, a wave of hot shame washing over you. Your hair was sticking to your face, your cheeks tingling.

“Such a good girl,” he said, and lifted his fingers from your pussy to your lips. “Tell me how good you taste.”

Embarrassed, you took them into your mouth, sucking hard, tongue cleaning away your own juices. You tasted hot, sharp, and a thrill streaked through you as you felt his eyes watching you, his chest heaving with anticipation as he pulled them from your mouth. Courage bubbled up inside of you.

“You don’t know what you’re missing,” you said, heart pounding.

“Another time, then,” Kylo Ren said, hand finally leaving your face. Without his touch, your body felt barren. Desolate. He tugged his gloves back on and regarded you once more before turning and walking away. “I’m sure you feel better now, don’t you?” He didn’t wait for a response, and vanished around the corner.

Breath was still catching up with you, and, when you felt your legs solidify, you eased yourself from the serving line. Now you’d have to remember this every time you ate. You hoped they sanitized before every meal hour. You crossed your arms and bit your lip, emotions teetering between joy and horror. Kylo Ren knew your name--Kylo Ren knew your name.

“Shit,” you said to yourself, feeling stuck to the ground. He had done it again.

Chapter Text

If there was anything more embarrassing than being forced to train with Samuel Foster for one month, you couldn’t think of what it could be. The bright side was that you weren’t assigned to the Command Shuttle. But not being assigned to the Command Shuttle was an essential demotion. Every move you made was monitored by your former colleague--now boss.

“How’s it going, bud?” he asked, hovering over your shoulder. You could feel his eyes scanning your work.

You sighed and faced him. “Sam, do you seriously have to micro-manage me like this? It’s driving me nuts.”

Sam blushed and stepped back. “Oh… jeez. You’re right. I’m sorry.”

“Do you think I’m an idiot, or something?” you asked.

“No! No!” he said, holding up his hands. “I just… You made a really big mistake up there. It’s not like you.”

You narrowed your eyes. “Yeah, dude. I know. Thanks for reminding me.”

He pulled up a stool and sat next to you. “You still haven’t told me what happened.”

“Ugh,” you said, dragging your fingers down your face. “Why do you keep asking?”

“Because,” he said, placing a hand on your knee. Your cheeks lit up. “I’m a little worried, I guess.”

A hard lump congealed in your throat. You couldn’t tell him what had happened with Kylo Ren. You couldn’t tell anybody what had happened with Kylo Ren. Like the time you sucked his dick like it was the elixir of life. Or in the mess hall last week when he made you cum so hard you saw galaxies. You hadn’t seen him since then. You hated that he did this to you and went on as if you didn’t exist--as if you were nothing. You hated that you continued thinking about him at all.

“I screwed up. That’s all there is to it.” You pushed his hand from your knee.

“I’ve never seen you do something like that, though,” Sam said, frowning and crossing his arms.

You laughed bitterly, remembering Ren’s words. “There’s a first time for everything.” You left your seat, jaw tight, and busied yourself with the busted cannon you had been working on. Anything other than continuing that conversation.

The cannon was blanketed in black ash from the laser shot it had taken a few days ago. The pilot claimed that he had been hit by a Resistance fighter, but there hadn’t been a report about any foreign ships for days. You took a finger and smudged away a bit of the ash, bringing it up to your face to examine it. Flecks of emerald light flickered in the soot. A grin split your face--the glint of green dust was a sure sign of a TIE fighter cannon. The pilot had probably done something stupid enough to manage hitting himself with his own weapon.

“Sam!” you called from under the cannon. “This is definitely a TIE fighter shot.”

Sam got up, shaking his head. “No way,” he replied. “I just looked that over. It came from an X-Wing.”

Your hand curled into a fist as you stalked over to him, presenting your ash-covered finger. “No, look at this,” you said. “Green dust. TIE fighter.”

“Green dust can come from the exhausts of freighters,” he said, pushing your arm down. “Not that it matters anyway.”

A familiar heat was building in your face. “Uh, it kind of does matter,” you replied. “If he shot himself, then we have to go through an entirely separate billing procedure.”

“Well, that would matter if it had come from a TIE fighter. But it didn’t. It came from an X-Wing. The heat markings left--”

“Dude, there were no unfamiliar craft identified within radar distance when he was shot!” you said, grabbing for his data pad. You were right. You knew you were right.

Sam’s eyes widened as he tugged back on the pad, brow furrowing when you wouldn’t let it go. “Look, you’re training under me right now, and--”

You balked. “Okay then!” you said, shoving the data pad into his chest, knocking him off-balance. “Forget it, then, Sam. Okay? Forget it. I’m taking the rest of the day off. Have fun.” You stomped off, tears stinging your eyes as your hands balled up so tightly that blood drained from your knuckles.

Sam called after you, but his voice was drowned by the tsunami of rage inside of your head. You wanted nothing more than to leave a black eye on his stupid pretty face, your cheeks on fire as you replayed what he had said over and over again. You’re training under me. You’re training under me. Sam knew how much this job meant to you, and knew how embarrassed you were about what had happened. His insensitivity despite all of that drove knives into your chest. Maybe everything about this assignment was a mistake.

Your feet carried you back to your quarters before your mind realized where you were. The water in your eyes was falling fast, and you couldn’t focus enough to unlock the door. You collapsed against it, sobs wracking your ribs. Between Kylo Ren and Sam, you had never felt more unwanted and alone in your life.

A voice calling your name pierced the fog washing over you. You turned, hiding your face with your hands. It was Sam--red-faced, out of breath. You swallowed and wiped your eyes and nose with your sleeve. “What do you wan--”

Sam cut you off, smothering your mouth with his own as he gripped the sides of your head. Your eyes popped open, your body a board. The heat inside of you was morphing from embarrassment to... something else. You sucked in a breath through your nose as you kissed him back, your limbs liquefying against him.

He released you, leaving your lips buzzing. His eyes were leaping across your face. “Uh… sorry… I just…”

You smirked and snagged the front of his uniform, pulling him into you again. You moaned into his mouth as you slid your tongue between his teeth, wrapping your arms around him. Sam was exploring your body--feeling out every curve, testing your reaction. He was tender, your frame fragile in his hands. Your hand tangled itself in his curly golden hair, and, without thinking, you tugged on it--hard.

Sam flinched. “Ow!” he said, pulling away and rubbing the aching spot on his head.

Gasping, you took his hand. “Oh, Gods, Sam! I’m sorry!” You kissed your palm and patted the spot, as if your affection were a salve. “I just… I got a little excited…”

He smiled and winked. “Didn’t know you were into stuff like that.”

Blush reddened your cheeks. He wouldn’t want to know what else you were into. “Well, uh, hey. I’m full of surprises.” You bit your lip, gliding your hand down his arm.

“I can see that,” he replied. His gaze fell to the ground. “I have to get back to work, but… I’m sorry. Seriously. Take the rest of the day off. My fault for being a jerk. Won’t happen again.”

You nodded, grinning. “Hmm, I think I’ve already found it in my heart to forgive you. But thanks. I will.”

A sigh escaped him, his shoulders rolling back. “Okay. Awesome. I’ll… uh, I’ll catch you tomorrow?”

“I’ll be there at seven-hundred.”

“Cool. I’ll… I’ll see you then.” He fumbled with your hand, and settled on squeezing it. “Later.”

“Bye,” you replied, smirking as you watched him leave. His butt still looked fantastic. You unlocked your door and kicked your shoes off as you shut it behind you.
Your heart was soaring over the entirety of Starkiller. It wouldn’t have surprised you if was approaching the outer atmosphere. Since the day you met Sam, you’d adored him, but had always figured that he’d be interested an amorphous person you had created who was “better.” The fact that someone like him--smart, kind, successful, hot as hell--had kissed you? You buried your face in your pillow as you attempted to conceal your joy.

The feeling stayed with you throughout the rest of the day, into the night, when you attempted to get one off to the thought of Sam. But every time that you passed the point of kissing, images of Kylo Ren--his smooth, warm hands, your name falling from his mouth--interrupted you.

It wasn’t until you gave up and tried to fall asleep that you felt your brain being crushed, ears ringing out of your skull. Your pulse went skyward, recognizing the pressure of Kylo Ren--but seconds passed, and then minutes, and then an hour--silence. At some point, your exhaustion evolved into sleep.

--

The next morning, you practically skipped to your assignment, unable to shake the smile from your face. You saw Sam seated at the diagnostic terminal, already scrolling through his data pad to organize today’s tasks. He turned at the sound of your footsteps, a flush creeping across his face. The boiling question of an undefined relationship hung between you.

“Hey,” he said.

You shrugged. “Hey. What’s on the agenda for today?”

The haze of affection in his eyes vanished. “Oh!” he said. “Actually, it’s a good thing you’re here. Walk-through today. In, like, thirty minutes.”

The thumping in your heart might as well have been broadcast across the base. “Oh,” was all you could say.

He rolled his eyes, patting your shoulder. “It’ll be fine. Promise.” He returned to the terminal and tapped through the screens. “By the way, you were right. That pilot shot himself.”

Your jaw dropped and you bellowed with laughter, your lungs sucking in the air of victory. “Ha! I told you! I freakin’ told you, you jerk!”

“Guilty, guilty,” he replied, raising his hands. “Won’t doubt you again.”

“Better not,” you said, winking. “Now help me clean up.”

He nodded, and the two of you organized the workspace, making it appear as if no one had done any work there in the past month. Why that was judged to be superior to a functional-looking area, you didn’t know.

Voices across the docking bay rose and then fell, signaling the entrance of Hux and Ren. A rock weighed on your chest as you stood straight next to Sam, wanting to look as compliant as he did. You fixed what could be fixed of your hair, smoothed out your uniform, and clipped your heels together.

Sam took one of your trembling hands. “Don’t be so nervous,” he whispered.

It was hard to take his advice when you saw Hux and Kylo Ren round the corner, making their way toward your area. Ren’s robes fluttered around his body, his stride longer than you remembered. As you felt Sam’s blood pulse through his hand, you mind raced back to Kylo Ren holding your mouth open, his thumb crooked onto your tongue, his fingers digging into your cunt. You shuddered, your thighs clenching together. Gods, you hated him.

“Relax,” Sam said again, and squeezed your hand.

You nodded, realizing that Sam was right. You tried desperately to clear your mind, recalling what Ren had said about hearing your thoughts. Relaxing was paramount--but between Sam holding your hand and the steady approach of the General and Commander, you were about to fall to pieces.

Kylo Ren’s pace slowed as he closed in on you. Sam’s grip on your hand tightened, and your stomach flipped, thinking back to when he kissed you--a thought you instantly regretted as you caught Kylo Ren’s fingers flexing in and out of fists. He spat your last name--another thing you hadn’t known he knew. What you did know is that he saw Sam drop your hand as he approached.

“Do you make it a habit to fraternize with your supervisors?” he said, his body a wall in front of you and Sam.

You couldn’t believe he was asking you that question. Unable to hold back your indignity, you replied, “I don’t know. Do I, Commander?”

Sam coughed. “Ah! She’s just nervous, sir,” he said, shooting you a glare.

“Right. Just nervous, Commander,” you said, cocking an eyebrow, daring him to call you out on your lie.

Ren’s chest inflated, his hand darting to the lightsaber at his side. Before you had a chance to react, he ignited it, and the hot red blade crackled to life. He raised it above him as if to slice through your head, and you shut your eyes and screamed, barely cognizant of Sam catching your arms and ripping you away. But Kylo Ren hadn’t been aiming for you--his victim was the diagnostic terminal, which, as you opened your eyes, you noticed was now severed in half, birthing waves of sparks onto the floor.

You were shaking in Sam’s arms, wide eyes trained on the mass of dark robes in front of you. Kylo Ren spun around, killing his saber and replacing it on his hip. The black hole in his mask was tearing into your chest, shattering the world around you, leaving behind only Kylo Ren and his wretched, expressionless mask.

“Just know that I heard you,” he said, before turning and taking the storm of fury and fear with him.

Hux wasn’t far behind Ren, leering blaster bolts into your eyes. “I was under the impression you were fixing this problem, engineer,” he said. Did he still not know your name?

“General, sir,” Sam said, stepping forward. “This was my fault. Direct any punishment at me.”

“Foster,” the General said, looking between the two of you. “Watch yourself. And keep an eye on her.” He frowned before marching in Kylo Ren’s direction.

“Guess I have to keep an eye on you,” said Sam, trying to kill the tension. He grinned. “I wonder what Commander Ren was talking about, huh?”

But you couldn’t return his smile. You knew what Kylo Ren had been talking about. The burning inside your skull before you had fallen asleep. The fists at his sides. He knew you had kissed Sam. And that you went on to disrespect him in front of Sam. His words echoed inside of your head.

I have to destroy you.

You hated that you couldn’t wait.

Chapter Text

Sam had eaten dinner with you and kissed you in the hallway before he left to finish up an order on the docking bay. You went back to your quarters carrying a hum in your chest, your face sore from the smile you’d been wearing. There was nothing official between the two of you--yet--but the past few days had you hopeful that something was going to happen.

You fumbled with your datapad as you stood in front of your door, mind flipping through images of Sam’s lips, his arms, his smile--how he’d--

“So, this is where he kissed you.” Your heart leapt into your throat, your entire body jolting in fear.

“Holy shit!” you said, twisting around. You didn’t have to think to identify the owner of the dark, modified voice. Kylo Ren stood between you and any avenue of escape down the hallway. You dropped your voice to a hoarse whisper. “What the fu--what are you doing!”

“How did you put it--oh, right--ruining your life?” he replied.

You had already started to sweat. You scouted the hallways, your head on a swivel. No one was out there--yet. “What are you doing here! I can’t be seen with you!”

“Let me in, then,” he said. The smirk was audible in his voice.

Your heart had fallen from your throat to somewhere inside of your intestines, the hair on your arms stiff. “You bastard,” you said, working to open the door anyway.

You kept your mind on Sam, trying to convince yourself that you wouldn’t do anything. The door slid open and you shuffled to the middle of the room, wanting to keep distance from Kylo Ren as he followed you inside. As the entrance closed behind him, you swallowed. Your mouth was drier than sand.

“What?” you said, arms crossed, eyes stuck to the floor.

“I suggest you stop whatever you’ve been doing with him,” he replied, taking a step forward.

You retreated as he did. “Who, Sam? Good luck getting me in trouble for that, considering what--”

“Thinking about him. Kissing him. I have to hear it. All the time.”

Your jaw dropped. Was Kylo Ren… jealous? You had thought he was pissed for disrespecting him, but this? “Don’t you have a job to do? You know, for the First Order? You can’t busy yourself with that?”

He moved toward you again. “I make time for you.”

You bristled. “Why do you even care, man? Every time we’ve done something, you drop me like a rock. You act like I don’t even fucking exist!” Anger you hadn’t known existed was sparking to life.

“I’ve already told you. You’re a burden on my thoughts. I have to... own you. Possess you.” He paused. “That means no one else.”

You scoffed, rolling your eyes. “Why do you think I’d hold out for a man who fingerblasts me in a cafeteria and then doesn’t speak to me for a week? Why do you think I’d keep a candle lit for a face I’ve never even seen?”

Silence gripped the air, your words fizzing out in the break. You wondered what was happening underneath his mask--what he looked like, what he was thinking, what he was feeling. You wondered why he wore the mask to begin with. Kylo Ren looked around your room, then straight at you, your heart constricting under his stare. After what seemed an eternity, he moved, hands pulling back his hood, then going to the sides of his helmet, the locks hissing as they released. Your blood congealed inside of your veins--your pulse paralyzed.

He bent his head as he pulled the helmet away, and as he looked back up, he tossed it to the side. It smacked your floor with a loud, heavy thump.

“Holy shit,” you said. It was as if oxygen had left the air.

Kylo Ren was far, far more attractive than you had imagined. He was downright beautiful. Black hair fell in thick waves onto his cloak, framing a face with full, pink lips and piercing dark eyes. His cheekbones were high, his nose aquiline, his skin peppered with freckles. Now your blood was spilling into your cheeks, down your neck. A distant pull, low in your belly. It was happening.

“Your turn,” he said. His natural voice weakened your knees.

You gaped. “My--my what?”

“Strip,” he replied. The intensity of his gaze hadn’t dampened a bit.

Something below your stomach--you weren’t sure what--clenched. Tight. “I--I can’t. I… Sam…” Everything about this situation had changed. You couldn’t find where you had placed your anger or your infatuation with Sam--you imagined that your hunger for Kylo Ren had disintegrated them.

He came closer, stealing the comfortable distance between you. But when he was within feet of you, he changed course, walking behind you, the quiet thud of his boots cracking the stillness of your room. You felt the power he had brimming from his body, even out of your sight.

“Perhaps you need more convincing,” he said. And then, his hot mouth was breathing into your ear, his hand trailing a line down from your shoulder, your entire body wilting against him. “Take. Off. Your. Clothes.”

“You asshole,” you whined, lightning shooting up your spine. If you had wanted him badly with his mask on, this was about 100 times worse. You would bet money that your panties were already soaked.

His lips ghosted over your earlobe, brushing your neck, hand dipping from your shoulder to under your breast. “Take them off.”

“Fuck!” you said, jumping away from him. “Fine!” You swallowed again, finding yourself strangled by anxiety.

You faced him, quaking everywhere, from the tips of your fingers to your chin. His eyes were unyielding, burrowing into your brain. Hoping to ease your vacillating nerves, you drew in a long breath and chewed your lip. Trembling digits fiddled with the buttons of your top, popping them out one by one until the front of your shirt hung open. You glanced at Kylo Ren, who was watching you as if you were the only thing that did exist.

Another shudder as you shrugged off your shirt, your skin bumping up as it hit the open air. You gasped for breath as you slipped out of your shoes and undid the fasteners on your pants. Blushing, you slid your thumbs underneath the fabric on your hips and eased the trousers to the floor. As you stepped out of them, you caught Kylo Ren’s eyes lingering on your breasts, and you clenched again.

“Now what?” you said, folding your arms over your chest and looking anywhere but at him.

“I’m certain I told you to strip,” he said.

You glanced at your situation--still in your embarrassingly plain undergarments. “Are you--you’re serious?” The idea of standing stark naked in front of Kylo Ren filled you with dread. “I mean, come on, I look like hot garbage right now.”

“Conveniently, I just developed a fetish for dumpster fires,” he replied. “The rest. Now.”

“Ugh!” you said. “I hate you so much.” You shot him a glare as you reached behind you to undo your bra. Gulping, you slid the straps from your shoulders, and, after you closed your eyes, you let the garment fall to the ground. Another breath, and you pulled down your panties, hoping that you weren’t so wet that it was gleaming off of your thighs. You couldn’t bear to open your eyes again.

You heard Kylo Ren shuffling, moving around you, felt his eyes consuming you. Heat was pooling on your cheeks, in your belly, between your thighs. A shiver shook you. When you opened your eyes, he was standing in front of you again, his outer robes removed, and was dragging his eyes over every inch of your naked body. You grumbled, shifting your weight from one foot to the other, and his gaze flicked up to meet yours.

“Well?” you said, your skin crawling. “Is it the dumpster fire of your dreams?”

The corner of his lip twitched, and he brought his hand to his mouth, taking the tip of his glove in his teeth and tearing it away. You bit your lip as he followed suit with the other glove, his eyes making liquid of your insides. He meandered behind you again, and before you had a chance to hold your breath, a finger drew a line from your collarbone, down your arm, and back up again, crossing the back of your shoulders and moving upwards. As it reached your neck, the rest of his fingers joined, gripping the front of your throat and tilting your head to the side.

He buried his face in the space created between your head and shoulders, his lips grazing the exposed flesh of your throat, his other hand snaking under your arm and squeezing your breast. “You’re beautiful,” he murmured.

You whimpered, becoming putty in his hands. Had he really just said that? Kylo Ren smirked against your skin, sucking softly at your neck, his other hand teasing your nipple, the sensitive peak turning stiff at his touch. There was a fire raging between your legs--part of you wanted to turn around and ride him, and the other part was too shocked to move.

“You want me,” he said, grinding his hips against your ass, his arousal obvious even through his clothes.

“Shit,” was all that you could say. You were still shaking.

“Shh,” he said, twisting your nipple. “I don’t think I asked a question.”

His hand left your breast, slithering down your stomach, leaving embers in its wake. He caressed the mound of your pussy, fingers daring to dip between your folds--but stopping short. His hips were still flush against your backside, the length of his cock digging into you. Your heart was slamming against your ribcage.

“Filthy thing,” he whispered into your neck, before wrapping his lips against your skin and sucking hard, causing you to cry out. He pulled away, changing spots, before biting down and sucking again, his finger slipping between the lips of your cunt and stroking your clit. “Look how wet you are--I’ve barely touched you.”

You groaned and the fingers around your throat squeezed, leaning your head further back. His finger skimmed your throbbing clit and your thighs clamped together in an attempt to force more contact. In response, he bit your shoulder, teeth threatening to break the skin. You yelped, and he tightened his grip around your neck.

“You’re making far too much noise,” he said, and spun you around, pushing you onto your bed, which was up against the wall. You made careful not to bang your head as you plopped onto it.

It was only moments after you had landed that he was pushing your seated body against the wall, straddling you. Your eyes widened as he pinned your arms above your head with one of his hands and crushed your lips with his own. His tongue was in your mouth immediately, wrestling with yours, his kiss so urgent that your teeth clacked together. You fought to pull away and catch your breath, but he was relentless, biting your lower lip and pressing harder into you. His other hand kept busy groping at your tits, tweaking your nipples, until finally he peeled open your legs, parted your folds, and, without warning, plunged two fingers into your pussy.

You squealed into his mouth, your walls contracting around him, and he smiled against your lips, moving now to the other, unblemished side of your neck. He nibbled and sucked at your flesh, trailing red, puckering marks down to your shoulder. You squirmed underneath him, and he held you steady, rolling his wrist as his fingers curled inside of you. Every inch of your skin was in flames, your thighs quivering as he drew quiet moans from your throat.

Kylo Ren pulled away, eyes darting across your body. “I just remembered something,” he said, his fingers leaving your pussy.

You knew what he was going do, but couldn’t find the words to respond. He held your gaze as he drew his digits up to his mouth and led them along his tongue, cleaning away your juices. He licked his lips as he finished, a wicked grin splitting his face.

“You were right,” he said. “I didn’t know what I was missing.”

“Told you,” you replied, experiencing a rare moment of clarity.

He pressed his mouth to yours again, bruising your lips, the taste of your pussy fresh on his tongue. You moaned against him, your cunt crying out to be filled again. It was intolerable--Sam be damned, you needed Kylo Ren’s cock.

A smile against your mouth, and he pulled away. “What was that?” he said, his smugness unbearable.

“Dammit,” you said. You hated that he could hear your thoughts.

“Say it,” he said, the hand around your wrists pushing them into the wall.

“I need your cock,” you mumbled.

“One more time,” he ordered.

“I need your cock!” you spat, leering at him. Fucking asshole.

“I heard that, too,” he said, his steel tone slowing your heartbeat. His other hand was rustling at the fabric of his pants.

You hadn’t wanted to be, but you were mesmerized as he pulled out his erection, running his hand along its length. You had forgotten how big it was--and it looked even better in the light. The longing between your legs grew more insistent, your walls pulsing as you watched him rub his dick.

“Little whore,” he said, and he let go of your wrists, snatching your hair and forcing your mouth onto his thick cock.

The familiar taste of his member sent saliva rushing from your cheeks as he bobbed your head back and forth along his shaft. Despite the back strain you had from the angle, you were humming against him, stroking him with your spit-slicked hands, meeting his eyes with your best lust-hazed look. As he stared back at you, watching your mouth swallow his length over and over, his pupils blew wide, his eyes like black coins.

“Yes,” he said, jaw slack with pleasure. “Suck it.”

A moan rumbled in your mouth, vibrating through him, and he groaned, pushing his dick down into your throat. You retched, but he was unflinching, using his other hand to keep your head in place as he jerked his hips. Giving into the pressure, you relaxed your throat, swallowing against him, obtaining another deep groan from him. He growled and ripped you away, and you choked as his cock slipped out of you.

“Turn around,” he ordered, his hand already helping rotate your hips so that you were on your hands and knees on your bed.

You looked at the covers crinkling under your fists, your body burning with anticipation. Your head was spinning so fast that you barely had time to process what was happening, your vision clouded with longing. Kylo Ren slid his throbbing cock against the swollen folds of your cunt, the head of his member skimming your clit. You sighed, arching your back and shifting your hips back to meet him. He growled again and pulled away.

“Tell me what you want,” he said, voice thick with desire.

“For you to fuck me,” you groaned, clawing at your sheets.

“Beg for it.”

Your cheeks were hot with embarrassment. “Please fuck me, sir.”

He sneered. “Who do you want inside you, whore?”

Breath hitched in your throat--you knew what he wanted. Swallowing your pride, you shook your head. “Fuck me, Kylo,” you said, ready to break, “please, Kylo, please!”

“There’s my good girl,” he said. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting for this.”

Not sparing another second, he rammed his cock into you, moaning, the size of his shaft stretching your cunt, filling you whole. You cried out, and as you did, one of his hands was around your neck, the other seizing your hair and whipping your head back. He was savage, pounding into your pussy, your body rocking and quaking with every thrust. Any sound that dared to leave your body was caught by his grip on your throat. Pain shot through you, sweat trickling from your temples, but even still, you bucked your hips to meet his thrusts, wanting more--no, needing more.

“Greedy slut,” he said, moving his fingers from your throat to hook the side of your mouth, pulling it open. “Say my name.”

“Kylo,” you moaned, drool dripping onto the bed.

“Louder,” he said.

You grunted. “Kylo!”

“Whore!” he said, tugging at your hair, popping the joints in your neck. “Scream it so everyone knows who’s fucking you!”

“Fuck! Kylo!” you howled. Your body was hot with humiliation. He didn’t care anymore if you were heard. He was reckless to demand that of you--in the back of your mind, you hoped nobody had heard.

“That’s right,” he said, shoving your face into the bed as he slammed his cock into you.

You groaned--every noise you made was shuddering in your chest, the force of his hips creating a cadence in your breath. Your pleasure had hit a wall, and you reached toward your clit, hoping to send yourself over the edge. But that familiar invisible hand stopped you, followed by a physical hand wringing your wrists together behind your back. You cried out, writhing underneath him, tears stinging your eyes. You wanted to cum so badly.

“You don’t cum until I say so,” he said.

“Fuck--you!” you choked between the snaps of his hips.

You twisted your head around against the bed and saw him out of the corner of your eye, dark hair matted to his face, cheeks flush with blood, lips parted. He caught your gaze and snarled, pumping deeper into you, deeper than you thought was possible, pummelling your cunt until your legs began to go numb.

“Kylo,” you wailed, your clit screaming for attention. “Please!”

He snickered. The hand on your head pushed you further into the bed, and the hand on your wrists was straining your arms to tearing. But a third--invisible--hand, was at your clit, buzzing around it, the pressure delicious and building fast. Your breath was coming in spurts--you had no idea the Force could be used like this--your thighs rattling underneath you, about to collapse.

“Gods!” you said, feeling sweat slide down your back. You weren’t sure how much longer you could hold out.

He knew your weakness--he moaned your name, sinking into your pussy. “Do it,” he said. “Cum for me, bitch.”

An impossible pleasure shredded you, your moans grating your throat as your body convulsed, cumming violently, your throbbing walls milking his cock as it drove into you. The tightness of your cunt sent him over the edge, and he came with a deep, smothered groan, filling you up with his cum, fucking you both through the remnants of your climaxes. His slowed down and sighed, hands relieving your wrists and head, sliding up the sides of your hips and squeezing as he pulled out of you.

You crumbled onto the bed, feeling his seed leak onto your thighs. You were finding breath, finding your brain, finding words to articulate how good and thoroughly you had been fucked--but the world was whizzing around you as if you had turned to stone. As you fought your way back to reality, Kylo Ren had already begun putting on his robes, hands ruffling through the hair stuck to his forehead.

“Holy shit,” you said.

Kylo cocked an eyebrow, pulling on his gloves--but was silent.

You sighed, rolling onto your back. “This is what I was talking about. You make me cum harder than... uh, ever--and now you’re just gonna… leave? You expect me to just be okay with that?” You weren’t sure if Sam could fuck you like that--but he would at least cuddle afterwards.

“You expect me to stay in an engineer’s quarters overnight?” he replied.

“Well--I--I just…” He had you there. Staying in your room for the night didn’t look good for either of you--not to mention whatever business he had to take care of. Your heart crumpled in your chest.

He considered you, an unreadable emotion flashing over his dark eyes. “Next time.”

“Next time?” you said. Was he saying he’d stay over if you did this again?

Kylo Ren said nothing, retrieving his helmet from your floor and placing it back over his head. The locks hummed back into place.

“Wait, Kylo--”

“I believe it’s Commander Ren,” he said, flipping his hood up.

You frowned, crestfallen, and he turned and left through your door. You listened to the sound of his boots in the hall until they were echoes in your ears. Sweaty, naked, oozing cum--you needed a shower. Pulling yourself together, you inhaled and wobbled over to the bathroom, wondering how you’d walk to work tomorrow. Oh, no--work. You turned the shower on. The thought of facing Sam tomorrow tied your stomach in knots.

The water was hot. You didn’t think it was hot enough to burn away sin.

Chapter Text

“Wow.”

Standing in the mirror, you regarded your neck and shoulders with the same horror one might regard a rotting tauntaun carcass. In less than a day, the landscape of your upper torso had been reduced to three colors: red, blue, and black. Hickeys were one thing--you’d had a couple before (though never this many, and never this severe), so you had experience with covering them up. But the ruddy outline of a hand that encircled your neck wasn’t as easy to conceal. Neither was the crescent of teeth on your shoulder.

And yet, if those had been your only issues, you might have felt less inclined to launch yourself into space. No, the main problem was the fact that overnight, your legs had been replaced with rubber sticks, and someone had decided to shove what felt like a ball of spikes straight up your vagina. In your condition, simply walking was as great a task as anything that might await you at your assignment.

You weren’t sure how you’d explain to Sam the sudden change that had overcome you. You imagined that the excuse of “Kylo Ren fucked my brains out” probably wouldn’t go over well--if he even believed you. Like a dying lily, your heart flopped. Could you really look at the earnest, sweet face of Samuel Foster and lie straight to it?

As you waddled into work, a turtleneck under your uniform, Sam’s brows came together in a hard line, and before you could blink, he was at your side, volunteering himself as your human crutch.

“Stars,” he said, “what happened to you?”

Your scalp ached at the memory. “Just cramps,” you replied. Turns out lying to him wasn’t that hard, after all.

The look of disbelief lingered on his face. “Cramps? Really?” he said.

“Uh, yeah, cramps. You get them along with the monthly bleeding. You ever have ‘em?” you said, sneering.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said. “You’re right. Jerk thing to say. My fault.”

You patted his shoulder, a gentle ribbing of his own signature. “Don’t worry, Foster. You’re all right by me.”

Guilt was strangling you. You decided right there--that was it. You had fucked Kylo Ren (you couldn’t believe that was a thought you could think and have it be true), and it was out of your system now. It wouldn’t happen again. It couldn’t happen again--your body probably wouldn’t be able to sustain another fucking like that, anyway.

“You sure you’re able to work like this?” he asked.

“I’m on probation, dude. Won’t look good for me to miss days during my punishment phase,” you said. At least that wasn’t a lie.

His lips twisted in a frown. “Yeah, I guess you’re right about that.” He glanced over you once more and then sat you down at the new diagnostic terminal--the pressure of the chair on your backside brought a crease to your browline. “Nothing but routine maintenance today. Maybe you could do me a favor and clear out all of the old orders?”

Despite his pleading smile, you sighed. “Really? I’m not incapacitated.”

“I just saw you wince as you sat down!” he said. “You expect me to let you climb inside a runoff pipe? Come on now. Let me be a good boss!”

You rolled your eyes, pouting. “Fine, fine.”

He peeked over his shoulder and planted a kiss on your forehead. “See, there are some benefits to being, uh, well, whatever-we-are with the boss.”

It hadn’t been a statement so much as a question. What were you? The warmth radiating through you was pounced on by another massive wave of guilt. Sam trusted you, liked you--and you returned those feelings. But the thought of committing to him without letting him know that you probably still had the Commander’s cum inside of you mangled your guts. You needed a week--no, a month--without any part of Kylo Ren going inside of any part of you. Then you’d commit to Sam.

“You know, I still think you need to take me out on a date before we can be official,” you said.

Sam grinned. “Ah ha--I knew I had missed a courting procedure. You’re a high-maintenance gal, you know that?” He winked, turning your cheeks crimson.

“You got me,” you said, giggling. “But seriously--I think we should wait for me to get off of probation before doing… anything. You know?” That would be almost a month.

“Yeah, you’re right,” he replied, scratching the back of his head.

“After all, I wouldn’t want to get in the way of you and General Hux.” You puckered your lips and wrinkled your face, doing your best uptight-ginger impression. “Foster, I’ve never seen an engineer more skilled than you, you’re incredible, would, would you--would you mind if I sucked your dick, Foster?”

“Ugh!” he said, giving you a playful shove. He was smiling despite himself. “You’re nasty.”

Neck hairs stiffened as you remembered screaming Kylo Ren’s name. “Yup. That’s me.”

He smirked. “You think Hux is weird toward me, what about you and Commander Ren?”

Somehow, your own saliva had lodged itself in your esophagus, and you choked on it. “Wh-what do you mean, me and C-commander Ren?” you said. Was he just playing with you this entire time?

“Come on, you know what I mean!” he replied, and put his hands over his mouth to simulate Ren’s voice, shouting your last name. "Even though I’m the one ruining these machines, nothing you do is ever good enough for me!”

“Ugh, I know, right?” you said, smiling. Well--not nothing. “Ah, well. Sometimes you’re the scapegoat.”

Sam shook his head in commiseration, as if he’d ever been the scapegoat once in his life. “Well, Ms. Scapegoat, let’s get to work.” He rubbed your back before heading off to one of the ships.

Another sigh escaped your chest, relieving the built-up tension that you hadn’t noticed until Sam had left your sight. You could do this for another month--right? Easy-peasy. As long as you were working under Sam, you weren’t going to be messing with the Command Shuttle, so, really, you probably wouldn’t even see Kylo Ren for the rest of your probation.

The memory of his eyes raking over you--irises golden brown, sparked with the embers of lust--sent an anxious chill through your bones. You groaned, planting your face in your hands. The day seemed to be getting longer and longer.

By the time your shift was up, your brain had ran through last night’s scene enough times to brand it into your neurons. You were thankful that the only person on base able to read your thoughts was also the only person in the room with you last night--at the same time, you resented that he might know you were thinking about him at all.

A day of sitting at a screen had your leg shaking like an unstable hyperdrive--when the clock indicated it was time to leave, you sprung from your chair, wobbling on your legs only two times before you steadied yourself. While you predicted you’d still need a day or two of reduced load to fix your apparently bruised birth canal, the passing time had enabled you to walk in a way that almost looked normal. You shuffled over to Sam, who was chest-deep in an engine block.

“Hey,” you said, wiping the pain from your face. “It’s quitting time, dude.”

He popped out from the partition, eyebrows raised. “Already? Wow! Time flies when you’re having fun, huh?”

You looked at him with an expression that couldn’t be duller if he had decided to lecture you, instead. “Yeah, man. I just had a blast.”

“Aww,” he said, grabbing a rag and wiping the space goop from his hands. “Come on now, it wasn’t that bad.”

“Next time, you can clear out the cache then,” you replied, crossing your arms.

Sam shut the door to the engine and sidled up next to you. “All right, all right. Let’s go, Captain Crankypants. You need some food.” He flashed a wide grin. “In fact, you know what, let’s consider this our date. Uh, friend-date, that is. Obviously.”

“A dinner date at a cafeteria?” you said. “Such a romantic.”

He batted his eyelashes dramatically. “Oh, I know.”

You nudged him, hiding a smile. “Dork.”

Though you didn’t hold hands on the way to dinner, you could feel it--the blooming affection between you, its vines weaving a tether between your bodies. There was no way you wanted to screw this up.

As you turned the corner into the mess hall, your eyes went like magnets to the serving line where Kylo had fingerbanged you. Flames licked at your cheeks as you imagined telling Sam of your exploits: Yes, dear, this is where he shoved three fingers up my pussy and had me cum in his hand like a trained fuckslave. Oh, and didn’t I tell you about the Command Shuttle? Well--

“You gonna sit, or what?” Sam asked, holding a meal out to you.

“Oh!” you said, hoping the prickle in your face would die down. “Sorry, sorry.” You took the food and grabbed a seat across from him--he had gotten the nameless mush you tolerated the most. Thoughtful.

“You, uh, you okay?” he said. “You want something else? I can go grab--”

“No, no!” you said, beginning to work on the food. “Just cramps again.” You supposed in some way, it wasn’t entirely a lie--Kylo Ren was most certainly a pain in your side.

He grimaced. “Dang. I’m sorry.”

You flapped your hands in the air, shooing the subject out of the room. “Don’t worry about it.” You took a bite of the mush--somehow, it tasted better, sitting across from him. “You know, it hasn’t been too bad. Training under you, I mean.”

“Glad you think so,” he replied, sighing. “You don’t deserve to be training under me for an entire month. There’s plenty of stuff you could be teaching me, after all.”

“Nah,” you said, blushing.

Sam rolled his eyes and covered his mouth again, his hands an impromptu resonance catcher. “One of these days, you’ll learn to take a compliment from me--or else!”

His imitation of Kylo Ren’s voice was pretty spot on--you couldn’t help the peal of laughter it elicited. You scrunched up your face again. “Foster, when will you learn that you’re simply the greatest engineer there is? Quit denying my love for you, and that’s an order!”

Maybe it was the stress of a long day, but the both of you erupted into a fit, giggling until tears were beading at the corners of your eyes. You were wheezing, fighting to catch your breath, but Sam would lock eyes with you and it would start over again. The few others seated in the room were stealing irritated glances as you both struggled to calm down.

“Ohh,” you said, finally finding a foundation to balance on. “Oh, wow. Whew.”

Sam shook his head, wiping his eyes. “Hey, not to play into the joke, but, you wanna come with me to the command center after we finish? I have to deliver the maintenance report to Hux. Guerrin’s too lazy.”

“T-the command center?” you said. The smart thing to do would be to bow out, head back to your room, and meditate under a cold shower for the rest of the night. But you were having so much fun--and you’d be with Sam. What would be the worst that could happen? “Y-yeah. Okay. I’ll go.”

He nodded. “Cool.”

The two of you finished your meal, disposed of the waste, and headed to the command center. Reminders of the night before continued to hinder your stride, but the pain was fading into the background--as if your body had lived with it enough, and was deciding to move on from the ordeal.

As you arrived at the hatch of the command center, you were prepared for the sass of the two Stormtroopers standing guard. Instead, they nodded and stepped aside as the hatch parted.

“Nice to see you again, Foster,” one of them said.

“You, too,” he replied, shooting them the signature Samuel Foster smile.

As you cleared the entrance, you cocked an eyebrow at him. “Are you serious?”

He shrugged. “What?”

A protest had already started form, but you didn’t get a chance to finish your sentence. The door to Hux’s office opened and a whirlwind of black stormed through--causing the officers in the center to shrink in their seats.

Hux wasn’t far behind, shouting out through his door, “Snoke will give you the same answer I did, Ren!”

“Then let him,” Kylo Ren replied, halfway through the room before he spotted you. All at once, the blood in your arteries evaporated into space dust.

“Foster!” Hux said, having spotted his favorite person in the room, as well. “Report.”

“Yes, sir!” Sam said. “I’ll be just a second,” he said, winking at you. “Don’t let Commander Ren give you too much of a hard time.”

Oh, no. Why couldn’t you go with him? “Let me come with you!” you said, hoping the smile on your face didn’t look as fake as it felt.

“Come, Foster--alone,” Hux said, as if he’d heard you. Ginger bastard.

Sam crossed the room to the General’s office, the door zooming shut behind him. Like a game of Musical Men, now Kylo was closing in on you--you couldn’t tell if he had been using the Force, or if you had transformed into a statue on your own.

“In my memory, we’ve discussed this,” he said. You could feel the glare behind his mask.

“Discussed what, Commander?” you replied, cocking your head so as to feign ignorance.

“Your relationship with your supervisor.”

Well, he was asking for this one. “Which supervisor would that be, sir?”

His hands curled into fists, and he glanced at Hux’s office. “Him.”

“Sam?” you said, exaggerating a jaw drop. “Well, sir, I can assure you, there’s nothing inappropriate going on. I would never dream of having an inappropriate relationship with a superior officer.” You paused, narrowing your eyes. “However, I can’t guarantee that the situation won’t change once my probation period is over. Sir.”

It was nearly tangible--the boiling cauldron of his anger, bubbles frothing at the lips of the pot. When you were sure he was about to spill over into the fire, something removed the flame, and he cooled. “I’m sure.”

Hux’s door opened, and Sam strutted out, as jovial as ever. His face fell as he noticed your eyes, the desperation in them, and he strode over. Kylo Ren was staring at him. Meanwhile, your dinner was burbling in your throat, ready to spew onto the both of them.

“Commander Ren,” Sam said, bowing his head in respect. Dammit, why did he have to be so charming? “To what do we owe your presence?”

“My shuttle is without an engineer,” he said, as if that explained everything ever.

Sam shrugged, nodding. “Yes, sir, that is true.”

Kylo Ren turned to you. “Why is that?”

You opened your mouth to answer--but instead of words, the only noise you could make was a restrained squeak as you doubled over, gripping your knees. From between your legs, a divine pleasure was growing, emanating from your clit, which was being massaged by what anyone else would define as thin air. You gasped. That fucking dickhead.

“Excuse her, sir,” Sam said, draping your arm over his shoulders. “She’s feeling ill, today. We should get going.”

“Perhaps you should,” Kylo Ren replied, his amusement imperceptible to anyone but you. Like a human flourish, he was gone, and the Force-hold on your clit disseminated.

“Fuuuuck,” you groaned. Did you even have the energy to rub one out?

“Let’s go, Stubborn Sally,” said Sam, assisting your hobble down the hall.

You huffed. “Your nicknames are too much today, dude.”

Once at your quarters, Sam kissed you goodnight (on the cheek) and you made good on your earlier idea. A cold shower was exactly what you needed. Masturbating over Kylo Ren was not an option--you couldn’t let him have that power over you anymore. Even still, as you padded from the bathroom to your bed, the ghosts of your bodies--sweating, moaning, moving--blinked in front of your eyes. When would that stop?

Limping into work the next day, you saw Guerrin waiting with Sam at the diagnostic terminal, and your heart petrified. Guerrin was never seen in your area. The possibilities were unpleasant snippets of thought--were you fired? Was Sam fired? Was there another accident? Did the Command Shuttle blow up? No, no--you would never be that lucky. You joined the two men, arms folded over your chest as your eyes darted between them. Nobody spoke for a few agonizing seconds.

The angles of Guerrin’s face were drawn tighter than usual. “Now that both of you are here,” he said, “I’m able to make it known: I’m being moved from Starkiller onto the Finalizer.”

“What?” Sam said. “Just for a temporary assignment, right?”

“No,” Guerrin said, tone dull. “It’s permanent. Meaning that I need to appoint someone to fill my vacancy.”

“Oh,” you said. You were having trouble hearing him over the heartbeat in your ears.

“Foster,” he said, face betraying no emotion, “I’m appointing you as Chief Engineer.”

Sam’s face was blank. He was dumbfounded. “Oh, wow, Mr. Guerrin,” Sam said, “that’s… that’s an amazing honor. Thank you, so much, sir.”

Guerrin turned to you now. “That means your probation period is over. You’re back to the Command Shuttle.”

Fragments of your vision were collapsing. Chief Engineer. Promotion. Command Shuttle. Permanent assignment. Time a waste. All a waste. Worthless work. Worthless you. Worthless. The faces of Guerrin and Sam swirled together, spinning in perpetual motion, as you remembered your conversation with Kylo Ren. Once my probation period is over. I’m sure. My shuttle is without an engineer. Once my probation period is over. Over. Over.

That bastard.

Chapter Text

It had taken a week after Sam’s promotion for you to find the strength to work without crying in your room beforehand. It wasn’t only the fact that being chosen over you was concrete evidence of how much more skilled and effective he was, and essentially cemented your failure as an engineer for the next forever. But on top of that, the reminder of why any of this was happening was back under your jurisdiction. You fantasized about sabotaging the damn shuttle with some type of self-destruct sequence, taking Kylo Ren and whoever else with it.

But murder wasn’t really your style--and you figured that failing to secure the safety of the Commander wouldn’t exactly be a boon to your career.

Chief Engineer Samuel Foster was scrolling through your diagnostic terminal when you arrived at your assignment, his ass looking good, even in the new uniform, the jerk. Chewing on your cheeks, you tapped him on the shoulder.

“May I help you, sir?” you asked.

Sam faced you, rolling his eyes. “How many times do I have to tell you to stop calling me ‘sir’?”

“Well,” you said, “when they assign someone to the open second engineer position, I can’t look like your favorite, can I?” Part of you was teasing. The other part was bitter he hadn’t kissed you once since his promotion.

He crossed his arms, raising an eyebrow. “I get it, okay. And I’m sorry. Just… give me some time to figure this out. I promise that…” His voice dropped to a whisper. “I promise that my feelings haven’t changed. Okay?”

You nodded, biting your lip. “Yes, sir.”

“Dork,” he said, nudging you. “Hey--you know that the Command Shuttle’s leaving out for the Finalizer today, right? You need to be on board in two hours.”

Prickles of panic were sticking your fingertips. “Uh, what? No, I didn’t know. When was someone going to tell me this?” The last time you had been alone in the Command Shuttle with Kylo Ren--well…

“Oh, General Hux told me during our meeting last night,” he said, brow furrowed. “I... guess he just figured I’d deliver the message. Sorry.”

If he mentioned Hux one more time this week, you were going to flick him in the forehead. “Didn’t even think they’d let me back on the Finalizer after my accident.”

Sam averted your gaze, rubbing the back of his head. “Yeah, well… you won’t be working on any ships there. Just the Command Shuttle.”

“Are you kidding me?” you said. As if it wasn’t embarrassing enough to return to the scene of the worst moment of your life--you had to pretend as if you weren’t there to babysit the shuttle’s well-being.

“Hey, I mean…” His forehead wrinkled in thought. “It should be a great honor to be entrusted with the Commander’s mode of transportation.”

You snorted. “It should be, but everyone knows I’m a glorified clean-up droid. It’s humiliating.”

Sam was silent, wringing his hands together. He seemed torn between being your boss and being your friend-type-person-whatever.

“Anyway, do you know how long I’ll be there?” you asked, pushing him aside to check your work orders. Of course, it was still empty. Sam was trying to take care of everything while they looked for his replacement--he was going to pass out, one of these days.

He shook his head. “Not sure. Hux is already there, and he said it could be a week, could be a month.”

Welp. There it was. You pulled your finger back and plunked him hard in the center of his brow.

“Ow!” he said, wincing.

“You asked for it.”

He pouted. You’d asked him to shut up about Hux about 500 times already. “Yeah, yeah.”

You shrugged, hiding a smirk. “Let’s get to work, shall we?”

“Ha-ha,” Sam replied. “I looked over the shuttle for you already, but you know it way better than I do--best that you get started on the cross-checks now.” His eyes met yours. They were an even brighter blue than you remembered. “Have a safe trip. I’ll miss you.”

A hard lump stuck in your throat, and you swallowed. “H-hey. I’ll be fine. Okay, Chief?”

“Yes, ma’am,” he said, winking.

The Command Shuttle looked pristine--you were glad you’d been able to coordinate the repairs before your probation--and a swell of pride nearly caught you. Almost disgusted with yourself, you shrugged it off. Being positive was Sam’s thing. Of course he wanted you to look on the bright side of your assignment. But the envious monster in the back of your brain grumbled that if Sam had been the shuttle’s engineer, you’d be the one with the promotion right now.

Then again, the entire reason Sam had been up for a promotion to begin with was Kylo Ren’s doing. Lamenting an unknown outcome was a waste of your time.

You ran through the cross-checks and rewarded yourself with a break. Feeling sneaky, you lowered yourself into one of the pilot seats, gazing out of the cockpit. The blood-red tint on the glass didn’t change the view from the inside much--you wondered how it affected flying. Maybe you could be up front. Would Kylo be the only other one on board? The thought of sitting next to him in an enclosed space aggravated the acid in your stomach.

Shaking your nerves into submission, you returned to the terminal and indicated that the shuttle was ready for take-off. It wasn’t long after that Kylo Ren arrived, bringing a sudden silence across the bay with him. You peeked over your shoulder at him, the beating of your heart in time with his footsteps. He flew past you, offering you not a glance nor a word as he stomped up the ramp to the ship. Holding your breath, you prayed for another soldier to board behind him--but minutes passed, and no one followed.

“Guess we’re leaving,” you muttered, closing the terminal and following him onto the ship.

You rehearsed your new mantra as you entered the passenger quarters, sequestering yourself in a distant corner as the ramp rose into place. It wouldn’t be a challenge. You hated him, after all. No part of him inside any part of you for one month. No part of him inside any part of you for one month. No part--

“I trust you’ll stay in your seat this time,” said Kylo Ren, his synthesized voice arresting, even from the cockpit.

“As long as you stay in yours,” you replied, nibbling the inside of your lip.

“You wound me,” he said. The clicking and beeping of the navigation panels seemed louder than usual.

You stared into the wall, ignoring the intermittent jiggling of your leg. “Aren’t you supposed to have a chauffeur, or something?”

He stood and faced you. “Usually. But something distracted me from making arrangements.”

Bile burned your palate. “I get it. You have to ruin my life because I’m rude or whatever. When are you going to get over it, dude?” you asked, crossing your arms and turning away from him.

Silence. You heard the shuffling as he returned to the cockpit, and the thundering drone of the thrusters warming up. The shuttle would be moving into position soon. A brief flicker of disappointment passed through your mind. How was it that you were stuck with this ship but couldn’t even witness a flight?

“Sit,” came Kylo Ren’s voice, ending your pity party.

“I am,” you replied, frowning.

“Up here.”

Sit in the cockpit? With him? “No, thanks,” you said. “I’m good on that one.”

“I can make you sit if I want,” he said.

You sucked your teeth. “Fine.”

The floor of the ship vibrated under you as you trudged to the other seat in the cockpit. Kylo Ren adjusted something on the control panel, and the ship shuddered, rising from the ground and rotating toward the exit of the docking bay. The thrumming roar of the engines rumbled in your chest, ears flinching at the trill of the wings as they extended. The ship heaved for the splittest of seconds, then careened through the open hatch. Sitting in the cockpit, there was no blowback--just the white steel of the base rushing past the window, the sky melting from gray to blue to yellow to black, and then you felt it--you had left Starkiller, your vision consumed by an endless expanse of stars.

“Holy shit,” you said, leaping out of your chair and taking in the view at the center of the console. Red tinged your cheeks when you realized Kylo Ren was staring at you.

“You need to control your thoughts,” he said.

Your eyes were glued to the window in awe. “You heard me,” was all you could say.

“I hear you all the time,” he said. There wasn’t anger in his voice--but it wasn’t gentle, either.

“I told you that I don’t know why,” you said, crossing your arms. This conversation was growing dull. “I don’t know anything about the Force, or whatever.”

He tilted his head. “You’re right. You don’t,” he said. “I’ve felt it. You just... project. You’re loud. Almost impossible to block out.”

You shrugged, sneering. “Why do I have to control my thoughts for your sake? You’ve done nothing but make me miserable.”

Kylo Ren said nothing.

Taking advantage of his silence, words spewed out, as if they’d been behind a dam. “In fact, I hope you are fucking miserable. You’ve taken everything good from my life.”

“Enough,” he said.

“Can’t have a job I like--you trash all of my work. Can’t have a moment of success--you’ll steal it away from me.”

He stood, lurching toward you. “Enough.”

“Can’t even have a fucking boyfriend, because apparently, I’m beholden to a man who uses me like some toy and--”

“Enough!” he said. His hand shot out, accompanied by a crushing grip around your neck. “You have an awful habit of disrespecting your superiors.”

Words blurted out in bursts as you strained against the Force. “My superiors--have an awful habit--of treating me--like--like shit!”

He loosened his hold and stepped close, cocking his head to the side. His body flattened you along the control panel. “Really?” he said. “And here I thought I heard you thinking about how hard I--how did you put it--fucked you last week.”

You whined, squeezing your thighs at the memory. “Why do you do this to me?” you asked.

“I could ask you the same question,” he replied, and pressed into you, knocking you onto the console.

“Shit,” you said, making sure you hadn’t sat on any important buttons.You leered at him, hands wrapping around the edge of the dash. “What--” You gulped as his body brushed yours. “What do you want?”

Kylo Ren drew a line down the outside of your thigh. “You.” He stopped at your knee, and then pushed it to the side. “Screaming my name.” His hand slid up toward your center as he slipped in between your legs. “Begging for me to let you cum.”

You shivered, biting your lip. In desperation, you were shoving thoughts of Sam to the forefront of your brain, hoping you’d be able to douse your surging desire. You didn’t want Kylo Ren. You didn’t want Kylo Ren.

A snicker was smothered as he reached up, activated the locks, and removed his helmet. He tossed it on the floor and faced you, eyes blazing. “Don’t you?” he said, grabbing your thigh.

“Fuck,” you whispered, studying his face. He was even more beautiful than your memories. Where had your mantra gone?

He plucked off his gloves and caressed the side of your face, thumb tilting your chin to face him, leaning closer--so close, his breath tickled your nose. “What mantra?”

Gods, you hated that. “Hey, aren’t we gonna be landing soon?” you replied, twisting to look out the window.

With a snap of his wrist, he swiveled your head back. “Not necessarily,” he said, and, without taking his eyes from yours, reached to fiddle with the controls. “Auto-pilot’s off. No destination.” His gaze dipped over your figure before returning to meet your eyes. “Tell me what this mantra is.”

Blood flooded your face. Either you’d say it, or he’d hear it anyway. “Uh,” you said, rapping your fingers on the durasteel. “No--no part of you inside any part of me. For one month.”

Kylo Ren smirked, his lips inches from yours. “Then I won’t go inside of you.”

You clenched as you remembered what his lips felt like. As long as his tongue didn’t go in your mouth… “I mean, if you don’t break that rule, then... that’s… that’s probably... okay.”

“Of course,” he said, hand drifting from your face to thread through your hair.

There was only a second of breath before his lips were on yours, soft and pliant, kissing you with an urgent, tender need. You were a candle, his body a flame, melting you from the center, heat coursing through you, washing to your toes. He pulled you closer, kiss deepening--but his tongue never passed over yours. Hungry for him, your legs wound around him and jerked him closer, and you decided--you never made a rule about parts of you going inside him--to thrust your tongue into his mouth.

He growled, swirling his tongue around yours, and you were emboldened, weaving your fingers through his thick, dark hair as you explored his mouth. His other hand rubbed your thigh, tracing your curves until it met the top of your uniform, where long fingers worked on separating the buttons of your shirt. You moaned into him, shifting away to glide across his lower lip--but he was unwilling to part with you, biting your lip and pulling you to him.

You drew a sharp inhale through your nostrils and buried your fingers into his mane, grinding against him, aching to feel his desire for you. A whimper was muffled through your kiss as he threw his hips into yours, his length grazing your slit. He grunted--he had finished with your shirt and was tugging impatiently at your bra, determined to expose your tits.

You wrenched away from him, gasping for air, mouth buzzing. “Let me help,” you said.

Before you could make a move, Kylo had grown annoyed, both hands wresting your tits from their bondage, the chilly air of the shuttle stiffening your nipples. His eyes were wild, possessed, and he lowered you towards the console to get a better angle, sucking one of the buds into his mouth, teeth scraping it, tongue dancing over the tip.

“Ah!” you cried, jabbing your nails into his scalp. The attention he was lavishing on you inspired a deep pang of lust at the apex of your thighs.

Kylo moved to envelop your other nipple with his warm, wet lips, one hand invading your hair, the other pawing at your other breast, the pad of his thumb teasing the puckered, pink skin. His suckling had become lewd, saliva gleaming around his mouth, a stifled moan escaping him as you brought him closer.

The hand at your breast moved down to your hip, fingers crawling toward the inside of your legs, daring to come within inches of your sex. Unable to suppress your need, you were panting, wiggling closer to his touch.

He released your nipple and smirked, brown eyes molten with an undeniable craving. “You said nothing of me going inside anything of you.”

You let out a frustrated sigh, head falling back in his hand. “I know,” you said, grumbling. “I know.”

“I’m holding you to it,” he said, flicking your nipple with his tongue.

“F-fine,” you said, ruffling his hair, admiring the way the soft waves fell around his face.

He gazed up at you, irises smoldering, and before you could protest, he pushed your back against the console, tearing away your shoes, hoisting up your hips and ripping your pants down past your ankles. At some point during this event, oxygen had forgotten to enter your lungs--your chest heaving with rapid breath, your heart beating in your fingertips. Kylo Ren slipped the waist of your pants past your feet, leaving you entirely naked from the waist down. You began trembling with anxiety.

“Up,” he said, hand pressing your back into a sitting position. He regarded your quivering chin. “You’re nervous.”

You nodded shakily. “Yeah, just, uh… been awhile since… y’know.” To be honest--you couldn’t remember the last time someone ate you out.

After surveying your figure, he met your stare again, ghosting the tips of his fingers over the swollen lips of your sex. He smirked as a choked gasp escaped you. “It’ll be worth the wait,” he said, and sunk between your legs, eyes drilling rings of fire into your brain.

“Fuck,” you said, teeth chattering.

His hands rested on the contour of your hips. “Shh,” he said, planting slow kisses across the inside of your thighs.

You squeaked, twitching from a combination of dread and anticipation. To steady you, he dug his fingers into the side of your legs, pulling them further apart, the warm cavern of his mouth growing closer and closer to your center. A moan caught in your throat, and his tongue, a pink triangle, drew a slick line from one side of your thighs to the other, just barely skimming your folds.

“Fuck!” you said again, shielding your face with your hands. Your heart was thumping in your chest.

Kylo Ren pulled your hands down, shaking his head. “Look at me,” he said. It was an order--not a request.

You swallowed the stress that had been snowballing since he had stripped you. “Ye-yes sir,” you replied.

His eyes were hot coals, burning your paper skin. “Good girl,” he said, and flattened his tongue, licking a wide band over your cunt.

Squealing, you clamped on your lip, wanting to bottle any noise. Kylo Ren smirked against you, two fingers pulling you apart so his tongue could slide down the crevice of your pussy. Your hands went into his hair, hanging onto him as he traced a circle around your sex, careful to ignore the throbbing nub of your clit. The longing for him was furious, and you tried with all of your wavering strength to force his face into you--but he was stronger, continuing to drag his tongue along the length of your cunt, conveniently dodging your clit.

“Asshole,” you said.

He laughed, and, perhaps deciding you had enough, wrapped his lips around your aching bud, humming as he began to suck on it.

“Holy--” Your eyes squeezed shut in bliss.

Kylo growled, and he reached up and grabbed your chin, pulling away from you. “I told you to look at me,” he said.

You whinged, pouting. “Fine!”

He raised an eyebrow. “What was that?”

“Oh,” you said, finding your sanity. “Yes. Yes, sir.”

“Better,” he replied, and returned to your clit, drawing it into his mouth and rolling his tongue around it.

A deep, quiet moan left you, your fingers finding a home in his scalp as he nuzzled you, sucking your clit, coating his chin with your juices. He groaned against you, sending vibrations through your cunt, pleasure rocketing in your veins. Your hips were rocking into his face, wanting so badly for something to be inside of you. You needed him inside of you.

His tongue teased your entrance, and you yelped, trembling. “I said that I’d hold you to it.”

“Fuck!” you groaned, tears of frustration welling.

Kylo Ren licked his lips, cleaning your wetness from his face. “Lie back,” he said.

“What?” you said, but he had already raised his hand and Force-pinned you to the console. Your head craned back, looking through the windows at the twinkling stars.

“Don’t move,” he said.

“Yes, sir,” you replied, silencing your shaking by focusing on the balloon of your chest inflating and deflating.

You heard rustling, felt the warmth of his hand pulling your lips apart, and then cold, ice-cold, something metal breaching the slick wetness of your entrance. The first reaction you wanted to have was to jump back, avoid it--but you obeyed his order, a distant portion of you already knowing what the object was.

“Good girl,” he said, and twisted it, its ridges stretching you open.

“Shit,” you hissed, walls clenching around its girth.

He guided it deep inside of you, then stopped, dragging it back. You moaned, wanting to squirm, but you held steady, and he pushed it back in, letting you squeeze and jerk as it hollowed you out. More noises--guttural, throaty ones--attempted to flee your chest, but you snuffed them, listening to the sound of his lightsaber disappearing in and out of you--and--something else…

A moan--not from you--from him. That’s what it was. You couldn’t see it, but you knew it: Kylo Ren was stroking himself as he fucked you with his saber. The thought alone set a flare in your abdomen, and you moaned too, pulsing around the metal rod as it sped up inside of you.

“Fuck,” you said, “Kylo!”

“Look at you,” he said, voice torn at the edges, “begging to be ruined by my weapon. Filthy bitch.”

The saber pumped into you, splitting you open, wracking you with an intoxicating mix of pain and pleasure. Kylo’s breath picked up, and yours followed, wanton noises flowing from you. The urge to touch your clit was strong, but the fear of activating the saber kept you still. He grunted, hammering the base of his weapon against your cervix, and you cried out, eyes shutting tight.

“Kylo--fuck--please let me cum!” you said, your cunt going numb from the punishment.

He moaned--primal, shameless--covering your belly with the warm load of his seed. His saber slipped out of you and he was between your legs again, sucking down your juices, lapping the beads of his cum that dripped down your pussy, ravaging your aching clit. Ecstasy swallowed you like a black hole, your orgasm slamming into you, and you screamed, back arching towards the ceiling of the ship, head back so far that you couldn’t tell if the stars you saw were in front of your eyes or behind them.

As small waves of pleasure resonated through you, Kylo slid his tongue up the front of your cunt, over your mound, tongue licking the globs of his cum from your stomach.

Gasping, you grabbed his head, your grasp of language still tenuous. “Let… let me do…” you said. You wanted to taste him.

Kylo Ren shook his head. “Remember,” he said. “No part of me.” He gulped down the last of his semen, wiping his face with the back of his hand. He licked his lips one more time before returning to the pilot’s seat--no doubt setting you back on course for the Finalizer--sterilizing his saber with a part of his cloak. At some point, he’d already made himself decent.

If you weren’t sure you were on a ship, you could have sworn that you’d been flung into deep space. A satisfied sigh exited your nose as you eased yourself from the console, grabbing your trousers and shoes and pulling them on. This was the first time you’d been around Kylo Ren for more than 5 seconds post-orgasm. You collapsed into the other chair, shoving your tits back in your bra and buttoning up your top, staring at him.

It was only a matter of time before the glow of euphoria wore off and you’d start feeling like shit--back to being a plaything for Kylo Ren, the man who, when not making you cum in space, seemed to sabotage every other aspect of your life. What had you done to deserve this? When you landed, he’d get to go do whatever he wanted, sleep in his quarters, his bed, abuse his power. Meanwhile, you’d sleep in your Finalizer cot, waiting on his ship like a maid. Perhaps it was from the fragility brought on by your climax, but you cracked, weeping, tears streaming down your red, burning cheeks.

Kylo Ren turned to look at you, face blank. You knew he could hear your thoughts--but he didn’t care, so why should you? You sniffled, turning your back to him.

It was a few short moments before you were docking at the Finalizer, and Kylo Ren had replaced the helmet on his head. As you landed, he stood by the hatch of the ramp, unfazed by the shriek of steam being jettisoned from the exhaust pipes.

“Tomorrow night,” he said.

“What?” you asked.

“Come to my quarters,” he replied.

“Your what--”

There were no other words. He had already disappeared down the ramp.

Chapter Text

You didn’t particularly want to be seen at the docking bay where you earned your probation--but as the Command Shuttle’s Official Janitor, routine maintenance following a flight was something you couldn’t put off. Not to mention the control panel that had yet to be cleaned following the escapade the day before--you shivered at the memory.

Tonight was the night Kylo Ren had invited--could you call it that?--you to his quarters. Your brain was a coin, flipping between anticipation and dread. You weren’t sure if the day was dragging or sprinting past you. You weren’t even sure if you were going to go. If you let your vagina make the decision, you could wave farewell to the thought of committing to Sam when you returned to Starkiller.

Of course, there was the tiny issue of Kylo Ren tearing your pussy apart with his lightsaber. Did that count? Technically, it hadn’t been a part of him. Yet, there was something dishonest in the thought that you could spend your entire stint on the Finalizer getting your cunt reamed out by a fucking laser sword without an obligation to disclose it.

Shame was a black cloud above your head as you snuck onto the Command Shuttle. You’d picked a time where there were only a few workers at the bay--it was imperative that you avoid as much eye-contact with as many people as possible. Your awkward, wordless encounter with Jakar Saul earlier told you enough about the public opinion of you on board.

The only relief was the knowledge that the post-flight maintenance wouldn’t take too long, and then you could return to your cot and wallow in ambivalence regarding your plans for the night.

You were engrossed in your fifth wipe-down of the control panel when you heard footsteps floating up the ramp. A brief flicker of fear for Kylo Ren--but no, the steps were far too light, too timid.

“Hello? Yoohoo, anyone here?” A voice--female.

Not wanting to start a discussion on why you were scrubbing the crevices of every button on the center console, you stood, grabbing your datapad and staring at its blank screen as if it contained very important information. “Yes ma’am,” you replied.

The woman emerged from the ramp and poked her head into the cockpit. She was a tiny thing, long blonde braided up behind her. “No need to ma’am me!” she said, sticking out her hand. “Minks Loren. Wanted to meet woman behind the shuttle!”

Minks was far too cheerful to be making the acquaintance of the Official Janitor. Sweeping over her with a frown, you offered your name and your hand, and she wrung it out with her own. “Ow--ow,” you said.

“Oh!” she said. “Sorry. I’ve been told I have an aggressive handshake.” Her smile took up half of her face.

“‘Aggressive’ isn’t quite the word,” you said, cocking an eyebrow. The expectation of mockery locked your jaw. “May I help you?”

“Well, I don’t know, not really,” she said, glancing around the cockpit. “It’s just nice to see another lady engineer, ya know? Not that many of us!” Minks beamed at you again.

Briefly, you wondered why you were surrounded by perky, blonde optimists. Between her and Sam, Kylo Ren would be a welcome break. “You’re right about that,” you replied, keeping the datapad close to your chest. “But I’m not really the ‘gal’ to meet, so to speak.”

Minks spun around, face contorted in horror, as if you’d just murdered her family. “What are you talking about!” she said. “You just graduated not even two years ago and you’re working on the shuttle that belongs to Commander Ren!” Her hands were waving like ribbons as she spoke. “You don’t realize how awesome, how inspiring that is?”

Every organ inside your ribs petrified. The grip you had on your datapad threatened to cleave it half. “That’s enough,” you said, glaring at her. “Get the fuck out.”

“W-what?” she replied, chin smacking the floor. “What did I do?”

“I get it, okay?” you said. “I fucked up really bad. It’s fun to mock me. But you know what, the--”

Minks held up her palms. “Hold on, hold on!” she said. “What… What are you talking about?”

You scowled. “Everyone knows what I did to the Lieutenant’s ship,” you said. “And that I’m basically a babysitter for this thing. I’m a joke.”

She frowned. “Well, I don’t care about that!” she said, crossing her arms. “You’re still good enough to be trusted with it! Besides, we all make mistakes.”

“Not mistakes that big,” you replied, turning away. A knot tightened in your throat.

She plopped in one of the chairs--the one you had sat in on your journey over. You felt her eyes studying you. “I think we need to stick together,” she said. “It’s not easy--being surrounded by men, ya know?”

Despite yourself, you sealed your lips over a laugh. She didn’t know the half of it. Sagging into the captain’s chair, you shrugged. “I guess it is nice to talk to another woman.”

Minks’ face lit up like a star. “See! We gotta look out for each other.”

“Wish I had someone doing that when I was here last time,” you said. Maybe Kylo Ren wouldn’t have shoved his dick down your throat. Maybe he wouldn’t have gotten the chance to pull you away from work, either.

“What do you mean?” she asked, leaning forward.

Your gaze darted to the center console, thighs clenching as you imagined how you must have looked--draped over it like a curtain, eyelids fluttering, lightsaber pounding into you. You cleared the longing from your voice. “Boy problems. You know.”

“Ah!” she said. “I do know what you mean! What happened?” There was a naive earnesty in her brown eyes.

The real story was that Kylo Ren had taken you into a communications room and tried to fuck you. Something told you that the chances of her believing that--or that he jizzed all over your stomach the day before--were low. Not that you wanted to tell her that, anyway. You considered her face. It was sweet, genuine. Almost trustworthy. Perhaps a half-truth wouldn’t be so bad--after all, you hadn’t been able to talk to anyone about any of it.

“This guy just distracts me all the time. And he distracted me that day,” you said, with a flourish of your hand, as if it had been a simple indiscretion and not his hand on your cunt. “It was my fault.”

Minks frowned, cocking her head to the side. “That sucks. Does he know how these distractions affect your work?”

“Uh, yeah,” you said, feeling color rush your face. “He knows. He’s just an asshole.”

“Oh, no,” she said, her face falling--but not with pity. Maybe with empathy? “You should just cut him off!”

You imagined telling Kylo Ren that you were “cutting him off.” That’s not what I was hearing a few seconds ago. Now let me seduce you onto my cock. Fucking jackass.

“I mean, the thing is, I kind of like it? I don’t know.” You groaned, raking your fingers over your face. “And then there’s this other guy, who I really like, and he likes me, and he’s super sweet--like, the best, really--but I keep getting...” A sigh. You hadn’t meant to spill that much. “Distracted.”

Minks fell back into her chair, examining the ceiling. “Hmm, yes, definitely a conundrum.” She tapped her chin with her fingers, face screwed in contemplation.

You stood, throwing your hands up in the air. “And the asshole guy invited me to his room tonight. He’s never done that. I don’t know what to think.”

She gasped, her mouth an almost perfectly round o-shape. “Ohh, maybe he’s trying to make it up to you! For being a jerk!”

The snort that left your nose burned your throat. “I doubt it.” The twinge of hope pulling at your heart was a little too noticeable for your liking.

“Nope!” she said, standing. “I’ve decided. You need to go! And tell me how it goes!” The joy radiating from her was almost desperate in its intensity.

You figured that she hadn’t had a conversation about anything outside of malfunctioning ion engines and dented durasteel in some time. And now you could blame a possibly horrible decision on someone else. “Okay,” you said, bowing your head in defeat. “I’ll go, I’ll go.”

Minks’ face was so tight with glee, you thought it might snap. “Yes!” she said. “Okay. I gotta get back to work, but I’ll see you later. Okay? Okay.”

“Uh, yeah, definitely,” you said, forcing a nod.

“Ah! Girlfriends!” She smiled and squeezed your arm before skipping off of the ship.

Somehow, her enthusiasm did nothing to quiet your apprehension.

After wrapping up your maintenance checks, you returned to your own quarters, frozen in the center of the room. It was still a few hours before lights-out for first shift--night-time while on board--and anxiety was crushing your chest. Should you shower? Do something with your hair? Wear something to sleep in? Would he want to have sex? Yell at you?

“Ugh!” you said, slumping onto your cot. It’s not like you were going on a first date. “Whatever.”

He had just told you to show up. So that’s all you were going to do. He didn’t deserve you putting special time or attention into your appearance. Not when he was stripping you out of your work clothes half the time, anyway.

As the clock hit lights-out, you swallowed the biggest breath you could gather and blew it out in a rippling sigh. You imagined your spine was made of durasteel as you marched out into the hallway, realizing your destination was unknown. There must have been someone who knew where Kylo Ren stayed. But it wasn’t a question you could just ask--or maybe it was.

You spotted a sanitation worker in the hall, and decided to bet on your hunch, rushing into him as if the airlocks had burst open and there were minutes to live.

“Excuse me! Excuse me!” you said, gripping his skinny shoulders. His eyebrows were rising to meet his scalp as he fossilized under your fingers. “I need to know where Commander Ren stays. It’s a Command Shuttle emergency!”

“Uh, uh,” he choked. “Well, I don’t know--”

“Emergency!” you said, shaking him.

He nodded, gulping. “Yes, ma’am, he stays on the bridge level. Near the bow. One of the last rooms in the--”

“Thank you!” you said, having already released him as you began a breathless sprint.

The moment you vanished from the worker’s line of sight, you collapsed into a wall, chest heaving. You cursed yourself. Good evening, Commander Ren, oh, the sweat? Yes, I just couldn’t wait to get your room, I guess. Wishing you could slap yourself, you wiped your face down and resumed your journey. Maybe by the time you arrived, you’d look as casual as ever.

Your room--well, was it a room, really--had been relegated to the belly of the ship, a collection of afterthoughts for any visiting officers. Kylo Ren’s room might as well have been light years from you--you hoped that he hadn’t already fallen asleep by the time you made it.

It had been about two minutes since you’d arrived at his door, your arm hair bristling at your sleeves, the acid in your stomach sloshing angrily against your esophagus. You were paralyzed. Were you supposed to knock? Press one of the buttons at the frame of the hatch? Sighing, you wiped your palms on the fabric of your pants, reaching toward the door, hands consumed with tremors. But before you could make contact with any aspect of the entrance, the hatch flew open, and you yelped, jumping back.

“Shit,” you whispered.

No one was standing there. You gnawed the inside of your lips, stepping inside, and as you cleared the threshold, the breeze of the hatch shutting behind you brushed your back. His quarters were massive--you didn’t know these things could come equipped with more than a single, scant room. Heartbeat pulsing in your ears, you took another step, investigating for any signs of life. Most of the lights were off.

“Um, hello? Ky--Comman--anyone?” What were you supposed to call him in private?

He stepped through an open archway, mask off, dressed in his black underclothes--which still failed to show a single inch of skin outside of his hands and feet. Feet--you gawked at them. You’d never thought to consider that Kylo Ren had actual feet underneath all of that leather and armor. The idea was humanizing--and slightly arousing, for some reason. You didn’t even have a thing for feet.

“You came,” he said, regarding you with another indistinguishable emotion.

“Uh, yup,” you replied, still devouring how he looked out of all of his robes, body so lean, strong--nope, nope. Not right now. “So…”

Kylo walked past you and pushed open the door to a bedroom--clean, monochromatic. “It’s not right you sleep in a cot,” he said.

“Oh,” you said, peering into the space, the throbbing of your heart almost painful. What?

“Sleep in my spare room.” He nodded into it, his words more of a command than an offer. His gaze probed you, searching for your reaction.

“Um, okay,” you said, creeping by him, carrying the weight of his stare on your back. You stopped at the bed and crossed your arms, peeking over at him. Did he just expect you to go to sleep while he watched you?

“You’re a better engineer than he is,” Kylo said bluntly, as if it was the most natural thing that could have come out of his mouth.

You blinked, sinking down onto the bed, unable to grasp his statement. “Huh?”

“Him. The one on Starkiller.” His face was stone.

Was he saying you were more skilled than Sam? “I… What?” Your mind was spinning. That just wasn’t true.

Kylo Ren’s gaze flitted to the far wall. “No other engineer’s ever been so capable at working with the Command Shuttle.”

Did he think he was complimenting you? You glared at him, heat flushing your neck. “Why’d you ruin it for me, then?”

He was silent, eyebrows knitting together as he sorted his thoughts. Brown eyes locked with yours, and he spoke. “Because you disrespected me.”

“Oh, please,” you said, rolling your eyes. “As I’m the only one who’s ever done that.”

“You are.”

“I’m definitely not,” you said, remembering Hux’s own silent admission.

“You’re the only one I have to hear from in my head,” he said, taking a step toward you.

You shook your head, scooching away from him. The mattress was soft under your shifting butt. “Why not kill me if disrespecting you is such a violation?”

He tilted his head, like he’d been confused by what you’d just asked. “I have no interest in killing you,” he said.

“Yes,” you said, “fine, but why?”

“I want you,” he said, scanning your figure. He met your gaze again. “I think about you.”

Your lips curled in a snarl as you stood, flailing your arms. “Yes, but why not just kill me! What did I do?” The volume of your voice rose against your best interests.

Kylo blinked slowly, glancing at the floor. Something was rolling through his head. “I don’t know.”

“Are you serious?” you said, advancing on him. “You have to ruin my life over an I don’t know?”

He was a statue, eyes narrowing. “Enough,” he said, and pivoted, returning to his room.

“No,” you said, trailing his heels. “You need to--”

“Goodnight,” he said, and his door clamped shut in your face.

“Dammit!” you said, beating the metal with your fist. “Asshole!” Exasperation poured out of you. This was a futile venture.

Fuming, you stomped back, locking your own door behind you. You ripped off your clothes and grumbled, settling into the bed in the crankiest fashion you could muster. Sure, you’d sleep in his really nice, really comfortable spare room--but you didn’t have to like it (even if you did like it). You shut your eyes, letting your body unravel into the pillowy heaven underneath you. The twinge of hope you’d felt earlier was pulsing with a new life.

Chapter Text

There was something strange about waking up in a bed that wasn’t yours. Not that you’d call the cot yours, and you didn’t have a strong bond to the room on Starkiller, either. Maybe it was the knowledge that Kylo Ren was down the hall, that these were his quarters. If you’d been asked to predict your future, you would have never considered that one of the most powerful men in the galaxy would be not only fucking you, but offering you a bed.

As you rolled up from the mattress, you yawned, rubbing your eyes. The other curiosity was that you’d had an interaction with him where he hadn’t so much as touched you. And that he’d complimented your skill as an engineer. As if his sexual interest (obsession?) wasn’t confusing enough.

You shimmied into your clothes, vowing to change later after you left your post. Sighing, you tidied up the bed before sneaking out of his quarters, not knowing if Kylo Ren was awake or not--and not wanting to disturb him if he wasn’t.

Between the extended walk to the docking bay and your lack of alarm, you weren’t surprised when you arrived 40 minutes late to your post. What did surprise you was Jakar Saul standing around your terminal, casting a search around the bay. Gulping, you met his gaze and nodded in acknowledgement, crossing your arms as you stopped to meet him.

“Uh, what can I help you with, sir?” you asked, scrutinizing your toes.

Jakar sighed. “You don’t need to call me ‘sir’,” he said.

“Could’ve fooled me, the way you barely spared me a word, yesterday,” you replied. Your cheeks tingled with indignity.

“I didn’t want anyone to think you were about to get special treatment,” he said. “Especially with--”

“With the accident, I know,” you said, shooting him a glare. At least you didn’t have to hear about it every day on Starkiller. “I got it. Loud and clear. I fucked up. It’s known. I know it. You know it. Everyone knows it. Understood. Copy on--”

“Okay, okay, enough,” he said, massaging his temples. “Look, I know you don’t have any responsibility other than the Command Shuttle, so I can’t really call myself your boss. But you can’t just arrive at the bay forty minutes after your start-time.”

You pursed your lips, nudging him to the side as you logged into your terminal. After a few taps, you pulled up your singular work-order: engine check. “I have one thing to do today,” you said, brows drawn low. “You’re lucky I showed up at all.”

Jakar leaned against the wall, mouth a thin line. His eyes drifted between you, the terminal, and the shuttle. “They haven’t been letting you do anything,” he said.

“Yeah, no shit,” you said, rolling your eyes. “I’m surprised you didn’t figure it out after Guerrin was relocated here.”

“He doesn’t work on this bay,” Jakar said. “His post is working on the thrusters for the ship itself. Age and experience count for something, I guess.”

“Lucky,” you said. Star Destroyers were so well-built that any position made for maintaining their engines was a pass to nap the shift away. “But, yeah. He made my coworker the Chief Engineer. So. Y’know. I’m just doing the shuttle thing.”

Jakar grimaced. “That’s a damn shame,” he said. “Can’t think of a better--”

A tiny voice called your name. You both turned to identify the source, and saw Minks, grinning as she made her way over to the diagnostic terminal. Apparently, your post was the place to be today.

“I see you two have met,” Jakar said, voice low. “Loren’s sharp. Needs some guidance, but sharp.”

“Hello, Jakar,” Minks said, as she came up on the two of you. Her hair was bouncing behind her. “You aren’t giving her a hard time, are ya?”

“Not at all, Loren,” he said, grinning at you. “Just catching up.” He looked between the both of you and raised his hands, moving onto the next area. “But, I think my time is up. I leave you both to it.”

“Bye,” you said, relief flickering in your heart. At least Jakar didn’t think you were total garbage. “Hey, Minks.”

“Hey!” she replied, bending forward. She tossed her head over her shoulders, looking for eavesdroppers, and kept her voice soft. “So? Did you?”

You sighed. “I did.”

Her mouth popped open. “And? And?”

Kylo Ren’s eyes--looking for answers, coming up empty--flashed in your mind. “I don’t know.”

She bristled. “You don’t know?”

“No,” you said. You deleted your only work order and cracked your knuckles, moving toward the shuttle. Engine checks took all of five minutes.

“Well, how can you not know?” she asked, matching your stride.

The sound of your footfalls on the ramp sounded a bit louder than you would have liked. You went to the stern of the ship, drudging through the steps of gaining engine access. Minks hovered behind you, tapping her toe.

“He’s normally such a jerk to me,” you said. “Just uses me. But, when I went over last night, he didn’t apologize, but--he told me I was a good engineer? And asked me to sleep over?”

“Did you?”

“Uh,” you said, leaning into the engine. The ion generators were clean. It would run just fine. “No. I just left. Wasn’t interested in being used again.” The end of your sentence was followed by what felt like two rocks squeezing your cranium, ears blocked by a shrill tone. You snapped out of the engine, grasping at your head as you slumped against the hull. “Fuck!”

“What?” Minks said, reaching for you as you batted her away. “What is it?”

Her question was answered by the tromping of boots up the ramp of the Command Shuttle. Still reeling with pain, you sunk to the floor, kneading the sides of your skull. The ringing ended, cut through by the sound of Kylo Ren’s modulated voice calling your surname. You glanced up, catching the wide-open circle of Minks’ mouth as she gawked at him.

“C-commander,” you said, pulling yourself to your feet. “Long time no see, sir.” You were a sucker for dramatic irony.

“I trust you’re able to complete an engine check without serious injury,” he said. Something in his voice was different.

“I try to,” you replied.

“Commander Ren!” Minks said, standing at full attention. “Minks Loren--second engineer. Here assisting with engine checks. Sir.”

Kylo Ren did not respond to her, the visor of his mask trained on you. “Report to me as you did yesterday,” he said.

You blinked. He was asking you over again. “Um, oka--uh, yes. Yes sir.”

In a tornado of black cloth, he was gone down the ramp again. You hadn’t noticed you had been holding your breath until his footsteps became memories.

“Oh my stars!” Minks said, fists trembling with excitement. “That was really Kylo Ren!”

“Sure was,” you replied, sighing and locking up the engine access.

“You must get to see him all the time!”

Heat flushed your cheeks. “Uh, you could say that, yeah.”

“Is he always so--um, well… terse?” she asked, crossing her arms.

You chuckled. “That was him being nice.”

The next hour was spent discussing diagnostic issues with Minks--she’d never seen an engine like the Command Shuttle’s--and then you retired to your room, finally showering and changing your clothing. Kylo Ren had invited you to his quarters. Again. What was your life?

A humming peeper darted inside of your heart as you slunk through the halls of the Finalizer. You wouldn’t mind sleeping in a comfortable bed again, but Kylo Ren’s intentions were appearing more and more suspicious to you. The wad of anxiety that had wedged itself in your throat was bulging into your windpipe, shortening your breath. You preferred it when he came to you--the build-up of anticipation was short-circuiting your brain.

Once again, the doors to his quarters opened with little intervention on your part. And, once again, Kylo Ren was absent from the entrance. The desert in your mouth consumed your tongue before you could call out--being invited the first time was stressful enough. Halfway down the entry hall, no one appeared. You took this as an excuse to slip into the spare bedroom--maybe he didn’t even want anything to do with you. But as you passed through the hatch, you heard him say your name, and ice gripped your feet.

“You’re here,” he said.

Clearing your throat, you turned, swiveling like a droid. “What else would I do?” you asked, meeting his gaze. A miniscule spark lit in your chest as you noted he was dressed in his underclothes again.

“You didn’t have to,” he replied.

A puff of derision left you. “Right, and you’ve always been so accommodating to my disobedience.” You shrugged. “Either I show up, or you’ll make me.”

Kylo Ren said nothing. Looking into his eyes was like staring down a tunnel.

“What do you wa--”

Your sentence went unfinished as Kylo advanced on you, his long legs closing the distance in a blink--another blink, and his lips were on yours, his arms driving you into the wall, your wrists pinned above you despite the hands on your hips. His kiss was hot, desperate, mouth moving to sear marks onto your jaw and neck. You gasped for air, squirming underneath him, looking into his ceiling as he sucked your heartbeat, his fingers growing roots into your hips. You should have known.

As if you’d said it aloud, Kylo Ren pulled away, seeking out your gaze. His brown eyes had been flooded with black desire. “Why do you insist on saying that I’m using you?”

You glared at him. “What else would you call it when you fuck me and forget me?”

He was silent again as he released your hips and wrists, your arms falling lifeless at your sides. Like a ghost, he was gone, his door closing behind him. You were glued to the floor, lips buzzing, with possible minutes passing before you gathered the mindspace to move. Confusion was muddying your thoughts as you flopped onto the bed. That was new.

You stripped out of your clothes--the casual articles you were provided with on the Finalizer weren’t exactly comfortable, anyway--and curled up under the covers, ignoring the echoes of arousal resonating through you. How much more confusing would it be if you sought him out after complaining? You couldn’t deny your longing for him, couldn’t deny that you loved how he fucked you--you just hated how he made you feel after the fact. Unwanted. Unimportant.

Despite that, you found your mind wandering--scenes of gagging on his dick, his hand grasping at your throat, the phantom pressure of him thrusting into your cunt sending a shiver coursing through you. The warmth between your legs was becoming harder to quarantine. You remembered your mantra--but you’d already screwed up, so, you know… might as well wait until you got back to Starkiller to start over your time limit.

Climbing out of the bed, your heart made an instrument of your ribcage. Possessed by either courage or lust, you chose to stay in your underwear, tiptoeing out of your bedroom into the dark hallway. Breath leaked out of you as you sidled up to his door, listening through the hatch. Despite the muffling of the metal, you could hear something beyond it--he was awake.

In the hopes he hadn’t locked it, you pressed the switch next to the door. Your heart leapt when it flew open, the dim light from his room breaking into the hall. Hands shaking, you leaned into the room, and your mouth dropped open in shock.

Kylo Ren was lying on his back, still clothed--except for his cock, which was fully erect, his digits sliding up the underside as he caught your gaze. He said nothing, choosing instead to circle a finger around the head, his eyes hungry, daring you to come closer.

“Oh,” you said. Lava had already begun to flow out from your center through your veins. Steadying yourself, you stepped forward, not lifting your eyes from his.

His chest swelled with air as he trailed the same finger down to the base of his cock, member twitching under his own touch. Your breath hitched, cunt clenching in want, and you drew nearer, swallowing the words and oxygen that had stuck in your throat. The faintest hint of a smirk graced Kylo Ren’s lips, and now two digits were gliding up the underside of his long shaft, passing over the bead of pre-cum at his slit and slicking it around the head. Quakes of desire rattled your bones, and you moved closer still, now at the foot of his bed, focus switching between the black holes of his eyes and his thick, throbbing cock.

“Sit,” he said, and like his puppet, you complied, kneeling at the end of his mattress. “There you go.” His fingers wrapped around the length of his member, stroking it in pace with your labored breathing. You could see him shudder under his own touch, and you choked back a mewl. “You want this?” he asked.

“Yes,” you replied, words passing over your tongue like an unexpected whisper.

“Yes?” he asked, slicking another drop of pre-cum down the shaft of his dick.

You nodded, licking your lips. “Yes, sir,” you said, and went to reach for it, but found your muscles locked, bound by invisible chains.

“Tell me what you want me to do to you,” he said, watching your eyes follow the hand on his cock.

Heat and blood bit at your face. A thousand images projected onto the screen of your mind. “I want you to fuck me,” you said, breathless.

“How do you want me to fuck you?” he said, unable to mask the hunger in his voice. His thumb was teasing the head of his cock.

Your walls throbbed, even despite the Force. “I want you to fuck my throat,” you said. “I… I want you to pound me against a wall.”

Kylo Ren stopped a groan in his throat, pumping his dick faster, hips bucking in response. “Of course you do, little whore,” he murmured. “I can hear you…” He sucked in a breath as the pace of his strokes increased. “You want me to choke you, don’t you?”

A whimper escaped you. “Yes, yes sir,” you said, the ache for him a physical weight on your chest.

You pictured him squeezing your neck as he slammed you against his door, sinking his teeth into the flesh of your shoulder, his cock wrecking your pussy as you screamed his name. Having absorbed your images and cravings, Kylo finally moaned aloud, jerking himself faster. Enjoying the effect your thoughts had, you continued, saliva filling your mouth as you imagined taking his cock to the back of your throat, hollowing out your cheeks, having him hold your head as he plunged into your esophagus.

“Shit,” he hissed, thrusting into his hand. He continued to stare at you through half-lidded eyes. “Dirty little slut.”

Electricity tore through your limbs as you watched him, walls pulsing with hunger, clit eager for his touch. “Sir, please,” you whined, straining at the pressure of the Force. Your wetness was soaking your panties, leaking onto your thighs.

“I don’t think you deserve to cum,” he replied, head lolling onto his mattress. Another groan left him, hand moving faster along the slickened length of his shaft. “This is your punishment.”

“Kylo!” you said, fighting harder at the hold he had on you. “Please!”

“Beg all you want,” he said.

His grip tightened as he rubbed himself, eyes closing as he submitted to his own pleasure. His breath was coming quicker, his lips parted in ecstasy. Pre-cum trickled from his slit. You were helpless, drool dribbling from your mouth, able to only dream of what you wanted him to do with you-- you thought of him stretching you out, leaving you raw, sore, broken, bruises on your body--anything he wanted, as long as he let you cum--

“Yes,” he said, moaning your name, face taut with pleasure. He milked his cock, hand a blur over his shaft. “That’s right…”

Your skin was crawling with lust, tears stinging your eyes. Gods, what you wouldn’t give to fuck this man until you forgot how to walk. You pictured him pounding into you, an orgasm rending you apart, his cum pouring into your cunt until it dripped out of you--

“Fuck!” Kylo Ren growled your name as he came, white ropes of cum shooting from the twitching tip of his dick, hand working him through the end of his climax. He gasped for breath, eyes rolling in his head until he found your gaze. His hand was still on his dick, gently stroking him through the aftershocks. “Clean this up,” he said, and the pressure around you was gone.

Silent, you jumped forward to gather the pools of his cum on your tongue, swallowing them like they would cure starvation. He tasted just as you had remembered--salty, sticky, warm--and though your clit was crying out, you ignored it in fear that he’d take this away from you. As you finished up the spots that had been flung onto his bed and clothes, you moved to his softening cock, moaning as you sucked away the excess seed that had spilled there. He pushed his fingers into your mouth, and you cleaned those, too.

“Good girl,” he said, pulling away and running his hand through your hair. As he replaced his cock in his pants, you gazed at him with big, needy eyes. “Come here.”

Heart pounding, you nodded, crawling up next to him, turning wooden as you laid in his bed. Everything in you still wanted his touch, his mercy--but this was new, unfamiliar territory with Kylo. You were afraid.

The lights bled into darkness, and Kylo dragged the sheets over the both of you, pulling you into his body. It was like you had imagined--strong, warm, solid--and internally, you were freaking out, confused, overjoyed. You wiggled backwards, wanting as much contact with him as possible. His arm looped around you, making you feel tiny, and his breath was hot on your ear.

“I don’t forget you,” he said, burying his face into your neck. “I never forget you.”

You didn’t know how to respond--but it didn’t matter. Within minutes, he had fallen asleep against you, and you soon followed, lulled by the soft rhythm of his chest at your back.

Chapter Text

When you awoke the next morning, Kylo Ren was gone. His bed was a vast expanse of cold black sheets without him in it, and you found yourself curling into a ball as you realized you were alone. Your mind was reeling, almost unable to comprehend the events of the past however-many (8? 12?) hours. Had really you woken up in Kylo Ren’s bed? Had he held you the night before? Had he admitted--no, no, wait--why hadn’t he kicked you out when he left?

You weren’t even sure how you felt about all of it. Sighing, you rolled out of bed like a pillbug, glancing around for the time--but Kylo Ren apparently did not own a clock (that figured--what did a man like him care about time) so that task was quickly abandoned. It wasn’t like you had any work order scheduled for today, anyway. You were just the Command Shuttle’s bitch.

And, after all, you were alone. In Kylo Ren’s room. Your curiosity was a far higher priority.

The room itself was sparse, functional, maintaining the same color scheme as the spare room--even with the exceptions made for him, Kylo Ren spared little thought or love to the aesthetics of his dwellings. You turned to the row of doors at the far wall--as good a place to start as any.

One set of built-in doors led to a storage area piled with black fabric. That was no fun. The next set of doors contained nothing but books, which you almost disregarded, until you recognized that there were at least 6 different languages in the collection--and Basic was the least represented. You cocked an eyebrow--had he read all of these? Nodding to yourself, you closed those doors and moved onto the last set, anticipating another closet. Instead, it was locked. You frowned, and struck it with your fist--and as if on command, the doors parted to reveal a room, well-lit with high ceilings.

“Whoa,” you said, and stepped inside, craning your neck to absorb your surroundings.

The room was empty, except for a few tables and chairs, and what appeared to be a misshapen blob. Now that was interesting. You took quiet steps, as if he’d hear you violating his privacy from across the ship. Not that it mattered--he’d gone above and beyond violating yours. As the blob came into focus, you saw it was black, ashy, rough lumps obscuring its former shape. Breath stuck to your lungs as you lifted the edges with your fingertips in hopes of leaving as few prints as possible.

It was a helmet, that was for certain. You examined the melted facade, recognizing something familiar in it, unable to place it through the veil of fire damage. In hopes of gaining better perspective, you thrust it to arm’s length, and then, all at once, you understood, and your breath flew from your chest, helmet crashing onto the ground.

There was no way it was real--yet, beyond a locked door, damaged as it was, it had to be. You’d read about it in school, only seen hologram replications--but you were sure. It only brought up more questions: Why did Kylo Ren have Darth Vader’s helmet?

Fear struck your heart like a knife. This was not something you were supposed to see. You’d definitely fucked up. Swallowing a lump, you snatched the helmet and plopped it onto the table like a hot rock, bolting out of the room and slamming the door behind you. A miasma of dread settled over you as you realized that Kylo Ren could hear almost every thought you had--and you had no idea how you’d avoid thinking about what you’d just found when you saw him.

You needed a shower--you’d calm down, gather yourself, go back to your room, and he’d be none the wiser. After all, you’d only dropped it a little bit.

Kylo Ren’s bathroom was far bigger than any bathroom you’d used in the past several months. Monochromatic, clean, utilitarian--like the rest of his quarters. After fiddling with the controls, you managed to turn on the hot water inside of the standing shower, steam fogging the shiny black tiles. You slipped out of your underwear and under the water, the scalding streams releasing the claws of anxiety from your muscles.

It had only been a few minutes inside the cocoon of heat when you heard it--noise beyond the door, rustling, moving. It was him. He was back. Panic tumbled through the wrinkles of your brain. What if he found out, what if--well, you were already fucking up with the current train of fretting, weren’t you? Remembering his complaint that you had been able to block him in the past, you took a rag of bleach over your mind, aiming to eradicate thoughts like viruses. Whatever you did, you just couldn’t think about--

The door to the bathroom opened, and you yelped, instinctively slapping a cover of skin over your breasts and crotch. This was already working out well for you. Blank. Blank. Nothingness.

Kylo Ren strode over to the shower, a mass of black obfuscated by the wall of clouded glass. Leather pressed at the door, pulling it to the side, uncovering you--wet, trembling. He was still wearing his helmet. Helmet--no, no.

“No what?” he asked. “You’re blank.”

You continued to shrink into the corner. “Uh, I don’t--n-not sure what you’re talking about, really. I mean, maybe I’m just, uh, you know, controlling my thoughts, you did always tell me that you wanted me to, uh, just, c-control them better, so maybe I’m just, y-you know--”

“Enough.” His voice was dark. Empty. “Why are you blocking me? In my own space?”

Blank. Blank. You focused on anything but him, arms and hands growing tired of maintaining your decency. The showerhead was sending blankets of mist into the air. “I… I don’t…”

In the swiftest you’d seen him do it, Kylo Ren tore off his helmet and flung it into the wall with a terrifying smash. Embers of rage were kindling in his eyes--but he appeared calm. Controlled. “Tell me.”

“N-nothing to… Nothing to tell,” you said, disappointed with the unmistakable timbre ofI’m-Lying-My-Ass-Off in your voice.

He held out a hand, and all at once, the water was turned off, falling droplets suspended in air, stuck in a web of invisible thread. Black boots crossed the threshold into the shower, the hanging water catching on his robes, his face--dripping down his skin as they were knocked free from the Force. His steps were slow, methodical, as if he was barely concealing the furor simmering inside of him. Another twinge of his hand, and you were flush with the warm tile of the shower, limbs splayed, and the rest of the water was released, moisture slipping in rivulets down your back and legs. Blood rushed your face at the vulnerable exposure.

“You’re stopping me now,” he said, “but what about when I try?” His body was inches from yours, his hand hovering in front of your face, fingers twitching.

It was then you realized that he hadn’t lied--he hadn’t been trying to read your thoughts before--because if the pressure you experienced then was painful, then this was excruciating. Your skull was being squashed by a massive, powerful fist, wringing out your every defense, your ears not ringing, but screaming, your eyes preparing to pop from their sockets. You couldn’t hear your cries of pain over the cacophony in your head, and then you saw it--you breaking into the room, you holding the helmet, dropping it, your terror, your vow to hide it--and like the snap of a branch, he was out. Oxygen filled your chest.

“Insolent girl,” he said, shifting his hand only slightly, and now the Force was on your neck, halting your breath. “I leave you for mere hours and you prove you still fail to harbour a modicum of respect towards me.”

Your only response was a pathetic croak as you stared into his eyes, unwanted warmth building in your belly as you remembered your projection from last night. You were sucked into the expanding pools of his pupils--and you knew he remembered it, too.

You want me to choke you, don’t you?

Kylo Ren seemed unable to parse the difference between his anger and desire, his face contorting in a strange combination. He pulled away, raising his arm above his chest, only to bring the back of his hand across your face in a stark, painful slap.

Your neck whipped back and forth, rattled from his strength, the harsh leather stinging your cheek. The daze of stars in your vision fell away, and you blinked, eyes wide, torn between the pain in your face and the squiggle of arousal worming its way through your abdomen.

He sensed it, narrowing his eyes, gripping your chin like a vice. “Filthy whore. You like it.”

When you were silent, he reared back with his other hand and brought it across the opposite side of your face, sending your head bobbing again with a spiral of pain. After this, the hold of the Force disappeared, and your naked ass hit the cooling tile floor. You winced from the bruise you were sure you’d sustain on your tailbone, but found that your desire was only growing as the pain from the slap faded. You needed more.

“You will learn to respect me,” he said, towering over you.

You smirked, gliding your tongue over your lips. “That the best you got... Commander?”

Fury flashed over his face, and in one quick movement he grabbed his lightsaber from his belt, swung back, and walloped you straight in the jaw. Black spots eclipsed your sight, ears deaf with high-pitched pain. The taste of liquid copper saturated your tongue, dribbling out of the corner of your mouth, staining your chin and breasts red. Blood.

As you returned to reality, you saw Kylo watching you, chest heaving, eyes wild with--something. You smiled wickedly, showing off your tinted teeth, and spat, splattering his face with a viscous red spray.

He seethed. “Nasty little slut,” he said, leaving red streaks as he wiped it away. He ground his palm into your face, smearing your blood into your skin, and then began working at the tent in his pants, releasing his long, hard cock. “Let’s see if we can’t fix that mouth.”

Growling, he pushed the head of his member past your panting lips, and you purred in satisfaction, dropping your jaw to receive the rest of his dick. Kylo Ren was impatient--he had already tangled his fingers in your wet hair, and ripped your head forward to swallow him. You retched when he hit the back of your throat, his pre-cum mingling with the blood pooling in your palate.

“You like that?” he mumbled, sliding out.

You hummed in assent, pressing your wet tongue against the throbbing underside of his cock. Your heart was beating out of your chest, thighs clamping in lust--after being denied it for so long, finally having him in your mouth was overwhelming you. He had almost entirely pulled out, and you tightened your lips around his girth, wanting to trap him.

“So eager for me,” he said, and eased in again, holding your head in place, watching as his length disappeared into you. “But I don’t think this is teaching you anything.”

Without giving you a chance to respond, he bent your neck back and drove his cock into your mouth, one hand tugging your hair, the other using the wall as support as he fucked deep into your warm, wet throat. A groan attempted to escape you, but was throttled by the merciless strokes wrecking your body. Sparks were buzzing over your skin, air squeaking into your nose, tears welling in your eyes as thrust into your throat again and again. His gaze was trained on you, his breath coming in shorter bursts the faster he moved.

“Shit,” he said. “This is what you deserve--isn’t it?”

You attempted to nod, finding it impossible from your position. All you could respond with was an agreeable whimper. But Kylo Ren didn’t think it was good enough. He withdrew from you, cock bouncing, and delivered another slap to the same side of your face he had struck you with the saber. You keened, grasping at the pain.

“Answer me when I ask you a question, whore,” he said, twisting your head to face him.

“Yes, yes sir, I deserve this,” you groaned, red saliva dripping down your chin.

“That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he said. “Open.” You did, and he spit into your mouth and pushed his dick back inside of it.

You gagged, swallowing against him, and he yanked your head to its previous position, a quiet groan leaving him as you hollowed your cheeks and sucked him. He drew in a breath through his teeth, watching your neck bulge as he stretched your throat, blood-soaked spit coating your skin, falling down to your breasts and stomach. You worked your tongue along the underside of his dick, pulling your lips in over your teeth.

“You look so good taking my cock,” he said. “You love it, don’t you?”

A moan rumbled through you, and you tried to bob your head into his thrusts to prove it. He hissed in pleasure, the hand in your hair helping you along. You were insatiable, your hand moving down to your clit, fingers pinching and teasing it, sending tremors of ecstasy up your thighs, stiffening your nipples, and you moaned again--but then the Force tacked your wrists to the tile on either side of your head. Frustrated from your continued denial, your face scrunched in desperation as you whined against his pulsing cock.

“I decide when you cum,” he said, scraping his fingers into your scalp. “I decide if you even deserve it.”

Hot tears seared your cheeks as your whine escalated to a sob, jaw aching, mouth numb. Kylo Ren smirked, relieving you of his dick, and you gasped for breath, watching the tendrils of your bloody drool hang from his shaft. His cock was slick, red, twitching to be inside of you again.

“Please, please, please sir,” you said, crossing your legs to put pressure on your clit. “I need to cum, please! Please let me cum!”

Kylo Ren snickered, running his hand back and forth along his length. “What will you do for me if I let you cum?”

“Anything,” you said, “I’m yours.”

His eyes widened. “Mine?”

You nodded. “Yours, Commander.”

With a flick of his wrist, you were rising up the wall, legs dangling, and his lips smothered yours, tongue invading your mouth, sliding over your gums, caressing your own tongue with a rough insistence. You moaned into him, wanting to reach out and touch him, discovering you were still stuck.

He moved down your neck, his plush lips leaving a hot trail of kisses down your chin, jaw, licking and sucking at the stains of blood left there, creating planes of goosebumps across your flesh. His tongue drew a line across your collarbone, and he fell to your breasts, taking one of your nipples into his mouth, suckling it. You moaned, meeting his gaze, and he rolled his tongue around the hardened bud, sending shivers through you, straight to your clit. Exasperated, he pulled away, scanning your wet, blood-stained body. His lips parted in awe.

“You’re beautiful,” he breathed.

You were speechless, beginning to tremble, and Kylo Ren dropped to his knees between your legs, hoisting your thighs over his shoulders, leather fingers clutching your hips. Then everything but your hands was free from the Force, your weight supported entirely by him. Your cunt clenched in anticipation, but your teeth were clacking from anxiety, and he met your eyes.

“Relax,” he said.

You nodded, but despite your best efforts, you couldn’t, chin still wavering. It wasn’t like you hadn’t enjoyed the last time--but something about him being so close, so intimate with your sex ground your nerves to stubs.

Kylo glared at you, gouging the flesh of your hips hard enough to leave bruises. “Relax,” he ordered.

“Yes, sir,” you said. You closed your lids and took a breath through your nose and held it, waiting for the quakes in your body to disappear before letting it go.

“Good girl,” he said. “Now look at me.”

You opened your eyes, and his gaze locked with yours as his warm mouth started to suck at the sensitive flesh of your inner thighs, extracting a mewl from you. He smirked against you, moving closer to your center, and you bit your lip, walls contracting again with desire. As he drew closer, the waves of his hair tickled your skin, and then he skipped his tongue across your outer folds, making your hips buck toward him.

“Naughty thing,” he said, and pressed his full, soft lips to your pussy, dragging his flat tongue along the slit.

Electricity shot through you. “F-fuck,” you said, squirming under his grip, wanting so badly to coil the waves of his hair around your fingers.

Kylo suppressed a laugh with your flesh, lavishing your cunt with deep, slow kisses, tongue sliding inside of your folds, lapping the juices at your core, teasing your outer lips with languid licks. He moved away from your center, his mouth back to crawling along your thighs, and you complained with a grumble. In response, he took the tip of his tongue and flicked your clit.

“Dammit!” you moaned, rocking your hips toward him. You stared at him with shining, pleading eyes.

He growled and sucked your clit into his mouth, and you cried out, body jerking, but he held you fast, swirling his tongue around the sensitive nub. A moan left you as you gyrated your hips, warmth spreading out across you, fingertips and toes buzzing with bliss. Kylo played his tongue against your swollen clit, your walls throbbing as your pleasure continued to build.

“Oh, fuck,” you said, head hanging to the side. “Kylo…”

The vibrations of his moan reverberated through your pussy, and he sucked harder, his gaze never leaving yours, golden-brown eyes boring bottomless holes through your brain. Your breath came faster, a familiar pressure flushing through you, leading you higher, higher, dragging you to the precipice of pleasure. Kylo Ren buried his face into your cunt, lips tight on your clit, tongue batting the bundle of nerves. Incessant moans escaped your chest with every ragged breath, jaw hanging open, latent drops of blood splashing onto his face.

“Fuck,” you said, “Kylo--I’m gonna--fuck!”

A tidal wave of euphoria slammed into you, walls pulsing, body wracked with the convulsions of a long-delayed orgasm, vision whiting out as you threw your head back, a loud string of unintelligible curses flying from you. Kylo gripped your spasming legs as he sucked you to the end of your orgasm, tip of his tongue sliding up your slit to your mound as you finally returned to the ground. Your chest swelled as you caught your breath, refocusing on Kylo’s face.

“Good girl,” he said, holding you with the Force and standing. His dick was leaking pre-cum, twitching with need. “I think you’re ready for me now.”

You swallowed, the taste of metal still soaking your tongue. “What?”

Kylo Ren raised an eyebrow. “You’re mine,” he said. “That means we’re finished when I say we’re finished.”

“But--”

His palm struck your face, blurring your vision, and he grabbed your chin, pinching it as he turned your face to him. “You’re here to serve me. Do you understand?”

New arousal wriggled in your belly as you regained focus, and you slurped up the globs of pink spit below your lips. “Yes, sir.”

He growled, shaking your head as he squeezed your chin. “Who am I?”

“Yes, sir, Commander Ren,” you whimpered.

“Now you understand,” he said, wrapping an arm around your waist and tossing you over his shoulder.

The bathroom shrunk behind you as he brought you into the hall, and then into his bedroom. As the door closed behind him, he grabbed you and spun around, pinning you to the metal by your neck, thumb depressing your blood flow. Breath shuddered in your ribcage, and you gulped against his leather grip, excitement stirring between your legs. A cruel smile was on his lips.

“This is what you wanted, isn’t it?” he said. “For me to hold you by your neck and fuck you like the filthy little slut you are?” He was grinding his naked member against your leg, coating it with pre-cum and the remnants of your blood.

Your walls clenched and you nodded, chewing your lip. “Yes, sir, Commander Ren,” you said.

“Open,” he said, and you obeyed. He spat into your mouth again. “You think you deserve this?”

“Please,” you said, swallowing. Your cunt had already resumed aching. “Please, please fuck me, Commander.”

Kylo Ren snarled as he knocked your legs apart with his knee, forcing them to wrap around his waist. “Take it,” he said, and without hesitation, shoved his hard length into your tight, wet core, splitting you open with a single thrust.

“Fuck!” you howled, and then your wrists were above your head, held by thin air.

“Did I say you could talk?” he said, enveloping the front of your face with the smooth leather of his hand. His thumb held your jaw open, and his first and middle finger delved into your mouth to press on your tongue. His other hand still held fast to your neck, restricting your breath just enough to make you light-headed. “Quiet.”

You nodded, and he began pumping into you, lips parting as his cock was gripped by the pulsing walls of your cunt. He confined his groans to his chest, the only noise in the room the slick, slippery noise of his length disappearing into your pussy. A delicious buzz was on your lips and fingertips, your heartbeat thumping against his thumb. Kylo Ren fucked into you harder, forcing strangled squeaks from your lungs.

“You’re so tight, so fucking wet,” he murmured into your ear. “It’s like you were made to take my cock.”

Lust was a firestorm on your skin, and you were unable to stop the shameless moan brought on by his words. Kylo grunted, digging his fingertips into the flesh of your face.

“I told you to be quiet,” he said, huffing with every snap of his hips.

He rammed into you, filling you completely. The sound of him slapping into you grew louder, more urgent, and there was a sudden fluid pressure on your clit, whirling around it, and your eyes flew open.

“Do it,” he said. “Cum.”

You stifled a cry, the Force pulling you into another climax, your cunt clamping down on his cock as the firestorm on your skin erupted into a volcano, hot magma pouring over you as he continued to fuck you.

“That’s right,” he said. “Good girl.” He pulled you from the wall and off of his cock.

Kylo Ren moved quickly, tossing you onto his bed, tearing off his cowl and climbing on top of you, slipping his member into you and stroking deep into your pussy. Without him silencing you, you were back to moaning, lids sealing shut as you tried to find yourself in the hurricane of pleasure. His hand returned to your neck, the warm glove squeezing your windpipe.

“Look at me, whore,” he said.

Your eyes snapped open, meeting the liquid amber irises of his gaze, his brow knit in focus, his hot breath buffeting your face. Blood was racing through your ears and cheeks, body raw from your double orgasm, echoes of pain at your jaw, your face, your cunt--you were exhausted, heart catching up with every breath.

“Have you had enough?” he asked through the increasing movement of his hips.

The knot in your throat poked at the flesh of your neck as you swallowed again. “Yes, yes sir,” was all you could get out.

Kylo Ren scowled and pulled out, and you felt as if the foundation had been swiped from underneath you, emptiness encompassing you.

“I don’t think you have,” he said, and took his saber, holding it in front of him.

Before you could protest in fear--or otherwise--it roared to life, red plasma jutting from the hilt. He twirled it, a low drone slicing through the air, and smirked at you, gripping the top of the hilt and bringing the bottom between your legs. The heat from the blade inspired sweat at the backs of your thighs.

“Don’t move,” he said, and pressed the bottom of the hilt to your over-sensitive clit.

The hilt was vibrating with the unstable crackling of the blade, barely noticeable unless applied with pressure to bare skin--just as he was doing to you. You choked back a squeal, shaking your head with restrained zeal.

“Please, no, stop,” you said. “I can’t--”

“You said you wanted to cum,” he said, watching your face contort.

“It’s too much,” you said, teeth cutting into your bottom lip. “Kylo--”

“Is that what you’re calling me?” he said, narrowing his gaze.

Kylo Ren continued, sticking three gloved digits into your core, curving them inside of you, and you winced, teeth grinding together as he rotated the base of his saber against your tender clit. You gathered lungfuls of breath, voice grating like rust against the back of your throat. He rocked his hand into you, staring at you, blade of his saber gleaming in his eyes, driving the vibrations harder into your clit.

You felt it building despite your will--savaging the nerves already peeled open, fraying what resistance you had left, and his lips separated while watched you inch toward the edge, fighting to suppress the reflexive contractions of muscles. He stroked the raised flesh inside of your cunt, rubbing the base of the hilt around your nub.

“One more,” he said. “Cum for me. Right now.”

Your brain went blank--definitively, this time--as you tensed against all of your instincts, cumming painfully around his fingers, your walls crushing him as a cracked scream shredded your throat, explosions resonating through your skin. It was as if you’d been flayed and hung on display, every limb gone limp, eyes fluttering at the back of your head.

“Such a good girl,” Kylo cooed, his voice leading you back to consciousness, and as you opened your lids, he was above you again, having turned his saber off at some point, pupils glinting with hunger. “Now take this cock like a good girl should.”

He grasped your throat, his other hand shoving your face into his mattress, and plunged into you, drawing incoherent gurgles from you as he brutalized your cunt, stretching you apart, stuffing you with every inch of his dick. His breath was quick, short, matching the pace of his thrusts, sweat sticking his hair to his forehead. Lips furled reveal his teeth--he was frenzied, eyes consumed with black lust.

“You love it,” he said, “you love being used by my cock. Don’t you?” You didn’t respond, and he spat in your face, squeezing your throat tighter. “Answer me, bitch.”

“Yes, Commander,” you wheezed under his grip, bouncing from the force of his hips. “I… I love it.”

“Of course you do,” he said. “Shit--fuck--”

Kylo hissed your name between his teeth, nestling his face into your neck as he came, groaning against you. His muscles shook from the sheer power of his orgasm as he pumped you full of his hot cum. He slowed and stuttered, hips coming to a stop. Finally, he pulled out and slid two gloved digits up your slit, collecting the mixture of fluids. You grimaced, still sensitive.

“Taste what you did,” he said, jamming his fingers into your mouth.

Sharp flavors lit up your tongue--the tang of your blood, a hint of dry leather, and the unmistakable punch of your intermingled cum. You sucked it away and cleaned the seams and crevices of his gloves, humming with happiness. It was all you had energy left to do.

He groaned appreciatively. “Good,” he said. “Good girl.”

Kylo Ren pulled away and adjusted himself to decency. His gaze lingered on you for a few long moments-- you were bruised, bloody, broken--just as you’d wanted. A hand tousled the matted hair on his face before he left the room, silent.

You watched him go, dimly aware of your heart slowing to a normal pace, of the sweat streaming down your skin, of the spinning room stabilizing in front of your cum-hazed eyes. Words weren’t forming in your head, let alone on your lips. You wanted to call him back, ask him where he went, make him stop the sudden plummet to depression and loneliness you’d begun. A slow blink was all you could manage.

Before you’d fully descended to the world, Kylo Ren re-entered the bedroom, something in his fist. The angle you were at blocked it from your sight.

“Sit up,” he said, wedging a hand on the small of your back to ease you forward to the edge of the bed.

Everything in you teetered, your head heavy as a boulder, but he held you, kneeling in front of you as he scanned you, face unreadable. He reached up--he had been holding a towel, you realized--and pressed the cloth to your face. It was damp, warm, soothing--alleviating the pain in your jaw as he wiped your face free of blood and sex.

You held your breath, almost unable to believe what he was doing, but not wanting to question it. He met your eyes as you thought this, and you knew he must have heard you. However, he said nothing, only shifting to a untarnished section of the towel, moving to clean your neck, breasts, and lower body. Every movement was gentle, deliberate, as if you’d shatter underneath his hands. His other palm was still steady on your back, the strength of his support an unexpected comfort. As he finished, he searched you for a reaction, his face blank.

When you were silent, Kylo Ren blinked, discarded the towel to the side and stood. “I will be leaving on the shuttle for an extended period of… business,” he said. “The General has instructed that you remain on board until my return.” He was solemn, expressionless.

“Oh,” was all you could think to say.

A muscle in his jaw tensed. “Return to your quarters and resume normal duties until then.”

“Oh... Right now?” you asked. Your limbs rejected the idea of movement.

“I’m departing shortly,” he said. “See to it that you’ve vacated by then.” Without another word, he turned, unlocking the door to that room and closing it behind him.

You gnawed on your cheeks, staring down at your feet. Your hair was drying--maybe, by the time you got back to your cot, it’d even look presentable. And maybe, if you were lucky, the swelling in your face would be down by tomorrow, too.

But you doubted it.

Chapter Text

Kylo Ren had been gone three days when the handprints on your neck dwindled to faint red lines. He’d been gone over ten when the purple bruise on your jaw faded to a yellow-green. But it had only taken one for you to miss how his body felt against yours, how his lips brushed along your skin, how his eyes stared--not at you, but into you. Through you.

You hadn’t stepped back onto the docking bay since Kylo had left. There was little desire to surround yourself with prying eyes while you worked on meaningless tedium to appease the superior officers. Instead, you spent a lot of your time masturbating, unable to get your mind off of the last time he’d fucked you. It had been the most intense, passionate, physical thing you’d ever done--and it left you feeling more confused than ever.

The violence was one thing--probably not sustainable--but what really bothered you was afterwards, when he’d wiped you free of fluids. How gentle he’d been, how, only minutes after ripping you open, he had made any effort at all to stitch you back together. You hadn’t expected that. But, to be honest, you weren’t sure what you were expecting. You weren’t even sure how you felt about him, anymore. Kylo Ren was proving to be as unpredictable as ever.

It was over a plate of tasteless slop that you’d decided to ponder your predicament--alone. But despite the fact that you’d chosen an inconvenient hour in hopes of privacy, your musing was interrupted by the sound of squeaking regulation boots against the mess hall tile. You looked up, ready to stare down the intruder and claim your territory--but met a familiar face, instead.

“Minks,” you said, “what are you doing here?”

She groaned, collapsing into the seat across from you. “Oh my stars, just having the worst day ever,” she said, and pointed to your slop-plate. “That any good?”

“No,” you replied, and she whined. “That sucks, though, dude. What happened?”

Minks sighed, went to grab a spare plate from the line, and returned to her seat, breathing in through her nose, eyes closed. “Two words,” she said, and opened her eyes. “Ejector. Seats.”

“Oh, no,” you said, crossing your arms. “Let me guess: Oh, Loren, these are installed improperly, you have to--”

“Connect them to the master circuitry console! Yes, that’s exactly what he said!” She took a bite of the slop, gnashing it with short, quick chomps. “And I told Jakar, no, that’s been proven to be inefficient, especially on these newer models--”

“So inefficient!” you said, shaking your head. “Especially when you can just--”

“Join it to the solar connector line! I mean, jeez, if you need the ejector seat,” she paused to take another bite.

“If you need the ejector seat, the master circuitry’s probably already done for,” you finished for her, grinning.

Her eyes widened as she threw her hand in the air. “Exactly!” she said through a full mouth, and swallowed. “That’s exactly what I told Jakar. And, look, I love Jakar--but he just looked at me, like, oh, Loren, as if, as if… I don’t know.”

Your brow furrowed. “As if you’re some idiot.”

Minks took a breath, frowning. “Yeah.” She regarded her food with apprehension. “You were right, this really isn’t good.”

“Told you,” you said, smiling. You watched her take another bite and looked down at your own plate, chest feeling fuzzy. “Hey, so… there’s an open second engineer position on Starkiller. You should think about coming back with me.”

She choked, brows rising. “You think I’m good enough to work on Starkiller?” she said.

“Definitely,” you said. “You’d be great. And my boss is… he’s really cool.”

“I don’t have to think about it!” she said, beaming. “Sign me up!”

You laughed. “Okay, okay. I’ll… I’ll ask Commander Ren about it.”

“Yay!” she said, and clapped her hands like a child. “You’re the best!”

“Don’t know about that,” you replied, taking another bite. Part of you just couldn’t stand the idea of returning to Starkiller without a friend who wasn’t your boss.

Minks scoffed. “You’re so silly.” Her expression shifted. “Whoa, whoa--I just noticed. What happened to your face?”

“Oh,” you replied, passing a hand over the shrinking bruise. “Man, you know what, I slipped in the bathroom and hit my jaw right on the sink!” You shook your head, shrugging. “Just a klutz.” At least only Kylo Ren could read your thoughts. Oh, that? I just goaded Kylo Ren into clobbering me with his lightsaber right before I gave him a bloody blowjob. It’s totally no big deal.

She nodded. “Ouch! Glad nothing worse happened.”

Nothing worse? Well, then he choked me while he wrecked my vagina with his massive dick. “Haha, yeah. You know how it is,” you said, blushing at your own internal monologue. You’d probably need to masturbate again when you got back to your room. That’d be--what, the third time in one day?

“By the way,” Minks said, leaning in. “How are things going with that guy you were talking about?” She raised a knowing eyebrow, as if she actually had read your thoughts.

“Uh,” you said, blood pressure rising. Not every detail had to be shared. “Well… I kind of fucked up.”

She blinked, pouting. “Oh, no! What happened?”

You sighed. “Well, I don’t know. I went over his room the other night just kind of went through his personal things and messed with stuff and he got really mad at me.”

“Oh, wow,” she said. “Yeah, that doesn’t look too good for you.”

“But, I mean!” you said, scratching your head. “He messed with my stuff! And he’s the one who invited me over, so like… I don’t know!” Guilt was a black dog nipping at your heels.

Minks frowned, taking a final bite from her food. She studied your face as she finished. “So, your argument is ‘he started it’?” She grimaced. “I mean, jeez. He invited you into his space. He expected something better from you, I’m sure.”

“But! He, like! I don’t know!” you said, crossing your arms.

There was a temptation to say that Minks simply didn’t get it. After all, you’d left out one important detail--this was Kylo Ren that you were talking about. He didn’t care about you--the idea that you should care about him in return was ludicrous. But you remembered the night before you’d found the helmet. His warm strength against you. His arm pulling around you.

I never forget you.

Maybe you had made a tiny little mistake. “Okay, okay,” you said. “Fine. I’ll… I’ll…” It wouldn’t come out. The word was like poison on your tongue. “Ugh--apologize to him.” Apologize to Kylo Ren. Great.

Minks clapped again. “Look at you! Let me know how it goes, okay?” She winked.

You rolled your eyes, sulking. “Yeah, yeah, fine. Whatever.”

“You’re so cranky,” she said, with a smile brighter than a star. “Have a good night, girl!”

“Night,” you said, watching her dispose of the rest of her meal and head out of the mess hall. When she had turned the corner, you sighed, combing your fingers through your hair. “Stupid optimists.”

After you returned to your quarters, you fulfilled your desire get another one off and fought your way to sleep, debating on how you’d even phrase an apology to Kylo Ren. You went over it a thousand times in your head, every time sounding less sincere than the last. Sorry I found your creepy Darth Vader helmet that you have no reason to have anyway. Sorry I looked through your stuff when you’re the one who left me there and didn’t lock your doors properly. Sorry you got a taste of your own medicine.

Hopefully, by the time he returned to the Finalizer, you’d have a better draft.

The next morning, you awoke to an alert on your datapad: Arrival: Command Shuttle at 03:42. You looked at the time-- 07:06. Kylo had already been back for over three hours--you hadn’t expected to be faced with the prospect of seeing him so soon. If you were lucky, he’d already gone to sleep, and you could complete your inspection of the shuttle without having to speak with him at all. Before you left out of your quarters, you glanced at your reflection, catching the blotch of green-yellow still on your jaw. Looking better than ever.

The docking bay was unusually quiet when you arrived--you wondered if it was residual fear from the return of the Command Shuttle--and the Command Shuttle’s owner. Cracking your knuckles, you breezed by the diagnostic terminal, too familiar with the work order you knew was awaiting you. Instead, you climbed the ramp onto the shuttle, ready to run through interior inspection and sail onto the more interesting stuff: the engines, fuel tanks, and cannons. Sure, checking internal safety equipment was important and whatever--but complications that came with those pieces were boring. Give you a misfiring fuel cluster anyday.

You had been able to complete your full inspection with little interruption--to your surprise, you hadn’t even seen Minks throughout the day--and you cleared the order from the terminal with a sense of actual accomplishment swelling in your chest. You’d forgotten what productivity had felt like.

After closing out the terminal, you made your way out of the docking bay, hoping to stop by the mess hall before slinking back to your quarters. But as you turned down one of the many non-descript, empty hallways of the Finalizer, your eyes met with a tower of furious black fabric, and you almost made the decision to turn around and very casually sprint in any other direction.

But it was too late. You heard your last name resonate through the metal of the mask, the steady beat of his steps growing louder in your ears. The tiny hairs on your neck and arms stiffened, your heart tumbling somewhere inside the coil of your intestines.

“Yes, Commander?” you replied, hoping that your face wasn’t as red as it felt. You’d almost forgotten what it felt like to be in his presence.

“Report,” he said, the distance between you closing to mere feet.

You blinked. “Um, all, uh, all inspections and checks are completed, sir.”

“As expected,” he replied. “No issues, I presume?”

The increasing awkwardness of this conversation was unnerving you. “Uh, nope--no, no problems sir.” You took a breath. Might as well keep it awkward. “Actually, Commander, I had a question for you.”

He did not respond--but the weight of his gaze was heavy on your shoulders.

“I know that you’re not really, well, in charge of this, but I don’t think General Hux cares much for me--or even knows my name--so I was wondering if you could, maybe… pass something on for me?”

No response again. You wondered what he was looking at, your palms slippery as you clasped your hands together.

“There’s a vacant second engineer position on Starkiller, and I think that Officer Minks Loren would be an excellent replacement, so I was thinking that maybe she could, um, come back with us.”

A moment of silence dangled between you as Kylo Ren continued to lock you in his invisible stare. After what seemed an eon, a gloved hand raised to your chin, tilting your jaw to the side, exposing the healing bruise to his visor. You swallowed, looking to the wall, feeling crimson cover your cheeks, your breath leaking from your nose. His thumb grazed over the spot, once, twice, and he turned his head, waiting for your reaction. When you were motionless, he passed his thumb over it again, applying pressure this time, and you winced.

His hand left your face, going to your neck now, fingertips ghosting over where the imprint of his hand had been. The light touch raised goosebumps on your flesh.

Steadying yourself with a gulp of air, you resigned yourself to your fate. “Commander,” you said. “Um... I’m...” You groaned and searched his mask, hoping you had been able to link with his eyes at least once. “What I did. It wasn’t right.”

Kylo Ren froze, mask shifting millimeters to better meet your gaze. His hand remained on your neck, stiller than the air.

“I’m…” You groaned again, closing your lids. “I’m sorry.”

When he said nothing, you peeked at him with an eye. He was a statue, the steady rise and fall of his chest the only hint that he was even alive. You averted your gaze to the floor, pulse pounding in your ears. Like a wilting stem, he dropped his arm, fingers tensing in and out of tight fists, and retreated a step from you.

“I’ll see to it that she’s re-assigned,” he said, and took off, robes whipping behind him in a dark swirl.

Your heart crashed from your intestines through the floor as you watched him go. That went well.

Chapter Text

“Minks, this is Chief Engineer Sam Foster.”

Without hesitation, Minks strangled Sam’s hand with her own, arm bouncing as she pulled him into an enthusiastic handshake. “Foster, nice to meet you!” she said. “Minks Loren, second engineer, reporting for duty! Sir!”

Sam winced through his smile, rubbing his wrist when his hand was released. “Ah--so nice to meet you!” he said. “Let me go over a few things about Starkiller base before you get started.”

“Yes, sir!” she said, following Sam back to his terminal.

Over his shoulder, Sam shot you a wide-eyed look, and you shrugged, grinning. He probably figured he’d never meet a person more cheerful than he was--he was getting a taste of his own medicine. As you watched him, you couldn’t deny that there was something attractive about the way he stood behind Minks, leading her through the basics of his old assignment. Something about his confidence--so self-assured, so certain in his knowledge and skill. You ran your fingers over the ghost of your bruise. He deserved better than you.

Sighing, you turned back to your own terminal, heart twinging with jealousy when you heard Minks’ laugh echo into the ceiling. Maybe someone like her. You swallowed a lump, scrolling through the work orders on your screen. While you picked off the ones you’d address today, you felt a tap on your shoulder, and jumped, spinning to face the intruder.

“Hey,” Sam said, a warm smile on his face. “You’re back.”

You nodded, blushing already. “It was an awkward ride,” you said. Commander Ren had flown the ship in complete silence while Minks sat next to you in the passenger area, producing an endless string of compliments regarding the shuttle’s construction. “But yeah, I’m back.”

His brow furrowed, and he cupped your cheek, skimming the bruise on your jaw. “Dang,” he said, “what happened here?”

“Oh,” you said, resisting the urge to rip his hand away--as if he’d figure out its origin just by touching it. “Just slipped and fell. Clumsy me!” You shrugged and rolled your eyes, like this was something you said all the time.

“Weirdo,” he said, patting your shoulder.

“Takes one to know one,” you said, sticking out your tongue. He laughed, and you suppressed a face-breaking smile. Be casual. “Hey, look,” you said, “about our rela--”

“Foster!” called Minks’ voice, and she came bounding towards your terminal. “Oh my stars, you have to come here! I just found the funniest little mistake!”

He raised an eyebrow, smirking. “All right, calm down,” he said, and made his way back over to his terminal. When he passed Minks, she winked at you, making a thumbs-up as she pointed at his back before following him.

Breath stopped in your chest, the docking bay extending out miles before your eyes. Minks didn’t know. As far as she was concerned, Sam was fair game. Behind your sternum, your heart was withering, a spiral of unwanted, angry thoughts swirling through your head. The nameless, faceless woman your insecurity had always pictured with Sam was losing her anonymity.

You shook your head. No, Sam had even said it--his feelings hadn’t changed. He liked you. An adorable gleam of starshine like Minks Loren wouldn’t affect that--right?

Obsessing would be a waste of your time, regardless. You gathered your focus and returned to your work. For once, you had a list of orders that didn’t involve the Command Shuttle--of course, there were those post-flight checks you were putting off, but you were certain that if you spent one more work day running through basic inspections, you’d be sent to the psych unit.

Keeping your insecurity in check was difficult when your concentration was so frequently interrupted by the ringing bell of Minks’ laugh. It wasn’t like you were mad at her--after all, in some way, it was your fault from the beginning when you deliberately kept her blindfolded to your affairs. Despite that, you continued to remind yourself: Sam’s feelings hadn’t changed. Sam’s feelings hadn’t changed.

When your shift was up, you dragged your courage by its ankles to Sam’s station, your stomach flipping with every step. It should be simple to just talk to him, maybe tell him you were feeling insecure. But he had no idea how complicated you’d made the situation. Bringing up the possibility of a relationship felt dishonest when just two weeks prior you’d been bleeding, moaning, and cumming around Kylo Ren’s cock. Then again, it had been two weeks… that was like, almost half a month.

“Hey, Sam,” you said, pinching his shoulder.

He turned, a grin already on his face. “Hey there, weirdo,” he said. “First day back on your assignment go okay?”

“Yeah,” you said. Between Finalizer missions and your probation, you hadn’t so much as touched anything outside of the Command Shuttle in weeks. “It was nice, actually. Glad to see you didn’t mess up too much while I was gone.”

“Did my best,” he said. “We can’t all be superstars like you.” He winked.

Your cheeks burned. “Ha-ha,” you replied, glancing at your feet. “Hey, I wanted to talk to you about something.”

Sam leaned back onto his terminal, eyebrow raised. “Oh yeah? Shoot.”

Just talk to him. “Well, it’s about you and me, actually,” you said. “I’ve been--”

“Hey!” came Minks’ voice from behind a ship. Her knack for interrupting important moments was unparalleled. “Foster! Could you come here?”

“One second!” Sam replied over his shoulder. He looked at you. “Let me go check this out.”

You bristled. “But, actually, that’s exactly what I was--”

He was already moving toward her. “No, really, I’ll--I’ll be right back. Seriously.”

You watched him disappear behind the ship, taking more than a second. In fact, you’d stood there for a good two minutes before you heard a peal of laughter--both of them, wound up in some clearly hilarious joke. Well, that wasn’t fair. You liked to joke too. Before you realized it, your hands were rolling into fists, your jaw tightening, your feet carrying you out of the docking bay into the exit hall. Sam couldn’t spare you a second of the day with Minks in the picture. Perhaps your insecurity was onto something. But that was fine. There was someone who made time for you.

When you arrived at the command center’s doors, the two Stormtroopers on standby regarded you with faint recognition, like they hadn’t seen you at least twice before while under strange circumstances.

“Let me in,” you said. “Official, uh, Command Shuttle business, and stuff.”

One trooper shifted on his feet. “Commander Ren made no mention of expecting an engineer.”

You rolled your eyes. “He’s always expecting me,” you said. “Are you gonna let me through, or will he have to find out that you delayed my report?”

Intimidated by your confidence, the trooper moved to drop his blaster, but his partner wasn’t as convinced. “I’ll have to check with Commander Ren before letting you pass,” he said. “He’s very busy.”

“Fine,” you said, shrugging.

The trooper clicked his heels and marched into the center. You faced the remaining soldier, eyebrow cocked as you tapped your foot. It was only a few moments before the door opened, revealing not the trooper, but Kylo Ren, fists characteristically balled. The trooper was feet behind him, shoulders crowded in embarrassment, speaking quickly.

“Sir, I’m sorry, but she was just an engineer, I didn’t know if she’d be worth your ti--”

“This engineer could spend an hour prattling on about tauntauns and still would have wasted less of my time than you already have,” said Kylo Ren, mechanical voice betraying no emotion.

Heat flushed your cheeks, and you suppressed a grin. Was that a compliment?

“Very sorry, sir, won’t--”

Kylo Ren had already stopped listening. “Come,” he said--to you, you assumed--as he strode back into the command center.

“Uh, yep--yes sir,” you said, eyes locked on the floor while you trailed his heels.

All eyes in the center drifted toward you as you followed Kylo Ren--to certain death, you were sure they thought. You wanted to paint over the crimson growing on your face, to drain the lump forming in your throat--believing if they spotted your anxiety, they’d figure it out, they’d smell your guilt, they’d know why you came. He led you into a conference room, or what you figured was a conference room, you really had no clue what any of the self-important blowhards did there.

You shut the door behind you, your muscles overcome with a sudden stiffness, now that you were in a room with Kylo Ren. Alone. Were you really going to do this?

“Do what?” Kylo asked, mask tilting.

“Ugh, I hate you,” you said, bopping yourself in the head. Stupid brain with its stupid loud thoughts.

“You request my company to berate me?” he said, turning away from you.

It was now or never. You took a breath and trapped it in your lungs. “T-take your helmet off.”

The modulator muffled a chuckle. “No.”

The anger wrought from your self-doubt and rejection boiled into fumes. “Stop being an ass and take the fucking helmet off, dude!”

Silence arrested all movement between you. Kylo Ren’s dagger-gaze prodded you from behind his mask, looking to identify any hint of your intentions. Something told you that your shaking limbs and chin were giving you away. Gloved hands rose to the latches and popped them, the snout disengaging with a familiar sibilance. He pulled the helmet from his head and laid it on the sleek black plane of the conference table. You chewed your lip, warmth glowing in your belly. How did you manage to forget it every time?

“Forget what?” Kylo Ren said, brown eyes glittering gold with mischief.

You couldn’t bring yourself to say it--so you thought it, as loud as you could, trembling from your boldness. How fucking beautiful you are.

A near-imperceptible lip twitch, and his gaze narrowed. “Tell me what you want,” he said, moving toward you.

His presence filled the room, suffocating you, stopping your heart mid-beat. Every step he took was predatorial, bearing down on you with the precision of a hunter, until he loomed over you, toes centimeters from your own, chest so close that you both would touch with a deep enough breath. You scanned his body, heart pounding, palms sweating from the impending reality of your desire. Swallowing your fear, you met his stare--as intense as it had ever felt--and licked your lips.

“You.”

Kylo Ren smirked. “I know.”

Unable to decide between indignant and patronized, you eschewed both, and instead opted to hook your fingers into his belt, pulling yourself into him while you boosted yourself on your tiptoes to meet his lips with your own. Your kiss was hungry and demanding as you sought to memorize his mouth with your tongue. Kylo’s leather hands flanked your face, digits delving into your hair while he pressed into you, forcing you backwards, hitting the wall.

You groaned against his lips, writhing underneath him while you slid your tongue along his teeth, seeking to know every part of him, needing him to want you--to need you. Kylo drew in a breath through his nose and pushed deeper, like he wanted to fuse you with the wall, and your hands shot into his hair, a shiver running through you as you felt how soft, how luxurious it was in your fingers. Another soft groan rumbled in your chest, and--having distant, fuzzy deja vu--you wrapped the tendrils of his hair around your digits and yanked it.

Kylo moaned at that, pulling away, waves of harsh breath crashing over him. His blackened eyes darted across your face, switching between your lips and eyes. “I see we have a naughty girl here,” he said.

“Very,” you said, and tugged his hair again, bringing him to your mouth once more.

He smirked against you and his hands fell to your hips, roaming the swell of your curves before gripping the underside of your thighs and hiking you onto the wall. Immediately, the aching length in his pants ground into your center while his tongue fought its way into your mouth. Without you having to think, your legs circled him, and your hips were grinding back, pursuing any friction and heat you could find.

You peeled away to catch a breath, hands resting in his hair, and his lips went to work on your neck, suckling and nibbling the skin there. “Mmm, fuck...” you said, nuzzling his head with your own. “I want you so fucking bad.”

Hiding a groan, Kylo’s grip bruised your hips as he bucked into you. “You want me to fuck you, slut?” he said, breath hot on your neck. “Didn’t get enough of my cock last time?”

“Fuck no,” you said, meeting his hips as best you could.

Kylo growled and bit the tender flesh between your neck and shoulder, sucking an angry, puckering red mark into it while your hips continued to roll together. “How do you want to be fucked, hmm?” His tongue drew a wet line to your ear, and he whispered into it. “Tell me.”

You pulled at his scalp, whining from lust. “However you want to fuck me, Commander.”

“Then I’ll take you right here,” he murmured.

He unlocked your legs from around his waist and pinned them up between your bodies, hands working at the fasteners on your pants. Once he finished, he dragged them--and your panties--over your ass and up your thighs, your spread legs held together only by fabric, exposing your wet cunt to the cold conference room air. You whimpered, and his fingers found your slick lips, skimming across them and making you shudder.

“Shit,” you said, wiggling against his touch. “Please, please…”

“Look at you,” he said, failing to cover the huskiness in his voice, “so wet, pleading for me like a needy whore.”

“If it’ll get you inside me,” you replied, grinning.

Kylo Ren glanced up from looking between your legs to then meet your eyes, holding them in his stare while his hands worked at his own pants. The angle he had your thighs at obscured your sight, but you felt it-- his grip back on your hips, and the hot, thick length of his cock, sliding between your slit, grazing your throbbing bud. Your head fell back into the wall and you moaned, walls pulsing, hips shifting with all your strength for more connection.

“Fuck yes,” you said, biting your lip as you stared back at him. Your mind flooded with images of his dick slamming deep into you, wanting him drunk on lust.

It seemed to work--his cheeks were flushing red, breath hitching while you silently screamed for him, his eyes leaping over your body, his member thrusting up your slit as he tried to pacify his desire. You moaned through your lip-bite, heart swelling--you weren’t so unwanted after all. Look at the power you had over Kylo Ren, the most terrifying man in the galaxy. Irrationally, stupidly, the thought flashed in your mind--this’ll show Sam.

Kylo froze, hands attempting to curl into fists while they were still buried in your flesh. You winced, whimpering, and his eyes raked over your figure until they met your gaze. Hunger was in his irises--but you didn’t know if it was hunger for you, or your blood. Shallow breath passed between you both.

“That’s why you came here?” he said, eye twitching. “A self-esteem boost?”

The severity of his tone made you shudder. You wished you could put a muzzle on your thoughts. “Well, I mean--”

“You think I’m your fuck-toy?” he rasped, the corner of his lip daring to quirk in a derisive grin. “No. You said it yourself. You’re mine.”

You had no time to respond before he was pulling off your shoes and dropping your legs, flinging all of your bottoms onto the floor as you were tacked to the wall by the Force. His hands hastily worked at the buttons on your top, leaving your shirt to hang open while he lowered the straps of your bra down your shoulders to allow easier exposure of your tits. When he was finished, you hung half-naked from the wall, chest heaving, nipples hard, wetness threatening to slide down your spread thighs. Kylo Ren devoured you with his eyes, jerking his cock as he stood in front of you.

“Yes,” he said. “I’d like to remember you just like this. Dripping, aching, on display for me--only for me…”

Another whimper escaped you as you wriggled against your invisible restraints. “Kylo--please,” you said.

He stared at your cunt, lips parted while he stroked himself. “Poor thing. Still want my cock, do you?”

You nodded, swallowing the saliva filling your mouth.

“That’s nice,” he said, and raised an eyebrow. “But now I’m not sure I believe you.”

In your mind, it didn’t matter what had brought you here The kissing and dry-humping had driven your arousal through the roof regardless. You watched his hand run back and forth over his length, cunt clenching when you remembered what it felt like inside of you. Breath rattled your ribs when you spoke.

“What can I do to convince you?” you said.

Kylo Ren considered you for a long moment, eyes drifting over you while he rubbed his cock. Then, in an instant, he was hovering over you, his mouth marking you, teeth leaving goosebumps in their wake. His member slipped along your pussy again, and you moaned, helpless under his will. One of his hands was on your breast, kneading it, leather catching on your nipple. The other hand skipped over your side, fingers drawing five shivering lines down your exposed flesh. Then he wedged himself between your bodies, dipping low to cup your sex.

Your teeth dug into your lower lip, wanting to plug as many noises as possible. His hand rested there for a moment, feeling your heat through his gloves, his mouth moving from your collarbone to the line of your jaw--passing over, you noticed, your bruise. The longing to grind down onto him was overwhelming, but all of your strength wasn’t enough to budge you an inch.

“Is this what you want?” he mumbled against your skin.

“Yes!” you cried without hesitation.

This evoked a pleased huff from him as he pulled apart your folds and dragged the leather pads of his digits over your clit--maddeningly slow. You growled in frustration, sweat gathering at your hairline as you struggled against the Force, to no avail. His digits pushed back, guiding your clit along the crevice between them while he teased your nipple. Another loud, desperate whine from you, and he nuzzled you.

“Shh,” he said, kissing your neck. “You want the command center to hear you begging for me? Want Hux to hear you screaming my name as I make you cum on my fingers?”

You sighed--a sound equal parts frustration and concession. “No, no sir,” you replied.

“I thought so,” he said, burying his face back into the crook of your neck, his thick hair soft on your skin.

Finally, finally, he slid two fingers into your cunt, eliciting a quiet gasp from you. Then he began rocking the heel of his palm on your clit while he curled his digits inside of you, stroking that sweet spot of raised flesh. Your lids were squeezed tight, lips pinched together, rubbing your head against his as the heat from his mouth grew sweat on your neck. Kylo was working fast, building the pressure inside of you in record speed, warm heat rushing out over your skin. Your walls throbbed around him, heart pounding, and he added a third digit, pinching your nipple with his other hand--sending stars shooting behind your lids.

“Fuck, Kylo,” you hissed into his ear. “Fuck--please--”

Just when you were balancing on the peak, feeling yourself losing grip, he stopped, pulling away from you, ripping every stitch of pleasure from your flesh, sending you tumbling down into a pit of furious, urgent need.

“Fuck!” you groaned, forgetting yourself for a moment. Blood hit your cheeks when you remembered who was beyond the wall at your back. You lowered your voice to a whisper. “Fuck, Kylo, what the fuck!”

He snickered. “Only good girls get to cum,” he said, and his brow furrowed. “You’ve been a manipulative slut.”

“Fuck you,” you said, the cry for release beating at the apex of your thighs.

“Yes, you’d like to, wouldn’t you?” he replied.

“Ky-lo,” you said, head rolling along the wall. “You fucking ass.”

He raised an eyebrow as he sucked your juices from his fingers, other hand lazily palming his erection. “I fail to see how continuing to insult me will engender a desire to cater to your demands,” he said with a sigh.

You exhaled, gulping your ire. “Please, Commander Ren,” you said with as much composure as possible. “I would like to cum, sir.”

Kylo Ren looked down at your cunt again, tongue darting out to lick his lips. “Perhaps you will,” he said, and dropped to his knees between your legs.

He was methodical, planting soft, warm kisses along the inside of your thigh while he massaged your hips with his hands. He kissed his way up to your center, and then passed over it, descending over your other thigh. The breath in your chest was a rapid circle, and Kylo smirked against your skin, enjoying the sight of sweat trickling down your temple.

When his mouth touched the swollen folds of your pussy, you gasped, keeping your eyes locked with his as he swept his tongue in between your lips, ghosting over the pearl of your clit. You tensed, gnawing your cheek, and he sucked your clit into his mouth, beating it with his tongue. If your back was able to move, you imagined it would have been arched feet from the wall, but as it was, your muscles were exhausted from fighting the Force.

Kylo moaned against you, tingles vibrating out from your thighs, and you snapped your jaw shut as you squealed. He pulled away, flicking your clit with the tip of his tongue before drawing it back into his mouth, sucking it between his teeth. It was building again--the pressure of your approaching orgasm, cresting quicker than it had before, making the muscles in your thighs quiver with excitement.

Quiet moans from you implored him to continue--and he sucked harder, taking you to the top, his hands gripping and caressing your thighs. You were choking on your own pleasure, so close, so ready to cum--

And his mouth was gone, dangling you above the edge by a thread, then tossing you back down the mountain. When he pulled away, you could see his hand still working his cock, a mocking smirk on his face, and you wanted to scream, to kick him right in his stupid, gorgeous face--

“What’s that?” he asked, wiping your juices from his chin.

You snarled. “What is your problem, man!” you said, greedy sparks crackling off of your skin.

“I told you that only good girls get to cum,” he said. He rubbed his cheek along your thigh, kissing the delicate flesh, and you shuddered. “I’m not fully convinced.”

A cyclone was roaring in your brain, tearing apart coherent trains of thought with primitive, physical clamoring. Your response was pieced together by the efforts of your need for release alone. “What do you--what do you want from me?” you asked through the frayed edges of your voice.

Kylo Ren rose, hand weaving through your hair, eyes boring into you while he spoke, lips millimeters from yours. “Be my pet,” he said. His other hand was snaking between your legs, and the tip of his index finger brushed your swollen nub, leather slipping on your wetness. You winced. “Stay with me.” The bass in his voice sent chills up your spine. He pinched your clit, and you squeaked. “Let me fuck you whenever I please.”

You frowned, chin quivering. “N-no,” you said. “I… I can’t do that.”

He blinked, something running through his mind--you could see it in his eyes. “Very well, then,” he said.

The Force around you lifted, but it didn’t matter--you were in Kylo Ren’s arms, being carried over to the conference table, laid out flat on your back across the panels and buttons that decorated the table’s border. The cold surface turned your body rigid. He stood between your legs, your ankles in his hands, staring down at you as he began to rock his hips, his hard, throbbing dick sliding between your slit. With every thrust, the head of his cock teased your stiff nub, and you reached to touch yourself, only to have him move his grip, holding your hands to your thighs.

“So beautiful,” he growled, member slick along the lips of your cunt. “How I’d love to keep you here, moaning under me like the little whore you are…”

You did indeed moan--proving him right, to your dismay--your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you tried to focus on the sensation of his length grazing you, wanting to will yourself to orgasm. Kylo slowed his pace, dipping against your entrance now as he pushed forward, your walls clamping with want--and when he pulled back, the swell of his head caught on the sensitive hood of your clit. This was even more torturous, and you bucked your hips toward him, the angle you were at gaining you nothing.

Kylo then gathered both of your wrists in one hand, the other sliding toward your cunt, over the burning flesh of your thighs and belly. With the head of his cock swiping against your entrance, he rested his palm on your mound, thumb moving to slowly, carefully stroke your clit.

“You fucker,” you groaned, peeling open your eyes to meet his gaze.

He was staring at you, face blank, surveying you while you twitched and jerked underneath his ministrations. His focus switched between your pussy--desperately trying to envelop his cock--and your red, sweating face, jaw slack from your haze of pleasure. You chewed your lip--it was bruised by now, certainly--clenching hard, trying to force yourself over the edge. But it was impossible. The amount of pressure he was applying was just enough to keep you stagnant, floating the line between ecstasy and torment.

“Kylo,” you said, frustration turning to liquid in your eyes, “please, make me cum. Please.”

“Say it,” he replied.

You shook your head, grimacing. “I can’t,” you said.

He blinked, disinterested, even as he continued to rub your clit. “Then I can’t make you cum.” He increased his pace so as to draw a moan from you, but kept you treading water.

“Fuck!” you said, squirming. “Please!”

“Shh,” he said with a frown. “The General’s office is right next door.”

You rolled your eyes. “Well then why did you pick this room!”

“Enough,” he said. He stepped closer, pushing the tip of his cock into you now, breath hitching when your pussy squeezed him as he pulled out. His gaze flitted to yours, spinning ribbons of longing around you with his eyes, and he bit his lip, smirking. “Fuck, you’re tight… I would love to fuck that little cunt until you came around my cock.”

That fucking asshole knew exactly what he was doing. You silenced a scream. “Kylo, please!” you whispered, voice hoarse with hunger. “Please, I’ll be your pet, I’ll do anything you want, I’ll suck your dick every night, I don’t care just please let me cum!”

He stopped, an impish grin on his face. “Good girl,” he said.

Kylo Ren braced himself as he sunk into your pussy, your wet walls swallowing his cock with ease as you let loose a long, satisfied moan. He sucked a breath in through his bared teeth as he began to pump into you, one hand still clutching your wrists, the other rubbing your clit. Throttled cries of pleasure were leaking from you, eyes closing in bliss.

“Fuck yes,” you said. “Fuck me, Kylo...”

At this, Kylo latched onto your wrists and moved them above your head, sticking them there while he fucked you deeper, harder, your body rocking from the power of his thrusts. You could feel his ragged breath on your face, knew without seeing him that he was above you, lips parted, pupils blown.

“Look at me,” he snarled. “Let me see your eyes as you cum for me.”

Groaning, you obeyed, lids parting to meet his gaze. Kylo was possessed, looking past you, through you, panting with every snap of his hips. You lost yourself in his stare, the rest of the room falling away, and his fingers moved faster over your clit, bringing you to that precipice once more. Little choked moans left you while your jaw hung slack, his cock pounding into you--then his fingers hit just the right spot, and the massive, asphyxiating pressure inside of you imploded. Kylo watched you with fascination.

You thought you kept your eyes open, but you weren’t sure, because you whited out, spasming and convulsing as your orgasm wracked your every cell, your every nerve, taking you to a height you’d never been to, never thought existed. Distantly, you were aware of your cunt drawing out Kylo’s climax as cursed and dug his teeth into your shoulder, fucking you harder as he spilled himself deep inside of you. You hadn’t realized what had happened until your spirit returned to your body and you felt the burn of hot, wet tears streaming down your cheeks--evidence of your relief.

Kylo collapsed on top of you, cock still inside your pussy, and both of you drank in lungfuls of air, starved for it, your brains fuzzy with the static of euphoria. You both laid there for a moment, rapt in the descent back to reality: a wet, slippery conference table. He caught his breath quicker than you did, pushing himself up and holding you in his stare again. It was impossible to tell what he was thinking. It didn’t seem fair.

His eyes drifted to your bruise, and he reached up to it, tracing over it again with his thumb. You blinked, still trembling from your orgasm. There was that same something glinting behind his eyes, and he met your gaze again.

“I expect to see you tonight,” he said, and pulled back, returning his cock to his pants.

You didn’t know how to respond, so you nodded and stood, knowing he wanted you to leave first. He put his helmet on while you neatened your hair and redressed, and you swallowed, catching a glimpse of him over your shoulder before you left the conference room, ignoring the hordes of eyes following you out of the doors.

Chapter Text

Starkiller was, by now, your second home. Or your home away from home. Or a place you were generally familiar with and assigned some type of emotional attachment to--however reluctantly. It was for that reason that you now stood in what you’d come to know as your room, immobile. Kylo Ren had said “stay with me”--but you weren’t sure how permanent that arrangement was expected to be, or what he expected you to bring. To be honest, you didn’t know much of anything about what was happening, just that you’d said the equivalent of “sure, whatever.”

At a late start of 01:00 (3 hours past your prescribed lights out), you showered, dressed, and left your room toting a small bag, packed with a change of clothes and your datapad. If he was expecting anything more, he’d have to deal with it.

This time, you weren’t in need of any deceptive tactics to get to Kylo Ren’s quarters. Being familiar with Starkiller meant, in turn, you were familiar with the designation of living areas--and his area was no exception.

Nearing his door, the pounding of your heart was in danger of fracturing your sternum. You weren’t sure why you continued to be nervous when entering Kylo Ren’s living space. Not only had you slept over before, you’d literally fucked him only hours ago--your sore vagina could attest to that. Maybe the memory of how you’d violated his space on the Finalizer was getting to you.

As you’d been expecting, you’d stood in front of the hatch for only seconds before it opened--and as you’d been expecting, Kylo Ren was nowhere to be seen. Puffing out your chest, you crossed the threshold into his quarters--a long, dark hallway punctuated by two perpendicular doors. You felt far too presumptuous choosing a door at a whim, so instead, you were pegged to the floor, waiting for a signal, a sign--something to lead you to a decision.

Your sign came in the form of light spilling into the hall from one of the doors, a fully clothed Kylo Ren emerging, as attractive as ever. There was a wordless moment suspended between the two of you before you clicked your tongue against your palate.

“So, like… how does this work? Am I staying?” you asked.

Kylo Ren glanced at your feet, then met your gaze. “Yes.”

“Forever?” you said. “Like, I still get to go to work, right?”

He sniffed, looking away. “You believe I’d entrust the Command Shuttle to an inferior engineer?”

Heat surged your neck and face. A part of you still couldn’t believe he considered you to be that skilled. “I don’t know. You said ‘pet,’ or something. I didn’t know if that meant I’m just here lounging, or like, I don’t--I don’t know, okay!”

“Yes. Pet,” he said. “In these quarters, I own you. You submit to me. You sleep with me. You serve me. ” He paused. “Beyond that hatch, you serve the First Order.”

Your heart was skipping beats like a drunk musician, the heat in your face dispersing through the rest of your body, and you shifted your weight. You were torn between feeling thrilled and terrified. The idea of getting to sleep next to him every night roused a confusing mixture of eager arousal and something you vaguely identified as security. But there were a number of complicating issues: Sam. Your career. The fact that this man was not a simple dalliance--but, in truth, Kylo Fucking Ren. There was no happy or pleasant end to any long-term engagement with someone like him.

“Uh, okay then,” you said, nerves spitting out sparks. “So, like…” He was staring at you as if he expected something, and your ignorance was inciting panic. “Do you, like, uh, do you wanna do--like, do something… or?”

“Come,” he said, disappearing through the door.

“Right,” you replied, lips strapped over your teeth while you watched the floor pass by under your feet.

You followed him into the room--his bedroom, you realized--and froze, standing at the door, arms crossed, palms sweating onto your sleeves. Teeth shredded the skin of your lip as you nibbled at it, and though you couldn’t see it, the pink on your cheeks was swarming down to your chest. The room itself was much the same aesthetic as the one on the Finalizer--his tastes were singular, it seemed. Kylo Ren stood by his bed, eyes trained on you, watching you. He was as stoic as ever, regarding you like you were the subject of his next science project.

“You’re uncomfortable,” he said. “Nervous. Anxious.”

“Yeah, well, no shit,” you said, looking anywhere but at him.

He sniffed again. “Why?”

The acid in your stomach was gurgling up your esophagus, your brow furrowing. “I don’t know, dude, maybe when the most powerful man in the galaxy invites you into his quarters and just stares at you, you start feeling a little fucking nervous.” You were glaring at him now. “Maybe it’s a little fucking weird being told you’re a ‘pet’ when you’ve never done anything like this before.”

Kylo’s eye twitched, and he strode toward you, trapping you in his stare and stopping inches away from you. He pinched your chin and angled you toward him, the smallest of smirks on his face.

“Your nasty mouth is going to earn you a punishment,” he said, tone low and severe. His lips were so close you could feel his breath on your nose. “But since my pet is so nervous on her first night, I’ll spare her this once.”

His words were liquid desire, injected straight into your veins, making you shiver. “Uh, what--whatever you say,” you said, swallowing your stress. “I… I don’t know what you want me to do right now.”

Still holding you steady in his gaze, he spoke, voice a rumbling whisper. “Lie with me.”

Fluttering in your belly. Lie with Kylo Ren. You nodded, and he released you, slipping behind the other door. In his absence, you dropped your bag and wiggled out of your clothes, keeping your underwear on out of some desire to cling to modesty. Ignoring your quivering chin, you scurried under the black sheets of the bed, pulling them tight as you nestled into the mattress. His bed, like the one on the Finalizer, was pillow-soft and snug, your body melting into it when you curled up.

After a moment, Kylo returned, dressed in those tight, but concealing underclothes. It didn’t seem fair--you still hadn’t seen his body. Your heart raced as he pulled back the sheets and slid into the bed beside you, the lights dimming to a soft, dying yellow. The thought of being so close, so intimate with him in a scenario where his cock wasn’t buried in your pussy made your head dizzy, sweat wetting the back of your neck.

“Still so nervous,” he said, running a hand down your side under the sheets.

You tensed at his touch--the skin on skin contact sending tides of goosebumps across you--and pulled your lips into your mouth. “Why don’t you ever take your clothes off?” you asked.

“Hmm?” he replied, trailing his hand back up.

“Your clothes,” you said, turning to look at him. His face was blank, eyes flicking over you. “I’ve never seen your body, but you’ve seen all of me.” You reached to touch him, but his hand was lightning, snatching your wrist.

“Naughty pet,” he said. He rolled over on top of you, supported by his forearms, now on either side of your head. The heat and weight of his body was already suffocating, and the thick curtain of his hair fell in front of his face, his curls tickling your cheeks. “Don’t make me punish you.”

A thrill lit your spine. There was a portion of you wanting to know what he meant by that. “That doesn’t really answer my question though,” you said. Again, you reached for the hem of his top, but the Force locked your wrists to the bed.

“I won’t ask you again,” he said. The playful lilt in his voice was gone. “You see what you deserve to see.”

“I think I deserve more than that, though,” you replied, pouting.

He narrowed his eyes. “I’ll show you what you deserve.”

Kylo leaned in and met your lips with a scorching kiss, hips slamming on yours, his hard length far more evident under the thinner, more forgiving cloth of his undersuit. It slid along your covered sex, grazing your clit. Surprising yourself, you moaned into him, hips rising as you worked your mouth over his. Your tongues were angry, twisting around each other, and as the kiss deepened, he began to rock against you, grinding his arousal into the crux of your thighs.

You groaned, low in your chest, wishing your hands could move--you wanted to touch him, learn his body, discover every muscled inch of him. Instead, you were at his mercy, his lips still on yours, your hips still grinding together, friction generating a burning warmth between you. His tongue delved further into your mouth, elbows shifting to bring his hands near enough to weave through your hair. The feeling of his bare hands gripping and caressing your scalp drew a desperate moan from you, body arching higher, seeking as much contact as possible.

It was at this point you’d expect him to escalate, but instead, he continued to massage your lips with his; soft, gentle grunts leaving him while you both worked to catch breath through your nostrils, neither one willing to break the kiss. His hips stroked into yours with long, languid thrusts, your thighs spreading wider to welcome the pressure of his pelvis. Before, kissing Kylo had always been a means to an end--but this was different. You were content--delighted, even--to stay just like this, connected to him beyond blind lust.

When he pulled away, you’d wondered if he’d heard you, and you blushed. If he had, he didn’t show it--his face was blank, half-lit by the faint warm glow in the room, eyes searching your face. Uncountable seconds passed with him there, staring at you, the silence punctured by your breath. Then his hand moved from your head, gliding over your collarbone, your breasts, past your flittering stomach, to the seam of your panties, toying with it while he watched you.

“Kylo,” you whispered, attempting to turn your head in embarrassment, but his other hand caught you, tilting you back to him.

He said nothing, sneaking his hand under the fabric, fingertips petting the delicate skin of your mound, falling to stroke your folds and up again, finding your clit and teasing the hood. You squeaked, and immediately he shushed you, the hand in your hair foraging further to soothe you. Those brown eyes were aimed at you, examining every tiny spasm in your face as the circles he traced on your nub grew tighter, quicker.

Slow, steady air was drawn through your nose while you tried to stay quiet, body quaking with your building pleasure. Kylo Ren’s gaze never wavered, observing your orgasm rising inside of you, his own lips parting as your breath turned to pained whimpers of forced silence.

“How simple it is to make a mess of you,” he murmured. “I imagine I could make you cum just by looking at you.” He started to work your clit faster, eyes dancing over your body. “Desperate slut.”

You were powerless to stop the short staccato breaths rolling through you, your eyes stuck on his as your resistance crumbled, warm, pleasant tingles biting at your toes. Every moan, every whine was caught in your throat and choked down, your walls throbbing and pulsing now with longing. Kylo’s expression remained flat, studying you as you began to come undone.

“There we go,” he said, “that’s right.” Hunger flashed in his irises. “Do you want to cum, pet?”

“Yes, sir,” you gasped. “Please.”

His fingers quickened their pace, bringing you right to the edge, your grip on reality receding. “Cum,” he said. “Cum for me, little girl.”

Your jaw popped open in an empty cry, ecstasy overflowing every vessel in your body, bursting out of you as your back bent to the ceiling, meeting Kylo’s body halfway. His lips trembled while he watched you, gaze seemingly unable to leave your face, even when his hand finally released you. Exhausted, you collapsed onto the bed, lids closing to rest.

“For me,” you heard him whisper through the daze of your climax. His hand was cupping your face, thumb caressing your temple. “All for me.”

As the fog pleasure dissipated, you opened your eyes, meeting his stare again.

“More relaxed now, I’m inclined to gather,” he said.

Blood flushed your cheeks, and you nodded, looking away. “Um, yeah. I… yeah.”

Lying under him, between his arms, you felt close to him--important--something you’d never felt before. Not with him. You sought to find reciprocation in the golden-brown depths of his gaze, and when you came up empty, your foolish mouth attempted to forge some.

“Hey, so…” A hand drifted down his chest. “Why do you have Darth Vader’s helmet, anyway?” you asked. Regret slapped you immediately. Out of all of the questions, that was the one you chose.

Kylo Ren’s jaw locked, his face darkening. Without a word, he pulled away, rolling onto his side and facing the wall. Clearly, not a question you were allowed to ask. But his reaction was creating more curiosity than you’d had before. It’s not like it was a silly personal trinket. It was the helmet of the Darth Vader.

The greater machinations of the First Order were irrelevant to you--and almost everyone you knew--they were the government, and that was that. Even so, you’d known Kylo Ren was a fearsome warrior--it’d been part of your apprehension of working the Command Shuttle in the very beginning. You’d even known that he was a powerful Force-user who’d slaughtered Jedi.

But all of that still failed to explain why he possessed something that belong to one of the most legendary, terrifying figures in recent history. You had to know. Needed to know.

“Seriously,” you said, eyes drifting to the ceiling. “Why do you have something like that?”

You could see his muscles solidify. But he was still silent. Stupidly tenacious, you reached to touch him.

“Kylo--”

“Continue to persist with this subject and I promise I’ll fuck that filthy mouth of yours raw.”

You frowned, drawing your hand away, lips pursed. “I mean, I’m not the one with a creepy mask in my quar--”

He’d spun in a blink, fingers curling as the Force tightened around your neck. “I warned you,” he said.

Kylo Ren got on his knees and straddled your face, his hard, needy length straining the fabric of his pants. With one swift motion, he released it, letting the tip rest on your lips as he gripped the sides of your head. The slit leaked pre-cum into your mouth, spurring you on, the memories of his cock filling you inspiring your tongue to dart out and clean the fluid from him. Your thighs clamped together while you stared at him with wide, eager eyes.

“Such an obedient pet I have,” he said. “Now be a good girl and take your punishment.”

He squeezed the sides of your head, forcing your jaw open, and he drove his thick cock into your wet, waiting mouth, hitting the back of your throat with his first thrust. You gagged, tongue straining against the throbbing vein on the underside of his shaft. Offering you only a grunt in response, his nails dug into your scalp while he jerked his hips, dick pushing deeper and deeper into your throat. A moan rumbled in your chest, and you clutched his hips, drool dripping from the sides of your mouth, sucking hard at his length.

“Shit,” Kylo groaned, teeth scraping over his lip. “That’s it…”

You purred at his praise, tears stinging the same eyes that watched his head fall back, lost in pleasure. At this, you worked your tongue along the pulsing shaft, jaw dropping wider to receive him. He tilted your head, fucking down into your throat now, your nose buried in the black patch of hair on his abdomen as he pulled you closer--you’d never seen that before. With this realization, you moaned again, and his hips bucked hard, earning a stifled retch from you.

“Fuck...” he said, sighing your name.

Kylo crushed your nose to him, sinking into you, cock pulsing as he shot his cum down your throat. He groaned--low, deep--head snapping forward to watch you take his seed.

“Swallow it,” he hissed, chest heaving, eyes feral. “Swallow it, whore.”

You winced when you swallowed around him, and he twitched and cursed with every ripple of your throat. Finally, his breath stilled, and he pulled out, moaning when his cock slipped between your lips. Able to catch oxygen yourself, you devoured the air, wiping your puffy lips and saliva-slicked chin on the back of your arm. Kylo hovered over you for a moment, gaze roaming your figure while he tucked himself away, and then dropped to the bed, tugging you onto your side to face him.

“Good girl,” he mumbled, switching focus from your eyes, to your breasts, to your lips.

His hand was on your face again, thumb circling the bruise on your jaw as he stared at it, blinking. In a moment you confused for a dream, he leaned into you, lips brushing feathersoft across the tender skin of your bruise. When he pulled away, he looked at you. Before you could say a word, he then eased you around, your back at his chest, his arms cradling you. Kylo Ren planted his face into the crook of your neck as he entwined his legs with yours.

You were sure he’d feel your pulse thrumming out of your vessels, the trembling of your hands, hear the baffled, anxious thoughts tumbling around your head. There was still another question that hadn’t been answered--why was all of this happening to you? Surely there’d been other women--

Kylo huffed against your skin. “Yes.”

Oh, shit. “Then why… I mean, I’m just…” You couldn’t figure out how to finish the sentence.

For a moment, he didn’t respond, and you were a statue in his arms. Then he replied, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t--you don’t--”

“Shh,” he said.

Kylo Ren drew you closer to his body, his hands grasping at your flesh as if you’d vanish. For him, this was a satisfactory answer--and the longer he held you, the more you accepted it, too. You felt his chest, steady with breath at your back. You weren’t sure when you fell asleep.

Chapter Text

Rays of white light pierced the windows on the ceiling, stirring you from your sleep. Following a period of half-dazed urging, your eyelids peeled open as you rolled onto your stomach. The mattress was empty. Cold.

You wondered if waking up in Kylo Ren’s bed alone would become a habit. In fact, you were surprised he’d left you alone again to begin with--but you guessed it hadn’t been trust so much as necessity. It was clear, in any case, that his quarters on Starkiller were pure function and little frill. This time, you had nothing to snoop through. You couldn’t decide if you were disappointed or relieved.

After checking your datapad--just enough time to get to work early--you changed into the spare uniform you’d brought. Then you checked to make sure the cover-up you’d applied the night before was still on your “love-marks” (it was) and crept out of his quarters, bag in tow. You were thankful that the superior officer you’d entered a bizarre sexual relationship with was so high-ranking that his quarters were practically secluded. For the first half of your walk to the docking bay, the only thing you encountered was stunning silence.

When you arrived at your post, you stowed your bag by your terminal and got straight to work. If you were lucky, you’d avoid talking to anyone all day and get some time to process what you were doing with your life. Between your whatever-it-was with Sam and your what-the-actual-fuck-is-this with Kylo Ren, you were kind of screwed--literally and figuratively. You liked Sam--a lot, really, more than a lot--but he was so… good. It seemed blasphemous to pursue a relationship with him after fucking (regularly) the Commander of the First Order.

Complicating that, you weren’t sure if you would be able to end your relationship with that very Commander. Would he even allow it? And another, better question was lingering in the pit of your mind, its existence frequently unacknowledged. Would you even want to?

A familiar voice snipped your reverie short. “Morning, stranger.”

You squeaked, but a warm hand on your shoulder consoled you. It was just Sam. “Hey there,” you said, hoping your pink cheeks didn’t give away your most recent train of thought. “What, uh, what brings you here? I know you have areas to check that aren’t mine.”

He was frowning. “Where’d you go yesterday?” he asked. “You disappeared on me.”

“Oh,” you said, “just had to take care of something.” You left out that the ‘something’ was Kylo Ren’s dick. “Sorry.”

“So, what was it that you wanted to talk about?” he said, folding his arms as he leaned against the terminal.

You chewed your cheeks. “Well, like I said, it was about you and me. And I was just feeling… I don’t know.”

Concern crossed his face. “What?” he asked. “What is it?”

Despite your overwhelming inclination to mention Minks’ affinity for him, you figured it’d be in bad taste to speak for her. You stared at your fingers while you fiddled with them. There was something embarrassing about admitting your jealousy. “You just seemed to be really, uh, hitting it off with Minks, I guess. I felt a little neglected.”

Sam’s jaw dropped. “Is that all?” he said. He took your shoulders in his hands, forcing you to look at him. Those blue eyes were stark, honest. “I told you before you left that my feelings hadn’t changed. I meant it.”

You blushed harder. Now you looked like an insecure weirdo (and, in the back of your mind, you figured you had no right to be, anyway). “Right. I know. I just. I don’t know.”

He considered you for a moment, rolling something over in his head. “Come here,” he said, taking your hand.

“Sam, I--”

“Come on,” he said. He was guiding you behind the flat panel of a TIE fighter wing, into the black shadow it cast over the wall. Here, you merged with the darkness, becoming ghosts to the rest of the bay.

Goosebumps popped as the hair on your arms went stick-straight. Your gaze darted between him and the floor, a sheepish smile fighting its way onto your face. “Sam, what… what are you doing?”

He didn’t respond--just smirked, tucking a hand behind the small of your back while he pulled you close, his lips meeting yours as his other hand fed into your hair. You’d forgotten how soft, how pliant those lips were, how perfectly they fit on your own. An elated warmth engulfed you, and your hands found his hips while your tongue found his mouth. He grunted into you, sending a thrill straight up your spine, and then you were stepping backwards, the two of you moving in unison until your ass hit the wall.

You moaned, and the hand in your hair pressed you into him, your tongues working together between his mouth and yours. Everything about him was so warm, even his desire, which flowed from him with passionate affection, rather than the furious desperation you’d grown to know (and, on some level, love). The fingers you’d hooked into his hips tugged them forward, and--perhaps to the surprise of you both--the evidence of his arousal was hard against your thigh. Sam broke the kiss, gasping your name at the connection.

Tempering your curiosity regarding his package, you swallowed. “Holy shit,” was all you could say.

His face was ruby red, and he shrugged--not necessarily embarrassed. “Thought that might help convince you.”

“Uh, yeah,” you said, blinking while you smirked. “Yeah, I’d say you got me, there.” You were resisting the urge to slide your hand down his pants and jerk him on the spot--good thing he couldn’t read your thoughts.

The clock continued to count down the minutes to shift-break while you two stood in the shade of the TIE fighter, staring at each other, the unspoken yearning for more privacy and more time heavy between you.

“Well,” Sam said, breaking the silence that hadn’t yet become uncomfortable. “You should probably head back, but I’ll… I’ll stay here. For a second.”

You bit back a laugh. “Is there a problem, Foster?” you said, glancing at his still-noticeable erection. “Too lazy to get back to work, or something?”

“Very funny,” he said, frowning. “I’ll see you after shift-change. Okay?”

“Got it, Chief,” you said, winking.

Walking back to your terminal, you flapped your hands like tiny wings, a squeal of joy welling in the back of your throat. Sam really did like you. He liked you and wanted you and he’d kissed you and you’d even felt him, and so what was stopping you from just making things offi--well. As you turned and spotted the Command Shuttle, your excitement was doused by a cold bucket of reality.

There was a reason you hadn’t made things official, yet. And that reason had shoved his dick halfway to your stomach only a few hours ago. And you’d just used the same tongue that’d tasted his cum to kiss Sam.

“Dammit,” you mumbled to yourself.

How long could you continue on with this game? By continuing to hook up with Sam, you weren’t just stringing him along some wire with an unknown destination.You were also, you feared, putting his life in danger. If Kylo Ren discovered what you’d just done--what you still wanted to do--you wouldn’t put it past him to make Sam a necessary casualty of his rage. Yet you couldn’t stand the thought of breaking Sam’s heart, or of putting your friendship in danger, either.

It didn’t seem fair. There was no future with Kylo Ren--and despite his bizarre, unpredictable moments of tenderness, you sincerely doubted he’d think twice about disposing of you were it necessary. Sam, on the other hand… Not that you wanted to seem obsessive or creepy, but you could see a future with him, a real potential between you. So the fact that you were on the cusp of ruining it just because Kylo Ren wanted to fuck you of all people… no, it wasn’t fair, at all. Resigning yourself to despair, you got on with your orders.

At the end of the work day, you spotted Minks, wiping her hands clean as she left her assignment. Your heart flipped. Trying to keep all of this a secret was only making things worse. If not anything else, you needed to tell her about Sam.

“Minks!” you called. If you weren’t sure she was human, you would have sworn you saw her ears perk in attention.

“Hello!” she said, waving. “I was just heading to the mess hall. You wanna come?”

You nodded. “Yeah, sure, sure,” you said, sidling up to her. “Hey, look. I gotta tell you something--”

She gasped, looking past you. “Sam!” she said, getting on the tips of her toes and flinging her arm high into the air as she waved. “Sam! We were just going to dinner! You coming?”

Dammit, Minks. Guess that conversation was for another time. Yet again.

“Yeah, sure!” you heard him say.

You spun to face him, grinning. “We’re getting to eat with the boss, tonight?” you said. “What an honor!”

Sam rolled his eyes, pinching your shoulder when he caught up to you and Minks. “Yeah, this will be a part of your performance review, too,” he said, winking.

Minks giggled--you could almost feel her cheeks turning red. “Hope I can remember the etiquette lessons from school!”

“There’s only so many ways you can hold a utensil,” you said with a laugh.

Despite your inner-tension, there was something comforting about arriving to the cafeteria together. The three of you, joking, smiling--a talented, well-oiled crew of engineers. You’d never been one to join clubs or seek out cliques, but this was one group you found yourself taking pride in. After locating something edible, you all plopped down at a table--together, casually, for the first time.

You spoke after taking a bite. “How’d your second day go, Minks?” you asked.

She nodded, swallowing her own food. “Just fantastic!” she said. “I’m just… I’m so happy and lucky to be working on Starkiller. I can’t thank you enough for believing in me enough to ask me over here.”

“Oh,” you said, unsure how to reply to her comment. “You’re, uh--you’re welcome. It’s not like you didn’t deserve it.” You shrugged.

“Always so modest,” Sam said, nudging you. He looked to Minks, grinning. “This one’s always known what she’s talking about.”

“Oh, I know,” Minks said. “I got to watch her work on the Command Shuttle a few times.”

“Pretty impressive, huh?” he said, winking at you.

A red fire burned your cheeks. You found yourself wanting to sink deep into the ground, or perhaps fall into the core and be eaten by the thermal oscillator. “Okay, okay,” you said. “Enough, guys. Change of subject.” You popped another bite between your teeth.

Minks smiled, nodding. “That reminds me,” she said.

In all honesty, it was your mistake. You should have listened to the black web crawling over your heart when she spoke. You should have shouted, jumped on the table, thrown something--anything to shut her up. You should have, rather than watching the verbal collision, intervened at any cost. But you didn’t. Instead, you were paralyzed, mouth full of tasteless mush, helpless to stop her blundering ignorance.

“How’s it going with that guy on the Finalizer?” came her words. They were knives, stabbing any camaraderie to a bloody, screaming death.

Next to you, you felt Sam’s body stiffen, his utensil suspended mid-bite, eyes boring through the plate in front of him. Watching him, your heart burst through your ribcage and into the stratosphere. Words still wouldn’t come to you. His head rose as if someone was cranking it up with a creaky wheel, sky-blue eyes unblinking.

“What guy?” he said, turning to you. If your heart hadn’t already ascended to space, you were sure it would have stopped, frozen by the ice in his gaze.

You were fumbling with your words, face and neck hotter than the sun. “Uh--uh, there’s… there’s no--”

“There’s that modesty again!” Minks said, grinning. She seemed to believe she was doing you a favor. “You know, the guy that you were hooking up with. He invited you over!”

“Yeah, you know,” Sam said, brow furrowing. “That guy.”

For once, you wished Kylo Ren was in arm’s distance so you could grab his lightsaber, shove it down your throat, and turn it on. “Uh,” you said. “Uh…”

“Got it,” Sam said, standing up with his food. “I gotta go. I’ll see both of you tomorrow.” He stalked off, barely stopping to toss what was left of his meal in the garbage.

“Sam,” you said. “Sam, wait!”

Your mouth was like sand, eyes tracking Sam as he disappeared through the mess hall door. The heat in your body had been replaced with a terrible, guilty, cold. Minks blinked, face twisted in confusion.

“What was that about?” she asked.

With all of the self-control you could muster, you glanced at her, reminding yourself that you’d been the one to orchestrate this mess. “Do you remember when I said there was another guy that I liked? You know, the great, sweet, nice one? Who also was hooking up with me?”

The realization hit her like a shot from a cannon. “Oh,” she said, face falling in horror. “Oh, Gods, no, I’m so sorry--”

“It’s fine,” you said, standing. “I gotta… I gotta fix this. Clean up for me. Thanks!”

Before she could respond, you bolted, turning and spying Sam heading down another hallway. Your feet were quick in pursuit, pulse pounding in your temple.

“Sam!” you shouted through your breath. “Sam, please, wait!”

He wasn’t stopping, but didn’t run from you, either. You caught up to him, grasping at his shoulder, whirling him by his shirt to meet you. His face was red, his fingers rolling in and out of fists. But this anger didn’t scare you. In his expression, it was plain, written in Basic with bold letters. He was hurt.

“What is it?” he asked, crossing his arms.

At first, you weren’t sure how to respond. Part of you wanted to just apologize and walk away--this is what you deserved, after all. But the idea of losing Sam--his friendship, his affection, the potential between you--was so devastating that you rejected it immediately. You had to salvage this, somehow. You’d figure out the rest later.

“That guy,” you said, wrapping your fingers around Sam’s arm. “He means nothing to me. It was a mistake.” Not necessarily lies.

He narrowed his eyes. “You should have just told me.”

“I was afraid,” you said. “I didn’t know what you’d say, what you’d think. I didn’t want to hurt you. I like you. A lot.” Distantly, you were aware your words were a shovel, digging deeper and deeper toward the center of the planet.

Sam was silent for a moment, looking from you to the floor. “I like you, too,” he said.

“Please, forgive me,” you said, taking his hand in yours. There was no acting required for any of this. You were desperate for his pardon. “I screwed up. But you’re the one who matters to me. I’m so sorry for hurting you, Sam.”

He swallowed, the muscles in his jaw loosening. “It’s--you’re okay.” Sweaty fingers squeezed your hand back. “I forgive you.”

His touch was re-igniting the longing from earlier this morning--the longing that had wished so openly for another time, another place. And its wish was in danger of being granted.

Without thinking another word, you pressed into him, your lips crashing onto his mouth, kissing him with enough force that he tumbled back into the hallway wall. Shocked--but not offended--he returned the kiss with gusto, hands sliding up your back and through your hair while his tongue moved into your mouth. You groaned, grinding up onto his hips, shivering when you felt him grow hard against you. This kiss was different than the ones before--it was sloppy, almost angry. Sam’s hands fell from your head to your shoulders, and he spun, pinning you to the wall, his arousal more apparent than ever.

It started as a breathless suggestion. “Come back to my room,” you murmured.

Yet, before there could be a moment for consideration, he’d already taken your hand, pushing you in front of him as a shield as you both scurried toward your quarters. Upon arriving, you floundered with the opening to the hatch, mind so caught in a flurry of desire that you failed to remember the last man you let into your room.

As the door closed behind you, Sam had your back against the wall again, mouth hungry for yours, hips rolling into you. With every movement, you felt his length digging into you, more and more urgent each time. Anxiety balled in your chest, and you pulled away from the kiss, gasping, lips and face tingling.

“Sam,” you said, “are you--are you sure--”

He sighed, rolling his eyes. “Never been more sure about anything.”

Blood rushed your face. “Oh, uh--wow.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Oh, uh, yeah.” He winked and pushed his lips onto yours again, sucking in a breath through his nose as he pulled you close.

You both kicked off your shoes while you began fidgeting at his uniform, working through each button and clasp with shaking digits. Sam kept his mouth on yours, and after you peeled open his uniform top, he was quick to shrug it off, then moving to help you with your own shirt. You’d never been more grateful for the existence of cover-up. In a blink, your skin was on his--without his top, he was warm, smooth, and his lithe, muscled frame looked better than you had imagined. His hands were greedy, sliding over every inch of your exposed flesh--but so were yours, fingers skating over his chest, thumbs scraping over his nipples, earning a moan into your mouth.

Excitement grew between your thighs, and you reached behind you to pop the hooks on your bra, slinging it across the room before your hands resumed their place on his face. You stumbled into him as you both collapsed onto your bed, finally breaking the kiss. Sam rolled on top of you, and his hands found your breasts, kneading them one a time while your hands moved toward the clasps on his pants.

You were dizzy with infatuation, your lust-addled brain failing to take time to consider the situation, failing to take time to remember where you were supposed to be at that moment. For you, the only important things were Sam’s lips, the heat of his body, the flicking of his fingers on your peaking nipples, the patient, aching length between his legs. If asked to count, you don’t think you’d be able to deliver an accurate answer as to how many times you’d imagined this exact scenario. But even all of your pain-staking fantasy detail failed to capture the reality of the blush on his cheeks, the taste of his skin, the way his blue eyes were swallowed by his pupils.

Sam leaned in to kiss you again, and before you could stop it, instinct took over, and you were biting his bottom lip, digits pulling at his blonde curls.

“Ah!” he said, shifting away. He gave you a lopsided smile. “Jeez, warn me before you go all predator on me.”

You blushed--however briefly, you’d forgotten who you were kissing. An unwanted thought you pushed away. “Sorry,” you said, biting your own lip. “You know me. I get a little into it.”

“Don’t apologize,” Sam said. “I like it.” His lips were back on yours, his tongue back in your mouth.

The hands you had on his pants were yanking in earnest now, and he reached down to help, shucking the shell of his lower torso down to his ankles. The sight of his member--red, needy--had you slipping your own pants and panties over your feet, your cunt throbbing to have him. Seeing your exposed mound, his hand swiped over your clit, and you squirmed underneath him, whimpering.

“Fuck,” you said, pulling away to catch a breath. “I need you.”

Your arousal spiked through the clouds--not in one hundred years did you ever picture Sam Foster wanting you, kissing you, touching you. He was so familiar, but so new, sending a heat and bliss flooding through your body that you didn’t know was possible. You spread your thighs, hands gripping that ass you’d so frequently admired, coaxing him toward you.

“You sure you’re ready?” he asked, not out of smugness, but concern.

The question threw you off guard, and you blinked. He was asking if you were ready? “Yes, yes!” you said, glaring. “Of course I am! Just get inside me!”

He smirked, covering your lips with his, and placed the head of his length at your entrance, opening you up with slow, careful thrusts. You groaned as he filled you, hips rocking with his to help him inside. When he buried himself to his balls in your pussy, he pulled away and hissed, face twisting in near-disbelief.

“Damn,” he whispered. “You feel amazing.”

Those words shot right to your clit, and your fingers followed, teasing yourself while he continued to rock into you. The faster your digits moved, the deeper the aching in your cunt became, and your other hand scratched at his back, the need for him driving you to a frenzy.

“Harder,” you begged him through your cracking voice. “Faster, Sam, please.”

If nothing, Sam was responsive, sinking deeper into you, the pace of his hips audible from the sound of slapping skin. You moaned, walls squeezing him while you rubbed your clit faster, pleasure rippling out from your center, your orgasm coming faster than you’d anticipated. The heat encompassing your body was overpowering, breath matching the approach of your climax. More than anything you wanted to hold on, to make the moment last longer, but your hunger for him was about to toss you over the edge.

Sam moaned your name, burying his face in your neck as his arms tried to hold you against him, thrusting deeper into you, sweat dripping between your bodies. A sharp intake of air preceded his words.

“Gods,” he said, spitting out your name again. “I’m gonna cum--shit--”

This was enough to push you over, and you cried out when you came, pleasure surging through you, legs twitching from the power of your orgasm, fingers still stroking in the gap between you. The pulsing of your cunt pulled at Sam’s dick, and he groaned, cumming hard inside you, his body jerking with the spasms of a much-needed climax while he filled you with his seed. For a moment, the only noise in the room was your heavy, declining breath. His arms wedged themselves underneath you as he rolled to the side, pulling you against his body, kissing your forehead.

“Sorry,” he said, cheeks still red. “It’s, uh, it’s been... awhile.”

“Oh,” you said. You didn’t care. You hadn’t even noticed. “I loved it.”

He chuckled through his still-ragged breath. “Good,” he said. “I did something right.”

Minutes passed with you in his arms, bodies sticking together, fluids seeping over your thighs. He was so warm, so tender. You could get used to being held like this after sex. You could get used to the sensation of flesh-on-flesh, too.

At some point, you both decided it was time to move, wobbling to the bathroom to clean yourselves of sex and sweat. You were careful not to touch the hickeys still concealed--though the sweat had begun to erode some of the cover. This was reason enough to throw your clothes back on, and Sam followed suit, apparently attributing modesty to your eagerness to remain clothed. The two of you sat on your bed, leaning on each other, still basking in the persistent post-orgasm glow.

“It’s still a few hours until lights-out,” he said, rubbing your thigh. “But, I was wondering--do you, I don’t know. Do you want me to stay over?”

The words were out of your mouth so quickly you were sure he felt insulted. “No!” you said. “No.” He was invoking your brain to consider the reality of what you’d just done, and you were frantic to stave it off. You weren’t ready. Not yet. “I don’t think it’d be a good idea for my boss to sleep over.”

“Yeah,” he said, nodding. “You’re right. I should head back, then.”

“Okay,” you replied, crossing your arms as he got up to leave. Tendrils of dread wrapped around you. Once he left, you’d finally be alone. You’d be forced to acknowledge your thoughts.

“Do you wanna co--”

“Yes!” you said, leaping from the bed. “I’d love to walk with you.”

Sam smiled, mussing your hair. “Cool. Let’s go.”

You nodded, and you both strode in step out of your quarters, into the hall. Though the walk to his room wasn’t long, you wanted to draw it out as long as possible, and you found your shoes dragging along the polished Starkiller floors.

There was a hectic voice in your head attempting to convince you that everything that was happening was just fine, no problems at all, no consequences you’d need to anticipate from what you’d done. Yet you couldn’t quite buy that argument, because deep down, you knew that the thought of Kylo Ren finding out wasn’t necessarily an “if”--it was a “when.” And more than your own self, you worried about Sam, and what Kylo might decide to do to him. The tendrils of dread had become tentacles, strangling you, churning your stomach, inspiring pearls of sweat at your hairline.

You’d been unsuspecting, so you were sure your heart stopped when you’d heard it. Your last name, echoing through the barrack halls, owned by a voice not all-the-way human. It turned you to stone, your feet rooted in their tracks, causing Sam to lurch as he turned to face your caller, too. The fear was suffocating, too much, you couldn’t bear to turn to him and see nothing but the empty, dead gaze of that mask. Yet you did, possessed by something greater than your fear. Defiance.

“Commander,” you said, unravelling every spool of courage you had just to speak.

Kylo Ren was already so close, and as blank as you forced your mind to be, you were certain he could still sense the fear radiating from you, sense it as if it were something he could snatch from the air. He said it again--your last name. “I believe you’ve been neglecting your assignment,” he said.

Sam was quick to defend you--the sweet, ignorant man--and he stepped in front of you, as congenial as ever. “Commander Ren,” he said. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Coming from Sam’s mouth, the words actually sounded sincere.

Kylo Ren must have caught something--an aura of affection from Sam, the twisted dark mass of fear and guilt from you, or maybe it was just the look on your face--because that black visor was trained on you like you were his prey. “This employee was ordered to complete a specific task,” he said. “This task has now been deserted.”

“Oh,” Sam said, “that’s stran--”

“Come with me,” Kylo Ren said, looking at you. “Now.”

Though your mouth opened, no words came out. Sam filled the silence instead. “Sir, I promise, I’m not aware of any special duties this employee has been neglecting. Any issue with the Command Shuttle can be directed toward me.”

“You’ll both be relieved to hear that this has nothing to do with the shuttle,” Kylo replied, and walked past you. “Come,” he said.

You sucked in a breath. “Yes, sir, Commander Ren,” you said. Hoping to play it off, you shot Sam a look of faux-confusion and rolled your eyes, as if to say here we go again.

Sam just didn’t know how true that was.

Chapter Text

“Commander Ren, I can--”

“Enough,” he said. He was feet in front of you, your legs racing to keep up with his long, furious strides.

A rock was crushing your chest. Though you were attempting to keep your mind as blank as possible, you were certain the terror--for your own life, but mostly Sam’s--was flowing from you in massive, frothing waves. And Kylo Ren’s fuming silence did nothing but exacerbate it. Your eyes were trained on the blur of tile in front of you. You didn’t need to look where you were going--you already knew.

When you arrived at the entrance to his quarters, Kylo Ren opened the door, and ordered you inside first. Arms folded, you marched in, and he was like your shadow, on your heels as you entered the bedroom. Your knees hit the bed and you turned, greeted with a wall of black robes obstructing your avenue of escape.

“You return here following your assignment,” he said. You could almost see the red anger rippling from his body.

Fear couldn’t continue to own you--it’d crush you. “So, I don’t get a life, then?” you replied, cocking your head to the side.

Kylo Ren failed to appreciate your snark. “Not if it involves him,” he said, stepping toward you.

You rolled your eyes. “What’s Sam to you? He’s just an engineer.”

“Yes,” Kylo Ren replied. “An engineer who you are trying very, very hard not to think about.” He was closer now. “Why?”

It was only a quick flash of doubt that shot through you. But that flash alone was enough to tense your jaw, shift your weight, and send a single incriminating thought through your brain. Did he already know?

His shoulders bunched, the blank mask tilting to the side. “What do I already know?”

The words were lasers through your lungs, crippling your breath. “N-nothing,” you replied, with none of the confidence you’d wanted.

“You’d do well to give up on lying to me,” he said, taking another step. His synthesized voice was sending chills over your flesh. “What did you do?”

The back of your legs hit the bed when you retreated, buckling your knees and flopping you onto the mattress. It wasn’t an “if”, it was a “when”--you’d said it yourself. You just didn’t think the “when” would be so soon. And yet, stringing together a sentence was stalled by your panicking brain, a decision that whittled away Kylo’s razor-thin patience.

“Don’t make things more difficult on yourself,” he said, towering over you now. “I’ll take it from you if I need to do so.”

A boulder was in your throat. Staring into the hole of his mask, the clock stood still. Part of you cursed yourself for being unable to control your impulses. The other part of you cursed Kylo Ren for putting you in this position at all. Why were you expected to give up every and anything you wanted just because of his selfish whims? Why should you sacrifice one of the most important relationships in your life for a man who wouldn’t even take off his clothes in front of you? A man who viewed you as nothing more than a fuck-toy?

But you didn’t want to have him rummage through your mind again. Eyes never leaving the void in his visor, you spoke, ignoring the quivering of your chin.

“We had sex,” you said, and swallowed the boulder.

You weren’t sure if the minutes that passed were as long as they had felt, or if adrenaline had struck the second you opened your mouth. Kylo Ren’s fists curled into shaking balls of black leather, and then he spun, robes whirling as his hand somehow grabbed his lightsaber and ignited it in the same movement. The fire-red blade screamed to life, sparks snapping off of the wobbling plasma. Gargled, inhuman howling came from his mask while he slashed at the metal walls in front of you, his body a dark, fluid swell of rage, slicing through any barrier that might hinder him.

The walls shrieked as his blade cut them, sending excess embers into the air and light streaking through the room. It was as if you’d become ethereal, a spectator to his erupting wrath, helpless to move or speak. He swung once, paused, twice more, and then his arm fell to his side, saber still prepared to kill. Kylo had carved his way through half of the wall, by now, the former panelling looking like a corroded, orange mess. The smell of smoking durasteel permeated the room.

His back crested with deep, heavy breathing, so frayed that you couldn’t discern if it was his mask, or the result of his exertion. Apart from this, he was motionless--until you let go of the air in your lungs you hadn’t known you’d been holding. His head whipped around, visor spotting you from over his shoulder, and for a long moment, he held you there, trapped in his gaze, the room illuminated by the red glow of his lightsaber.

Another deep breath, and he extinguished it, stowing it back on his hip. “Take off your clothes,” he said.

Your brain was torn between spite and reluctant arousal, immobilizing you. He was going to make you betray Sam. Again. “But I--”

“Did I stutter?” he said, turning toward you. “My quarters, pet.” Even through the mask, you heard his teeth clip the word short. “Take them off.”

If there was one other thing that you could curse, it would be your traitorous body, growing warm at the thought of standing nude in front of him. You hated that he had this power over you, the power to make your thighs shiver, the power to make your cunt clench at the mere notion of fucking him. Yet it was inexorable--just as he wanted to destroy you, you possessed a clamoring, undeniable desire to be destroyed.

Frowning, you clicked your tongue. “Yes, sir,” you replied, and rose from the bed, not a dash of fear on your face.

You started with the buttons on your top, slipping them open for the second time that day, staring straight into his mask, wanting to burn through him. When the last button loosened, you let your top fall from your shoulders, moving to unhook and release your bra, wiggling down your arms, letting your breasts sway. The glare on your face never wavered, even when you stepped out of your shoes and slid your trousers down your thighs.

Despite the mask, Kylo Ren’s gaze was almost tangible, sticking to every little movement of your figure. You looped your fingers through your panties, teasing the view of your pussy, and his feet shifted--almost imperceptibly, the only evidence of his change the gentle wafting of his robes.

“Take them off before I do it myself,” he said.

Nodding, you obeyed, pushing them down your hips and off of your ankles, thighs squeezing together again as you straightened your back, teeth chattering--totally exposed to him.

He approached you, every step deliberate, and even with his eyes hidden, you could feel it--he was drinking you in. You swallowed your anxiety when he stopped within inches of you, helmet tilting as he took in the sight of your body. Leather palms skimmed over your hips, up your waist, grazing the sides of your breasts, until one stopped at your chin, pinching it, angling your face toward him. You gazed into that black window, so hypnotized by the pull of his stare behind the mask that you didn’t even notice when his other hand reeled back to land a harsh, sudden smack on your ass.

“Shit!” you said, lurching into him. The pleasant sting it left behind elicited a contraction from your walls.

Kylo Ren growled, digging his digits into the flesh of your backside. “Get on the bed. Hands and knees, so I can see that filthy cunt.”

You choked back the aroused whimper that dared to form at his words, and nodded, climbing onto the bed on all fours, shuddering when you bent your back to further reveal your sex. Kylo sidled up to the edge of the mattress, warm gloved hands stroking up the twitching backs of your thighs. He smoothed over the round curve of your ass, soothing the spot he’d just hit, sliding up your back, and then down. There was a brief pause before he spanked you again, the sharp bite of leather cracking hard along your sensitive flesh.

“Shit,” you repeated, but this time the word left your mouth in a moan.

“You like that? Hm?” He landed a quick blow to the other cheek, earning another pained moan from you. “The nasty little whore likes to be punished, doesn’t she?” Another spank when you didn’t respond, and you yelped. “Doesn’t she?”

“Mm--yes, Commander,” you replied through gritted teeth. The skin on your ass was buzzing.

“Yes, she does,” he said, and dragged two leather fingers along the pulsing, wet lips of your sex. “Disgusting slut. Cum leaking from your pussy, and you can’t even tell me if it’s yours, can you?”

Hot shame washed over you. Was this his angle the whole time? “Why don’t you taste it and find out, Commander?”

Before you could breathe, you were flung into the adjacent wall, limbs pinned in a five-point-star, the impact knocking the air from your lungs. You groaned, shaking away double-vision. There was only a moment between gaining clarity and the pressure of the Force around your neck, drawing strained gurgles from your throat. Kylo Ren stood in front of you now, shaking hand extended, leather digits curled.

“At my mercy, and still you defy me,” he said. “When will you learn who you belong to?”

Wheezing at the Force-grip, you spat out your reply. “I don’t--I don’t belong to... anybody!”

One step brought him to your face, metal muzzle inches from your nose, palm almost on your neck. “I own your body. I can make it do anything I want.”

The pressure on your throat disappeared, and you gasped for air, but the relief you felt was short-lived. Kylo had pulled out his lightsaber again. It was clear he had no intention of turning it on.

Cold metal swiped over your sex, your juices glazing the pommel. You sucked in a short breath as he inched it forward, moving up over your mound, hard ridges of the metal brushing the delicate hood of your clit. Walls pulsing in response, you whimpered, wanting to jerk your hips away--but every muscle below your neck was paralyzed by the Force.

“I can make you cum without even touching you,” he said. The mask was in your ear now, the synthetic voice rolling over your skin.

“No,” you replied, frowning, knowing he was right. “You’re wrong…”

Kylo pulled away, considering you for a moment while the lightsaber slid back down to your entrance. “We’ll see.”

The mask’s gaze was blank as the saber pressed against you, turning back and forth over your aching, wet entrance. You winced when he pushed, twisting it like a screw into your core, and you cried out, walls clenching hard around the icy, inflexible hilt. Pointed ridges split you open, your whines morphing to moans as the weapon burrowed deep inside you, stretching you to a bliss you had forgotten was possible.

“Fuck,” you whispered, catching breath to smother your escalating arousal.

“That’s right,” he said, taking a step back to admire his work. “How perfect you look with my weapon inside of you.” He sunk down onto the bed, feet wide, elbows on his knees while he observed you. Like a predator. “I wonder how you’d look riding it.”

You groaned again, your cunt throbbing around the hilt, working hard to draw it deeper--but it was no use. The saber remained still, buried inside of you, making you ache for friction. Kylo watched you struggle for a moment before clicking the latches on his helmet and placing it onto the floor in front of him. His amber eyes stared at you, face unflinching, and the lightsaber began thrusting into you, aided by nothing but his own power.

“Gods,” you groaned. The ridges of the pommel dug into your walls, sending tides of desire through you, reaching to your toes, making your clit beg for attention.

“Is this what you want?” he said. You saw his fingers twitch, and a delicious, familiar pressure was on your nub, flicking it back and forth, forcing another hard clench around the hilt.

“Yes!” you said. “Please!”

He stopped, and you whined. “Yes, please?” It was a prompt.

A frustrated grumble echoed in your chest. “Yes, please, Commander Ren.”

“Much better,” he replied, and the pressure returned, circling your clit, sending warmth flooding through your body.

“Shit,” you said, head falling back to the wall as pleasure coursed through you.

There was a battle roaring inside of you. Deep down, you knew he was right--he could make you cum right now if he so wanted--and the thought drove you mad. You wanted so badly to remain faithful to Sam--to turn your thoughts to him. But Sam wouldn’t--couldn’t--give you what Kylo was giving you, couldn’t take you to heights unknown, couldn’t make you cum by barely lifting a finger. The thrusting of the saber into your cunt and the tightness balling in your tummy was disintegrating that resolve to prove Kylo wrong. You could see yourself cumming hard around his weapon. And you wanted it.

“Look at you,” he said, “so desperate for cock that you’d cum on my saber. You’d let anybody fuck you, wouldn’t you?”

You shook your head, cheeks on fire. “No, no!” you said.

He snarled, and the lightsaber slammed into you, pounding against your cervix, making you wail in pain. “Yet here you are in front of me with another man’s cum dripping from your cunt.”

The Force around your clit sped up, dragging you to the edge, and your breath hitched, body tensing in anticipation of your orgasm. You were whimpering, lids closing, mouth falling open as pleasure surrounded you. He was right--there was no use fighting it.

“Oh, fuck, Commander,” you cried, chest heaving. “I’m--I’m--”

Your groans were cut short as the Force dissipated, and the saber stopped thrusting, leaving you pulsing, aching--rolling back down the hill of your climax. Frustrated, impatient growls shook you. No--you didn’t want to do this again.

“Oh, did you want to cum?” he said. A single stroke from the invisible hand, and you squeaked. He stood, advancing on you--and you could see it now. Glowing cinders of barely-leashed fury, deep in the pools of his honey eyes. “You think you deserve to cum? After what you’ve done?”

He was shaking--it was clear he was resisting every urge to touch you--and his digits curled again, the fluttering Force returning to your clit. You moaned, biting your lip, your walls squeezing and throbbing around the girth of his saber. The closer to the peak you came, the tighter you clamped down, driving the bumps on the hilt deeper into your flesh.

“Commander, please,” you said, fighting to buck your frozen hips on his weapon.

He shushed you with such severity you’d thought he’d hissed, and so you were silent, jaw locking as your climax ballooned. Those eyes were scrutinizing you, reviewing the memories of your face when you’d came the night before. When you were at the tipping point, breath rushing through you, ecstasy waiting to explode from your clit--he stopped again, deserting you at the edge.

You wanted to cry out, but the vengeance in his gaze snuffed your voice. The weapon inside of you resumed thrusting, your neglected clit throbbing with need. Kylo was sucking in breath through his nose, still shaking as he watched you, the hand that wasn’t controlling the Force palming the bulge in his pants like an afterthought.

“Pathetic little thing,” he said, brown eyes scanning your blushing, trembling body. “Am I not enough for you? Are you so insatiable you need to fuck any man who pays you attention?”

Not wanting to speak, you shook your head.

“No?” he said, and swung his gloved hand back to spank your pussy. You squealed at the physical contact, bolts of pleasurable pain shooting from your swollen clit. “Then why?” His eyes were wide with an emotion you’d never seen from him--desperate, livid.

The Force was back on your nub, launching you back toward your climax, saber slamming into you now, and you throttled your moans, your gaze never leaving his. You were so ready to cum that you neared the breaking point almost instantly, overwhelmed from the sensation of his lightsaber tearing into you while your clit was ravaged by his will.

Your breath was uneven now--you were so close, cheeks and forehead shiny with sweat, beads sliding down your lower back. It was going to happen, finally, you felt it coming, if only--

When he inevitably stopped, you shouted. Your body begged you, pleaded with you to cum, every nerve drawn to its limit, about to fracture from the strain. Your breath was rough and hungry, and your head fell back, lids shut tight.

“Kylo, please!” you said.

Something snapped in him then, the dam on his anger shattering, and his lip furled as he grasped your neck--hard. “I don’t remember saying you could talk,” he said, ripping the lightsaber from your cunt, making you wail again. Growling, he lifted you and tossed you onto the bed.

With the control over your limbs returned, you squirmed on the sheets, sitting up on your palms. You were able to focus fast enough to see the saber screech back to life, the flickering red edges shoved straight into your face, the heat of the blade licking at your chin and neck. At the other end of the crackling plasma, Kylo Ren’s face was taut with twinging muscles, jaw firm, his eyes still wide, still tormented.

“Why?” he said again. “Why?”

You were used to Kylo’s destructive temper--but this was something different, something raw, something behind the veil of rage. He wasn’t just angry, you knew. There was legitimate confusion, legitimate pain--just as you’d seen in Sam’s eyes only hours earlier. Only if Sam’s were a storm, then Kylo Ren’s were a tempest--churning with unhinged, vicious anguish.

With a lightsaber in your face, though, your sympathy reserves were depleted. You sneered, brow furrowed. “What do you have to be upset about?” you said. “You’ve got everything you want.”

He was silent--holding something back. You continued.

“You want to know why I fucked Sam? Because he fucking cares about me! Because he fucking gives as much as I do!” It was too late to stop you, now. “You won’t talk to me, you won’t even take your fucking clothes off in front of me! Why the fuck would I keep an agreement with someone who does that? I'm not a person to you! I'm your sex-toy!”

The room was still, filled only with the angry buzz of Kylo’s lightsaber. He stared at you, teeth grinding, chest expanding with deep, sharp breath. You held fast, your glare unyielding, his sheets balling in your fists. In the back of your head, you wondered why he hadn’t decided to decapitate you right then and there--but past the reflection of the blade in his eyes, you saw something. It was that something you’d seen so many times before, an emotion that you hadn’t been able to name. It was dawning on you that he wasn’t able to name it, either.

With a dying trill, the blade vanished, and Kylo tossed it to the side, watching your face. The ability to breathe and stretch returned with the saber away from your neck, but you didn’t want to move, your gaze tied with his. For a moment, you forgot how you looked--naked, sprawled on his bed, sweat glistening from your skin--everything that wasn’t his face crumbling away.

He held out a hand, and without a word, you were drawn forward from the bed, onto your feet. Standing in front of him, you were so defenseless--his size, his power overwhelming, just as they’d been the day you’d first met him. But this time you weren’t afraid. You were confused. His face was blanker than his mask, every hint of emotion wiped clean.

Still silent, he took your wrist, and your breath caught in your throat, heartbeat thrumming in your ears. With eyes still trained on yours, he moved your hand to the latch on his belt, long gloved fingers hooking it behind the lock. You swallowed, chin quavering as he guided the pads of your digits over the release and forced you to press them, letting the belt unlock and fall loose onto the floor.

Now the bottom of his robes hung open, but you couldn’t bring yourself to look. Kylo kept hold of your hand--you’d never noticed how big his hands were compared to yours--and them up to his cowl, curling your fingers around it and pulling your arm up to remove it from his shoulders. Due to his height, you caught him ducking to make up for the length of your reach, and your face burned red.

The cowl was discarded to the floor, and he took your other hand and placed them on the fasteners of his outer robes, holding them there, his shoulders falling in a quiet sigh as you began to work on undoing them. You bit your lip to assuage its quivering, thighs squeezing together when you took care of the final fastener. He gripped your hands again, helping you pull the outer layer from his shoulders, the only movement on his face the blinking of his soft brown eyes. A muted shuffle broke the silence as the robes crumpled to the floor.

You took another slow breath--he stood in front of you in his padded armor, now--and the leather of his large hands enveloped your knuckles, dragging your digits to the clasps on his armor. As he led you through unhooking each one, you studied his face. The tempest in his gaze had withered now, but the way he regarded you wasn’t a way you’d ever seen. There was a vulnerability, clouded with layers of anger, of fear. His cheeks were flushed pink, as were his lips--and you shuddered, remembering what it had been like to kiss them.

His armor was on the ground before you’d finished counting the moles on his face--you wanted to draw your mouth over every one of them--and now he was gliding your hands down to his trousers. They were leather, tight around his strong thighs. You gasped as he had your fingers graze over his hard, noticeable bulge, goosebumps running over you. Then he maneuvered you through the process of loosening his pants, and for a moment, he released you, pulling his boots off and kicking them to the side.

With that completed, he took your hands again, bending your digits into the sides of his trousers and helping you tug them down his thighs. When it was too low for your arms to stretch, he removed them himself, shucking them off into the growing pile of his robes.

In only his underclothes before you, he once more took you in his firm, warm grip. He slid your hand over the tent in his underclothes--more pronounced now without the compression of leather--and when you brushed over it, his cock throbbed. Yet his face was still inscrutable, even as he rolled your fingers into the hem of his undershirt and rose up, revealing inch by inch his pale, muscular flesh.

Your eyes left his for the first time, raking over his body, salivating as it was revealed to you, more tantalizing, more perfect than you’d even imagined. He placed your palms on the expanse of his chest while he removed the rest of his shirt, muscles tensing with the movement of his arms. There was a pause--he was waiting for you to look at him--but you were preoccupied with memorizing every scar, every mark, branding his image into the coils of your brain.

A leather hand tilted your chin back to his gaze, and he wiggled the tips of his gloves against your teeth, looking at you, knowing he needn’t say a word. Catching another lost breath, pulse pounding, you bit the tips of his gloves as he used your jaw to pull his digits free. After both gloves were removed, they joined the pile, too, and now the only thing that remained were the long, black coverings on his legs.

You were hypnotized by the faint trail of dark hair leading beyond the fabric--you wanted to strip him naked right then and there. Yet you let him show you--his smooth, calloused hands clinging to yours while he ran your thumbs along inside of the hem, abdominals hardening as you brushed over the sharp lines of his groin. You didn’t even notice your teeth breaking the skin on your lip until his grip tightened and he yanked the fabric over his hips, his massive cock springing free. Staring at it--tumescent, twitching, the head gleaming with pre-cum--every muscle between your hips pulsed, body flooded with hot, heavy lust.

A few movements, and he was fully nude--just as you were--and you were starving for him. So enraptured by his beauty, you were speechless, frozen, until he grabbed your hand a final time, wrapping it around the needy, hard length of his dick. You shivered, feeling it throb under your fingers, and glanced back up at him. Hunger seeped into his pupils, and after leading you through the first few strokes, he released you, leaving you to your own inclinations.

You swallowed thickly, your breath catching in your throat, lips parting while you jerked him faster, cunt aching as you felt every vein, every rigid bit of him gliding under your touch.

“Tell me what you want,” came his voice at last, breathy with the weight of desire.

“I want you to fuck me, Kylo,” you replied, anxiety straining your throat. “Please.”

He growled, snatching you by the hips, hoisting you up and slamming you into the wall. You groaned, wrapping your legs around his waist, wanting to touch as much of his skin as possible, needing to feel his naked warmth against you. Kylo nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, the crescents of his nails nipping at the flesh of your thighs while he angled himself at your wet, wanting core. A moan left you, your own nails scraping at his back as he braced himself before ramming deep into your cunt--and that moan became a cry.

“Fuck,” he whispered into your ear, hips setting a savage pace from the start. “This is mine… this--fuck--this belongs to me…”

Words evaded you as the thick haze of pleasure fogged your mind, your body liquefying against him. Incoherent babbling--blended with groans of bliss--were the best you could do. He increased his speed, and the earlier denial had your clit demanding its release as you bounced on his dick, your walls tight around him.

“You’re mine,” he continued, mumbling your name. “I own--own you--do you understand?”

When you didn’t respond, his fingers dug deeper into your thighs, voice growing louder, wrought with pain. “Answer me, whore!” he said, fucking you harder. “Tell me you’re mine. You’re--you’re mine--mine!”

“Kylo, I--”

“No one else can have you!” he said. Something was wrong. He was crushing you into the wall, his thrusts erratic--vicious. “No one! Do you--fuck--”

“Kylo, plea--”

“Fucking slut,” he hissed. He sounded as if he were in agony. “No one will ever fuck you like I can.” He moaned into your neck, gasping for air as he pounded you. “Fuck! I’m going to--I’m going to ruin this little cunt--”

That’s when you felt it: wetness at your neck, not from his mouth--from his face. His groans into your skin were broken, tormented, a sound like you’d never heard coming from him. You realized it then--he was sobbing.

The Force was at your clit--unstable, rough--and you groaned, rising to the peak of your climax like you’d never left, your cunt pulsing and clenching around his cock in need.

“You want to cum?” he said, breath hot on your flesh. He was moaning, panting at his own words. “That little pussy wants to cum on my cock?”

He was going to send you over the edge, talking like that. “Fuck! Yes, Kylo, yes!” You could barely choke out the words between the force of his thrusts.

“Tell me--fuck--tell me who gets to fuck this pussy!” he growled.

“Only you, Kylo!” you cried.

His voice was torn with pain. “Tell me who you belong to!” His cock was plunging harder, sinking deeper, stretching you apart.

You whined, body at the breaking point, ready to erupt with ecstasy. “You! I belong to you!”

"Then cum for me, little slut,” he rasped into your flesh.

“Fuck!”

You clamped down on his swollen length, your orgasm cleaving you in half as you shook with euphoria, heat and pleasure tearing all the way to your fingertips and toes. Kylo keened as he drove into you with a final thrust, cum spilling into you, hips snapping while he convulsed with the tremors of his falling climax. The room was spinning, your bodies stuck with sweat, every breath of air too hot, too thick with sex. Kylo’s face was still nestled into your neck, and, exhausted too, you planted your cheek on his shoulder, hands smoothing over the planes of his back.

It was a long moment before either of you moved. You felt the hammering of his heart against your chest, the tremble of exertion in his arms and legs, and you sighed, wanting to meld yourself into his skin, become even closer than you already were. Kylo grunted as he pulled you off his cock and the wall, still gripping your thighs as he held you close, walking with you wrapped around him to the other room. You watched from over his shoulder as his bedroom disappeared, the smell of eroded metal still faint in the air. He supported you with one arm while he made his way through the hatch into the bathroom, keeping you tight to his body while he entered the settings for the shower.

You were dizzy with infatuation, drunk on how careful he was being with you--so much so, that when he placed you on the ground, you stumbled, and he held your hips to keep you steady. He urged you into the stall of the shower first, and when the hot water hit your muscles, you almost went limp against the tile.

“Whoa,” you mumbled, slumping into the wall.

Kylo was in front of you, damp tresses of dark hair plastered to his red, wet face. He reached up, stroking your jaw, his bloodshot gaze consuming you. You hadn’t realized that your mouth had parted in awe until he leaned in and skimmed his lips over yours. When he pulled away, his face was blank.

Again, you both were locked in another long, wordless stare as the jets of the shower beat your bodies, chipping away the stress, the fluids, the tension. In the moment, it didn’t matter how beautiful he looked, how perfect his figure was when rivers of water were running over his muscles, his scars. He was your universe, and you were burning in the supernova of his eyes.

At some point--your brain was lost in a flurry of disbelief--the water stopped, and he wrapped you in a warm, fluffy towel, slung his arm under your legs and pulled you against him. He carried you like that to his bed, setting you on the mattress as if you had hollow bones. Kylo Ren had you completely and totally enamored--you couldn’t take your eyes off of him, bursting with warmth when he slid next to you, cradling you to his broad, powerful chest.

Swallowing your apprehension, you snuggled closer, nestling your head onto him, cheeks vibrating with every beat of his heart. He was so big, and in his arms, you felt so safe--safer than you could ever remember feeling. His head rested on your crown, and you hid a secret smile. You’d been left speechless for what felt like the hundredth time.

“You’re not afraid,” he murmured.

His voice made you jump. “What?”

He tugged you closer. “You wanted to know why,” he said. “Because you’re not afraid. Because you apologized.”

"I apologized?” you said, more to yourself than anyone. The helmet. “Oh.”

“I don’t…” He paused, grumbling in frustration with himself. “I don’t--you can’t be with anyone else.” Another pause. “I need you to be mine.”

The thought made you shudder. But not from fear. It was his admission--you weren’t just his sex toy. There were things you couldn’t deny--how good he made you feel, and how mind-blowingly incredible the past thirty minutes had been. Getting fucked and then taken care of by Kylo Ren was light years in superiority to the pleasant--but plain--sex you’d had with Sam.

“O--okay,” you replied, inching nearer to his warmth.

Minutes passed with you snuggled to his chest, the room rising and falling with his slow, deep breath. He placed a kiss to the top of your head, and tingles ran over your scalp.

“Thank you,” he said. Your breath was stuck in your lungs, a small nod all you could offer.

The room was silent, dark, and he was holding you closer, caressing your side. Exhaustion eventually swallowed you, and you drifted to sleep, curled tight to his body.

Chapter Text

You woke up to the sound of the main hatch closing. The lack of light in Kylo’s bedroom told you that it was before dawn, but here you were, alone again. Blinking, your heart skipped a beat or two as you sat up in the bed--still naked, the towel from last night draped across you--and sought to make sense of the pitch-darkness flooding your eyes.

“Kylo?” you asked the air.

When no one responded, you slumped into the mattress, taking a few breaths to placate your rising panic. You weren’t sure why you were getting anxious--you spent time alone, in the dark, in your quarters all the time. And it wasn’t the first time you’d woken up alone in Kylo’s, either. Maybe it was the fact you’d felt so safe when you’d fallen asleep in his arms. Now, being without them felt empty. Cold.

Without a clock, you weren’t sure how much time had passed before you resigned yourself to staying awake--but eventually, you got dressed and slipped out of his room. Perhaps it was kismet. You needed to stop by your quarters before work anyway. Frost crystallized over your stomach.

Work.

At the thought, you wanted to spin around and beg to be let back in--maybe he’d hear you screaming from across the base and had a mind-code he could use, or whatever. Going back to work meant the inevitability of facing Sam. Though you’d made an official agreement with Kylo Ren the night before--you were “his,” whatever that meant, it’s not like he was boyfriend material--it wasn’t as if you regretted sleeping with Sam at all. You still adored him, you still could see a future with him. And who knows how long it would be before Kylo Ren finally got bored with you. Maybe it you just strung him along for a little bit…

Back in your quarters, you fixed up your hair and changed into a fresh uniform before checking the time. It was 03:56--earlier than you’d even thought, and it had taken you at least 30 minutes to return from the time you’d woken up. You wondered what Kylo was doing up so early. You wondered if he had even slept. A frown tugged at your mouth. Why were you worrying about Kylo Ren?

The thought bothered you through the quick meal you ate in your quarters all the way until you’d made it to your assignment (stupidly early, of course). Kylo Ren was the last person who needed someone to worry about him. The man had inconceivable power and experience--the ability to crush anyone, if he wanted to.

But you remembered the sensation of his tears falling on your neck. The lost, broken look in his eyes. There was someone hidden by that anger--that need for control, for intimidation. Just as there was a human underneath the mask, there was a person underneath the dominance.

The docking bay’s night-shift was wrapping up their orders when you arrived, but the exclusivity of your assignment ensured that your terminal was empty. You scrolled through your work orders, surprised to see a pre-flight inspection scheduled for the Command Shuttle. Was Kylo Ren leaving soon? Were you going with him? Maybe you’d be able to delay seeing Sam just a little bit longer.

Having a few hours to yourself on the bay was nice--you’d managed to diagnose an issue with a TIE’s ion generator before the start of the day-shift--but when you heard the morning crew roll in, your heart began doing cartwheels. You prayed Sam had items on his agenda that didn’t involve your area--and that those items were the first ones he needed to address.

Deciding it’d be best to avoid contact with anyone, ever, you crept onto the Command Shuttle. Now was just as good a time as any to begin your unexpected pre-flight inspection, and, hey, maybe you’d just happen to take the entire shift doing it, maybe you’d even be trapped in here until nightfall--

“Hello?” came a voice up the ramp of the shuttle. You knew the voice--it wasn’t even necessary for them to call your name before you identified them.

“I’m up here, Minks,” you said, groaning leaking in your lungs. You knew what she wanted. And what she wanted wasn’t a conversation you felt like having with her. Or, really, at all.

At the sound of your words, her footsteps flew up the ramp, and she emerged in a split-second, her long, blonde ponytail bouncing behind her.

“Oh my stars!” she said, lurching forward to clamp onto your shoulders. “I’ve been thinking about you all night. Is everything okay? What happened? Are you and Sam together? What about that Finalizer guy? Why didn’t you tell--”

“Minks!” you said, peeling her fingers out of your flesh. “I don’t really want to talk about it, okay?”

She shook her head, frowning. “Oh, no. You don’t get me wrapped up in all of this mess and then decide not tell me what’s going on! No ma’am!”

Dread spun a web around your heart. She was right. Maybe today was the day you’d start the long-overdue clean-up. Get Minks caught up. Be honest with Sam. Reap what you’d sown. All the good, moral stuff you’d been conveniently avoiding.

“Fine. Hold on. Let me…” You drew in a long, deep breath. Sweaty palms, you noticed. And your fingers were trembling. “Can we sit down?”

“Sure, sure,” she replied, plopping down on one of the passenger chairs. Her face contorted with worried expectation as you sat across from her. “So?”

You grumbled, shoving your face into your hands. Prying screws from underneath your fingernails was preferable to reviewing what you’d done in the past forty-eight hours. “Where to even begin?” you said. “This is a fucking mess.”

“Start from the beginning?” she said, shrugging.

The beginning? A reluctant sigh left your chest. “Okay. So. Sam and I went to the engineering academy together, right?”

“Right,” she replied, with a nod.

You swallowed. “So, like… I’ve liked him forever. But I thought the whole thing was unrequited, and stuff.” Another sigh. “Then this… uh, other guy. He was, like. Really. Aggressively, uh, into me. And so we got together a few times, or whatever.”

“That’s the guy on the Finalizer?”

“Uh… yeah.” You rubbed the back of your neck. “Yeah. So, like, yeah, he and I got together a few times, and it was… it was fucking amazing.”

Minks blinked, sitting back in her chair. “Oh. Wow. Okay.”

“But then it turned out Sam did like me. So then… we kissed, and stuff. No agreement, but, like. You know how it is.” Minks was urging you on with the roll of her wrist. “Uh, anyway. Go to Finalizer, meet you, get with that guy again, he’s an asshole, blahblahblah, then come back here and you tell Sam and then Sam and I get together last night, and then--”

“Whoa,” she said, holding her hands up. “Whoa, whoa, whoa. What do you mean ‘and then’? That’s the end of the story, right? You and Sam are an item now, everyone’s happy now, woo-hoo--”

You groaned, clawing at your face as your head dropped between your knees. Bille bubbled in your stomach. “Minks,” you said. “I fucked up. I fucked up.”

She blinked, mouth a hard line. When she spoke, her tone was gentle. “What happened?”

It wasn’t like you had to tell her that you fucked Finalizer Guy the same day. The heat of shame flooded up your back, into your neck--you were certain your ears were red. “I decided to be exclusive with, uh, Finalizer Guy,” you replied, stomach twisting into knots of guilt. “But now Sam thinks he and I are, like, a thing, and I still really like him, but I can’t keep sleeping with him, and I don’t want to hurt him, and, and--” Your words were coming faster than you could think them.

“Hold on, hold on, hold on,” Minks said. “You decided to be exclusive with Finalizer Guy? I thought he was an asshole and that you had liked Sam forever.”

“I did,” you replied. “I mean, and I still do.” You paused. This was the part of the tale that’d make far more sense if she knew Finalizer Guy was, in actuality, Kylo Ren. Until last night, you might have had her reaction, too. “He’s just…”

She raised an eyebrow. “He’s just what?”

How could you explain how Kylo Ren made you feel? It was something you’d never felt with anyone before--ever. Last night, in his arms, you’d been the only woman in the galaxy. Maybe the universe. “Well, the thing with Finalizer Guy probably won’t be forever,” you said, and grimaced at your own words. “I was thinking about just… y’know… stringing... Sam along?”

Minks gasped, spitting out your name as an admonishment. “You weren’t.”

“Ugh!” you said, folding your arms over your chest and turning away from her. “I don’t know.”

“You gotta tell him,” she said, leaning forward. Her face was determined, severe. “If not as a future boyfriend, then as a friend. He trusts you. Don’t do that to him. I mean, if you want to be with this other guy, then that’s your choice. But you gotta tell Sam that’s what’s going on.”

“But I don’t wanna,” you said, pouting. She was right--of course she was right. Admitting that she was right, though, was another hurdle entirely. “Can’t I just say that it was a mistake, or something?”

She rolled her eyes. “And then what happens when he hears about you being with some other guy?”

Ice ran through your veins. You hoped no one would ever find out what you’d been doing with Kylo Ren. But she had a point. “Fine,” you said. “Fine, fine. Fine.”

“Good!” she said, grinning. “Sam seems like a good guy. He doesn’t deserve that. So, just so you know, if you don’t tell him, I will.”

You glared at her. “I got it. Okay?”

She got up and rubbed your shoulder, offering you a sympathetic smile. “We all make mistakes!” she said. “We just gotta make the effort to fix ‘em, afterwards.”

“Right,” you said, feeling your stomach sink into your toes. “Right.”

By the time your shift ended (and you did complete the pre-flight inspection, dammit), you’d discovered Sam had already begun to make his way to the command center. He hadn’t even bothered to stop and see you. Excited to report to Hux, no doubt. The thought made your eyes roll out of your head. How was it that he was so congenial he managed to get General Hux to like him? Meanwhile, you had to suck the dick of the Commander just to get the barest sliver of recognition. And even that hadn’t gotten you the Chief Engineer position. Then again, it was probably best that you achieved career objectives through your own merits, regardless.

It was down the final hallway to the command center that you caught up with him. Memories of his naked body flashed through you, and you blushed--a blush that was sucked dry by the acknowledgment of your intentions.

“Hey, Chief!” you called, voice cracking, but he didn’t respond. You cleared your throat of its nervous phlegm. “Sam!”

He stopped, turning--recognition clear on his lips. They were curled into a broad smile. “Hey!” he said, holding out an arm to put over your shoulder. “How’s it going? What did Commander Ren want from you yesterday?”

“Nothing!” you said, a little too quickly. Disgust with yourself swept over you as you forced his arm down. You wanted to drop into an infinite hole. “Let’s, uh, keep it cool,” you said.

“Right,” he replied, nodding. He resumed walking, and you followed. The doors to the command center were closing in.

You sucked in a breath, swallowing the vomit at the back of your throat. “So, there’s something I gotta--”

“Oh!” he said. “Before that, I wanted to mention something to you. There are a couple of regulations for inferior and superior officer relationships. And I was looking over them--”

“That’s actually what I wanted--”

The words rolled from Sam’s mouth like a waterfall. “Wait, hold on, let me explain this. I was looking over them, and--good evening, officers--” The jerk even took time to greet the Stormtroopers as you walked through the command center doors.

“Sam, seriously!” you said, head swiveling to survey the center. Kylo Ren was nowhere in sight, but that didn’t stop your heart from preparing to leap out of your esophagus. “I really, really--”

He grabbed your hand, and simultaneous chills--fear, affection, guilt--shot over your skin. “But this is so important for our--”

It was now or never. “There’s someone else!” you spat, yanking your hand back.

Your volume had drawn the attention of a few heads at the terminals, the din in the room dipping for only a second to eavesdrop. Your cheeks were on fire, your entire body shaking as you watched his face crumble like wet sand. Sam’s mouth straightened to a firm line, angles in his skull sharpening in shock.

He blinked, and the room returned to business. “What?” His voice was as clear as clean glass.

“There’s someone else,” you repeated, quieter than a whisper. “I’m… I’m sorry.”

Sam was silent, eyes searching your face. You saw that storm welling behind his eyes again--cheeks ruddy as the muscles in his face twitched, holding back the flooding river of his emotion. “Why did you--why did we…” He blinked again. “Are you serious?”

You nodded, swallowing, knowing that another word would release your river, too.

His jaw stiffened as he averted your gaze, drawing a sharp breath through his nose. He glanced around the command center, foot tapping against the tile. “Why?” he asked, staring at the wall. “Is it that guy from the Finalizer?”

“Yes,” you replied, vocal cords snapping with shame.

Another breath, and the knot in his throat bobbed as he swallowed. There was a long pause--you saw his thoughts racing through his mind, behind the glowing blue of his eyes. Eventually, those eyes met yours, and you caught the tears at their corners.

“You’re suspended,” he said, stone-faced.

A flame of anger flickered inside of you, roaring to life on the kindling of your guilt. “I’m what?”

“I can’t reliably work with you right now,” he said, brow furrowing. “Better that you’re suspended until I figure out what to do with you. Re-assign you somewhere. Maybe you don’t even need to be on Starkiller.”

“Are you fucking kidding me!” you said. The second the words left your mouth, a familiar ringing pressure ripped through your brain. You wondered if your boiling anger was a spell that could only summon Kylo Ren--but you were too focused on Sam to look for him. “That’s bullshit, Foster.”

His eyes narrowed as he stepped toward you. “You know what’s bullshit?” he said, tone low and harsh. “When you tell me that you tell me I’m the only one that matters to you, have sex with me, then dump me. That is bullshit, my friend.”

Then you saw him--a black shadow over Sam’s shoulder, stomping toward the both of you. For some reason, you felt stronger with him there--as if he’d have your back, somehow. After all, he was the Commander. If anyone could fix this, he could. You hoped he knew that you were honoring his request--but given the lack of needles you felt from his gaze, you were assured that he did.

“Don’t you dare let your personal feelings mess with my career, Sam,” you said through gritted teeth. “Don’t you fucking dare.”

“You’ve certainly had a good time letting yours mess with mine,” he said. He didn’t notice Kylo Ren’s footsteps at his back.

“I didn’t realize we were holding engineering meetings in the middle of the command center,” said Kylo Ren, tearing apart the tension with the edge in his voice. Sam flinched, face falling. “Perhaps General Hux would like to join.”

Sam gathered his ruffled feathers and spun to Kylo Ren, tone harder than durasteel. “That won’t be necessary, Commander,” he said, leering at you. “I was simply informing this officer of her suspension.”

“Suspension,” said Kylo Ren. You could almost hear him turning the word over in his mouth under the mask, and you shivered. Just being near him had your chest tingling. It had something else tingling, too. “You’d suspend the engineer who works on my shuttle.”

“I understand your point,” Sam said, nodding his head. “I assure you, there’s an appropriate justification for my decision.”

There was no way Kylo Ren would let this suspension fly. You were certain he’d override Sam’s decision and let you return to work. Even he knew how much your career meant to you, now. “He’s full of shit, Commander,” you said, crossing your arms. Sam’s eyes widened at your choice of words.

“I’d advise watching your mouth, officer,” Kylo Ren replied. Something in his voice told you that you’d pay for that later, and you gulped. Maybe a little too casual. His fists flexed at his sides as his mask turned back to Sam. “Tell me your justification.”

Sam hesitated, eyes jumping between you and the Commander. His chest inflated with air before he spoke. “She’s had an inappropriate relationship with a superior officer, sir,” he replied. You felt Kylo Ren’s eyes lock with yours from behind his mask.

“I was unaware,” he said. The mirth in his words was subtle--you knew it was meant only for you. “Then perhaps a suspension is warranted.”

Your jaw dropped. “What?”

“I’m glad you agree, sir,” Sam said, shoulders drooping with relief.

He was going to let Sam suspend you? You wanted to rip that mask off of his head and slap his gorgeous face. How could you have fooled yourself into thinking that you had an alliance with him? Here you were, convinced that after last night, he’d stick up for you--protect you--but instead, he was cementing your misery for the next few weeks while you wallowed in boredom. Maybe that’s what he wanted. He wanted you to languish in his quarters, waiting for him, dedicated to his needs, and wants, and--

“In fact,” Kylo Ren said, closing the distance between you, “I may see to it that she receives an additional punishment.” Despite the laser-glare you had aimed at his visor, you couldn’t help yourself--you clenched.

Sam jolted in alarm, holding up his hands in an attempt to placate the Commander--there was fear in his eyes for what would happen to you. “Oh, no, sir, I don’t think that--”

“No,” Kylo Ren said. “No, I believe it will be necessary. For a violation this egregious.” He strode off, leaving Sam to fret. “Come.”

You cleared your throat. You wanted to kill him. “Yes, Commander,” you said. Sam was gaping at you in apology. You shot him a sneer before you turned, following Kylo Ren out of the doors.

Chapter Text

The walk back to Kylo Ren’s quarters was silent, save for the manic stomping of his boots down the corridor. This only served to fuel the rage bubbling inside of you--your face getting hotter, your stomach wrenching into thick knots. Between Sam’s vindictive suspension and Kylo’s unexpected approval, you were in a state of disbelief. Were all men looking to ruin your life--or just those two?

You exploded the moment the hatch closed behind him, words coming so fast from your mouth you were spitting. “What the hell is your problem?” you said. “What game are we playing, here?”

He didn’t respond, stalking past you into the bedroom as he removed his helmet. You growled, chasing after him.

“Are you seriously going to just ignore me?” you said. His back was toward you, which you were thankful for. There was still a portion of you that was disarmed every time you saw his face--even if the urge to slap it was growing stronger by the second. “I thought that getting revenge on Sam--”

Your sentence was cut short when Kylo spun on his heel and slammed you into the wall, urgent lips smothering your own. Against your will, you moaned into his mouth when his tongue slipped between your teeth, and he responded by pinning your wrists to the wall above your head. His kiss was growing hungrier, wetter by the second, but you were still sober from your anger. Grunting, you wrested your lips from his, wriggling underneath his firm grip.

“What are you doing?” you said.

He pulled back, meeting your eyes with an empty expression. “You’re mine,” he said, before turning your face back to his and crushing your lips again.

Whining, you tried to squirm away, but his strength was too great--between the hand on your wrists and the one on your chin, you were given almost no choice but to kiss him back. At least, that’s what you told yourself--despite your unacknowledged fury, your disloyal body was growing warm from feeling of his tongue sliding over yours, his frame overpowering you, his soft hair brushing your face.

His hands released you as his lips moved from yours to the line of your jaw, and you caught your breath, forcing the heel of your palms into his shoulders in an attempt to push him off--but to no avail. Instead, he’d begun working at the buttons of your uniform, hands more than halfway down your shirt when you’d realized it.

“What the fuck, man!” you said. He was sucking fresh marks into your neck, teeth nibbling at your skin. When his tongue ran over your pulse, you suppressed a whimper. “You can’t just fuck me out of my anger with you--ah!” A sharp bite to your shoulder while he flung your top onto the floor, and you shivered. “Shit!”

He was still silent, still determined--groaning as he kissed his way back up to your ear. Hot breath passed over your lobe, and you shuddered again, goosebumps covering you. When he nipped at your flesh, teeth grazing the shell, your lost yourself for a moment, head falling back and thighs clenching with hunger. Kylo took the opportunity to pull the straps of your bra from your shoulders and unhook the back. It was only after your nipples puckered from the brush of falling fabric that you snapped out of it.

“Dude!” you said, twisting away and letting him bite the air. You squirmed, but his fingers were embedded in your hips, playing at the hem of your pants. Frowning, you ignored the second anticipatory squeeze of your thighs. “Why did you let Sam--”

Kylo growled and covered your lips with his, again--a move that was becoming more and more effective with each iteration. Your arousal was reminding you how soft and full they felt on your own, how intoxicating his gentle, possessive grunts were, how incredible it was when his digits ran through your hair and over your tingling scalp. A moan echoed through you and into his mouth, making him suck in air through his nose and pull you closer.

Were you really going to let him win? He didn’t get to ignore the importance of your career just because he was horny, or whatever. He definitely didn’t get to sanction your suspension with no explanation. Did he agree with Sam, now? Were they teaming up on you? And now he was going to just fuck you like none of it mattered?

You snarled, ripping your face away and meeting his eyes with a glare of red wrath. He had been so swept up in your kiss that he didn’t even notice when you made good on your earlier urge and slapped him hard across his flushing cheek. Kylo Ren flinched, barely--were you really that weak?--his eyes regarding you with what you might describe as shock, if they weren’t so blank.

“Kylo,” you said, surprised he hadn’t started choking you. Maybe your audacity had worked in your favor, for once. Or maybe he’d actually remembered what you’d said the night before. “Answer me.”

His brow furrowed, and he pushed off of the wall, pacing away from you, shoulders crowding. When he turned back to you, his face was tight with frustrated thought, eyes searching the floor as if it’d give him the solution. You crossed your arms over your naked chest, watching his fingers curl in and out of fists.

“Your suspension will be temporary,” he said, words coming out slow, like syrup. “I currently have neither time nor interest in disputing his claims with Hux. It harms nothing for him think he has control over you.” His gaze met yours again, corner of his lip twitching. “You’re mine.”

The greed in his eyes sent a thrill up your vertebrae, but you ignored it. Resolution, first. “Neither time nor interest,” you said, raising an eyebrow. “Amazingly, the two things I now have plenty of. Must be nice.”

The crease in his brow grew deeper. “Yes,” he said. “I depart from Starkiller in hours. The issue will be resolved when I return.”

You blinked. You’d forgotten about the pre-flight inspection. “Oh,” you said. His words were a trough of disappointment, dumped on your animosity. You realized, then: you didn’t want him to leave. “Where are you going?”

Kylo hesitated for a moment, staring at you with a look you couldn’t quite identify, sorting through the flurry of thoughts in his mind. “To find something I need.”

“Oh,” you replied, swallowing. You weren’t sure what you had been expecting--but you deflated, dropping your arms to your sides. “How long will you be gone?”

“Enough,” he said, jaw tensing. He considered you with darkening eyes, lingering on your breasts, and sat on the edge of his bed, feet wide. “Come here.”

You didn’t move. Liquid desire trickled down into your abdomen--even still, you didn’t feel like the conversation was over. “What?”

His gaze narrowed. “Come here, pet.”

Getting more than an inkling of what he wanted, you slipped off your shoes and nodded, holding your breath as you made your way over to him. When you came closer, he leaned back to take you in--even though you weren’t entirely naked, and even though he’d seen your body a number of times by now--like it was the first time he was seeing you. His gaze roamed from your feet to your eyes, tongue wetting his bottom lip as he hooked a finger into your pants and pulled you closer.

“Good girl,” he said, voice deep with longing. His other hand came around to your backside and urged you forward until you were sitting on his lap, your legs wrapped around his waist, his hands gripping your hips. Brown eyes were drawing lines of fire over your exposed skin. “Don’t think I’ve forgotten about your little outburst in the command center.”

“Is this my punishment?” you said, holding back a smirk.

His palm smoothed over the curve of your belly, up between your breasts before weaving through your hair. “Yes,” he said, pressing his lips to your neck. “Your attitude is still in need of improvement.” His tongue darted out and slid up to your ear. “Among other things.”

“Other thi--”

For the hundredth time in thirty minutes, his lips silenced you, hips beginning to grind against your center--and there it was, his aching length, pressing hard into your heat. You gasped into his mouth, bringing your hands through his hair, your tongue exploring him while you bucked your hips into his. It was almost a relief to be able to touch him like this--to graze his scalp with your nails, to have his soft locks twist around your fingers, to feel his body responding to your own desire. The hand that hadn’t busied itself in your hair snuck from your hips to your breast, kneading it with a leather grip and circling a thumb around your sensitive, stiff nipple.

This brought another gasp from you, and you jerked hard into him, leaving his hair to pull at the cowl around his neck. Kylo hesitated before pulling away, dragging your lip between his teeth while he released you. You grinned when you tugged up and tossed his cowl away, bringing your lips back together while your digits fought to find the release for his belt. He grumbled, redirecting your hand, and you pulled back, chest heaving while you studied his face.

“I want to feel you,” you said, pushing hair from his forehead.

He flicked your nipple, blinking slowly as he looked from your breasts to your eyes. Without a word, he pulled off his gloves and unclipped his belt, throwing them to the side. You watched, lungs frozen, afraid if you made a sound, he’d change his mind--but when his hands started undoing his robes, you couldn’t resist, your own fingers working in desperation to get him naked faster.

After a few minutes of difficult maneuvering--between your positioning and his, frankly, ridiculous amount of layers--you sat back on his lap, the both of you entirely nude, his hands pulling your mouth to his. You marveled at how warm and powerful he felt underneath you, his strong legs supporting your weight with no effort as you rolled your hips on his lap. Without the barrier of clothing, his hot, thick length ground against the slickening lips of your slit, drawing quiet, submissive moans from your throat while he kissed you.

Your hands were preoccupied with exploring his torso--you wanted every bit of hard muscle, every white scar, every tiny dark mole to become home to your fingers, you wanted to be able to recall the broad planes of his body when you were alone, you wanted him to be yours, just as you were his. His hips jerked into you when your nails traced over his nipples, down to his well-muscled abdomen, stopping at the trail to his member, hard and throbbing at your belly.

Smirking against his mouth, you wrapped your hand around his cock--digits dwarfed by its size--and started pumping his shaft, drawing a low, deep moan from his chest. He shifted, hands leaving your face and burrowing into the flesh of your ass, snatching you toward him so that your skin was flush with his. You groaned into him again--you felt the pulsing of his member in your hand while you stroked him, felt your own sex swollen and dripping with need, felt your clit seeking friction from him--you needed him inside of your cunt.

Kylo pulled away, breath rapid, eyes wild when they met yours. “You know that good little sluts beg for what they want.”

“Fuck,” you said, his words flooding you with heat and making your walls contact. “Please fuck me, Kylo.”

He snickered. “No.”

“What--”

Kylo shoved two fingers in your mouth, depressing your tongue until you gagged, prying open your jaw so wide it clicked. “I never want to hear his name on this tongue again,” he said. “Do you understand?”

You nodded to the best of your ability, and he released you to let you speak. “Yes, Commander.”

“Good,” he said, replacing his fingers. “Even still, your mind is so busy with anger toward him.” His voice was quiet and severe when he leaned toward your ear. “I want your thoughts, your day, your world--to begin and end with me.”

A hot wave of lust crashed over you, another clench from your walls, and you whimpered, nodding against his hand until he freed your tongue again. “Yes, Commander!” you said.

Kylo Ren growled, burning wet kisses onto your throat. “How can I be so sure you won’t betray me again while I’m gone?” he said. He spanked you with his free hand, and you flinched. “Little whore.”

Crimson shame bloomed on your cheeks. So that was why he was waiting to correct your suspension. “I-I won’t, sir,” you said. “Uh, seriously.”

He spanked you again, evoking a yelp. “I’ll make sure of it.”

With both hands clutching your ass, he hoisted you up and lowered you onto his cock, hissing in pleasure as he sheathed himself in your wet, eager cunt. Your digits dug into his biceps as you groaned, pulsing and stretching around his thick length--Kylo always made you feel impossibly full, as if he were sinking into your body, working you open deep in your stomach.

“Fuck, Kylo,” you said, head falling back on your shoulders as he began thrusting into you.

He grunted, mouth attacking the exposed length of your neck and sucking hard at your pulse, drawing your skin up between his teeth, the pressure so rough that you winced. When he was satisfied, he moved to another spot high on your neck, groaning while he suckled, on a mission to decorate your throat with purple welts. The louder you whined, the harder he fucked into you, his arms flexing under your fingers as he bounced you on his lap.

“That’s right, slut,” he murmured, his digits pushing bruises into your hips. “Take your Commander’s cock.”

“More, sir, please!” you groaned, raking your nails down his muscles. He growled, biting the tender flesh of your shoulder while he jerked his hips to match the rhythm of his arms, pounding you with every thrust, pain and pleasure rocking you with equal force. “Fuck! Yes!”

Kylo groaned, almost drowned out by the lewd sound of slapping skin. “Greedy bitch,” he hissed through his torn breath. “You want me to wreck that little pussy?”

You contracted hard around him at that, clit throbbing from neglect. “Yes, Commander!” you cried. Your brain was swarmed with pleasure and lust--you weren’t completely sure what you were even asking for.

“Fine,” he said, and threw you onto the bed without hesitation, your body aching and empty without him inside of you. “Hands and knees.”

“Yes, sir,” you said, and obeyed, trembling with need while your fists buried themselves in his sheets.

You felt the mattress shift as he kneeled behind you, running his length along your your folds, the slick head of his dick brushing your clit while he teased you with lazy thrusts. His hands were back on your hips, rubbing up and down your thighs, stroking the curve of your backside.

“I’ve missed seeing you like this,” he said. “Bent over, so eager for me.” Two fingers dragged the wetness of your cunt over the rim of your ass, and you recoiled, eyes wide.

“Whoa!” you said, muscles rigid. “What the--”

“Shh,” he said, dipping back into your core and coating your ring with more of your juices. “Relax.” The sensation of his thumb tracing the circle of nerves made you clench--you’d never felt anything like it.

“Kylo, I--”

“Relax,” he said, prodding at your pussy with the head of his member. “You want me to wreck you--I will.”

Drawing in air through his teeth, he sunk his cock back into your warm, tight cunt, pressing the pad of his thumb into your ass at the same time. You squealed, squeezing around him, drawing him deeper inside of you, bliss rippling through you--you didn’t realize how much fuller you could feel from a single thumb. Kylo thrust into you again, wiggling his thumb deeper, and you moaned, clit burning for attention.

“Holy fuck,” you groaned, mouth dropping. “Kylo, that--”

You were interrupted by his other hand hooking your cheek and yanking back, pulling your jaw open and sending threads of spit down your chin.

“Who am I?” he asked, driving into you while he spoke, thumb moving further into your ass. You swallowed as you felt him pass the first knuckle.

“Commander,” you said--or at least, you hoped that’s what you said. The hook he had in your cheek was making you far less intelligible.

“Good,” he said, “good girl.” Kylo slid out and slammed into you, pushing his thumb in to the root, and you cried out, every muscle below your waist constricting around him. “Look at you--you love having me fill every one of your holes, don’t you?” Fingers pinched hard at the flesh of your cheek as he whipped your head back. “Don’t you?”

You nodded. “Yeth, Commander!” Blood rushed your face when you heard how pathetic you sounded.

“Of course you do,” he said. “Dirty slut.”

His hips were moving now--a steady, slow pace, cock dragging along the throbbing walls of your cunt, every squeeze reminding you of how stiff and swollen your clit was. It was torturous. You whined, bucking your hips toward him, but this only made him tug back on your mouth, spears of pain shooting over your face.

“Poor thing,” he said, voice struggling under the burden of his own restrained desire. “You need to get fucked, don’t you?” He pushed in deep, pulling out agonizingly slow as you clenched around him. “You need to cum?”

You groaned--you were starting to wish you had slapped him harder. “Yeth, Commander, pleath!” you replied, cringing at your voice.

He chuckled--you made a note that you certainly would slap him harder the next time--and stilled himself for only a moment. “Good girl.”

The next thrust was so powerful it nearly knocked you forward onto the bed--but Kylo steadied you between the fingers in your cheek and the hand on your ass. Instead, you felt the shockwave quake through your body, flesh jiggling, a wail of pain forced from your lungs. He was ruthless, now, his cock ramming into your cunt, splitting you wider with every savage thrust. You were only halfway cognizant of what was leaving your mouth--tangled streams of pleasure and pain paired with cursing pleas for more, wanting him to dig you out from the inside--but you didn’t care. You’d never felt so full, so complete in your entire life.

Under your warped cries of ecstasy, you caught his desperate, growling breath as he fucked harder into you, his own moans leaking out while his thrusting became more erratic. You whined in protest--you needed to cum so badly, you didn’t want him to finish yet.

He must have heard you, because the Force began to batter your clit, the bundle of nerves nearly shattering from anticipation at the first stroke--but you held fast, clinging to reality as long as possible, shaking, drool spilling like rivers over your lips while he wracked your body with animalistic force.

“Who do you belong to?” Kylo growled, hand leaving your mouth to slap you hard on the ass.

You whined, barely able to eke out the words through the building pleasure. “Fuck! You, Commander!”

“Who gets to make you cum?” he said, leaning over you to plunge even deeper.

“You do, Commander!” You were so close--your orgasm was winding tight in your belly, ready to consume you.

His voice was uneven, panting. “You want to--fuck--you want to cum for me, pet?”

“Please!”

Kylo reached around, adding his fingers to the Force on your clit--the double sensation had you spasming. “Cum,” he growled.

The coil of pressure inside of you burst, enveloping you in a hot, convulsing warmth--you were crying out, cumming hard around him, your walls clamping down on his dick and thumb, pulling him into your body as you pulsed and throbbed with pleasure. Kylo moaned your name, cursing through clenched teeth as he came with long, stuttering thrusts, pumping his cum deep into your pussy.

Both of you trembled and gasped while you descended from your climaxes--and as always, Kylo was the first to recover, giving your ass a light slap before he pulled out. You crumpled onto the bed, sheets cool on your burning, buzzing skin--you hadn’t realized he had left for the bathroom until he had returned, shuffling behind you while he pulled his robes back on.

Silent, you rolled to face him, thighs slipping together as his cum dripped from your core, and his eyes met yours, expressionless as ever.

Kylo stared at you before he blinked, looking away as he continued to dress. “My absence should be no longer than two weeks,” he said. “You will resume duties upon the Command Shuttle’s return.”

You groaned. “What do you expect me to do for two weeks?”

He was almost fully dressed now--he sat on the bed to pull on his boots, and his brow became a hard line. “I expect you to be a good girl.”

“But I’ll…” You paused, not sure if you wanted to admit it. Before the previous night, Kylo Ren’s absence wouldn’t have weighed much on your mind. Now, all you wanted was to fall asleep again while cradled to his chest. “I’ll miss you.”

Kylo froze as if he himself had been stopped by the Force. Your heart raced and oxygen caught in your throat--did you say something wrong? The time between your words and his next movement seemed eternal--seconds were minutes, minutes were hours, hours were something immeasurable. But really, you had no idea how much time it was before he finally turned and met your gaze, brown eyes struggling and failing to hide a shimmer of confusion.

He blinked again and finished pulling on his boots, grabbing your hand and leading you to the floor in front of him. Heat surged through you--he was staring through you again, stroking your cheek while he pushed errant strands of hair from your forehead. His eyes examined your face, like he’d find proof of something if he looked hard enough. But he must have come up empty, because his other hand enveloped yours as he pulled you to his lips, kissing you like you were made of glass.

Kylo’s lips were soft, tender, working over yours with a slow, subdued need. You felt it again--in that moment, you were the only woman in the universe, the only thing that’d ever matter, beholden completely and utterly to his every whim.

When he pulled away, your lids were fluttering, your chin quivering, unable to believe the connection you’d just felt swell between you. His shoulders fell in a sigh before he frowned, stepping away, marching over to the bedroom hatch.

“My quarters will be open to you,” he said. His back was toward you, his voice free from emotion. “Plan for a permanent stay upon my return.”

Before you could respond, he was gone.

Chapter Text

Your data pad’s alarm blared you into consciousness. The mandatory assembly was in one hour. Groaning, you rolled over in your bed and swiped it off. So much for your mid-day nap.

Even though Kylo Ren had told you that his quarters were open to you, you hadn’t returned to them in the week and a half since he’d left.There was the issue of half of the room being corroded metal, of course--but something about sleeping in his bed without him there felt wrong. It was too wide, too empty, too cold. You’d tried that first night, but gave up when you spied a strand of his hair on his pillow. It was too hard to fall asleep surrounded by reminders of him.

Wiping your eyes, you rolled out of bed and pulled on your uniform--that was something that hadn’t happened in over a week, either. You were loathe to wear it at all when not going to work, but showing up to an assembly in your sleep clothes probably wouldn’t endear you to the higher officers (not that an indefinite suspension could be extended). Before leaving, you grabbed a jacket. You’d forgotten one for the last assembly, and it had been so cold outside that Sam had given you his.

Acid burbled in your stomach. The other thing you’d spent your time doing over the last week and a half was avoiding Sam entirely. The mere thought of seeing him was enough to send your intestines into overdrive, but now, you were about to have little choice. Your assigned area at the assembly would put you within feet of each other. Maybe the setting would make the encounter a bit less awkward than you were anticipating… but maybe not.

You braced yourself when the outside air hit your face. The first thing you remembered noticing about Starkiller when you were first stationed was how damn cold it was. The hallways were cold, your bedroom was cold, the docking bay was obviously freezing. Over time, you’d adjusted--but you still avoided going outdoors as much as possible. That was where the real cold was. Biting, nipping, numbing cold. And you were about to stand in it for the next two hours. Or one, if you were lucky.

Shivers crept over your skin as you made your way onto the massive assembly plaza, crunching into a ball of desperate warmth. Fifteen minutes before start time, and columns of Stormtroopers and higher-ranking officers had already settled themselves in position. Though you knew Starkiller had a massive crew, and this was your third assembly since your stationing, the sight of nearly all personnel gathered together still gave you claustrophobia. Thousands of faceless, nameless soldiers, a sea of shiny white helmets--and all you could think about was the one helmet conspicuously missing.

Most of the engineers had arrived, as well, nearly all of them from hangars you’d never been to and didn’t know much about. Yet they knew about you and your assignment--they all did. After all, the bay where you, Sam, and Minks worked housed the elite fleets on Starkiller.

One of the men turned around when you sidled into the row and averted his gaze when he glimpsed your face.

“It’s just a suspension,” you mumbled, heat seeping into your face. “Not that big of a deal.”

“Maybe not to you,” said the man, his stare straight-forward. “But everyone else is waiting to get their hands on that Command Shuttle position.”

“Really.” Fingers rolled into fists as you narrowed your eyes. You shouldn’t have said it, but you couldn’t resist the words coming out of your mouth. “I’m sure Commander Ren would love to hear about your interest in eliminating his best engineer--his words. Should I let him know?”

Silence. Anxiety gripped your heart. You were thankful when a familiar voice interrupted the awkward pause in the group. “Hey!”

“Hey, Minks,” you replied as you faced her, your lips tight over your teeth. “How’s it going?”

She nudged your shoulder. “How’s it going with me? How’s it going with you?”

You sighed. “Oh, you know. Just living the suspension life. Can’t get enough of staring at my ceiling. Do a lot of that.”

“I know,” she said, frowning. “I heard. Sam told me.”

“He did, did he?” you said, raising an eyebrow. “What exactly did he tell you?”

Minks shrugged. “That he suspended you because of your relationship.”

“Oh,” you said, blinking. “Huh. I expected him to lie, for some reason.”

She patted your back. “Look, I don’t agree with it either, but there was some method to it. It wouldn’t be right for him to be your boss when he feels the way he does.”

“Then he should suspend his damn self!” you said, rolling your eyes. “Didn’t seem to have problems having feelings for me before then.”

“I said that I don’t agree with it!” Minks said. She paused, mouth twisting. “He feels really bad about it.”

You scoffed. “Oh, I’m sure. That’s why I’m still suspended.”

Minks opened her mouth to reply, but you shushed her and snapped toward the platform at the head of the plaza. Sam was sliding in, now, taking a spot next to Minks, and your jaw tensed when you heard the shuffle of his shoes only feet from your ears. Your skin wanted to crawl off and float away in the icy wind, your teeth busy tearing at the flesh of your cheek.

His voice came through the breeze, testing out your name. “Hey.”

You swallowed, keeping your gaze locked on the platform. “Foster.” The faces up there were almost impossible to distinguish, but you could catch Captain Phasma’s armor glinting in the the stark sunlight. General Hux was still nowhere to be seen.

He sighed. “Minks, would you mind if we swit--”

“Don’t switch with him, Minks,” you said, hand clasping at your wrist behind your back. “Whatever he wants, he can say it where he’s standing now.”

Minks cleared her throat. “Uh, well--”

She was interrupted by the sudden wave of silence that swept over the crowd. Though his face was just as vague as the others, the reaction to his presence told you that General Hux had made his way onto the stage. His steps were clipped and precise, and he was wearing his greatcoat as something other than an accessory, for once. There was a long pause as the shifting in the crowd settled, attention obediently rapt on the General.

“Our assembly today is not simple protocol,” Hux began. His voice echoed over the ocean of officers, ringing clear in the empty air. “Instead, it is an acknowledgment, an announcement…”

“Look, I’m sorry,” Sam mumbled, keeping his voice quiet. “I know what I did was messed up--”

“Oh yes,” you said, eyes glued on the speck you identified as Hux. “It was definitely that.”

“...of the achievements of this legion, on this machine. The loyalty and dedication to the Order given by those standing on the plaza today…”

“But what you did was messed up, too!” Sam replied, leaning forward, attempting to catch your gaze. “You can’t just treat people like that.”

“He has a point,” Minks murmured.

“Minks!” you said, and then you were hushed by one of the men in front of you. “No, you hush. So, Sam, your argument is ‘you started it’? Great leg to stand on there, dude.”

“She has a point, too,” Minks said, nodding to herself.

“Minks!” Sam said. “No, I’m just saying that sometimes your actions have consequences, dude. Sometimes when you hurt people they stop thinking and try to hurt you back.”

“...and the results are the weapon upon which we now stand. The weapon which, as of today, is fully and completely operational…”

You sneered, leaning over to meet his gaze, now. “I really don’t buy that you feel bad,” you said. “I’m still twiddling my thumbs in my quarters every day. You feel bad? Then fix it!” The same man hushed you again. “Dude, shut up!”

Sam sighed once more, exasperated. “I can’t,” he said. “Once I told Hux, he launched an investigation. Your suspension won’t be able to be cleared until the investigation is over.”

“An investigation?” you said, jaw dropping. “Are you fucking kidding me? You’ll get in trouble, too, dumbass!”

“That’s a really good point,” Minks added.

“Minks!” said both you and Sam through clenched teeth.

“Well, you’re the ones who decided to put me in the middle of this!” she said, pouting.

“...at o-sixteen-hundred hours today, the weapon will begin charging for the first time! The First Order will…”

Sam’s shoulders slumped, and he grimaced. “I told you that I wasn’t thinking!” he said.

You laughed--short, scornful. “Wow, Foster. Your one abuse of power and you fuck it up.” You shook your head. “I almost feel sorry for you.”

“Yeah, well, don’t feel too sorry for me,” he said, standing straight again. “Hux let me know that after they complete the investigation tomorrow, both parties will be removed from Starkiller. Immediately.”

An electric shock halted your heart, and your eyes popped from your skull. “What?”

“Shh!” came the man in front of you, glaring at you from over his shoulder. Your head was too busy spinning to respond.

“...and this will be noted in systems across the galaxy. For this is only the beginning of the reign of the First Order!”

Around you, fists thrust into the air, a chorus of chanted agreement booming across the plaza. But you were stiller than stone, joints and limbs petrified solid. The cheering in your ears was drowning in the cacophony of your thoughts. Investigation. Removed from Starkiller. My absence should be no longer than two weeks. The issue will be resolved when I return. Tomorrow. Immediately. Immediately.

You struggled to catch your breath, the crowd around you crushing your chest into the ground. Edges of your vision receded into darkness, your palms clammy, wind chilling the heat on your face as sweat gathered along your hairline. There wouldn’t be enough time. Kylo Ren would return too late. You’d already be gone. Your career over. All because--because--you wanted to blame this on Sam, at first. Then, you wanted to blame it on Kylo Ren. But there was a whisper in the back of your brain, a whisper that was becoming louder, more insistent, growing and gaining until it was screeching, hollering in your ears, until it was the only thing you could hear no matter how you tried to plug up its mouth.

This was your fault.

Every muscle in your body collapsed, like someone had cut all of your marionette strings at once, and your hands grasped at your knees, searching for anything to stay standing, or at least awake. You felt your back swelling with air, yet you couldn’t breathe. The world sounded as if it had been plunged under the water. Above the surface, you heard Minks calling your name, her hands pulling you up to reality.

“Are you okay? Hey, hey, are you okay?” Minks said. There were two of her. Or at least, that’s what your brain was telling you.

“I’m--” You shook your head and looked again, and the double-images came into focus. “I’m--I need to go.” Swallowing, you stumbled past her and Sam.

She attempted to grab you back, but you wiggled her off. “But we haven’t been--”

“Gonna barf. Gotta go.”

You swallowed again and floundered through the rest of the crowd, feet faltering underneath you as you ran. When you reached the hatch back inside, two Stormtroopers stood tight at attention, prepared to stop your escape. One of them held up a hand.

“You haven’t been dismiss--”

“Want me to barf on you?” you said, panting, half from exertion, and half from fighting back the contents of your stomach. “I’d really love to barf on someone, right now.”

As if you’d said the hidden password, they scrambled aside, and you bolted past them, body temperature rising with every step. The hallways to Starkiller became more and more non-descript the longer you ran, an infinite, empty maze of identical white walls and black tile. With nearly everyone gathered at the assembly, you were darting through the base faster than you’d ever thought possible. And if you were honest with yourself, you weren’t even positive as to where you were going, only that you needed to get there, and get there in the next five minutes.

It’d taken a moment of catching your breath before you realized where you’d ended up. Standing in front of the hatch, though, you weren’t quite sure how to get Kylo Ren’s quarters to open. The security pad next to the door was a mystery--it looked nothing like yours--but even still, you reached for it with a trembling, sweating hand. When your fingers brushed the pad, the door flew open, and you yelped, leaping back as your heart jumped into your throat. But the entrance was empty. As it always was.

“Okay then,” you said, and tip-toed over the threshold, clapping a hand over your mouth when the hatch clamped shut. You sighed, soothing the strings of tight nerves.

Quiet steps led you into his bedroom, the walls apparently repaired in your absence. Apart from that, the room looked the same as when you’d left it--and you’d never been more relieved. You crumbled onto the bed face-first, body sinking into the cushy warmth of the mattress before you erupted in ugly, shuddering sobs.

It only made sense you’d come to his quarters. This might be the last you’d get of Kylo Ren--his bed, his sheets, his scent, his everything. You wondered what he’d say when he found out you were gone. You wondered if he’d regret not revoking your suspension, or if he’d be thinking about you at all. You wondered if he’d remember you, years from now--remember your face, your voice, your name. If he’d remember making you scream, making you shake, making you cum over and over. You wondered, too, if he’d remember holding you as you fell asleep, remember the kiss you’d shared before he’d left, remember the feeling you knew he’d had when he stared into your eyes.

At some point--after how many hours, you didn’t know--you’d fallen asleep, having wept yourself into exhaustion, adrift in the waves of pointless, aimless thought. Your dreams were splotchy, non-sensical spatters of color, wracking the recesses of your brain with incessant noise. You were suspended in restless rest, twisting tight around the fluid fabric of his sheets--until there came a noise, a sharp metal twang, outside the reaches of your drowsy dream state. Like a crack of lighting, you were awake, shooting up in the bed, eyes scanning the room for the origin of the sound.

For a moment, there was nothing--just silence in the darkness of the room (how long had you slept?), but after several long seconds, you heard it. Uncharacteristically slow, but still there. Kylo Ren’s boots crossing the hall.

Your heart soared with relief, happiness, something. “Kylo?” Your voice cracked under the strain of emotion.

The hatch opened, and he appeared in the doorway, his mask already in his hand, face blank. He gazed at you, saying nothing.

Just the sight of him was too much, and you broke down again, tears burning your already puffy eyes, everything in you fractured from the weight of fear, regret, and relief all releasing from you at once. He was back. He was back.

Kylo Ren watched you for a moment, eye twitching. “Yes,” he said. “I have returned.”

“I’m sorry,” you said between your stuttering breath. “I’m so… I’m so…”

“You’re… upset,” he said.

You nodded, sniffling.

His gaze narrowed, eyes flitting from your face to the floor, unable to hold your stare for longer than a second. “Who did this to you?”

“Oh,” you said, blinking. Did he actually care? “There’s an investigation into, uh… his claims. He says it’ll be done tomorrow and that Hux will be kicking us both off Starkiller.” You fought off another sob. “They’re gonna make me leave.”

Kylo frowned. “No.” He was moving around the bedroom now, helmet tossed to the side. The longer his pause went on, the tenser he became. “Your emotion is a waste of time. I already told you that this would be resolved when I returned.”

“Well, I didn’t know if you would be back--”

“You doubt me?” he said, spinning on you. There was a confusing blend of frustration and fear behind his eyes. “Or do you deliberately choose to ignore everything I say?”

Tears welled again, fingers scrunching the sheets. “Why are you yelling at me, dude? What the fuck did I do?”

“You don’t listen!” he said. His fist pounded the wall, and you flinched, the jolt to your muscles enough to spill the streams down your cheeks. But this only seemed to enrage him more, and he advanced on you, growling. “I said I would fix it. Why are you still crying?”

“Because you’re fucking yelling at me, asshole!” you said.

His face fell in a scowl, and he reached and grabbed your leg, yanking you to the edge of the bed. Breath rolled in his chest as his eyes searched your face, and before you could say anything, he tugged you to your feet and stole the air from your lungs in a hard, furious kiss, leather hands almost crushing your skull in their grip. Then, as if he’d caught himself, he pulled away, nestling his face in the slope of your shoulder while his arms looped around you. You both stood there without words, your limbs hanging limp at your sides, ribs still rattled with uncertain breath.

“Stop,” he murmured, pressing apologetic kisses into your neck. Kylo was caressing you, drawing you into his body. “Stop.”

You nodded, wrapping your arms around his hunched frame, steadier with every release of air from your chest. He was warm and strong, and you felt safe again.

A near-silent sigh escaped him, and he pulled away, jaw set firm. “I will meet you in the command center at ten-hundred. Prepare to resume your duties.” He looked to the floor and walked off, grabbing his helmet.

“Where are you going?” you asked, folding your arms while your weight shifted back and forth on your feet.

“I have items still to attend to,” he replied.

You blinked, wondering how long you’d slept. “Oh. What time is it, even?”

“O-four-hundred,” he said, placing the helmet back on his head. A piece of you wilted when the locks hissed back into place. It was as if he was gone again.

You frowned. “Damn,” you said. You remembered the thought you’d had so many days ago. “Why’d you even come here, then? Do you ever sleep?”

Kylo Ren raised the hood of his cowl over his helmet, staring at you from behind his visor. There was a pause--longer than necessary. “No,” he replied. “I wanted to see you.” Then, in a flurry of black fabric, he was gone.

“Huh,” you said, plopping down on the bed. A small smile was sneaking its way across your face. “Huh.”

Chapter Text

Perhaps it was nerves--the combination of knowing you were about to fight for your job and the anticipation of seeing Kylo Ren. Or perhaps you wanted to look punctual, if not eager to get back to your position. You could have also blamed it on the early alarm of your data pad--even though after Kylo left, you hadn’t slept a wink. But whatever the reason, there you stood in the command center, a full 35 minutes before you were scheduled.

Your heart was already hammering at your sternum, and standing in a bustling room full of strangers wasn’t helping, either. Every conference room was booked, and it wasn’t as if there was a lobby. Without an idea of where to go, you stood at the entry hatch with wooden limbs and rooted heels, teeth tearing at the inside of your lip. And no matter how you held it, your data pad seemed to find a way to slip between your sweaty palms. You steadied your breath and rehearsed your appeal--the nature of the relationship was anything but inappropriate, in fact--

The hatch flew open behind you and you almost hit the ceiling, bones bounding out of your skin.

“I won’t be to blame for your mistakes, Ren.” It was General Hux, blowing past you as he spoke. “The mission’s failure belongs to you.”

Hearing his name, your breath hitched, and in the same moment, Kylo crossed in front of you, on Hux’s trail. He must have seen you--even so, if he did, he offered no acknowledgement, instead choosing to pursue the argument. “Yet it was your intelligence that misdirected the--”

Hux spun on his heel, limbs snapping together like they were spring-loaded. “Had you the discipline and focus demanded of you, the error in intelligence would have been irrelevant. Let’s hope the lead on Jakku doesn’t conclude in a similar fashion.” Without another word, he marched through the open door of his office.

A loud collective breath was drawn into every lung as all eyes watched the tower of black robes. Kylo Ren stood, an open flame licking at the thinning air, fists so tight they could smash atoms. You watched him like he were behind a wall of transparisteel--a barrier between your world and his. How was it that you could stand so close to him, but feel so entirely separate, so foreign? He could walk by you now without a single soul knowing what you shared. That you knew the taste of his lips, the warmth of his chest, that you knew how his eyes looked when they were red-rimmed with tears.

“I know you’re staring at me, officer,” came the electronic rumble of Kylo Ren’s voice.

You flinched, though he hadn’t done so much as moved a hair. “Y-yes, sir. Sorry, Commander.”

He turned like a spiral--feet, fists, shoulders, and finally, the empty face of his mask. “You weren’t ordered to report to the command center for another thirty minutes,” he said. “What are you doing here?”

“Didn’t know I needed permission to arrive early,” you said, raising an eyebrow. His shoulders drew back, and you gulped. “Uh, Commander, sir.”

Kylo took a step toward you--those long legs brought him within feet of you in a single stride. “What exactly were you planning on doing for thirty minutes?”

“Uh…”

Being so close to him in public was inspiring sweat at the back of your neck. The power radiating from him was intoxicating--even more so than in the privacy of his quarters. A shaky breath rolled through you while you traced the outline of his body with your eyes. Memories of his muscles and his scars and his strength flashed behind your retina. You wondered what he’d do if you reached out and touched him, here. In front of everyone. If you challenged him to decide on what you meant to him.

“I can hear you,” he said, stealing another step. That tower of black was above you, now, shrinking you in its shadow. “I’d caution you against testing me.”

You frowned. Buzzkill. “Don’t know what you’re talking about.” Staring into his visor from under your lashes, you bit your bottom lip, teeth tugging at the tender skin. When you spoke, your voice was low and raw. “I have nothing but the utmost respect for you… Commander Ren.”

Kylo’s chest rose and fell in a long, steady grapple with his self-control. You could feel his eyes darting over your body, knew that his visor was hiding his widening pupils. To anyone else, your Commander seemed poised to attack, to take his lightsaber and slice down whatever unfortunate machinery chose to stand his way. But he could communicate, even in his silence. And you knew the only thing he wanted to destroy, now, was you.

You also knew that he was powerless to sate his desires in the company of the command center, and mischief lit up your face. You decided to give in to the sweat streaking over your datapad, and keeping his gaze, dropped it. The glass screen crashed and slid over the shiny tiled floor, stopping a few feet away from you. Kylo was motionless, yet you were sure his eyes hadn’t left you for even a nanosecond.

“Oh, no,” you said flatly. “Looks like I dropped my pad. Isn’t that a shame, Commander Ren?” You bit your lip again while you scanned his body. “But don’t worry. I’ll get it. No big deal.”

Giggling at your own silliness and immaturity, you took a step toward the pad, making sure to turn your back to him before you bent down; and with every officer doing their best to ignore Kylo Ren, you felt confident that no one was watching. It was an exaggerated movement--you bent at your waist, arm stretching out toward your lost item, your ass high and knees straight. You used your fingertips to pull the glass toward you, and you plucked it from the floor. Pad in hand, you rose, building yourself vertebrae by vertebrae, until you were standing tall (or, at least, as tall as you could be, next to him). Unable to hide your triumphant smile, you tossed a look back to Kylo over your shoulder.

“Got it,” you said. You could almost feel him twitching with tension, and you wanted to explode with glee. For once, you’d made him uncomfortable. For once--

A single leather hand had you spinning, and you hadn’t realized he’d snatched your wrist until you lurched forward, shoulder nearly popping. He was leading you somewhere, fast--so fast, you weren’t even sure that the rest of the command center had noticed you’d disappeared. You walked in double-time to keep up with his broad stride, and he dragged you into a storage corner off the side of the center. It was dark, stacked with broken or outdated sections of machinery, so unorganized they created a maze inside the tiny off-shoot. Kylo whipped you in front of him and pinned you against the wall chest-first, the heels of his palms digging into your shoulders.

“Kylo!” you said, twisting your head toward the entrance. Though you both were obscured from sight, you saw faint beams of light streaming from above the unit he had you trapped behind, your ears still picking up the buzzing of the busy center. “What are you--”

He silenced you with a jerk of his hips into your ass, his painfully hard length jamming into your backside. You whimpered as the force of his pelvis drove you further into the wall, your heart thrumming out of your throat. There was no way he was about to do what you were thinking. Not feet away from the--

“Is that how you think this works?” he asked, bringing the muzzle of his mask to your ear. His voice was dark and deadly, so quiet that his modulator was fizzing in and out of life. “You think you can act like a little tease anywhere you want?” Only his body was pushing you into the wall now, his hands moving to your neck and breast. “You think I won’t take you whenever and wherever I please?”

“Okay,” you croaked, “I believe you. Game over. You win. Ha-ha--”

The gloved fingers at your throat applied pressure and choked your words. “No, pet,” he said, grinding his arousal into your ass. “This was never a game to begin with.”

In defiance of your good judgment, you clenched, a shiver of longing fluttering over you. Kylo’s large hand squeezed your tit, kneading it in his palm until he could feel the peak of your nipple. His thumb brushed over it, and you held back a whine, wriggling underneath him. A staticky chuckle left the mask.

“How can there be a game without any competition?” he said, circling the hardening point with the pad of his finger, sparks of pleasure lingering in its path. “I can make you buckle in less than five words.”

Ignoring the squirming in between your thighs, you rolled your eyes. “The words ‘fuck me or die’ don’t count,” you said.

He answered your snark with another harsh jab of his bulge. “Funny,” he said. “But you already know what I think about that smart mouth of yours.” The hand on your neck slid up to pinch your jaw open, two leather digits depressing your exposed tongue. You caught a gag when he reached toward the back of your throat. “Much better.”

You tried to call him an asshole, but all that came out was, “Ah-houh.”

Static again from the mask. “Now where was I? Oh, yes. Less than five words, pet.”

He pressed further into your body, hunched over you like you were his next meal. You struggled to breathe while you were crushed into the wall by his weight--when you gasped to catch your breath, he hushed you, pushing his fingers further into your mouth. Saliva leaked down your chin as the taste of leather infiltrated your tastebuds. Kylo seared your ear with the cold metal of his mask, goosebumps erupting down your neck and arms. As he spoke, he began grinding his erection hard into your ass.

“Let…” The hand on your breast made a path toward the hem of your pants, and you shuddered, bucking away from his touch when he skimmed the sensitive skin of your belly. “...me…” His hand slipped under the seams of your undergarments, long, thick digits easily reaching the warmth of your slit, resting on the outer folds, and you whimpered, wiggling your hips as you sought out his touch. “...fuck…” One finger parted your lips, slicking itself on your wetness, dragging and catching over your swollen, stiff clit as he slowly breathed his final word, vibrations of the mask making you clench. “...you.”

You were gelatin in his arms. All you could do was bob your head against his grip, tongue writhing to speak.

“See?” he said, tracing tiny circles around your clit while his length jerked along your ass. “No game at all.” You groaned--louder than you wanted--when he sped his pace on your nub, and he squeezed your jaw. “Quiet. You want the entire command center to find you back here, bent over in front of me?”

You shook your head--at least, that’s what you hoped you did. It was difficult to get any lateral movement while you were being flattened into the wall.

“I thought so.” He grunted, pulling his hand away from your clit to work on undoing your pants. “I wonder--how long has it been since I last fucked you?” The last fasteners slid open and he hooked his digits inside of your trousers and panties, peeling them down to the middle of your thighs. You twitched as the cold of the command center buffeted the wet lips of your cunt. “Almost two weeks--would that be right?"

Holding back a whimper, you nodded, strings of spit dripping from your lips.

“Yes,” he said. “Two weeks. Do you know how difficult it was to go two weeks without this little pussy?” He slid a finger through your quivering slit before you felt him fumbling with his own pants. Under the snout of the mask, you could hear his affected, heavy breath. “And you thought you could tease me with it?”

His hot, needy cock slid between your thighs, a sharp contrast to the chilled air. You squeezed your legs together, trying to roll your hips into him--and he grunted, muscles tightening while he slicked himself on your sex.

“Do you feel what you do to me?” he murmured, mask muffling the strain in his voice. “You’re all I can think about.”

The words brought a wave of heat crashing over your body. “Ky-wo,” you said, fighting against his hand. You wondered if he realized what he’d said. He was all you could think about, too.

“Shh,” he said. Kylo stepped back and pulled your hips toward him, your spine bending at an acute angle. “Brace yourself, pet.”

Heart racing, you nodded, planting your palms on the wall. Your brain was spinning--was he really about to fuck you in a corner of the crowded command center? The thought of being discovered hung like an anvil over your chest--what if you made too much noise? What if--

“Then be quiet,” he said, and the digits on your tongue became an entire hand smothering your mouth while he teased your entrance with the head of his dick. “So wet… and so close to all of those people. You want to get fucked here, don't you? Dirty whore.”

You mumbled into his palm, and he gave your ass a light slap with his free hand.

“I won't tell you again, slut.” He prodded your sex with his urgent member. “Keep quiet and take this cock.” Leather fingers dug into your hips, and his body tensed as he pushed into your core, girth stretching you open with a sweet sting. “Fuck,” he said, apparently unable to help himself. Not even the modulator of the mask could distort the blissful disbelief in his voice. “I’d almost forgotten how good you feel...”

“Mmmhf,” you said, sucking in a long breath through your nose--he was so enraptured in his own pleasure he failed to notice.

Once Kylo had sheathed himself fully in your heat, you clenched around him, revelling when he released a garbled growl, snapping his hips against you. It only took a single quick thrust before he was rocking hard into you, hands clutching tighter at your face and hip. You would have been more worried about the moans threatening to sneak from your chest if you weren’t so focused on the sound of smacking skin, and his audible, ragged breath. But the harder he pounded you, the less you cared, body submitting to the resolution of a fortnight’s longing. His thrusts were so sharp that despite locking your elbows, your arms still fought to keep your body from slamming into the wall. One hard jerk and he hit your cervix, forcing a stifled wail into his hand.

“You want them to hear?” he said, leaning over you to get in your ear. It wasn’t a question--it was a challenge. “You want them to hear what I do to you?”

You shook your head, but he’d already let go of your mouth, sliding that hand down your soft belly to meet your aching clit. His finger brushed over it, cock fucking deeper into you, and you bit your lip to suppress any noise. But he only made it more difficult, filling you up with each thrust as he drew fast, frantic shapes around the sensitive nub, a burst of pleasure washing over you. You winced, teeth cutting into your lip. Did he want you to get caught?

“I suggest you keep quiet, then,” he said, not missing a beat.

His digits were merciless on your clit, your pussy squeezing and pulsing while he built your climax with the help of his textured gloves. Kylo strangled any groan or grunt that attempted to escape him, his body enveloping yours while you pushed off from the wall. He was suffocating, but you somehow wanted him nearer, even as pearls of sweat beaded on your forehead.

“I can’t decide,” he hummed into your ear while you both shook with the power of his hips, “if I want to fill up your cunt, your mouth, or if I want to cum on that beautiful face.” His fingers slowed, teasing your clit with light strokes, and you snuffed a whine. “What do you think?”

“Whatever you want, Commander,” you whispered, surprised you were able to get the words out at all.

He pulled you even closer, your bodies moving as one as he pumped into you, drawing gentle lines over your nub. “You’re right,” he said, pressing his mask into your neck, now. “I think I want to see you covered in my cum.” His fingers resumed their assault, and you silenced yourself as you felt your orgasm coming fast. “But first I’m going to make you cum on this cock.”

Kylo rammed into you, his soft, mangled moans in your ear, digits relentless in rubbing your clit. You tried to breathe through your nose to hide your panting and gasping, pleasure peaking, lids squeezing shut when you felt your body ready to break underneath him.

“Scream my name when you cum,” he demanded. “I want to hear you.”

It was taking all of your strength to hold back your climax as you shook your head. “Kylo, no--someone will--”

“Scream it,” he growled. He was too far gone, too drowned in pleasure--he’d either forgotten or he didn’t care. “Or you won’t cum at all.”

“Yes, Commander,” you said. As if you’d spoken the magic word, a glove seam swiped along the hood of your clit, and you shattered, orgasm colliding into you. “Fuck--fuck--Kylo!”

Pleasure flooded through to your fingertips, and your cunt clamped down on his cock, milking it while he drove deep into you, thrusting through your aftershocks. His movements became erratic, hips bucking hard as he struggled to restrain himself from cumming inside of you.

“Tell me where you want me to cum,” he groaned--he was loud, now, too, squeezing you close, like you’d anchor him to reality. “Say it, whore.”

“Cum on my face, Commander, please!”

Kylo growled through gritted teeth. “Fuck.”

In one swift movement, he was out of you and shoving you down on your knees in front of him, fucking his fist as his visor locked onto you. It only took a few strokes before he was hissing your name, shooting sticky ropes of hot cum onto your lips, cheeks, and nose, cursing while he jerked himself to the end of his climax.

You hummed in content and cleaned his seed from your mouth with your tongue, gazing up into his mask with eager, grateful eyes. His chest heaved with the remnants of his falling peak, and tucked himself back into his pants while he watched you. Silent, he scraped the loads of his release from your face and fed them to you, soft growls rumbling in his chest while you sucked the mess from his fingers.

“Good girl,” he said, his voice hollow and satisfied. “Clean it all.”

Raising an eyebrow, you wiped the last of his cum from your face and swallowed it. “Wouldn’t be a great idea if I sat in a meeting with two other men and your cum was sticking to my face.”

He exhaled--a laugh, part of you hoped--and pulled you to your feet, scanning your body for a moment. Then he reached down and tugged your trousers and panties back up your hips, thick gloved fingers frustrated with your fasteners. You were speechless, heart seizing with joy while your eyes bounced between his mask, dropped in focus, and his digits, meticulous and thoughtful as they finished redressing you. Kylo took your chin in his grip again, angling it toward his mask. He held it there for a long moment, running his thumb over your lip before releasing you.

You blushed, cheeks hot with fevered blood. “So… who leaves first?”

Kylo’s helmet tilted to the side as he considered you. A slight pause, but then he turned, weaving through the mountains of broken consoles, back into the light of the command center. A tide of warm, fuzzy affection seeped into your veins, and you sucked your lips between your teeth to hide your budding smile. And no one had caught you--perhaps the command center was louder than you gave it credit for.

After straightening your uniform, you adjusted your hair to the best of your ability before skulking through the corners of machinery, still holding a tiny glimmer of light in the center of your heart. Beyond the threshold, you heard a voice--nasal, angry.

“Where is she, Ren?” It was General Hux again.

The glimmer died.

Every bit of oxygen evacuated your lungs, and you were paralyzed, perched in the darkness, trembling with a sudden, palpable fear. Wanting instruction, you waited to hear Kylo’s voice--but were met with silence, instead. A sneer cut through the air, followed by the approaching click of boots, and your brain shouted at you to run, or to hide, or do literally anything other than stand there like a petrified statue of a moron.

Hux’s tall, reedy shadow eclipsed the ray of light at your feet, and you craned your neck to meet the ice in his gaze. His eyes narrowed to slits. “You.”

You swallowed the lump congealing in your throat. “Uh, me,” you said. “Sir.”

“Out of the corner,” he said, stomping back into the center. “Now.”

Nodding to no one in particular, you slunk out of the storage area, back bent, shoulders at your ears. Every bit of skin above your neck was on fire, and you felt a furious red rash forming down on your sternum. You were thankful that you’d been too nervous to eat this morning--vomiting in public would just add insult to injury. As you emerged into the light, your already-fracturing heart splintered into a thousand shards. Hundreds of eyes glimpsed you and left--but they weren’t the problem.

No, it was the three pairs directly in front of you: one of them concealed by a black barrier, one of them a turbulent sea green, and the final set--wide, terrified, bright sky-blue.

“Uh, hey, Sam,” you said, forcing an awkward smile. You were calculating what you’d need to do to get to Kylo’s lightsaber and decapitate yourself.

Sam was silent, open-mouthed, but Hux picked up the slack, a smarmy smirk slithering onto his face as he spoke.

“It’s now clear to me who is at fault. Foster, you’re reinstated--but in her position. You’re no longer Chief Engineer.” Then his hostile gaze aimed at you. “I’ll ensure your new assignment is a remote base with little... temptation. You depart tomorrow.” Finally, he looked at Kylo, who was clearly using all of his energy to not raze the entire base to the ground. “I’m sure Leader Snoke will be interested to hear about the source of your recent distraction, Ren. In fact, I think I’ll inform him now.”

Hux glided out of the command center, back straighter than the horizon. Kylo Ren met your eyes from behind his mask, fists flexing, body stiller than space. Like someone had hit a switch, his hand shot to his lightsaber and ignited it, his arm swinging in a wide arc, a snarl accompanying the crackling plasma as he sliced into the terminal to his side. His back was crested in hungry rage--but he stopped, killing the blade instead, turning and storming out of the center.

Your eyes drifted from the hatch to Sam, who was still speechless, still regarding you with an awed mixture of fear and pity. He swallowed, blinking. His fingers were quaking. Around you, the officers in the center had returned to duty, a babble of voices rising over your ears.

“The guy from the Finalizer…” Sam began, but you didn’t stick around to hear the rest. Glaring at him, you tore out of the center, your legs taking you to the safest place you knew.

The doors to Kylo Ren’s quarters opened as they’d done the night before, and you stalked in, letting loose a long howl of shame when the hatch shut behind you. Embarrassment and horror wracked your body, your organs liquefying into sludge when you collapsed onto the wall, hit with a torrent of relief as you let go, sobbing into your hands. To your credit, you’d managed to hold back your tears and groans and wails for the entire journey--you were owed a bit of dramatic escape.

It was only a few minutes of your pity party before you caught your breath, realizing you were plopped on the floor like a limp doll. You rubbed your face free of tears before you stood, walking to Kylo’s bed and flopping onto it. All you had to do was wait for him to return. He’d tell you how he was going to fix this, how it really wasn’t that big of a deal, after all, hell, maybe he’d even tell you that he was glad that this had happened, that everyone knew what you were to him, that--well, no, okay. That was going a bit far.

Really, you just needed his reassurance that this inconvenience would be dealt with.

The sky had begun to redden by the time you heard it--the swoosh of the hatch closing, followed by the thunder of his boots. You sat up in his bed, almost ready to run to him, if you needed--but no, you didn’t think he’d quite like that. He stepped through the bedroom door and stopped dead, his intensity tangible from yards away. Kylo Ren said nothing, and neither did you, dread creeping into your chest the longer the stand-off lasted.

“What are you doing here?” he said, deep voice booming through the modulator.

You hadn’t realized you’d forgotten to breathe until he had spoken. “What do you mean, what am I doing here? You’re the one who told me I was staying with you.”

“Leave,” he said, and when you made no motion to move, he advanced on you like a tiger. “Leave.”

“What?” you said, retreating into the headboard. “Why do I--”

“Leave!” he growled, bringing his saber to life at his side. “I won’t ask you again.”

You frowned, rolling off the opposite side of the bed so the mattress was between you. The back of your mind wondered why you were even bothering--he could use the Force, duh. “Kylo, what’s going on? They’re going to be kicking me off Starkiller! Don’t you--”

“I’ve spent the last three hours convincing Supreme Leader not to kill you,” he said, and pointed the saber toward you. Between the length of his arm and the blade, the tip came within a foot of your neck. “Don’t force me to make good on his request.”

The world froze around you. What was happening? Breath hitched in your throat, water welling in your eyes. “Kylo… I--”

“No,” he said. “I am your Commander. You will address me as such. And you will leave these quarters immediately.”

Your chin quivered while you held back the tornado of rage whirling in your mind. “But…” You leered at him. “Is this it? This is really what we’re doing? This is--”

Kylo bit off your name through clenched teeth. “The reinstatement of your assignment would make it far more difficult to justify your life.” Every word seemed to cause him pain--you could hear it, even behind the exaggerated voice of the mask. “I depart Starkiller within the hour. I hope that you’ve vacated this base by the time I return.” He extinguished the weapon, arm dropping to his side. “Now leave.”

Despite your will to stay, your feet were moving toward the exit anyway. Your heart was being ripped into pieces. “But, I thought we… I thought--”

“No.” He said nothing more.

Face spasming with chained emotion, you scowled at him, gritting your teeth to stop them from chattering. There was nothing more for you to say. You fled his quarters, arms folded over your chest, eyes screwing shut as you resisted the waterfall of tears. Even down the hall, though, you heard it--a wretched screech of anguish, followed by the electric shrieking of a plasma blade carving agony into the durasteel.

Chapter Text

General Hux had wanted you to leave the previous day--and to be honest, so had you.

But the instability of Starkiller’s core following its first full charge was enough to delay your departure. With every effort re-directed to the stabilization of the oscillator (gathering materials, patching up holes, you guessed--not that you gave a shit about the damn oscillator anyway), you had been stuck another day on base.

Your wait was made slightly less torturous by the knowledge that Kylo Ren was off base, doing whatever he did that was so important. So important, in fact, that you weren’t allowed to even be in his presence. So important that the Supreme Leader--who you’d only heard about in passing, and that was rarely--wanted you killed. So important that, in essence, it was the reason why you were waiting, now, to be escorted off of this stupid metal snowball.

The parcel of your belongings was small. It made getting to the departure terminal a bit easier. When you’d arrived at Starkiller, you hadn’t been permitted many personal items to begin with, and it wasn’t like you’d had any places to go shopping. The short amount of time you’d been stationed there, almost all of your money had gone into savings. Now, at your new station, you’d probably need to spend it just to make up for all of the amenities afforded to you on-base.

You hoped they at least didn’t skimp on the medical provisions--your birth control implant had been put to good use over the past few months.

But packing had been the easy part. Waiting to leave was something akin to having your skin peeled off thin layer by thinner layer. The terminal’s walls were made of thick panes of tall, untinted glass, leaving you open to passing, prying eyes as the officers walked to their assignments. Everyone knew, you were sure, could almost hear them whispering--

That’s her.

That’s the girl that was caught fucking Kylo Ren!

Wasn’t she the engineer on his shuttle?

I didn’t even think he was a human!

Oh, I heard she begged him to… well--

Hot blood coursed up your neck as you buried your face in your hands. Okay, you really hoped that last one was just a projection of your cruel imagination. Yet part of you was certain Kylo Ren hadn’t been the only one to hear your plea for him to cum on your face.

You sighed. Not that it mattered now, anyway. You’d never see any of those people--or him--ever again.

When the doors to the departure terminal opened, you hesitated to lift your head. After all, you didn’t want to actually invite any mockery. But you heard the person’s voice calling your name--softly, gently. Laced with concern. So you obliged your initial instinct and greeted your visitor with reddened cheeks.

You’d never seen Minks Loren look so sad.

“Oh, no,” she said, scampering over to sit next to you. “I hoped it wasn’t true.”

You couldn’t bring yourself to look her in the eye. In resignation, you threw your hands up. “Well. Uh. It is.”

For a long while, you both sat there, mired in the silence of a reality that was too easy to understand and too difficult to acknowledge. Waiting for the other to person to speak. Waiting for someone to crack the ice creeping up the walls and onto the ceiling, stilling the room with a cold reluctance. Then you both swung--simultaneously--wanting to rid yourselves of the frostbite from the increasing chill.

“You and the Commander--”

“Heard there was an assembly--”

“--Oh.” Minks held up her palms, pretending like she’d never said it. “No, you go first.”

You rolled your eyes. “No, Minks. It’s fine,” you said. “Can’t get any worse at this point.”

Her mouth was a hard line. Then another, more comfortable, pause. “How--uh…” She swallowed, gripping her knees. “How lo--... how did you... “ A long exhale. “So, he’s--he’s the guy from the Finalizer?”

You sighed. “Yup.”

More silence. How was a person supposed to process the knowledge that her friend had been fucking Kylo Ren for months? Even you had trouble processing it, and you’d been the one with his dick in your mouth. You could almost hear Minks reviewing the catalogue of your past conversations, remembering the times when you’d all been in the shuttle together and she’d been none the wiser. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw her hands trembling as her fingers bunched the fabric at her thighs.

“So,” you said. “Now you know.”

“I’m sorry,” she said, shaking her head. “I’m just--afraid? For you, your future, for Sam--”

“Sam?” you said, raising an eyebrow. “He’s not the one getting kicked off base. I am.”

“You dragged him in between you and Kylo Ren,” she replied. “And now he’s the engineer for the shuttle.”

“Yeah,” you said. “Cruel punishment, that is. And I thought Hux liked him.” You considered what she’d said. In your mind, the issue with Sam had been dealt with once you’d spent that night with Kylo Ren. But maybe she was right. Maybe Kylo’s latent anger would see itself victimizing more than just machinery. “I see your point, though.”

Minks sighed. “Let’s hope I’m wrong.” You nodded, unable to find anymore words. After a pause, she grinned--insincere, weighed down with fear. “Well, anyway. You mentioned the assembly.”

Happy for the change of subject, you clicked your tongue, sitting back in your chair as you crossed your arms. “Yeah, man! We just had one of those. What’s the deal?”

“Something about the base, I think,” she said. “Something about fixing the oscillator?”

“Huh,” you said. “Weird.”

It was a good thing you were leaving, then. Just another thing you wouldn’t miss. All you wanted to do was get on the stupid transporter so you could continue with your stupid life at your stupid new assignment. Stupid.

Minks touched your shoulder, squeezing it before she stood. “Speaking of the assembly… I guess I should get going to that.”

You nodded, meeting her eyes for the first time. They were shiny with sadness. Or pity. You weren’t sure which. “I guess you should.”

She exhaled again. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“I’ll do my best,” you replied. You weren’t sure what else you should say.

She stood there, staring at you for a moment, caught in the awkward web of wanting to ask more but knowing she couldn’t. A small smile crossed her lips before she nodded and bid you goodbye. You watched her go back into the halls of Starkiller, long blonde hair swishing behind her as she turned in the direction of the plaza. She wasn’t wearing a jacket. She’d probably regret that.

You gazed out of the transparisteel walls at the other end of the terminal. Beyond them, the terrain was white, growing whiter, every bit of chrome glistening with new caps of hardened snow. The sky was a bleak iron-grey, thick clouds obscuring any hope of a warm departure. You hoped that wherever Hux had decided to send you, it’d be some place that could plan to see anything besides “soul-destroyingly cold” on the weather forecast. Perhaps there’d be some positives to being re-assigned. Perhaps you’d be a big fish in a small pond. Get respect from the few people you’d work with. Maybe even move up.

Your skin burned as you remembered what Hux had said about “lack of temptation.” So maybe you’d be on assignment by yourself on some little fuel station until the end of your contract with the First Order. Which was, for all you knew, indefinite.

On the horizon, you could see the hints of trees littering the landscape--a living remnant of whatever this planet once had been. You could almost hear the echo of Hux’s voice in the distance--shouting something about the First Order, how great it was, how your efforts would see to the restoration of rightful government to the galaxy, blah blah blah. Reluctantly, your thoughts turned to Kylo Ren. The hidden cracking in his voice. The heat of his lightsaber at your neck. You wondered if he was thinking about you.

Then your reverie was cut short. It started with a red glow, a crimson aura born at the trunks of those same distant trees. They were silhouettes at first, little black spears against the swelling, bright blaze--and then they were gone, consumed by a wave of massive, furious heat as a column of flames erupted into the sky. That was something you saw before you heard, until you didn’t hear anything at all, eardrums numbed by the dense surge of pressure, felt even through the transparisteel. It was followed by the blowback--thickets of torn branches and rended roots riding the crest of expended energy until they slammed the glass and crashed into the ground below.

You barely flinched, so mesmerized by the absolute power that you weren’t even sure how much time had passed before you felt the lingering heat at your face as the tail of fire was sucked into the stratosphere. In front of you, there was only a raw, crackling line of wasted land where the foliage had been.

“What the fuck,” you mumbled, standing.

Were you really going to be leaving the planet while there were giant lasers flying through the air? Noting the time, you were already thirty minutes past your scheduled departure. Your patience lasted you less than an hour before you were grabbing your parcel and heading to the hangar yourself. You were familiar with it--it was right next to the docking bay where you--where you had been assigned, and was a short walk from the departure terminal, anyway.

The halls were empty--you imagined people had already flowed back in from the assembly, or, whatever that was--as you marched over to the hangar. Yards away, you saw the hatch to the docking bay, snapped shut. The last time you’d ever see it, you imagined. The hatch to the hangar was to your right, but you stood for a moment, admiring it, making a sketch in your brain to later ink over with memories.

Then the hatch opened, two lines of Stormtroopers pouring in from the bay, and you were paralyzed, hoping to meld into the walls before they noticed you. They stalked past, uniform rows of white armor, and your eyes followed them down the hall, ears picking up the voices behind you.

“We’re taking her to the open room, sir?”

“Yes. Keep the restraints on.”

That voice was a lance through your chest. You knew that voice. Dark. Cold. Empty.

Swiveling your head, you saw them: the Stormtrooper, carting a woman in his arms--her clothes dirty, her body limp. She was unconscious. Your face fell--what was she doing here? Why did they need her? Her appearance seemed to point to little more than her being a desert scavenger. Then your gaze drifted beyond her, sticking to the owner of the voice that had glued you so securely to the ground.

But if Kylo Ren had noticed you, there wasn’t an ounce of him that betrayed it. It was as if your wish of becoming one with the wall had been fulfilled--he strode past you, composed entirely of a single-minded focus. You swallowed a thick knot of mucus and anxiety as he passed you, hands aching to reach out and touch him, brain ready to splinter with anger. After all of that mess, you’d actually started to care about him, started to feel like he would be able to protect you, correct the decisions he’d made.

Instead, here you were, career ruined, about to get tossed off of Starkiller. All because of him.

You blew out your simmering fury through your nose and scowled, disappearing through the hangar hatch and stomping over to the transporter. The pilots were exchanging idle chatter, their masks removed. That wasn’t a good sign.

“Hey,” you said, snapping to get their attention. “Am I leaving here, or what?”

One of the pilots scanned you, recognizing who you were, keeping his face blank. “Not for a bit. There’s a no-fly order. Something about Resistance ships on the scanners. Should be taken care of soon, though.”

“Gods!” you said, shaking your head. “It’s one thing after another with you guys. Can’t even kick someone off a planet in a timely manner.”

He shrugged. “Don’t know what to tell you. Just go wait back in the terminal.”

“Fine,” you said, frowning. “Whatever.”

Growling, you spun on your heel, returning through the hatch and back into the hallway. It was empty again. Your fingers gripped tight around your luggage as your eyes traveled from the floor back over to the solid hatch to the docking bay. The Command Shuttle was beyond it. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to say goodbye to it, too. Might be the last interesting ship you’d ever see.

Parcel in hand, you snuck past the the threshold into the bay and followed the familiar path over to your former assignment. Scanning the outsides, the shuttle wasn’t looking all too hot--or, rather, it was looking way too hot. Smoke was steaming out from the back and wavy heat was rippling from the body of the ship. There was some issue with one of the engines, you were sure--finally, something interesting going on with that thing.

You paused. That was Sam’s problem, now. But even still--the ramp was dropped onto the ground. It was like it was asking you to make a diagnosis. You searched the room for any intruding eyes--but the docking bay was abuzz with activity, pilots and officers alike. Maybe those Resistance ships were causing some real problems. Oh well. Just made a better distraction for you.

Hiding a smile, you dropped your parcel and clambered up the ramp, fighting to stop your hands from rubbing together as you tiptoed into the cockpit. One last little inspection before you left--that was all.

“Who’s that?”

Shame flooded your body. There was someone already in the cockpit. Even worse, it was Sam.

“Hey,” you said, knowing it was too late to run back down the ramp now. “Just, uh. Just me.”

“Oh,” he said. There was shuffling as he put down his work before scrambling out to meet you. You weren’t sure whose face was redder--his, or yours. “Uh. Well. Hey.”

In your head, you were running through every possible scenario of the last time you’d seen him. Perhaps he hadn’t heard anything, and was just there when you’d walked out. That totally could have happened. But his eyes were still wide, his face tight with a mixture of fear and surprise and worry. The way he was looking at you told you that he’d caught when you wailed Kylo’s name. And that he’d caught everything after that, too.

“So… you’re on the shuttle, now, huh,” you said.

He nodded, glancing at the floor. “Uh, yep. Guess, uh, guess our little shoot-out didn’t matter so much, after all.”

“Guess not,” you replied. After a pause, you sucked in a breath. “So, like--it’s looking like one of the engines is busted.”

Sam blinked, crossing his arms as he looked to the cockpit. “Uh… y-yeah. It… It is. ”

You sucked your teeth, peeking into the cockpit yourself. It was ripped apart, wires and paneling strewn over the floor. “You know what you’re doing?”

“Uh, yeah, to--totally.” His jaw tensed, and he met your eyes, making you shudder with embarrassment. “Okay, no. I have no idea. I have no idea how you worked on this thing. It makes no sense.”

“No sense?” you said, pacing over and gesturing to the mess in the pilot chairs. “You’ve torn it to pieces. Of course it makes no sense.”

He frowned, walking to meet you. “No way. Do you see this? There’s no wiring in any other ship like this on the bay. How do you even remember all of this crap?”

You blinked. Was Sam Foster, Former Chief Engineer and Professional Asshole actually admitting ignorance? “Man, it’s almost like I should have had that Chief Engineer position,” you said. Whoops. That was mean. You almost regretted it. Almost.

“Hey,” he said, wincing. “I didn’t ask for that position.”

“Uh-huh,” you said, and pulled the paneling off the captain’s chair, sitting down to inspect the damage. “You really did a number on this thing, huh.”

Sam shrugged, sighing. “Can you… do you think you can help me?” He paused. “I don’t need another reason for the Commander to want to kill me.”

Your heart sunk. Dammit. And you thought you’d be able to get out of this conversation without any mention of your relationship with Kylo Ren. “Sam, look--me and the Commander--”

He held out a hand, stopping you. “Whoa.”

Glaring at him, you looked out of the cockpit, into the docking bay. Light had filled the bay, so bright it glinted off of the durasteel walls. The entire floor looked awash in a white haze. Were they charging the weapon again? Were you ever going to get off of this damn planet? You walked closer, trying to peer out through the windows of the docking bay to see what was going on. But it was no use. The luminosity had bleached any view of the outside blanker than snow.

You sighed. “Anyway.” You turned to him, raising an eyebrow. “You wanted help?”

Sam was stoic, only nodding and stepping back as if to let you have the floor.

“Okay,” you said, and began sorting through the panels he’d thrown onto the ground. If you were being honest, he hadn’t needed to uproot any of these. “Did you at least check to see if the engines will start?”

“Yes,” he said, exasperated. “And no, they won’t start. C’mon. I’m not that big of an idiot.”

“Debatable,” you replied, tossing one of the panels to the side.

Sam sighed your name. “I told you that I was sorry. I mean, look--it’s not like I got a better deal than you--”

You sneered, head whipping around. “Oh, yeah. You totally didn’t. You only get to work on the prestigious Command Shuttle while I get shipped off to the butthole of the universe for all eternity.”

He balked. “You didn’t even want this assignment to begin with!”

“Yeah, well, it’s better than nothing, isn’t it?” you said, turning your back to him. Grumbling, you started to piece together one of the consoles. Minutes passed with silence thick in the air.

After a while, Sam coughed. “Did he--” He paused, choking on his own words. “Did he ever--y’know. Threaten you?”

You froze. Slowly, you stood to meet his eyes, face drawn tight in anger. “Excuse me?”

“I don’t know,” he said, fumbling as he averted his gaze. “It’s just--I thought--”

Holding up a hand, you stared at him. “Are you actually asking me if Kylo Ren forced me to have sex with him?”

“You know what, no,” he said, holding up his hands and backing away. “It was a stupid thing to say. I wasn’t think--”

“What I did with Kylo Ren is one-hundred percent my business,” you growled. “I’m sorry that now you have to work on this stupid shuttle. And I’m sorry that I wasn’t honest with you from the beginning. Sam, I am truly sorry I dragged you into it at all.” Your voice was low and sharp. “But don’t you ever think that means you have to right to ask me that question. Ever.”

Sam nodded, chewing his cheeks. “I’m sorry.” He met your stare. “For everything.”

Your chest fell in a sigh, the bitterness around your heart starting to unravel. You weren’t ready to completely forgive him yet. But if this was the last time you were going to see him, you were willing to try. Nodding, you offered him a small smile.

“Yeah,” you said. “Me too.”

The moment the words left your mouth, the rays from the outdoors faded, windows shrouded in blackness, as if night had swallowed the planet.

“Huh,” you said, turning to look out of the cockpit.

The lights on the inside of the docking bay were still on, but there was nothing to be seen outside. You remembered someone telling you how Starkiller’s weapon worked (now you knew you should have been paying more attention). Something about eating the sun or something. Maybe that’s what this was.

“Well, that’s not good,” you said, folding your arms over your chest.

Sam came up next to you, craning his neck to see if he could discern anything. As he leaned forward, a loud, deep rumble resonated through the ground, and every person in the bay stopped, staring at each other. Your breath paused, and you looked to Sam--and then there was another rumble. And then all of the indoor electricity flickered and died.

“Well,” Sam said, lines of his face illuminated by the red emergency lights. “That’s not good, either.”

Chapter Text

When the screams started, you and Sam scrambled out of the cockpit and down the ramp, following the dim glow of red light as best as your pupils would allow. In the docking bay, you could make out little in the panicked swarm of people, your ears swallowed by a cacophony of horror, your eyes straining to see through the veil of dark crimson gleaming from the walls.

As an officer rushed past you, you turned to Sam, failing to hide the tremors in your voice. “W-what’s happening, dude?”

Sam’s face was grim. “Whatever it is, I’m not sure we should be sticking around to find out.”

A loud chorus of snapping tethers had you spinning your head, signaling the release of rows and rows of TIE fighters for take-off. You frowned--even in the absence of light, you could see your fellow officers gathering in angry, squirming crowds, climbing over each other for a seat in one of the ships. Without you realizing it, your heart started thumping hard in your chest. Another rumble--this one closer, louder. The ground shook under your feet.

“Something tells me we need to be doing what they’re doing,” you said, unable to tear your eyes from the desperate mass of bodies behind you.

“Yeah,” he replied. “I think you’re right.”

Even with those words, you both stayed rooted to the end of the shuttle’s ramp, watching the world blur in front of you. Logically, you knew you should be like those wriggling, selfish bodies, but your brain had stopped, watching you watch them, like this was a performance in which you simply happened to play a part.

The only thing to snap you from your trance was the urgent shouting of Minks Loren, who, you realized, was now in your face, arms waving wildly in the air while she spoke.

“Guys! The planet is collapsing! The Resistance--they--we have to go!”

Air filled your lungs like you’d broken the water’s surface. “Go?” you said. “What? How? Where’s--”

You couldn’t finish your sentence. It wouldn’t be appropriate to say--in front of Sam and Minks, no less--Where’s Kylo Ren?

“In a ship!” she said, staring at you as if you didn’t realize the entire planet was de-stabilizing (which, to be honest, you still didn’t).

Three TIE fighters screamed by overhead. Their numbers were slimming. “And what ship would that be?” you asked.

Minks blinked. “The Command Shuttle, of course!”

“No,” Sam said. Seemed he was out of his trance, too. “The shuttle’s down. One of the engines is busted.”

“Well,” you said, “I could see if I could try and fix--”

“We don’t have time for that!” Minks cried. You suppressed a leer.

Sam scanned the bay. “If we’re going to leave, it’ll have to be in a transporter.”

“A transporter?” Minks said. “Can you fly one of those?” She was right to ask. Those things were bulky and unwieldy-- typically only trained pilots had the skill.

“We’ll figure it out--we have to, between the three of us, right?” There was more pleading in his voice than you figured he’d meant to show.

A powerful quake shook the foundation underneath the bay, and half the people in your line of sight stumbled into the ground, shrieks rising in waves as they did. You might have been one of them, had Sam not snatched your arm and yanked you upright. Flustered, you met his eyes, and he released his grip, holding up his hands in submission.

“Sorry,” he said. “Automatic reaction.”

You rubbed your arm. Now was not the time to scold him for catching you mid-fall. “It’s fine.”

Minks groaned. “Let’s go!” she said, clutching both of you at the shoulder. “Now!”

Nodding, you finally started to move your feet. “Right.”

The three of you cut through the stampede of fear like a spear, pushing and shoving and yelling, ignoring the body-checks you received as officers careened by, searching for any lead, any hope, any escape. Terror was no longer a feeling. It was a scent, so thick in the air that even breathing it in made you woozy. You couldn’t feel your pulse, anymore, but you imagined that was because it was flying through your veins so fast that it didn’t bother to beat.

A voice--loud and commanding--broke into your ears. “Foster! Foster!”

The three of you stopped against all instinct, turned toward the source. It was Hux. You heard Sam curse under his breath.

“Get the shuttle functioning immediately,” Hux said, marching toward your group. His steps were quicker than normal--he looked a bit funny. “I need it operational in the next five minutes.”

“Sir, I...” Sam grimaced, staring at the floor. “I can’t.”

Hux bristled--his eyes popped out of their sockets. “What do you mean you can’t?”

“I mean I can’t, sir,” Sam replied. His body looked like a board. “I can’t figure it out. I don’t know how to fix it!”

“You were the Chief Engineer,” Hux spat. The words shot through his teeth like knives--the hatred for Sam could have been wrung out from his tongue. There was a long, deep groan, like the sound of metal being rended apart, and the ground rocked below you, as if the entire planet was shaking. With a palpable reluctance, Hux’s gaze turned to you. “Get on the shuttle. You can fix it, can’t you?”

Your face was hotter than the now non-existent sun. Though you weren’t sure of your answer, you nodded anyway. “Yes, yes I can. Yes, sir.”

“Go,” he said. “Now.” With that, he rushed onto the ship, accompanied by two Stormtroopers.

Swallowing a wad of apprehension, you glanced between Minks and Sam. “You guys coming, or?”

Sam shook his head. He still didn’t want to risk it. “We’ll take the transporter. We’ll be fine.” He looked to Minks, and she nodded, before he turned back to you. “And hey--you got this. You can do it. We’ll see you on the Finalizer. O-okay?”

Warmth washed over you as you gazed at them--their earnest faces, hiding an undercurrent of dread, a question lingering: would they ever see you again? You had an overwhelming urge to draw them both into your arms and squeeze them close. Another crack--the ground shifting. There was no time for hugging. You had a ship to fix.

“You will,” you said. “Good luck.”

One more time meeting their eyes while you etched their faces into your memory. Sam’s--still so handsome, so kind, taut with an uncertain hope. Minks’--round and sweet, the tenuous belief in your ability shining in her blue irises. And then you turned and ran, feet pounding the ground as you flew up the ramp to the shuttle, fighters whizzing above you.

Inside, Hux was glaring at his datapad, mumbling under his breath as he stood inside the cockpit.

You slipped around him, holding your breath. “Uh, I need more room, sir.” He sneered and joined the Stormtroopers in the back.

The ship was a hologram inside your brain, your mind’s fingers spinning and twisting it while you devised a plan of attack. One engine was down--but the ship had twin ion engines, and you knew that just one had enough power to fly the entire ship. If you shut down the other engine and re-routed the energy from those fuel cells into the working one, it might be enough to get the ship going. Might. But you had to try.

There were still panels hanging from the center console by exposed wires and you haphazardly threw them back onto the dash. What you needed was the engine panel--your hands and eyes scanned the controls, the tempest in your mind fogging your ability to discern what you were looking for. Then a screech, and the ship keeled, knocking you to the other side of the cockpit. The clanging of armor hitting durasteel echoed behind you.

“Engineer!” Hux’s voice was like rust to your ears. “What exactly did you spend all of your time on this ship doing?”

Your jaw locked as heat burned your face, fingers itching to rip off one of the dangling panels and bash him across the chin with it. But you sucked in a breath and returned to the consoles. The engines. Starting the ship. The controls you needed were right in front of you. A long sigh of relief escaped you as your hands worked in time with your thoughts. You recalled sitting up front when Kylo Ren had flown the ship--and following it, unbidden: memories of his soft lips, his hot breath, his saber deep in your cunt, his tongue cleaning his cum from your belly.

Sharp claws sunk into your heart, shredding it. He didn’t want you. Not anymore.

Shaking your head free of him, you pried off the engine panel and walked your fingers across the wires. There were only two you needed--you ripped them both and tied the exposed ends together. A torch, or literally anything that could solder them would have been ideal, but you hoped it would hold for a short flight. It had to.

Finishing that, you slammed the panel shut and raced to the back of the ship, pushing past the troopers and popping open the rear access to the malfunctioning engine. All you needed was to disable it, and then--

“Pilot!” you called over your shoulder. “We got a pilot?”

Without a word, one of the troopers was up and in the cockpit. Behind you, the ramp pulled in with a whirr. “Ready for departure--”

“Not yet!” The switch wasn’t moving. “Fuck--” You heard a chunk of the bay crumble to the ground with a terrible crash, the shock rippling through your flesh. “Fuck!”

“Time is of the essence,” Hux chided.

The thought of punching Hux in the face was more appealing by the second--but you didn’t need to. You punched the switch, instead. Like magic, the engine was off, and every bit of energy it sucked from the generator would feed into the working side.

“Go!” you said, climbing out of the access port and flinging the door shut. “Go!”

The ship lurched, and you crumpled onto the floor, your head bumping the wall. Another memory: Kylo Ren’s thick cock throbbing in your mouth as his weight shoved you into the durasteel, his heavy, hot breath through his mask. You groaned, gripping the sides of your head as if to pull the thoughts out of your skull. Now you were leaving Starkiller in his ship--without him. The ache in your chest wondered where he was, but growing bitter vines in your brain reminded you he was a pilot. A Force-user. The Commander. He was fine.

“Coordinates, General,” said the trooper in the cockpit.

Hux relayed the information while you stood, brushing the dirt from the floor from your arms. The ship coasted, floating low over the surface, and through the cockpit, you could see the destruction of Starkiller unfolding in front of your eyes. Red hot cliffs formed as the core swallowed massive hunks of land, light dying over the landscape as even the emergency generators failed. The ground was breaking apart at its ragged seams, loud claps of terrestrial thunder tearing through the atmosphere. And still, the ship had yet to breach the barrier of space.

Despite your heart hammering in your chest, you were far too nervous to question the logic of this maneuver. You sat in a passenger seat, leg practically bouncing between the floor and the ceiling.

“Here,” Hux said. “Stop. Drop the ramp.”

You sprung from your seat. “What?” Looking out of the cockpit, all you could see were blue-black trees and the impending implosion of the ground you were about to be parked on.

But no one responded, and the ship stilled when it hit the uneven terrain. The ramp plummeted to the snow, and before it even hit the ground, Hux and the troopers were already charging down. Cold, shallow air gusted into the ship, and you winced, retreating to the cockpit to escape the chill. The lack of information wasn’t helping your leg jiggling--neither was the violent shuddering of the ship, stopped on an unstable foundation.

It had only been seconds--the longest seconds of your life, maybe--before you heard boots on the ramp again, stomping into the ship. You moved to leave the cockpit, but the sight of the troopers froze you. Well, not just them. It was what--no, who they were carrying.

There was only one person you knew who was that big--and wore that much black--but you couldn’t reconcile the reality of what he looked like now with the person in your memories. You watched helplessly as the troopers laid him out across one of the benches built into the ship, strangled groans leaving his chest while he gasped for air. Red fire arced up his shoulder onto his neck and cheek, the smell of singed flesh already apparent, even in the thinning air.

Fuck. He wasn’t fine. He wasn’t fine.

“Kylo,” you sputtered. “Fuck, Kylo!”

You hadn’t even realized you were moving until the General stepped into your field of vision, a barricade between you and Kylo Ren. His cold, green eyes found yours through your panic, locking you in place with his stare. You felt the Stormtroopers bolt to the cockpit, heard the ramp lifting.

“Leader Snoke would not approve.” Hux’s voice was a warning.

“Fuck Snoke, and fuck you,” you snarled.

“Take-off in five!” came the pilot’s voice. The lone engine was roaring to life. You really hoped it didn’t blow up once it hit full speed.

Hux snorted. “They’re your consequences to receive.” He stepped aside, sitting in a passenger row.

Your eyes snapped to Kylo again, and you dashed over to him, collapsing to your knees at his side as the ship jerked and surged into the air. He seethed in pain as turbulence jostled the ship--the planet was minutes from death, now--and you hovered over him, hands grasping at the air as you searched for a safe place to touch. You weren’t even sure there was one.

His dark, wavy hair stuck in sweaty, bloody clumps to his face, and the arc you’d seen before was a giant, burning gash, running from his shoulder up between his brow. Sharp flames had sliced his robes open, embers still licking ashes into the cloth, and on his torso you caught two holes in his armor--his shoulder and abdomen. Seething again, he sucked in air through clenched teeth as his lids fluttered open to meet your gaze. Those brown eyes were storming with something terrible, so awful and dark you couldn’t even know if it had a name, only that it was made of rage and sorrow and hatred, and that it was filling him until it was spilling out in waterfalls.

He mumbled your name, voice scraping at his throat, and you nodded, sitting higher.

“Yes, Kylo, yes, it’s me,” you said, hands still unsure of where to rest. You settled a palm on his stomach, then snatched it back. Cold. Wet. Your skin was red. “Fuck. Kylo…”

Breath stuttering in his chest, his gaze drifted over you, lids struggling to stay open. Every muscle in your body was shivering with fear, chin quivering, water welling in your eyes while you fought to steady your lungs. You couldn’t stop looking at your hand, couldn’t stop thinking about how much blood--his blood--had soaked into the black wash of his robes. A thought flashed in your mind: at least you were spared the visual evidence of his hemorrhaging. Vomit almost spewed out of your mouth.

Kylo said your name again, this time, louder, clearer, and you nodded once more, a tiny smile breaking across your face.

“Yes,” you said. “It’s me. I’m here. I’m with you.” Carefully, you pushed the nest of clotted hair from his face, heart pounding in your throat. You hoped that Starkiller’s temperature was to blame for how cold he felt.

In the chaos of your mind, you nearly missed it--the icy reality of loss, seizing your blood in your veins, short-circuiting your brain. Kylo Ren could die. Kylo Ren could die.

And to your pure shock--you were absolutely fucking terrified.

In your frenzy, words fell from your lips uncensored. “Kylo, please be okay. Please.” You were still plucking away threads of hair matted to the gaping wound on his face. Staring into it made you dizzy. “You know what, no, you will be okay, you’re going to be fine. We’ll be landing soon, and they’ll take you to the medbay, and--”

Jaw firm, he sputtered your name a final time, glaring through you. His body was trembling with frustration and pain.

“Yes, Kylo,” you cooed, leaning close to him so he wouldn’t have to use energy to speak. His lips were at your ear. “What is it?”

He wheezed. “Get. Away. From me.”

Color drained from your vision, blood and shame and fury pooling in your face. You withdrew, blinking, hoping his rasping had distorted the words. “W-what?”

Kylo was forcing the swelling of his chest to still while he bored holes into your skull. “Get away. From me. Now.”

Your mouth dropped open, eyes not leaving his, even when you felt the ship shake to a stop. In the distant corner of your mind, you heard the ramp lowering, heard Hux ordering the troopers to rush Ren to the medbay--and then you were knocked to the side, falling onto your butt as you watched them lift Kylo in their arms. His face was tight with pain, but he was silent, glued to your gaze until he disappeared down the ramp.

Back up against the wall, your feet splayed out in front of you, you stared into your red-painted hand, studying the way the blood congealed in the wrinkles of your palm. Hot tears were slipping down your tingling cheeks. Kylo Ren’s words were ricocheting in the empty confusion of your mind, growing louder. Get away from me. Get away from me.

The soles of Hux’s boots reverberated through the floor, stopping at the head of the ramp. He turned and looked at you, a malicious smirk on his face, before walking down to the Finalizer, back straighter than a rod. You scowled. Dickhead.

Seconds, minutes, hours--you weren’t sure how long you spent in the Command Shuttle, memorizing the creases in your flesh. Below you, you heard the cheers and cries of relief, the hushed murmurs of bad news, the bustling commotion of hundreds of people who’d just had their home for months--some years--disintegrate before their eyes. You supposed you’d be living on the Finalizer, now. If you were going to be staying at all.

Sighing, you wiped your bloody hand on the leg of your pants. Then a realization, your heart sinking. You’d left your belongings on Starkiller. Shit. Now the only pair of pants you owned was stained with Kylo Ren’s blood.

Thinking of him made your heart twinge in pain, made more tears sting the corners of your eyes. You didn’t want to leave the ship, didn’t want to face anyone or do anything. But you knew Sam and Minks would be worried, so you grumbled wiped your face, pulled yourself up and made your way into the hangar of the Finalizer.

The ship was wild with noise and motion. Long, impatient lines of exhausted people were filing through impromptu check-in stations, receiving temporary passes to guest quarters. You were impressed with the efficiency of their droid programming on such short notice--but then, you figured you should expect nothing less from the First Order. You shrugged, hopping in line and waiting for an assignment of your own. The anonymity in the crowd was almost a relief. In the anxiety to find refuge, you supposed that people had little time to gossip or pay you attention. Perhaps you’d even be forgotten in the next 24 hours.

After receiving your pass, you trudged through to the halls, head craning out across the sea of heads in search of Sam or Minks. The waves of bodies pushed you forward, and you caught a few groups of people--some urgent, others not--with injuries, all moving together. Though not as familiar with the Finalizer as maybe Minks was, you knew where they were headed. And the ache in your heart, the worry, couldn’t stop you from following.

Compared to the hangar, the medbay was loud. Scores of people were receiving treatment for lashes on their heads, sprained or broken bones. Medical droids buzzed back and forth over the floor, beeping and booping as they provided assistance to the doctors. You peered through the windows, searching for any sign of Kylo Ren--but you didn’t see him. Maybe he was in a room. Maybe he was being operated on. Maybe--

“Can I help you?”

You jumped, spinning to meet the owner of the voice. “Oh! I’m sorry.” She was a doctor--young, a spark of wry wit in her eyes. Over her shoulder was a massive bag full of--something, you didn’t know. Medical supplies, maybe? “Excuse me, doctor.”

She shrugged. “You’re fine. Do you need something? Looking for someone?”

“Uh, no. Well. Yeah.” You cursed the embarrassment leaking into your cheeks. “I was, um, asked to check the status of Commander Ren.”

“Commander Ren?” she said, raising a brow. “You mean the temperamental buckethead responsible for half of the panic attacks on the Finalizer?”

You snickered out of surprise and amusement. Her bluntness had thrown you off-guard. “Oh. Um. Yeah, that’s the one.”

“Nasty organ damage and a lot of blood loss, but it’s nothing a transfusion and some stitches won’t fix.” She snorted. “Judging by the tantrum he was throwing when we put him on the table to dress his minor wounds, he’ll be fine.”

Relief crashed over you like a tsunami, and you felt the ball of tension exit your chest in a long exhale. “Thank the Maker,” you said, and then coughed, looking to the floor. “Uh, my superior will be pleased to hear of this report. T-thank you, doctor.”

“You’re welcome,” she said, and gave you a knowing smirk before disappearing through the medbay doors.

Another sigh left you while you slumped into the wall, raking your fingers over your face. Fine. He was fine. It didn’t matter if he hated you or never wanted to see you again. The thought of him not… well, it made your stomach twist in knots. You sunk to the ground, resting your head in your palms. You needed to get back to your room and rest--even if it was going to be on a stupid cot.

Familiar voices called out your name, and you looked up. Sam and Minks. You smiled, relief hitting you once more, the impact of it bringing tears of spent emotion to your eyes. As you stumbled to your feet, they rushed you, faces full of disbelief and joy.

“You did it!” said Minks.

“I knew you would,” Sam added. Minks hit him on the shoulder, and he grinned.

You nodded, crossing your arms. “It was close!” Pausing, you looked between them. “How did you guys find me?”

Sam shrugged. “Couldn’t find you in the hangar, thought you might have been injured or something.” He blinked. “Wait, what are you doing here?”

“Oh,” you said, cheeks reddening. “Panic attack. But I’m good now.”

“You sure?” Minks said.

“Really,” you said, “I’m fine.” A long sigh left you. “Let’s get out of here, huh?”

They nodded, and you walked in step with them back down the halls, listening as they regaled you with the tale of how Sam had started the transporter and Minks had helped pilot, and how they’d brought at least ten other people over with them. They seemed proud, exchanging broad smiles as they cooperatively rehashed the story. A needlepoint of jealousy poked at your heart--but you knew the door for that had long since closed. If you were to be alone, so be it.

“So what happened with you?” Minks said. “What was the deal with Hux and the shuttle?”

You sighed, shrugging. “Maybe another day,” you replied. “It’s a long story.”

Chapter Text

Walking to the medbay from the cafeteria took almost forty minutes--long enough to rethink a poor decision, you supposed. But a week of simmering had done you no good.

The rage in your belly had been feeding off of a dry kindling--your memories of Kylo Ren, on a loop inside of your mind, playing over and over and over, like a holodrama with no end. Every bit of your life was tainted with his presence--in the shower, you thought of water running in tiny rivers down his body. In the mess hall, you were reminded of how it felt to have three of his fingers curling inside of your cunt. And at night--oh, those were the worst ones.

At night, you didn’t just think of his body looming over yours, the length of his cock sliding into you, the hard, furious thrusting before being filled with his cum. No, your brain was far more insidious, instead forcing you to remember the warmth of his broad chest, the safety of his strong arms, the smell of his hair and that look in his eyes--the one that’d been burned into the cracks of your skull.

Those were the memories that haunted you at night, behind your lids while you fought to sleep. And it was those same memories that stoked the fire, that left the foulest, most bitter taste on your tongue. Why had he done this to you? Claimed you as his, made you feel--... and then--

Get away from me.

So it had only taken one sideways glance from Sam to Minks as they debated their upcoming assignments for you to snap, slam down your food, and start your march to an uncertain outcome. You imagined they wondered where you were going, especially in your oversized off-duty dress (given to all female refugees--one-size-fits-none)--something you’d just said you wouldn’t be caught dead in only minutes earlier.

During your journey, it became apparent just how many people on the Finalizer had nothing to do. The total number rescued was unknown to you--you just knew it was at the same time too many and too few, and that thankfully, none of the lost lives had name or a face you remembered. Even with their mass of resources, arranging appropriate assignments for every Starkiller refugee was taking time. More time than you wanted. To your surprise, though--you hadn’t yet been kicked out of an airlock. Perhaps you might stay.

Yet all of that was background noise to your growing tangle of spite. Initially, it had been scrawled into the forefront of your thoughts. But now, it had consumed your headspace, the only thing you could think about or even wanted to think about was Kylo Ren, and every moment he’d driven you deeper into the miserable, fucked-up hole you called home.

There’d been so many of them, and they flashed through your mind like blinking light, dragging you through a field of pain when every memory brought along a tacked-on emotion you hadn’t wanted to feel.

It couldn’t end at get away from me. You wouldn’t let it.

 When you arrived at the doors to the medbay, you surprised yourself when you realized your confidence hadn’t crumbled under the imposing pressure. Instead, you were somehow angrier, as if Kylo Ren were the sun, fueling you with rising heat the closer you came. The hatch flew open in front of you, and you held a breath, searching the beds. But he wasn’t in one of the beds. The flitting in your heart grew wilder.

 “Ma’am? Can I help you with something?”

 You spun on the medic, flames shooting from your eyes. “Commander Ren,” you said. “Important. Now.”

 The medic swallowed, nodded, and urged you to follow him, keeping his head bent to the floor. A tinge of guilt pricked you--you hadn’t wanted to scare him, really. You’d just wanted to appear serious, to have your motives unquestioned. Perhaps, though, the fear would serve your purpose just as well.

 Kylo Ren’s room was private, located in the back of the ward, a wide berth from every other patient still in recovery. You imagined this was for more their collective benefit than for his own.

 “Uh, right here, ma’am,” said the medic, and bowed out before scurrying back to his post.

 You stared at the hatch, trembling with a indiscernible mixture of fear and fury. Distantly, you were aware of your fingers folding in waves, an attempt to exorcise the excess energy coursing through your veins. But this practice hadn’t worked at any point during the previous week--and it wasn’t working now. You huffed frustrated air through your nose and charged through.

 Kylo Ren looked more pathetic than you anticipated. He was laid out on the hospital bed, torso stripped of every bit of clothing. Black and blue and green spots mottled his abdomen, reaching inches past the healing wound on his side. There were a few more patched areas--his shoulders, his right arm, and of course, his face. His gorgeous face, now marred by a long, blistering scar. Staring at it, you swallowed--they’d done a decent job of shrinking it, but it still looked fresh. Painful. You wanted to touch it.

 He gazed at you, blank. “My request was clear.” The gravel in his voice sent a chill to your toes.

 “You never listened to any of my requests,” you said, stepping forward. The hatch finally shut behind you. “Why should I listen to any of yours?”

 “I am your Commander,” he replied through clenched teeth.

 “And how commanding you look now, indeed,” you said, sneering.

 You came closer, scanning his body, admiring the collection of fresh scars on his torso. When you made it to the side of his bed, you noticed--below his waist, he was also naked, thin white sheets the only preservers of his dignity, draping lamely over the bulge of his soft cock.

 Frowning, you looked back at him. “I can’t believe you got me all wrapped up into feeling something for you.”

 He huffed, gaze drifting to the ceiling. “Those feelings were your choice, not mine.”

 “Choice or not, you fucked up my life.”

 “The path of your future is of no concern to me.”

 Your jaw dropped, gaze narrowing. “You’re a real fucking asshole, you know that?”

 Kylo regarded you with empty eyes. His silence turned your hands into fists, made your chin tremble with the pressure of your boiling blood. You hadn’t come here for him to just stare. Act like you were invisible to him. Like you were nothing--like you’d always been nothing. Because you hadn’t been. And you weren’t.

 “Answer me,” you hissed, voice shaking.

He said nothing, still, gaze not drifting from yours. The void in his pupils was maddening. You couldn’t even tell what he was thinking.

“Answer me, Ren.” You wanted a reaction. Any reaction.  

But he was mute.

Chest puffing, you growled, vision going black. “Fucking say something!”

It wasn’t until you felt the sting of his skin on the back of your hand and saw the red streaks of blood over your knuckles that you realized you’d slapped him, splitting the scab on his cheek. But that hadn’t been what shocked you--though it did play a part--no, what had shocked you was the quiet, wanton moan that left Kylo’s lips, lids fluttering while his body tensed against the bed. In awe, you gulped.

Holy shit.

Something strange was swirling inside of you--something wicked. Something that was growing fat and greedy on the months of misery he’d caused you. Something that wanted to see that happen again.

So you gave in--you reeled back your hand and flung it hard across his cheek, scraping blood over his face with a sharp smack. Kylo groaned again, clutching at the sheets as his hips bucked into the air, his swelling length poking lewdly from under the fabric. You watched, fascinated, when he collapsed back onto the mattress, eyes opening and considering you with what you could only describe as desperation.

Between that look and the throbbing tent between his legs, the fiendish urge inside of you was growing darker, coalescing with another, more primal feeling. A feeling you knew as pure lust.

Your lips curled cruelly. “You like that, don’t you?”

Kylo’s stare drifted between you and his hardening cock, exhaling in defiance. “You’ll have to try harder than that, little girl.”

A shrug. “I mean, okay then. You asked for it.”

Locking on to his gaze, you swung your knee onto the hospital bed, exposing your panties while your dress rode up around your hips. Brown eyes lingered between your legs as you climbed over him, straddling his thighs, his eager cock twitching to touch your cunt. The view was intoxicating--Kylo Ren, so helpless. So vulnerable.

“So weak,” you spat. Grinning, you dipped your hips so you skimmed the head of his dick, reveling in his full-body convulsion as a shaky breath left his lungs. He was still in pain. “Poor boy.” You slid a hand down the curves of your flesh, guiding your fingers back and forth over your heat while you bit your lip. “This is what you want, isn’t it?”

Kylo smirked. “Do you think you can make me beg?”

Scowling, you lowered yourself onto his covered arousal. “Not only that,” you said, and began dragging your hips back and forth. “I think I can make you scream.”  

He drew in a sharp breath, and you felt him pulse underneath you. “Not likely.”

He was starting to piss you off again. “Don’t tempt me, Ren.” You raked your nails down the expanse of his chest, watching red welts rise over his rippling muscles.

Another breath. He wasn’t giving in. “Look at this,” he said. “Pitiful.”

Jackass. “How’s this for pitiful?” Snarling, you bent forward, dropping your weight as you pushed your hands into his stomach, pressing down onto his wound. His face twisted in pain while he jerked and grunted, blood leaking out from the wrapping. That was an accident. “Fuck!” Heart flipping, you began to lean back, but Kylo caught you by the wrist, holding you still.

Gazing at him, you expected to be met with anger, hatred, a promise of revenge. But there was something different about him. Something strange.

Behind the need clouding his irises, all you could see was a reluctant plea. You wondered what had happened between when you’d seen him with that scavenger and when he’d been dragged onto the shuttle. Because for whatever reason, he wanted this. He needed this. And you were more than happy to oblige.

"You’re the pitiful one,” you said, and planted your palms back on his stomach, starting to grind him again. The friction of his needy cock sliding along your covered slit made you clench. “Look how hard you are. You’re pathetic.”

Kylo grunted again, bucking his hips, trying to grind back despite the pain of his injuries. Finding that impossible, his hands went to your waist, gliding up and down your thighs as he moved you faster along his member, craning his head forward to get a better view. You scowled and smacked him away.

“I didn’t say you could touch me,” you said. “Why would I want your hands on me? After everything you’ve done?”

His fingers balled into fists, exhaling when his head fell back against the pillow. You could feel him aching below you, already anxious to be inside of you. But he was still, hungry eyes trained on yours.

“That’s better,” you purred, and found the next words coming out before you’d even thought them. “Good boy.”

You rolled your hips against his, the sensation forcing air from his lungs as his fists tightened, fighting the urge to grip and feel your flesh. The power was dizzying, intoxicating, a heady concoction when blended with your overwhelming desire and rage. More than anything, now, you needed him to suffer. To beg. To know exactly how he’d made you feel.

Grinning, you lifted a hand to your lips, leading your tongue up and down the length of your crimson fingers. Sharp copper lit up your palate, and you shivered. “Mmm… you taste so good.” You met his gaze between the long licks of your digits, coating your mouth with his blood. “Wanna try?”

Kylo was silent, eyes following your tongue while he wet his lower lip.

You wrapped your lips around one of your fingers, humming while you sucked it clean, pumping it slowly in and out, finally pulling out it out with a wet pop. “You’ll have to ask if you want a taste.”

His cheeks grew pink as he responded with the tiniest, most imperceptible nod. The veins in his forearms poked out from the stress in his fists.

“Oh, no.” You dipped your fingers back into the pool of blood and painted your skin red before raising them back to your mouth. “You’ll have to do much better than that.”

A growl echoed in Kylo’s throat while he gripped your thighs, pushing you down onto his swollen cock. His own hips thrust against you, seeking any friction, any pressure at all from your heat. Frowning, you slapped his hand--and to your amazement, he withdrew, averting your gaze.

“These hands of yours are getting awfully rude,” you said. Searching the edges of the bed, you spotted restraints at the edges of the mattress, and grinned. “I think we need to do something about them.”

You bound each hand to the mattress, and he watched you, lips parted, eyes black with hunger, throbbing below you when the tightness pinched his wrists. After you finished, you sucked your digits clean of the blood that hadn’t already stained the bindings, rocking your hips on his erection, groaning as your clit grazed his length. His chin trembled as he halted a moan in his throat.

“Much better,” you said, pressing into his wound again. He seethed in pain, muscles hardening as more red fluid spilled onto his abdomen, which you gathered with your fingers and held in front of you. “Now, if you want this, you’ll have to ask for it nicely, okay?”

Kylo’s jaw was tight, clasping helplessly at the air while he stared at your digits. You snickered, moving them back toward your lips, but were stopped by an invisible force--the Force--keeping you there with a barely-tangible strength. He drew in a breath, focusing hard on drawing your hand to his mouth, shaking with the effort.

“Asshole!” you barked, smacking the gash on his face. Kylo grunted and dropped his hold on you, growling. His impudence only spurred you on, and you smeared his blood over his face, leaning close to him, nose centimeters from his. “I wonder--do you think you deserve to taste it from my mouth?”

He blew angry air from his nose, brows pinched together. Shaking your head, you bent back, giggling.

“You ready to beg, yet, Ren?”

“No.” His irises glimmered with mischief. He was enjoying this.

You smirked. So were you. “Fine.” You looked between his stomach and his mouth before shrugging. “Then I’ll make sure you won’t get the chance.”

The idea alone was making you ache with excitement, but, wanting to maintain your power, you kept your face and mind blank. You shifted above him, using his stomach for stability--earning another gasp and throb of his dick--while you stood, feet on either side of his thighs, wobbling when you reached your full height. Gazing into his eyes, you gathered the fabric of your dress to your waist, looping your thumbs around your panties. Biting your lip, you slowly rolled them down, and then back up again, teasing the view of your pussy you could see him longing for.

When you finally peeled them past your hips, he cracked, a moan escaping him as his cock tented the sheet above it. This by itself was enough to make you clench, your own need to get him inside of you beginning to burn. But you were ready to be patient. Carefully, you stepped out of your underwear and bunched it in your fist, sinking back down to straddle him. The rub of cloth on your clit and the heat of his length earned another clench from you--and you wondered if he could feel it through the sheet.

“Yes,” he said, disgustingly smug, “and how wet you are, too…”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, jackass, that’s enough.”

Your palm went back to his wound, digits digging at the gauze while your other hand soaked your panties with his blood. Kylo had no time to react before you stuffed them into his mouth, dying his full lips a dark shade of red. He groaned into the wad of material, swallowing while his eyes dared to roll back into his head.

Leaning back, you took inventory of your handiwork. His wrists bound, red smattering his skin, cock erect, pink mouth suckling on your panties and his blood. Kylo Ren--Commander of the First Order, Force-user, Jedi Killer--completely and totally powerless before you. The sight of him flailing against the bonds, chest heaving, soft moans leaking through his gag led your hand between your legs to skim your clit.

“Fuck,” you murmured, “you look perfect like this.”

Kylo’s dick was still covered by the sheet, still crying for attention--and seeing him like this, you decided to grant that. You ripped the cover from his waist, cheeks watering at the sight of his cock--flushed, hard, pre-cum weeping from the slit--and he met your stare, begging you silently to touch him, to soothe the fire between his legs.

Your first instinct was to take it into your mouth, suck it until he was screaming into your underwear--but no, he didn’t deserve the wet heat of your throat. Instead, you dipped your palm in the tiny, leftover puddle of blood, keeping his gaze as you drew a dark line up his shaft. At first contact, he cried, hips bucking into the air. Grinning, you dragged another line back down, your walls pulsing as he squirmed from just your finger.

This was payback. Your mind was busy with every bit of misery he’d caused you, bitterness at the distance he’d kept, unfettered wrath when you remembered the mess he’d made of your life. No job, no Sam, not even any fucking dignity. Yet he had the audacity to tell you: You get what you deserve.

Wrapping your digits around his cock, you slicked the shaft with his blood, glaring at him while he jerked and shook from your touch. It was incredible, watching him trying to thrust into your first, whimpering, head lolling while you sped your pace. His dick was bright red, now, wet with the combination of pre-cum and hemoglobin.  

“You’re filthy,” you said. “Getting off with your own blood. Is that how needy you are?”

Kylo moaned, still attempting to fuck into your hand.

“No.” You gripped him tighter, twisting your wrist as you stroked him. “You’re even worse than that. Look at you. You’d let me do anything to you if it meant getting me to touch your cock. Wouldn’t you?”

His lids were squeezed shut in pleasure as he panted into your underwear, pulsing under your fingers.

“You fucking disgust me,” you growled, thumb circling through a thick drop of pre-cum. “You call me yours, then tell me fuck off, but this is what you want?” Your fist started to pound his cock. “You’re always talking about what I deserve. Is this what you deserve, Ren?”

“Mmpf!” was his only reply, head snapping back and forth, thighs tensing, cock twitching. He was close.

“You know what you didn’t deserve?” you spat. “Me. Do you think you deserved me?” He was silent, and you snarled, tearing the panties from his mouth. “You never fucking deserved me, did you?” When he still failed to respond, you cracked him across the face, and he gasped. “Fucking answer me, Ren!”

“No!” he finally cried, his knuckles white. “Fuck!” Realizing he was at his peak, you released his cock, and he wailed in frustration, thrashing at his bindings, teeth grinding together. “Fuck! ”

“That’s right, you didn’t.” You laughed, shaking your head. The glee you felt at his torment was almost certainly sinful. “And I don’t think you deserve to cum yet, either.” Pursing your lips, you reached over to the patch on his abdomen, shredding off a thin section of the gauzy material. “After all,” you said, tying the strand around the base of his dick, “you haven’t made me cum. ”

Kylo shuddered while he drew in a long breath, attempting to still the excitement in his eyes. He was doing a poor job.

Straddling him once more, you ground down onto his length, his member slipping between your folds with ease. His flesh, warm and thick, grazed your clit, and you moaned, making a show of kneading your breast while you rocked into him.

“You like that?” you purred, biting your lip.

Kylo’s jaw was slack with desire, his voice laced with breathy need. “Yes.”

“Good boy.” Smiling, you leaned forward, tracing the outline of his lips with your fingers. “Such a pretty mouth you have, Ren,” you said. “I think I want to feel it on my cunt. Would you like that, too?”

He nodded, licking his lips. “Y-yes.” His words sent lights up your spine.

“So eager to please me,” you cooed.

As you moved up to straddle his head, you trapped a breath in your lungs, steadying your own quaking body. Your heart hammered in your chest, your cheeks flushed with heat. Kylo Ren was under your thumb, and it was exhilarating. Staring down at him, blood drying on his face and chin, eyes bleary with bliss and pain, you grinned--your cunt pulsing in anticipation.

“If you’re good, I might even let you cum inside of me.”

He nodded, and you lowered yourself onto his mouth, digits threading through his matted hair as he groaned into your flesh, slurping down the juices of your pussy. Immediately, he drew your clit between his teeth, tongue swirling circles around it, his plump lips soft against your swollen folds.

"Fuck,” you moaned, rolling your hips into his face. “Fuck, yes…”

Kylo hummed happily while he sucked at your sensitive nub, staring up at you, anxious for praise. You bit your lip, tugging on his thick waves and pulling him closer to your cunt. Waves of pleasure were rippling through you, your breath hitching as his expert mouth worked you closer and closer to climax. His lips sealed around your clit, and he moaned, sending vibrations out through your quivering thighs. Squealing, you dropped your hips, digging your fingers into his scalp.

“That’s it,” you mumbled, “fuck--do you like that?” He nodded, groaning in assent, and you growled, grinding your pussy into his face. “How does it feel, Ren? How does it feel to be used like a cheap toy?”

He whimpered, gaze never leaving yours, and you spit into the gash on his face, earning a sob at your cunt.

“This is all you’re good for, isn’t it--eating pussy?” you snarled. Kylo whined, making your brain go fuzzy with ecstasy. Words left you with little forethought--half of them feeling foreign. “Look at you. What kind of warrior ends up in this condition, hm? You’re a fucking failure. The only purpose you can offer is making me cum.” You bucked your hips. “Make me cum, you worthless animal.”

Groaning, Kylo’s lids shut tight as he ravaged your clit with his tongue, sucking fervently at your pussy, his velvety lips massaging your folds. Pleasure was coursing through you, now, your head falling back, lids closing while you rocked in rhythm with his mouth. Every word leaving you was a curse, and between every word was a strangled moan, resonating through your throat as you yanked his hair like reins, teetering on the edge. Kylo growled, nuzzling into you--and you were done.

“Yes--fuck, yes!” you cried. “ Fuck!”

Your hips jerked at his head, nails piercing his scalp as euphoria flooded you. Kylo thrust his tongue into your core, your walls pulsing around him, and he whimpered, lapping at your juices while you rode out your orgasm. As your aftershocks rumbled through you, you panted, rocking your pelvis on his face before releasing him and leaning back. Kylo was swallowing air, his lips and chin gleaming with smudges of blood and cum, looking exhausted, eyes glossy and wet.

“So good,” you said, finger following the line of his jaw. Sighing, you eased yourself back until you were on either side of his hips again, hovering over the red, dripping length of his cock. You trailed your digits up its hot, swollen shaft, and he whined. The tie around the base was doing its job. “You want me to fuck you, Ren?”

He took another breath, unable to meet your gaze, hands stretching toward you to no avail. You swatted the side of his stomach, and he tensed, grunting.

“Do you want me to fuck you, or not?”

Kylo nodded, still looking to the wall. “Yes.”

You squeezed his shaft, stroking it slowly as a wicked smile twisted your mouth. Revenge was sweet. “Beg for it, boy.”

Wincing, he writhed, as if the thought of pleading you to ride his cock caused him physical pain. He seemed poised to resist, but when you teased feather-light touches along the underside of his dick, his facade crumbled, hips seeking more of you while he moaned.

“Go on,” you said. “Beg for my cunt.”

“Fuck--fuck me,” he mumbled.

Shaking your head, you circled the head of his cock, glazing it with pre-cum. “You know what you’re supposed to say.”

Kylo was shuddering. So close to breaking. “Please.”

You licked your finger and stroked a long, languid line up his cock. “All together now.”

“Fuck,” he hissed, sputtering your name, “please, fuck me, please. I need you.”

His words made you clench--at this rate, you might need to cum twice. “Good boy...”

Holding your breath, you positioned your core over his member, releasing a deep, lengthy moan when you sank onto him, stretching wide to sheathe his hard, aching cock in your wet cunt. The sound that escaped Kylo’s chest was somewhere between a sob and a scream, body lifting from the bed as you enveloped him to the hilt. You leaned forward, putting your palms on his stomach, shifting your weight to the heels of your hands while you began to slide up and down on his shaft.

“Fuck,” you said. “I missed this cock… shit, you feel good…”

Kylo’s only response was a string of shameless moans, his eyes in the back of his head, his body drunk on pleasure and pain. All he could do was rock with you, abdominals tightening underneath your palms. You panted, bouncing on his dick, driving him deep into your cunt with every movement.

Having control was entirely different--you were able to drag him into you, squeeze him tight with your walls while you slowed your pace, slam down onto him and make him howl. Having his base tied tight let you sit on his hips and clench around him, knowing he wouldn’t be able to cum until he was released. You watched him struggle below you, realizing he was trapped at his peak--and you were happy about it. This. This was close to what he deserved.

“I fucking hate you,” you growled. “You ruined my fucking life, and now you want to act like I never existed?” You pounded his side with a fist, and he flinched. “It doesn’t fucking work like that, Ren. Do you get that?”

Between his pained moans, Kylo managed to shake his head, only growing louder the harder you rode him. “My loyalty is--”

“I don’t give a fuck what the Supreme Leader or whoever-the-fuck says.” Your voice was strained with exertion, sweat growing on your forehead. “If I’m yours, you’re mine. You got that? I don’t belong to you.” A particularly hard stroke, and he yelped. “You belong to me. ” Your nails nipped his skin. “Say it.”

Kylo grunted, teeth bared, trying to will himself to cum despite his bond. Water beaded at the corners of his eyes, his face red.

“If you want to cum, you’ll fucking say it,” you demanded. “Say who you belong to.”

He was still silent, and you scowled, pushing your knuckles into his wound, hips slamming down onto him. As this, he wept, tears streaming down his ruddy cheeks, and you could feel him throbbing and heavy inside of you, wanting, needing to spill hot cum into your cunt.

“Say it, Ren!”

“No!” he stammered. “No!”

You shrugged. “Okay. That’s fine.” You slid off of him, sitting back on your heels as you undid the tie around his dick, near-purple with need, then reached and released a hand from its restraints. “Jerk off. Show me how you cum for me.”

Kylo almost anticipated the instruction, fisting his shaft and savagely jerking his dick, head flung back into the mattress while he fought for air through his gasping breath. He was only seconds away, you knew, and you watched, waiting for him to to reach his peak.

“Fuck, yes, fuck--fuck--” he groaned. You made your move.

Just before Kylo hit his climax, you snatched his hand from his cock, leaving him dangling, sobbing as he cursed and spat your name, fighting your grip, too weak to break free. You snickered, brushing the head of his dick with the tip of your finger, and it was over. Against his will, Kylo came into nothingness, cock bobbing and twitching in fury as cum dribbled down his shaft, the pleasure and release of his orgasm lost in the spilt seed.

“No!” he cried, sniffling, head flipping back and forth on the bed. “No! Why!”

You exhaled, pleased with your work, and then gathered a handful of sticky cum, soiling his wounds with his semen. He hissed through clenched teeth while you dragged the rest over his chest, using his sheet to wipe your hand clean.

“I told you,” you said. “You’re mine. I control if you orgasm. I control when you orgasm. And if I so please, I can ruin your orgasm.”

He was wordless, still catching his breath while you hopped off of him, steadying yourself with the side of the bed. You used the edge of the covers to clear any other unwanted stains, feeling the spear of his gaze boring into you. Remembering your sullied panties, you shrugged and tossed them on his chest before walking toward the door.

You looked back at him, wanting to capture this moment in a holo. He was absolutely, utterly wrecked, his cock limp on his leg, flesh covered in blood and cum, still trembling in grief from his stolen orgasm. That’s what he deserved.

“Get well soon, Ren,” you said, and disappeared through the hatch.

Chapter Text

General Hux sighed, face dull. “It is with great reluctance that I meet with you, today.”

“Uh, yes, sir?” It wasn’t as if you were jumping for joy at the chance to sit in his office. Though the view out of his window was pretty great--you had to admit. You wondered what star system you were in.

“It was my initial desire that you be jettisoned off the Finalizer to your new assignment, as was planned.” Hux paused, holding you in his icy gaze. “However…”

Heart leaping, you sat up straighter, fingers bunching the fabric of your pants. “Yes, sir?”

He lifted an eyebrow, turning back toward the wall. “However, the skill you displayed during the collapse of Starkiller demonstrated that you may still be needed here.” Another pause--you could hear the rush of blood behind your eardrums. “You will train the Chief Engineer on the shuttle until he reaches your competence level. Following this, he will train your replacement. When all is satisfactory, you will be moved to your new assignment.”

“Oh.” Your chest tightened, and you pulled your lips over your teeth, nodding. “Yes, sir. Understood.”

“And one more thing.” Hux faced you again. You felt like an insect under his gaze. “Ren’s already aware--but under no circumstances are either of you to associate or communicate with one another, by decree of the Supreme Leader. Should you continue to prove a distraction for him, you will be eliminated.” He glanced down at his desk. “You report to your assignment beginning today. Dismissed.”

You blinked. “Uh, wait--eliminated--”

“Dismissed .” He hadn’t even bothered to look at you.

Clearing your throat, you nodded, pushing off from your chair and stomping back onto the bridge, ignoring the eyes that followed you out of the hatch. You couldn’t believe you’d waited three weeks just to be told how useless you were. Back to being the Command Shuttle’s bitch, back to being expendable. An annoying voice in the rear of your mind chided you--of course you were expendable. What had Kylo Ren said to you, the very first time you had met?

Remember who it is that you work for. You are expendable. Understood?

At the rate you were grinding your teeth, you’d end up with nubs in a month. Not that you were still angry about Kylo Ren. Definitely not. In fact, you were certain you’d spent all the anger you’d had in the medbay two weeks ago. You were basically already over him, like, entirely. Two weeks  was enough time for that. A couple more weeks, and you’d probably even stop thinking about him every ten minutes. No doubt. Yep.

You arrived at the docking bay, shadowed by the dark cloud of your demeanor. The Command Shuttle’s diagnostic terminal was empty--how welcoming--and you stood, lost, unsure if you needed to start on the inspection or if you were expected to wait. Train the Chief Engineer? What did Jakar Saul need to learn from you? Though, you supposed that was a self-defeating line of thought. You knew that Jakar respected your input and your skill. Training him wouldn’t be so bad.

A low, gruff voice called out your name--Jakar himself--and your head swiveled to face him. He was yards away, at the main terminal.

“Hey, Jakar,” you replied, putting on your bravest face as you waved at him. You wondered how much he knew. “Good, uh, good to see you!”

Jakar waved back, beckoning you over to him. “Get over here! Got some news for ya!”

Raising an eyebrow, you trudged to the terminal. Jakar stood there, a wide, kind grin on his face, and you felt your defenses drop. If only you could have stayed on the Finalizer that first time. If only Kylo Ren hadn’t decided to distract you from your assignment.

Not that you were mad. No. Still totally over the whole thing.

“What’s up, Jakar?” You crossed your arms, leaning against the terminal. “Don’t tell me this is another bad news-bad news situation.”

He sighed. “Well…”

A groan left you. “Come on, dude.”

“Okay, okay,” he said. “The good news is, even with all of the refugees being eased in, you’ll still be working with Loren and that Foster kid. They’re out on their assignments now.” He paused. “They seem to be getting along--”

“Got it, got it,” you said, biting your tongue. Not mad. “The bad news?”

“With all of the refugees being eased in…” His mouth was a firm line. “I’m being asked to help out on another bay. You’re gonna be working under someone else.”

“Someone else?” Your heart sunk. Jakar had been the only reason you were tolerating this time-limited assignment. “Who?”

He shrugged. “Only met the guy a few times. Worked a solitary shift on one of the hangars. So, this’ll be his first time supervising anybody. Or, working with anybody, really.”

You cocked a brow. “And he’s getting promoted to Chief Engineer because…”

“The guy’s good at his job, I know that much.” Jakar folded his arms. “Anyway. I just thought you’d wanna hear it from me before you got started. I heard you’d been having a rough go of it.”

Blood burned your cheeks. “Uh, really,” you said, averting your gaze. “What, uh, what did you hear?”

“Loren told me you’d been suspended again. Personal problems.” His eyes crinkled in sympathy. “Don’t worry, you don’t have to explain it to me. We all got stuff.”

“Do we?” you said, glancing at your feet. Somehow, you were certain most people hadn’t been suspended for fucking Kylo Ren. “Guess so.”

Jakar gave you a pat on the shoulder--something comforting in any other context, probably. “Listen, I gotta get going. New guy should be here within the hour. In the meantime, I’d just keep yourself busy on the shuttle, yeah?"

You nodded. “Got it. See ya, Jakar.”

“Good luck.” He shot you another grin before leaving you at the terminal.

Air filled and emptied out of your lungs while you made your way onto the shuttle. A new boss. Part of you wanted to stay positive, but the other part was ready to be as cantankerous and disagreeable as possible. Oh, sure, you’d teach the new guy. But you wouldn’t make it easy on him. You might even just… accidentally teach him something incorrect. Accidentally.

The shuttle’s interior had experienced little activity since landing three weeks ago. With Kylo Ren incapacitated and hundreds of former Starkiller officers to attend to, you supposed any concerns regarding the shuttle’s repairs had fallen to the wayside. The panels in the cockpit were still disassembled, and one of the engines was still out of commission. Somehow worse than that, though, were the muddy bootprints tracked on the floor, leading to the bench where you’d watched them lay out Kylo Ren. You could see it, even from the cockpit--the blackened blot of blood, staining the seat. Bile curdled in your stomach.

No, you totally didn’t care about him anymore. Really.

You continued to tell yourself this, even when you found your fingers pinching hard at the inflexible panels while you returned them to their appropriate locations. Even when you started slamming them down with more force than necessary. Even when you flung the engine hatch into the wall--your eardrums throbbing from the metal trill--did you tell yourself this. Because you weren’t bothered. Not in the least.

There was more work to do than you’d remembered--you’d only just begun inspecting the engine from the interior access when you heard footfalls on the ramp. They weren’t the quick, tripping steps of Minks Loren--nor were they the heavy, urgent strides of Kylo Ren. You pursed your lips, pulling your torso from the engine chamber and facing the ramp, waiting for the waster of your time to emerge.

He came up head first--a curly mop of russet hair, and a long, ovular face, green eyes, and a lopsided mouth, like someone had tugged on his cheek too many times as a child. He was tall, lanky--gangly, even--dressed in a chief’s uniform that hung loose from his frame. Your new boss, you knew. Yet if you were being honest, he seemed far less comfortable with the idea than you did, judging from how wide his stare became when he met your gaze.

“Hey.” He held out his hand, and you shook it, feeling the quick appraisal of his eyes over your figure. “You’re, uh. You’re the engineer? For the shuttle?”

Your brow furrowed. “Man, I hope all of your employees feel this welcome on their first day.”

“Oh, shit--I mean, uh, shoot.” He winced. “I mean--... Name’s Dash Damarcus. They call me Double Dee, though.”

“Double Dee?” you said, crossing your arms. “Do they, really?”

Dash looked crestfallen. “Well--no, not yet, but it was something I was hoping to, uh…”

This was going to be more difficult than you had anticipated. “Look, it’s fine--Dee.” You introduced yourself, holding your breath--who actually wanted to be called Double Dee ? “Yes, I’m the engineer on the shuttle. And I’m guessing you’re the Chief Engineer I’m training.”

He nodded, scratching the back of his head. “Uh, yeah. Hey, I’m sorry. I haven’t done anything like this before--and then I wasn’t really expecting a girl--”

“Wow.”

“I mean--dammit.” He groaned, neck craning back onto his shoulders. “Can you just--show me. Maybe. What you’re doing now? And then we can call it a day.”

You rolled your eyes. “Sure.” As you reached into the engine access, you stopped yourself and looked at him. “You know what. I have to finish up these repairs. I’d rather just teach you everything from the beginning. Do you think you could... come back tomorrow, and we’ll start there?”

“Oh.” Dash’s gaze flitted around the shuttle. He seemed torn between respecting your request and ignoring any order from an inferior officer. The unfamiliarity with his position was plain on his face. You imagined the impatience in your eyes convinced him to leave. “Oookay. You’re right. I’ve done enough for today.” Nodding to himself, he turned and started down the ramp. His confidence seemed to return once he was out of sight, and he called up into the shuttle, “Report, uh, at o-six-hundred, officer.”

0600 was pretty damn early. But he was the boss, now. “Yes, sir.”  You sighed. He didn’t seem like the worst . Maybe you could even try and be positive about the whole thing.

Surprising yourself, you’d been able to finish coordinating the repairs for the Command Shuttle and make it to the mess hall without having to stay even an hour past your shift time. You’d intended to sit alone, run through the day again--Hux, Jakar, Dash, Kylo Ren--there were far too many men making your life difficult.

And, as if on cue, Sam and Minks took seats across from you, far too cheerful and bubbly for their own good. You hadn’t yet forgotten what Sam had done to you, nor had your heart forgotten how he once made it flutter--but it’d been over a month, now. The only option left to you was to move on.

“Hey, guys,” you said, twirling your utensil in your food. “How’s it going.”

“I saw that you’re back on duty!” Minks’ smile took up half of her face, as usual. “It’s about time!”

She and Sam had already been back for a week. “Yeah, well.” You looked between them, shrugging. “It’s only temporary.”

“Temporary?” she asked.

“Yeah,” you said. “After I finish training that new Chief Engineer, I get to oversee him training my replacement. Then I’m off to whatever deserted planet Hux has in store for me."

“Oh,” Minks said, frowning. A short pause.

“So!” Sam clapped his hands together. “What did you think of him? The new boss?”

You set your jaw in thought, chewing a bite as you gathered your words. “I don’t know. He seemed pretty awkward. Kind of rude, to be honest.”

“Huh,” Minks said, looking to Sam. “We thought he seemed cool.”

He nodded. “Yeah. Friendly. Clearly knows his stuff.”

You cocked a brow. “Are we talking about the same person? Dash Damarcus? Double Dee?”

Minks exploded into giggles. “Double Dee ?” she said, covering her face with her hands. “Is that your nickname for him!”

“What?” You held up your palms, cheeks red. “No, no! He told me to call him that! He didn’t--he didn’t ask you--”

“No!” she replied. Sam’s gaze flipped between you and her, lips twitching in amusement, and Minks caught her breath. “You’re blushing! Do you have a crush on him, or something!”

You scowled, face on fire. “Wow, Minks. Low blow, there.”

Her laughter died, jaw dropping as the cold realization washed over her. Even Sam’s skin was pink.

“Oh, no,” she said. “That’s--that’s not what I meant at all, I promise, I--”

“No, no.” You dropped your utensil on your plate, staring tunnels into your food before meeting her gaze. “It’s fine. I get it. Obviously, I just want to sleep with any man who gives me orders, right?”

Minks’ face crumbled, eyes welling with water. “Hey, no, I--” Her shoulders slumped to the floor. “You know that’s not what I meant.”

Glancing between her and the food, your chest released a long, deep sigh. Logically, of course, you knew that she had just been trying to tease you, that she hadn’t even thought about your connections with Sam, or Kylo Ren. Emotionally, though, you were hurt--terrified, even--that this was already your reputation. Part of you wondered if you’d have been better off being tossed into space like Hux had wanted. What was the point of a career if everyone figured you’d slept your way into it?

“Yeah.” You nodded, giving her a half-smile. “I know. It’s okay.” Exhaling, you grabbed your plate. “I should get going, though. Damarcus wants me to be there at o-six-hundred tomorrow.”

Sam frowned. “Pretty dang early.”

“I know, right?” You shrugged. “Oh well. See you guys tomorrow. Probably.”

After bidding them farewell, you tossed your leftovers in the garbage and began the walk back to your cot. You’d given up on hoping for a real bed--you were sure that eventually, your back would grow used to the strain. After all, your assignment on the Finalizer had an end-point, now. An unwelcome memory of Kylo Ren’s bed flashed through your mind. If only you were sleeping there, instead.

No. No. You didn’t want to do that. You didn’t care to do that. Because you were done with Kylo Ren. You hated him, in fact, and--

Loud. Very loud. Piercing through your eardrums into your brain. Ringing. A pressure on your cranium. All of it so familiar, too familiar, and you crumpled against the wall, grimacing, gripping your head, pulse pounding at your skull. Your teeth grinding once again, you tucked your chin into your chest, rubbing your temples, sucking in breath through your clenched jaw.  After what seemed like minutes--but what you knew to be seconds--the pain receded, and your lids opened.

You’d been expecting him, sure, but that hadn’t abated your shock. He looked--different. His mask. Somehow the same, somehow entirely new. There were portions of it that didn’t align in your memory. But you supposed that only made sense--you hadn’t seen him carry the old one onto the shuttle. You weren’t sure how long you’d gawked, open-mouthed, waiting for him to speak--but the moment never came. After holding you in his gaze for an eternity, he turned, marching away.

A shaky breath rattled your lungs while you watched him. He was walking again. That was good. Well, actually. Who cared. Whatever. You’d taught him his lesson. Fuck him .

Meters down the hall, Kylo Ren stopped, as if he’d been jerked by a leash, and then turned, stalking back over to you with such speed that you’d only had time to straighten your back before he pounced, hands slamming the wall inches from your head. Everything in your line of sight was black, heaving, and tense.

“As loud as ever.” The vocoder hadn’t changed much.

Trembling. Your entire body was trembling, but you didn’t want him to know. You didn’t want to acknowledge it, either. Because you didn’t care about him--right?

Glaring holes into his visor, you drew in a slow breath. “You could get me killed, talking to me.”

“Then let’s not talk.”

Kylo’s fingers went to the sides of his helmet, and you heard the snap and hiss of its release--but he exposed only his nose and chin, holding it up with one hand while the other snagged your jaw. You were helpless as he angled his head to press his soft lips onto your own, the sound of air rushing into his nostrils even louder than the quiet moan he breathed into your mouth. Against your will, your lids closed, warmth rushing over you, and you collapsed back into the wall, Kylo’s massive frame almost stumbling to follow you.

His kiss was wet and desperate, scorching your body with forgotten heat, your thighs pressing together while he moved his mouth over yours. Then his hand left your chin and jammed its way down the front of your pants, long leather fingers immediately brushing and teasing your clit. You bucked into his touch and groaned--half-surprise, half-need--but before you could thrust your tongue into his mouth, he pulled away, shoving his helmet back down and locking it.

Lips quivering, you could only stare. He’d ripped you open, leaving your body raw, sore, and aching--aching for him, for his touch. Kylo’s shoulders were swelling to match your own, the thread of forbidden desire taut between your bodies. Every bit of your faux-apathy had melted in front of him. You’d been proven right--Kylo Ren wanted you--and you didn’t know whether to feel victorious or terrified.

Adjusting your pants, you gazed at your feet. “Well, I should really get going--”

“My quarters,” he said. “Two hours.”

You gulped, heart stalling. This was a mistake. “Commander, if I’m caught--”

“Then don’t get caught.” His chest fell in a huff. “I’ll be expecting you.”

Kylo Ren spun on his heel and strode back down the hall, fists furling. Hux’s words echoed like an alarm in your head. You will be eliminated. And yet despite them, here you were, somehow considering intentionally disobeying his orders. One half of you was chanting, wringing its hands: what if we get caught? What if we get caught?

But the other half--dark, scheming, devilish--needed only a whisper, ghosting over your ear with liquid lust:

What if we don’t?

Chapter Text

Two hours was a surprisingly long time to consider whether or not you wanted to risk your head for some dick. Most people, you supposed, would identify this as a non-issue--of course it wasn’t logical to endanger your life just for sex.

But most people had never had sex with Kylo Ren.

That was your only explanation as to why you found yourself standing outside of Kylo Ren’s quarters two hours following his request. Anxiety was strangling your heart, your foot tapping at the tiled floor while you waiting for the hatch to open in front of you--as it always had. But you’d stood there for all of 30 seconds, arms crossed, eyes darting from the floor to down the hall--and gotten nothing.

The rational side of your brain was thunking you on the forehead, fretting about the stupidity of this idea. Yes, continue standing out in the open in front of Kylo Ren’s quarters. That won’t look suspicious at all. They’ll certainly be swift with your death. Even still, you wanted to stay. Wanted to see him. Because you knew that he knew--under all of the verbalized denial--that this wasn’t just sex. Not anymore.

You were jolted from your thoughts when the hatch whooshed open, followed by a dark, dangerous voice in your ear.

“Get in.”

“Shit!” you whispered, swiveling to face him. “Where did you even come from! How do you do that!”

Kylo Ren gripped your shoulders, shoving you over the threshold. When the door hissed shut behind him, you pivoted on your heel, glaring straight at his mask. For a moment, you’d almost forgotten how big he was--his shoulders alone nearly filled the frame of the entrance--the inky darkness of the hall creeping onto his robes made him seem all-encompassing, as if he was crafted from black shadows. It was only then you realized that you were, essentially, trapped.

“I really shouldn’t be here,” you said. “This... General Hux said--”

“Enough.” Kylo stepped forward, dragging the net of shade with him. Your heart thumped. Something else did, too.

“What do you want from me?” You folded your arms across your chest. “Thought we had a mutual understanding.”

He took another step. “Did we?” Another one. “I don’t remember reaching any understanding.” Now his body was within arm’s length. “Perhaps you can enlighten me.”

You swallowed the ache in your throat. “You told me to get away from you, I fucked you up for being an asshole. We’re even. Done.”

Static from the mask. Kylo was inches from you, your breath buffeting his cloth chest, his hidden gaze so magnetic that you hadn’t even noticed the hand reaching to pinch your jaw until you felt the clamp of warm leather at your chin. He squeezed, forcing your lips to purse under his stare.

“Done?” His voice rumbled in your ears. “Do tell.”

“You tell!” The hair on your neck was standing in irritation. “You’re the one who told me to get away! To get out. All of that. You said it.”

“And you didn’t listen.” The pad of a leather thumb traced your bottom lip. “In fact, you did much more than fail to listen.” He whipped your head to side and planted the cold muzzle of his mask into your exposed neck, holding you in place with another hand at the small of your back. “You made me remember.”

Your skin was gooseflesh from the neck down, your thighs fighting off the warmth glowing between them. “R-remember what?”

More static. He was amused. “How I have to destroy you, pet.”

An electric thrill shot up your spine, sparking low in your belly and shuddering the air in your ribcage. You fought to keep your neck from craning back, but it was too late--you were wilting into his hands, an automatic response you lacked the will to fight. And even if you’d wanted to, you wouldn’t, knowing he could hear your arousal ringing like bells in your brain.

You whimpered, trying to wriggle out of his grip--but he had you caged. “Kylo, we’re going to get caught.”

He stepped into you, slinking a gloved hand up the back of your shirt, leather skimming your skin. The drag of seams on your sensitive flesh made you shiver in his arms--and underneath his mask, you heard his breath catch in delight. His fingers had found the clasp of your bra, fiddling with it as he pushed you further into his body.

“Kylo,” you mumbled, “please. If Hux--”

“He won’t.” Kylo bit the words between his teeth while he popped the last hook on the band.

You rolled your eyes. “And how do you know that?”

But he didn’t respond, instead pulling your top up your back, tugging at it in effort to get you to raise your arms. Groaning, you drove the heels of your palms into his biceps, trying to shove him off, but he only jerked you closer, growling.

“This will be far less fun for you if you continue to fight me.”

“This is a mistake,” you said. “This is a bad idea. I’ll be--”

Kylo’s fists balled around the fabric in his fingers. “I’ve already said you won’t. Enough.”

“You just expect me to believe you?”

“Yes.”

You choked a laugh. “Oh, right. Because that’s worked out so well for me in the past.”

The hand on your chin gathered your wrists, holding them above you while his other hand yanked your top past your head. He released you for only a moment--and when you went to move, to drop your arms, you found you couldn’t--frozen in place. Okay, so, he was fully recovered then.

“You fucker,” you grumbled.

“Mm.”

Kylo pulled your shirt past your wrists, tossing it onto the floor, your unhooked bra following it seconds later, nipples puckering as they hit the air. You’d nearly forgotten how it felt to be so helpless, so exposed. You’d also nearly forgotten how much you loved it--but your body was eager to remind you, heat dripping like oil into the pit of your belly.

Leather gloves palmed at your breasts, the visor of his mask locked onto your chest, seemingly mesmerized by the way your flesh responded to the lazy caress of his digits. You held your breath, watching him, the intensity of his attention and focus bringing a clench below your waist. And you still couldn’t move your arms.

“Can you let me go?” you asked, frowning.

He was silent, mask tilting to take in the rest of your body before rising to your gaze. “Will you be a good girl?”

You snorted. “Am I ever?”

A pause. Kylo’s hands grasped the sides of his helmet, and it unhitched with a whine. While you watched him pull it from his head, your blood stilled in your veins, the memory of his searing scar flashing in your retina. Yet, when it fell to the floor, your anxiety evaporated. The scar was clean, still pink with the growth of new skin, cutting a jagged line across his face--and, to your surprise, it hadn’t made an ounce of difference. He looked as beautiful as he ever had.

The Force released your body, but it didn’t matter--Kylo’s hands circled your wrists again, his lips crashing into yours when he guided you to the wall, your back bracing against the cold steel of the hallway. He didn’t keep on your mouth for long, kissing wet marks along your jaw, up to your ear, where he drew your lobe between his teeth, nibbling it with hot breath.

How did you always end up against the wall? “That’s not really letting me go.”

“I haven’t forgotten what you did to me.” His free hand was undoing your trousers, bunching them down your hips. “I think you’re the only one who can fix it.”

You squirmed under his grip, the exposure of your panties and thighs making you tremble. “W-what do you mean?”

Kylo slid a finger under the hem of your underwear, giving a longing pull. “I mean…” He started to inch those down, too, and you whimpered. His voice was low and soft in your ear. “I’m going to fuck every one of your holes until they’re dripping with my cum.”

His words liquefied your bones, your body turning to a puddle of lust at his feet. You couldn’t stop the anxious contraction of your cunt--nor could you help the moan that rumbled in your throat as your head lolled to the side, neck aching for his lips. He obliged you, latching onto your heartbeat and sucking a welt into your skin.

“Fuck,” you mumbled. Your panties were around your ankles now, too, his digits dancing along the inside of your thighs, the sensitive mound of your pussy. The threat of your death seemed distant and fuzzy. “Fuck, I hate you.”

“So you say. And yet…” He brushed your clit, and you whined. “Your body breaks for me.”

“Fuck you, dude.”

“Hm.” He pulled away, surveying your flushing figure. “I know which one is going first.”

With that, Kylo hoisted you over his shoulder, pulling off your shoes and letting your clothes fall to the floor, leaving you completely naked. You rocked with his heavy steps while he made his way into his bedroom, slapping your ass before tossing you like baggage onto his mattress. The bed was so soft, so forgiving, and you hadn’t slept in anything but a cot for three weeks. But you weren’t given much time to relax--Kylo was leering at you, eyes ravenous as he stalked along the perimeter of the bed frame. Silent, he held out his hand, and your trousers were drawn into them.

You raised a brow. “What the--”

Kylo snatched your wrists, binding them together with one leg of your pants, tying the other to the middle of his headboard, leaving you spread out and vulnerable before him. Your heart was a loud, steady beat, knocking at your sternum, sending the hot blood of desire racing through your veins.

“Is that really necessary?” you asked. If you could use the Force, you’d find any excuse.

“No.” He stepped back, rubbing at the bulge between his legs. “But you look far more beautiful this way.”

You swallowed. How were you supposed to respond to that?

Keeping his gaze stuck to yours, he sauntered to the bed, climbing on straddling your head. You were only inches away from the evidence of his need, now, and your cheeks watered, thighs pushing together to give your stiffening clit some friction. Kylo’s face was wiped blank while he fussed with his pants, and when he finally released his cock, he let it rest on your lips, smirking only when you fought with your urge to draw its hot, smooth length into your mouth.

“Even now, you can’t resist me. Naughty slut.” He wove his hand through your hair, lifting your head. “Are you going to beg for me, pet?”

You didn’t want to--not really--even though your cunt was already pulsing at the thought. Even though the word “pet” made your heart ache with glee and desire. Even though, in this moment, you wanted nothing more than to please him--you didn’t want to beg. Because then you’d be gone. You’d be his. You’d be in danger--again.

And yet--

“Please, Commander.” Your voice was deep and soft, alien to your own ears. “Please, let me suck your cock.”

“Mm--good girl,” he purred. “Open.”

You did, and he gripped your hair, pushing himself into you. Without thinking, you groaned on his length, legs writhing with arousal as he inched himself along your squirming tongue. Kylo Ren was biting his lip, watching your own lips stretch around his dick, watching you stare up at him with large, obedient eyes. He throbbed in your mouth, and you swallowed, the pool of your spit mixing with pearls of salty pre-cum.

Kylo grunted, pulling out and thrusting back in, and in and out again, lips parting while you whimpered and choked on the size of his cock. You tried to hollow out your cheeks, to move your tongue against him as you started to suck, but the angle and his size made it too difficult--every snap of his hips earned another gag from you.

“Poor thing,” he said. “Am I too big for your dirty little mouth?”

Nodding, you attempted to groan your agreement, but found yourself muffled by a deep thrust into your throat. You retched, trying to get off of his length, but another hand seized the back of your head, holding you there, tears and drool sliding to your jaw while he rocked into you. Every noise from your chest was a stifled whimper, and your now swollen clit was begging to be played with. But he was ruthless, fingers burrowed into your face, cock fucking hard into your throat, and when you squeezed shut your lids, he growled.

“Look at me, whore,” he ordered. “Look at me when I’m fucking you. Know whose cum you’re about to taste.”

You did, gazing at him with cloudy eyes, your throat sore, lips and tongue going numb with his brutal thrusting.

“Good girl,” he moaned, “so good... fuck…”

Kylo shifted, craning your head back, plunging deeper into your neck, seething in pleasure when you whined on his cock, your cheeks burning red with tears. His breath was coming fast, his dick pulsing urgently in your mouth, and then he was cursing, hissing your name, hips jerking in sloppy thrusts. He pulled out, fisting his length.

“Open.”

You did, and he growled, shooting hot ropes of white cum onto your mouth and eyes, hips still rolling while he fucked his hand through the end of his climax. As he caught his breath, he looked down at you, your jaw jacked open, his bitter cum collecting on your tongue and sticking one of your lids shut.

“Go on,” he said. “Swallow it.”

Groaning, you swallowed, eye twitching as it opened despite the pull of his seed on your lashes. You were gasping now, too, head falling onto the mattress when he dropped you, and you sighed, wondering when he would clean the rest of his release from your face.

Kylo snickered, easing off of you. “I won’t be.”

“Uh, what?”

“We’re not done yet.”

Your heart skipped. “But you--”

He clucked his tongue. “Don’t you listen, foolish girl?” He swooped over you, his hands coming down beside your shoulders, his breath ghosting your ear. “I said I’d fuck every hole.”

Fire ate your skin, and you whinged, kicking and fighting at your restraints. Your fingers were itching to run through his hair, your lips buzzing for his own, but he paid you no heed, hands sliding along the sides of your arms while he pressed soft kisses into your neck. He was already drawing quiet mewls from your throat, growing louder as he descended to your clavicle, skimming his tongue along it.

Your body arched into his touch, toes curling when he went lower still, hot lips marking a trail to your breasts. Kylo gathered one in his hand, sucking the other into his mouth, smirking against your skin when you whined, biting your lip to hold back your near-incessant noise. But he must have taken this as a challenge, flicking his tongue at the tip of your nipple, rolling the other between the pads of his leather digits. When you still didn’t break, his other hand slithered down your belly, tapping your clit like it was made of glass.

“S-shit!” You flung your head to the side, bucking your pelvis into his touch. “Please, Kylo, please!”

Kylo looked up from your breast, dropping your nipple from his mouth with a frown. “Is that how I taught you to ask for what you want?”

You groaned. Gods, he was insufferable sometimes.

“I heard that.”

“Ugh!” You took a breath. “Commander, could you please do that again, sir?”

He huffed in amusement. “And what exactly is that, pet? Be specific.”

Blood burned your face. “You know what, forget it--” He grazed your clit again. “--fuck! Commander, please! Please rub my clit, sir!”

Kylo growled in satisfaction. “Good girl,” he said. “In fact, you’re so good, I’ll have a bit of mercy on you.”

Without another word, he returned to your breast, kissing your nipple, then down your ribcage, hands following him along your sides as he made his way to your navel, your belly, to the mound of your cunt, stopping there. He looked at you--his irises smoldering with amber flecks of hunger, ready to devour you at any second. That on its own made you clench, let alone when he peeled apart your legs, situating himself between them, gloved thumbs opening your folds to his glittering gaze.

It was at this point you most hated the restraints on your wrists--your face was aflame with shame and desire, and you were clamoring for control. But Kylo had no sympathy for you.

“You know the rules,” he said. “Eyes open. Stay still.”

You sighed, meeting his stare. “Yes, sir.”

Kylo wet his lips--but said nothing else, instead choosing to lick small bands up and down the inside of your folds, leading his tongue into the crevices of your cunt, always missing your clit. His mouth left small, chaste kisses on your outer lips, circling up to the top of your slit and down again. One finger was at your entrance--not going in, just there, teasing you, making you hyper-aware of every pre-climax clench.

Every inch of your skin was quivering in anticipation, clit so swollen and stiff it was almost painful. You needed him. You needed him to make you cum.

As if he heard you--he probably had--his gaze flickered up to meet yours, and then back to your pussy, where he sealed his lips around your aching bud and sucked, hard and fast, tongue laving at you in rhythm. Pleasure was injected into your bloodstream, blurring your vision, fogging your brain, making you moan and gasp and thrash. He slipped that single digit inside, curling it inside of you, and you coiled your legs around him, gyrating your hips into his mouth--so close, already so close--

Grunting, he pulled away, clawing at your thighs and pinning your legs onto the bed, embers of lust burning in his eyes. You cried out, hanging at the cliff of your climax, desperate for release, but Kylo only smirked.

“You don’t think I’d let you cum before I’ve had my fun, do you?”

You glared at him, blowing furious air through your nose. “Fuck you.”

He clucked his tongue once more. “Another word like that and you won’t cum at all.” Kylo shuffled forward onto the bed, and you saw his cock, fully erect again, a bead of pre-cum at the tip, the shaft still slick with your saliva. He hummed, stroking himself while his eyes consumed you. “If only I could keep you here. Just like this. You’re gorgeous…”

A rush of heat swept your flesh, and then Kylo was looming over you, hips spreading your thighs, the head of his dick prodding at your wet, pulsing core. He braced himself and sunk in with a sting, sucking in a breath through his teeth as he was enveloped by your tight cunt. When he had pushed into to the hilt, he paused, catching your gaze before he began pounding into you. Squealing, you threw your head back, and when you did, a warm glove encircled your neck, thumb pressing on your pulse.

You gasped, your walls squeezing him, the pressure of his hand evoking a long, ecstatic moan. Kylo grunted, fucking you harder--his thrusts were brutal, animalistic, his breath hitching and teeth gritting with exertion.

“Nasty slut,” he growled. “You think you can just ride my cock? Use me however you want?” He squeezed harder--you felt the prickle of blood loss at your lips, and he leaned to your ear. “You’re mine.”

Darkness was creeping into the corners of your vision, and you swallowed against his hand, whimpering. Kylo loosened his grip, pulling back to watch the wash of red return to your body. His cock was ramming deep into your pussy, hips hitting yours hard enough to bruise, his eyes black, possessed with primal hunger.

“You’ve missed this, haven’t you.” The words were forced between his teeth. “You need this. You need to be impaled by my cock, to scream my name--don’t you?”

Desperate to please him, to earn your orgasm, you nodded, croaking under him. “Y-yes, Commander... I need you--”

“Scream my name, then, slut.” He moved his hand from your neck to clutch his headboard, gaining enough leverage to slam your cervix. “Let me hear who you belong to.”

You wailed, first, a ragged noise that crackled in your throat--but with every stroke of his hips, you grew more intelligible, until you were howling and screaming his name, all too overjoyed to let it echo through the privacy of his quarters.

“Kylo, fuck--Kylo, Kylo!”

He shuddered, hips stuttering. “Yes--yes… fuck!”

Kylo’s teeth dug at your neck as he snarled against your skin, pumping into your cunt, spilling his seed while he fucked you into the end of his second orgasm. When his hips stilled, he released your throat, nuzzling you before pulling away. His forehead was dotted with sweat, and he ruffled his hair, chest falling with exhausted breath. A painful ache throbbed at your clit--an ache that demanded release, an ache that only had only grown louder after Kylo’s growling climax.

“So good,” he murmured, tracing the dried cum on your face. “But I don’t want you dripping just yet.”

He reached to the side of his belt, unlatching his lightsaber, and in one quick movement, pulled his cock from you, shifting down to press the cold pommel of his weapon against your core. You were so wet with cum, so stretched from his dick, that it only took a sharp twist and push until it was tearing into you, ridges cutting into your soft walls. You gasped, whimpering, wincing as he pushed it further, splitting you open, filling you with icy, unyielding metal.

In a natural response, your cunt clamped around the saber, sending shocks of pain rippling over you--but the further Kylo rocked it into you, the more relaxed you became, until he’d seated it deep enough for it to hit your cervix. Tremors shivered through you, and you looked at him, lip wibbling. His eyes were pits of flame.

“Much better.” He moved forward again, straddling your waist while he freed the other side of your binding from the headboard. “Turn around.”

You raised a brow, laughing. With your arms tied above your head and the saber lodged inside of you? “Easier said than done.”

“Was my request unclear?” There was no humor in his gaze. “Turn. Around.”

Jaw firm, you took a breath of preparation, easing yourself onto your side, flinching as the ridges of the lightsaber dug into you. Realizing he was observing the entire pathetic display, your cheeks went pink, and you pushed off of your thigh, using your shoulder as leverage to turn yourself onto your knees, ass in the air, back sloping down to the bed. The weapon was still shifting painfully inside of you, each twinge making you clench around its unforgiving hilt.

“Not so hard, was it?” Kylo grabbed the loose leg of your pants, tying it back onto the headboard, stretching and straining your arms. There was silence, and you grimaced, wiggling your hips in an attempt to find any comfort in your current position. He snickered, grazing the rim of your ass with now-nude digits. “Hm. We’ll need to open you up, first.”

“What?” was all you could get out before a slickened finger was pushing into your ass, making you yelp. “Dammit! Kylo, you--”

“Shh.” His digit curled inside of you, pressing up against your inner-walls--and you could feel the saber inside of your cunt, stretching you out as he worked open your ass. When a second finger poked at your entrance, you tensed. “Relax.”

You rolled your eyes. “Okay, I’ll try and put two fingers in your ass and see how relaxed you are--” He spanked you. “Ow!”

“Quiet.”

The second digit wormed in next to the first, and he continued to twist and scissor you open. It was a strange sensation--if you’d felt full with just his thumb, now you were stuffed. You focused on your breath--in, and out--willing your body to his ministrations, sighing as even the pain in your neck and shoulders evaporated with each breath. Kylo hummed in appreciation, and worked in a third digit, rocking your hips, stretching you even wider. You were moaning, now, face alight with crimson, feeling disgustingly defenseless and bare.

“You’re insatiable,” he said. “Look at you, moaning like a wanton slut.” A chuckle. “You’re practically begging me to fuck this tight little ass.” He smacked your thigh. “Is that want you want? You want me to fill every hole with my cum?”

If three fingers felt this thick, you didn’t even want to imagine what his dick would feel like. Yet you found yourself nodding, whimpering, clenching around him and his weapon.

“Good girl.” You felt the sticky head of his cock--hard again--waiting at your entrance, and as he withdrew his digits, he worked in the head, growling in pleasure when you squeezed him, pulling him deeper inside of you. “Fuck… you’re so fucking tight.”

He clung to your hips, stroking into you by centimeters, relishing every ridge and muscle of your body, so gradual his enjoyment could have been mistaken for tenderness. When he’d fully sheathed himself in your ass, he held himself there, grip rough enough to bruise, drawing in a hissing breath through his teeth. He was massive, reaching places in your body you didn’t know were possible--and between his saber and his dick, you felt overwhelmed, overtaken, your head dizzy with pleasure.

“So good, pet…” Kylo gave another long, leisurely thrust. “You feel so good…”

For a moment, you’d almost believed he’d take his time, be gentle--every thrust of his was slow, savoring your body and how you felt around him. Even without friction on your clit, you found yourself groaning, rocking with him, contracting with every full thrust of his cock--so at first, you didn’t notice when he increased his pace, believing it was a natural result of your combined efforts.

But soon, he was fucking into you at a rhythm you couldn’t match--faster, harder, his breath coming in deep, growling pants, your moans turning to quailing howls, your flesh quaking from his efforts. Still held by the restraints, your arms and torso dangled and swung from his spent energy, and your lids shut to block out your building pain.

“You like that?” he grunted. “You like being destroyed by a murderer? Filthy--fuck--filthy whore--”

That made your eyes open. “By a--Kylo--what the--”

“You’re disgusting,” he snarled. “Crying out for someone like me--I own you, slut--shit! I fucking own you!”

“Kylo--what are you--oh, fuck...”

The Force was at your clit, shutting down any brain power dedicated to speech. Instead, your body was vibrating with pleasure, liquid diamond coursing through your vessels, making you moan and drool and babble his name. Having spent nearly the entire night on edge, you were at the brink, ready to pour out, bones ready to break from your skin as he drove deep into your ass.

“Cum for me, bitch.” He was barely intelligible. “Cum for your Commander.”

He tipped you into euphoria, pleasure overriding your self-control as you shook and convulsed on his saber and cock, every muscle between your legs pulsing and clamping down while your vision turned to a black sea of stars. Your shredded shrieks drowned out the roaring behind you as Kylo was ripped into his third and final climax, filling you with his cum, his hips striking yours into the air while he fought to steady himself.

When your orgasm faded into your flesh, you were left gasping, sweating, searching for something tangible. As Kylo pulled out, he took his saber with him, rubbing and pulling at your backside. You felt hot, sticky streams of cum slip down your pussy and thighs, and you winced, blushing. He was staring. You knew he was.

“Perfect...” he cooed, and you only blushed harder. “Perfect.”

Kylo reached over you, freeing you from your restraints, and you plopped onto the bed like a wet sack. You were mobile, now--but it didn’t feel that way. No, you felt hollow. Drained. Wasted.

Destroyed.

The mattress shifted, and you registered that Kylo had moved off of the bed. But you weren’t expecting for him to grab you and scoop you into his arms, to cradle you to his chest as he walked to the refresher. Your heart stalled like a broken engine, face tingling with shock as you peered at him through your lashes. He was looking straight ahead, free of emotion. His scar was still bumpy and raised. You still wanted to touch it.

You hadn’t realized he’d turned on the shower until you felt the heat of steam at your skin. Kylo lowered you to the ground, keeping his hands tight on your hips when you stumbled on the tile; the position making you all too aware of how sore you were and would be. He trailed the tips of his fingers up your spine while he led you into the shower, letting you soak in the hot jets of water as he stripped down himself.

Blank--your brain was blank, every coherent thought or idea vaporized after your climax. You felt the water stinging your skin, lingering on your lashes, felt its raw burn at your body--but all you could find strength to do was stand, stare into the wall, and breathe.

Kylo slipped in behind you, still silent, tracing lines up your arms and across your shoulders, following the little creeks forming on your curves. Even in the thick air of the shower, his touch drew bumps on your flesh, flooding your heart with warmth you didn’t want to feel.

“We can’t keep doing this.” Your voice was dying under the rush of water.

He frowned. “You’re afraid of getting caught.” A pause--of course you were afraid. “You will be safe.”

“Why do you guarantee that?” You held the wall, turning to face him, pausing as you were hit with the reality of his swollen, red scars--and then took a breath, steeling yourself. “Like. What do you want from me? Love? Sex? A cum deposit? What?”

When you met his gaze, there it was. That distant something, a shadow over the confusion in his eyes. He couldn’t hold your stare, instead glancing at the shower glass, then the floor. Your heart was stammering. Your digits were trembling.

“I... ” His brow furrowed. “I don’t… I don’t know.”

Your teeth were chattering. “You--you still don’t know?”

He didn’t respond, instead gathering a lather of soap in his hands and, after washing those, wet and lathered a rag, circling it over the skin of your shoulders and neck. You were paralyzed in the wake of his affection, and a hand at the small of your back urged you closer, until you were against his warm, broad chest.

The shaking of your body was getting worse--you found yourself unable to meet his eyes, even when he tilted up your chin to clean away the remnants of his seed. He rubbed the suds down, making soft, soapy circles along your side, stopping when he met your hips, where he reached in between your legs with no motivation other than to wipe the semen sticking to your thighs. You whimpered, trying to step away, but he held you there until he was satisfied with his work.

Having finished that, he then took care of himself, and tossed the rag to the side. You let go of a breath you hadn’t known you’d been holding, and finally found his stare in the mist of humid air. Kylo’s eyes were molten, golden irises smelted in the fire of his gaze. He caught your chin in his hand, thumbing at your lower lip before mapping the line of your jaw with his fingertips and pushing strands of wet hair from your face.

You couldn’t tear yourself away. “I don’t understand you.”

Only a twitch of a brow indicated that he’d heard you. The water stopped, and he stepped out, leaving you alone for seconds before he returned. It was just as he’d done before--wrapping you in a large, soft towel and slinging you up to his chest. His body was a barrier to the outside world. You hated that. You hated how in his arms, you felt invincible. You felt whole.

Kylo carried you to the bed, this time keeping you against him when he sat, muscles tensing as he stretched out on the mattress and rolled you to his side. The lights dimmed. You felt even warmer than you had in the shower--but you still hadn’t stopped shaking, even as you nestled your head on his chest, even as you shimmied yourself flush with his strong body.

“And I don’t understand you,” came his voice, deep and quiet.

You almost laughed--in your eyes, you were pretty damn transparent. “What do you mean?” you asked, looking up at him. “What’s not to understand?”

He swallowed. “I hear them. Feel them. Your thoughts.” His lip twitched. “You feel warm. When you think about me.”

Ice coated your stomach. “Um. Yeah.” For some reason, you were embarrassed--it should have been obvious that he knew how you felt. “I, uh, do care about you. For some reason.”

“Why?”

You blinked. “What?”

His eye twitched, now, and he looked to the wall. “Why? How can you?”

This line of questioning seemed absurd. What the hell was he even talking about? Then you remembered what he’d said. A murderer. Someone like me. And you remembered the silent plea when you’d hit his wound two weeks ago in the medbay. And you remembered how he’d looked when he’d been laid out in the Command Shuttle, covered and soaked in his own blood. Fury. Hatred. Sorrow.

“Kylo,” you said. “What happened on Starkiller?”

At the question, his muscles hardened--like you’d stuck him with a sword. There was no answer, either--just the dark emptiness of his room, the soft swell of his chest, the quickened thump of his heart inside of his ribcage.

“Kylo--”

“Enough,” he snapped. He must have sounded harsher than he intended, because he foraged a hand through your hair, scritching your scalp. “Go to sleep.”

You sighed. That was the end of that conversation. But the soothing scratch of his nails was enough to convince you to close your eyes--your body so exhausted, so sore, that it wasn’t long until you drifted off in his arms.

Chapter Text

By the time you arrived at your assignment, Dash was already skulking around the shuttle, conducting what you could only define as his own sloppy, unofficial inspection. You watched him, arms crossed, while he slunk from the ramp to the landing gear, running his fingers over the durasteel--as if he’d gather evidence of neglect or incompetence just by examining a veil of space dirt. You cleared your throat, and he flinched, spinning to face you.

“Oh, uh!” He straightened his back and dusted his hands like there wasn’t a flustered flush creeping onto his cheeks. “Just, uh, you know. Normal pre-inspection inspection.”

“Pre-inspection inspection?” you said, moving toward him. Every step was slow and painful--but you couldn’t start limping right now. “New procedure to me, sir.”

Dash glanced at the floor, audibly cursing himself before throwing his hands up. “Well, I was just, you know. Just trying to make sure that everything was looking good.”

Frustrated heat prickled your neck. “You really don’t believe that I know what I’m doing, do you?”

“Uh, no, no, of course I--”

“Is it because I’m young?”

“No--”

“Because I’m a woman?”

“No! I just...” Groaning, he shook his head, making his way back to the ramp. “Do you wanna get started on this pre-flight inspection, or what?”

You blinked. “Pre-flight inspection? I literally just placed the work order for the engine yesterday.”

He raised an eyebrow. “Yeah, and a team came through a few hours after the end of your shift and completed the order. Apparently the shuttle’s got somewhere to go today.”

“Oh.” You ignored the needles in your heart. “Didn’t know.” Sighing, you waved him on. “Well, let’s get started, then.”

You waited for Dash to ascend the ramp before taking steps of your own. The amount of pain emanating from below your waist was hobbling, to the say the least. To say the most: it felt like you’d been fucked in the ass while getting a lightsaber stuffed in your cunt. There wasn’t anything else you could think to compare it to.

Trudging up the ramp, you strangled the irritating nag in your chest. You hadn’t expected Kylo to be there when you woke up (and he hadn’t been), nor did you expect him to keep you abreast of his obligations. Yet there was still something that bugged you about the fact that you’d been nestled in his arms only hours ago--but were the last to find out he was leaving. What was reasonable to expect, at this point? Hey, honey, I’m heading out on the shuttle for a few weeks. Be a good little slut while I’m gone?

No, that was wrong. He’d ask you to be a good girl, not a good slut.

You shook your head. There was work to do.

On the shuttle, Dash was fumbling with one of the consoles in the cockpit, turning to you when you crossed the threshold. He looked like he’d just been caught with his hand in the sweets dispenser, and threw his hands behind his back in a bizarre attempt to appear innocent. You sighed.

“Are we going to spend this entire training period with you checking for errors under my nose?”

He held up his palms, sitting in one of the pilot chairs. “Go ahead, please.”

Rolling your eyes, you took a step into the cockpit, pointing to the panel in front of him. “Okay, so, for a pre-flight inspection--”

“You don’t need to sit down for this?”

The blood in your veins was beginning to bubble with irritation. “No,” you replied. “I don’t need to sit down.” You left out that sitting was near-impossible for you at the moment. “Anyway. A pre-flight inspection--”

“Do you have a boyfriend?”

You nearly convulsed with confusion, arm dropping to your side while your mouth hung open. “I’m--excuse me?”

Dash shrugged. “A boyfriend. You know. Do you have one? Like, are you dating anyone or--”

“I know what a fucking boyfriend is, Damarcus,” you spat. “What I don’t know is why you, my boss, are asking me that question.”

“Oh.” He frowned. “Why? Is that not cool? Like, is that not a thing that you can do?”

You gazed at him, blinking in disbelief, deciding between whether to call him a fucking idiot or a fucking moron--but resolved to eschew both in hopes he was just pathetically ignorant. “Um. No. It’s not a thing you can do.”

“Huh.” He looked to the floor, then back at you, studying you for a moment as you stood, frozen. “So, that’s a no, then? No boyfriend?”

“None of your business, dude.” More importantly, you weren’t even sure if you knew the answer to that question. You took careful steps to the dashboard and pointed again to the panel. “Pre-flight inspection. First step. Run the on-board diagnostics.” When he didn’t move, you urged him on with a wave of your hand. “I’m not just telling you for fun.”

Dash sighed, accessing the user interface with little difficulty--which surprised you. The Command Shuttle’s interface was unique--a bit counter-intuitive, perhaps, to anyone who’d spent their career working on TIE fighters. Once he’d finished, he turned to you, and you imagined he couldn’t look more bored if he tried.

“That was… fast,” you said, tempering any hint of praise in your voice.

Shrugging, he leaned back in his chair. “That’s why they call me Master Dash. Ha-haaa.” He shot you a broad smile and a wink.

You cocked a brow. “I thought they called you Double-Dee.”

“Oh, uh, well--” He folded his arms over his chest. “Like I said, no one really calls me anything yet, I’m just trying to, y’know, get something started.”

The panel blinked, signaling the completion of the diagnostics, and you were thankful for the excuse to ignore his comment while you watched him scroll through the report. “I guess Sam and Minks were right when they said you knew your stuff.”

His eyes widened, and he looked at you. “Sam and Minks?”

Was he forgetful, or just oblivious? “Uh, Samuel Foster and Minks Loren? The other two people under your charge in this area?”

“Oh,” he said, brow furrowing in thought. “Yeah, I remember them. Well, I remember that girl, mostly. Minks? She’s real cute.”

Bile burbled in your esophagus, and you stared, hoping the shock that had registered on your face would be enough to shut him up. But, no, of course it wasn’t.

“What about her? Does she have a boyfriend? Is it that guy? They seemed to be pretty close--”

“Maybe! Don’t know! None of your business!”

You were certain if you had to hear one more thing about great Sam and Minks got along you’d end up punching them both in the face for their irritatingly obvious chemistry. Oh, yeah, sure, fine--you could be happy for your friends, but it was far easier to be bitter about the fact that they were able to flirt all over everything all the time--meanwhile, you’d just asked yourself if it was appropriate for you to expect Kylo Ren to talk to you.

“Anyway,” you said, “what do the diagnostics say?”

Dash sucked his teeth. “Nothing. Everything’s good. Normal.”

“Okay, good,” you said. “So then what we do next is we’ll head back to the engines to double-check them before doing a test-start of all of the systems.” Not wanting to move first, you nodded toward the rear of the ship. “Come on.”

He stood, shaking his head. “No, no, ladies first.”

You rolled your eyes. “No, really. You first.”

“Aren’t you supposed to be showing me?” he said. Dark impatience edged his voice. “Seriously. You first.”

Against all of your bravest inclinations, your heart sunk into your stomach, and you nodded. “Okay, then.”

Drawing in a long breath through your nose, you took one step--then another--then another, recognizing that your current attempt to hide your limp was far more conspicuous than the limp itself. And yet, though you were moving at a Hutt’s pace, Dash remained behind, his gaze sticking to you like slime. You could feel it oozing over your body, slower than sludge, and your pulse shot into space.

“What’s with your legs?” came the inevitable question, ringing out in the stark silence of the ship.

You shrugged, as if you hadn’t made sure you weren’t still dripping with the Commander’s cum before leaving his quarters this morning. “Cramps. You know how it is.”

“Not really.” Footsteps behind you--slow, methodical. He was still examining you. “You sure it’s just cramps?”

The acid in your stomach churned up to the back of your throat. “Yup.” You’d made it to the access panel--you leaned against it, staring at him. “Just cramps. For sure.”

“Oh,” he said. You hadn’t realized how tall he really was until he was towering over you in the enclosed corner of the engine access. “‘Cause it kind of looks like something else.”

Heat flushed your neck and chest, raising the hair on your arms. You decided the best course of action was to ignore that he’d even said that, in hopes he’d take the hint, and instead move onto the next steps of the inspection. “So now that we’re here--”

“You sure you don’t have a boyfriend?” His eyes roamed your figure again, and his proximity set off panic alarms in your skull.

“Uh...”

Fear was a thick knot lodged in your throat. It was taking all of your control to focus on the panel, to ignore the dizzy anxiety spinning inside of your head. Maybe you should tell him you did have a boyfriend so he’d back off. But then, maybe if you told him that, he’d wind up reporting it to Hux, somehow. And Hux might assume it was Kylo Ren. Even though Kylo Ren wasn’t your boyfriend, anyway. You didn’t even know what he was, really, like, was he your lover, was he your fuckbuddy, was he--wait, what were you thinking about?

“No,” you said, “I don’t. I don’t have a boyfriend, okay.” You took another breath to steady your trembling fingers, wondering how much trouble you’d get in if you just… decided to leave for the rest of the day. As you opened the panel, you continued. “Anyway, what you’ll do--”

“You still wouldn’t go out with me, though, right?”

“Will you stop interrupting me, man!” you growled, leering at him. “No, I still wouldn’t go out with you. Can we just finish this inspection?”

“Because I’m your boss--right? That’s what you said?” Dash’s face was stone-serious, and it chilled you to the marrow. He wasn’t going to let this go.

You frowned. “Why does it even matter? No means no, dude.”

His shoulders fell, and he chewed his cheek as he averted his gaze. There was something racing through his mind, behind his eyes--but whatever it was, he wasn’t saying it. You seemed to have shut him down, finally, but it did nothing to assuage the creep of black dread over your intestines. Having yet another superior officer showing sexual interest in you was not a coveted theme for your life.

You wanted to ask him how much he knew about you--but you didn't want to give him reason to investigate, either. Your instinct was to tell Sam or Minks--but the mere thought brought a wash of shame over you, especially considering Minks’ comment the previous day. And telling any other higher-up was out of the question. This was far too frequent of an occurrence, for you, and you worried stirring up trouble would bring more questions your way. Were you doing something to ask for this, to encourage this treatment? You didn’t think you were, but doubt had already burrowed into the center of your brain. You just needed to handle this on your own.

“All you need to do is come back here and make sure the ion generators are clean,” you said. “Then we head back up front and manually ensure all systems are operational.” Another steadying breath, and you started to waddle toward the cockpit.

To your relief, Dash spent the rest of the training period in silence, only nodding and following your instructions. You were thankful that he was a quick learner and needed little guidance--even still, teaching him delayed the inspection’s completion by about an hour. When you’d finished, you were searching for some excuse to leave. You’d grown tired of standing--but couldn’t bring yourself to sit, either. Even less appealing was the thought of lying in your cot.

But since Kylo was apparently leaving, you supposed you had no choice.

As if he’d read your mind, Dash said, “Wonder where Commander Ren is.” He looked at the chronometer on the center console. “Departure’s scheduled to be in thirty minutes.”

He’d practically handed you that excuse you’d been looking for. “Really?” you asked. “Well, then, I better get going.” You’d already started stumbling toward the ramp. “Maybe I’ll run into Commander Ren on the way, or something.” You’re not supposed to be around him at all. “But probably not. I mean. I never see him.” You cleared your throat. “See you, uh, whenever. Bye.”

The speed with which you staggered down the ramp made you feel optimistic about any future involving arthritis. You hoped that when you’d reached a 50-foot radius from the shuttle, the weight of your anxiety would have evaporated--but instead, it was replaced with a hovering apprehension regarding your return. The thought of working with Dash again tied your intestines into knots. He seemed harmless enough, but you worried that if he did find out your history, he’d make a natural assumption.

As you made your way out of the bay, you mind flipped through its options, finding itself trapped. Any way you split it, reporting the issue to someone would end with the target on you--a target you didn’t need, considering you’d already piled on about 500 targets to your back as it was. If Hux were to even catch a whiff of it, he’d probably use it as an excuse to boot you out of an airlock, just to pluck you from his side. Your stomach gurgled in resignation--you’d dug yourself a hole so deep, you were convinced that no one would believe you.

But there was one person who had no choice but to believe you. Hearing your thoughts made it impossible to feel otherwise. You just hoped he hadn’t already left for the shuttle--maybe if he knew what Dash was saying, he could find some inconspicuous way to fix it. Or he’d kill him. You know. Whatever.

The pressure of your finger on the pad to Kylo Ren’s quarters was enough to open the hatch--either he was still there, or he’d managed to surreptitiously change the permissions to his security systems. Not that you knew how they worked, anyway. Maybe he’d just left it unlocked.

But if he was still around, he hadn’t heard you come in. The hallway remained empty. The doors remained silent. You wobbled to his bedroom--your legs were just about ready to give out from the amount of walking--but he wasn’t there, either. Nor in the refresher. Scanning the room, you went to call out his name when you heard it. A voice, lost in the tall ceilings and durasteel walls, rumbling like a distant peal of thunder in your ears.

That was Kylo--it had to be--but you didn’t think you’d ever heard him speak so many words in succession. Not around you, anyways. The nag in your chest was back--here was your chance to know him, to start a path of intimacy, to maybe--you didn’t know--define whatever bizarre relationship you had with him. A little bit of eavesdropping was worth that, surely.

Inching closer, the source of his voice appeared to be behind the door--the door that led to that helmet. That helmet for which you still held no answers. Your curiosity grew claws, but you kept your mind blank, choosing instead to sidle up to the door and lean your ear toward it. Sound still muffled, but intelligible, now, even more coherent when you held your breath.

“I don’t understand. It should be easier, now. Clearer. I shouldn’t… I shouldn’t feel this way anymore.” His frustration was radiating like flames through the hatch. “Stronger. Why can’t I be stronger!” The word was punctuated by a heavy, metallic smash. “And now this girl…”

Your heart flipped. Girl? You were a girl. Was he talking about you?

“How did you do it, grandfather?”

Wait. Grandfather?

“Where did you find your power? How did you keep it?” A pause. Your sternum was getting slammed out of your chest. “She is getting stronger. I can sense it. Her power…” Another pause. “She’s only a scavenger!” Another smash, then something crashing onto the floor, tremors echoing to your toes.

The hope inside of you wilted. He was talking about that girl you’d seen on Starkiller. He could sense her? What did that--you stopped yourself. There were too many thoughts running through your mind and if you didn’t wipe them, you were sure he’d hear you. But you were thinking you needed to leave, anyway--the dark fog settling in the pit of your stomach was telling you that you’d made a mistake.

“Guide me, grandfather,” said Kylo. His voice hung feathersoft in the air. “I cannot falter when I face her again.”

Again? Yes, you were definite, now--you’d made a mistake. The ache of agitation had grown far too loud. Instead of getting answers, you’d only found more questions--unsettling ones. Ones you feared the answers to.

You scrambled out of his bedroom and into the hall, your whirling mind cutting a track toward the safety of your quarters. You were thankful you’d have time to rest with the shuttle gone--but even the pain between your legs was becoming secondary to the fluttering bewilderment in your chest.

Chapter Text

The time was 06:24. The Command Shuttle was over an hour late.

You were already cranky. You hadn’t wanted to wake up as early as you did, and you especially hadn’t wanted to do it just to train Dash “Double-Douche” Damarcus on post-flight procedures. Why it was even necessary for you to review such basic protocol was beyond you--but you supposed that they wanted to be thorough, considering you’d essentially be discharged following the completion of his training. And maybe it was a good thing that you didn’t see an end date to your assignment on the Finalizer just yet.

“Is it always this late?” Dash asked, leaning against the diagnostic terminal. “I really want to go back to sleep.”

You shrugged. “I don’t know.” Dash had been looking for any excuse to start a conversation with you since you’d arrived. You wanted to stare at the terminal screen.

“Are you always this mean?”

“Yes,” you replied. “Always.”

He sighed. “You definitely won’t get a boyfriend that way.”

A vein pulsed in your temple. “Wow,” you said, “and here I was hoping you’d forgotten about all of that in the two weeks I’ve been off-duty.”

“What do you do when you’re off-duty, anyway?” He shifted, trying to catch your gaze.

Masturbate to Kylo Ren. “Nothing.” You hoped your deliberate avoidance of him wasn’t too obvious--but then again, maybe you wanted it to be obvious. “Read a lot. Nap a lot. That’s it.”

“Nothing else?” he asked. “You don’t go hooking up with anybody?”

You rolled your eyes. “Gods, you’re persistent.”

He shrugged. “I’ve been asking about you, you know.”

Your brain slammed the brakes--when you went to swallow, you found yourself struggling to stuff down the massive stone that had formed in your throat. “Asking about me, huh?” Better to sound curious, rather than alarmed. “What do you mean?”

“Well--”

The blast door to the docking bay slid open in a long, jarring screech, and your heart leapt in a blend of relief and panic when that silenced him. Did you need to be worried? What had he found out? Who had he been talking to? Questions you had to consider--and questions you immediately forgot about when you saw the black, knife-sharp silhouette of the Command Shuttle float through the opening hatch. A fluttering wave of joy and hope and fear crashed over you. Dash was inconsequential now--a dust particle in the wind of your desire. Whatever he found out about you could wait.

When the shuttle landed, your heartbeat was throbbing in your face--a throbbing that resonated over the rest of your body as the ramp hit the ground with a rush of steam. Your lungs were frozen, ears straining for the stomping of boots as you waited for someone--anyone--to exit the ship. Though you would have preferred Kylo Ren.

The ramp had been on the ground for only seconds when the Stormtroopers came charging down like frightened cattle, a desperation present in their race to distance themselves from the shuttle. Dread dripped into your ribcage, thick with apprehension. You glanced at Dash, whose eyes followed the Stormtroopers out of the docking bay before he turned to you.

“What’s that about?” he asked.

You sighed. “Nothing good.”

He hesitated, eyes darting between you and the ground. “Should--should I…”

“No.” You straightened, rolling your shoulders. “Let me handle this.”

“But what if he--y’know--he seems kind of…” There was genuine concern in Dash’s voice. Maybe he didn’t know everything, then.

“At this point, Commander Ren doesn’t scare me,” you said. “I’ve seen enough of him to last a lifetime.” Okay, that was too cheeky.

Letting out another sigh, you made your way over to the shuttle and stared up the ramp. Inside of the ship, you saw the dying crimson glow of melted metal, tiny snaps of light still sparking out of the walls. The smell of plasma was absent from the air--this wasn’t a recent incident. But the fact that it had occurred at all started a fire in the pits of your veins.

Was he seriously going to deface the shuttle now, knowing you had to work on it? Did he actually have that little respect for you or your job--still? You stormed up the ramp, the thoughts coming faster than you could filter them. Maybe it was because he didn’t really give a shit about you anymore. Because he was too busy worrying about that other girl, the scavenger, whoever that girl was.

You’d spent two entire weeks wringing your hands over that mess--at this point, you’d over-analyzed the few sentences you’d heard him speak down to the pauses for breath. Those pauses had to have some meaning, dammit, you were sure of it…

Kylo Ren was in the pilot’s chair when you entered the ship, unfettered fury already tightening your fists and festering in your chest. You were halfway to him when you started speaking.

“Are you fucking serious, dude?” You stopped at the threshold to the cockpit--not that brave just yet. “You know who has to go through this, right?”

He refused to face you, not even uttering a word as he finished reviewing the flight data on the screen. But your impatience was bubbling.

“I’m just wondering, do you ever take time to think--” You paused. You were not in his quarters. This was the Command Shuttle, and the ramp was down. When you next spoke, your voice was a whisper. “Do you ever take time to think about how things you do might affect me? You know--the woman you’ve been fucking for almost half a year?”

More silence. It was as if you were a ghost. Where was his tender concern now? Probably used all of it on that girl.

“How can you seriously go from--”

His gaze met yours through the mask. “What were you doing in my quarters?”

The question arrested you, cooling the boil of anger inside your stomach, and your jaw hung open without an answer. Kylo stood, a black flourish springing from his chair--towering over you--and you spat out your response.

“You knew?”

“Yes,” he replied, stepping toward you. “You’re very loud.” You held your ground, letting his enormous chest bump yours. The heat of his body was suffocating. “Now tell me--why were you there?”

His modulated voice still had the power to send tremors of arousal rumbling through you--which you hated, because all you wanted to do was get answers. Answers about his behavior. About who that girl was--that girl who, based off of about three sentences, you’d determined he was fucking. And though you and Kylo hadn’t ever agreed on anything specifically monogamous--or anything at all, really, apart from, sure, I’ll be yours, there were some practical concerns. Like, diseases, and such. And if he was cuddling her at night. And kissing her forehead. And telling her all the things he never, ever told you.

Practical.

Choosing to ignore the trembling brought on by your confrontation, you shrugged. “I had my reasons.”

He was motionless, but you could feel his eyes wandering over your body, assessing you. “You’re afraid.”

You weren’t about to let him intimidate you into submission--if he could sense that, he already knew what your problem was, too. “Who is she?”

He tensed, if only for a second, deciding to shoulder you aside and push past you. But you weren’t done yet. Growling, you snatched his cowl, ripping it toward you--and though he barely registered the attempt, it was enough to make him spin, hunched in annoyance, like a predator ready to pounce.

“Who is she?” you asked again, fingers curling into the fabric.

Kylo was still, shoulders bunching with his breath, but after a moment, he loosened, and you dropped the cloak. “She’s none of your concern.”

You blinked, stifling a laugh. There was no way he could say that to you. Not after you’d spent the past two weeks obsessing about their relationship. “Pretty sure she is.”

“No.” His arms flexed with his restraint. “She is not. Enough.” He turned, starting toward the ramp.

“You know what,” you said, crossing your arms--and he stopped. “Between you disrespecting my work, avoiding any actual conversation with me, and now your inability to tell me about this other girl, I’m really starting to think that you don’t actually give a single shit about me.”

He didn’t move--didn’t even face you.

“Maybe all of that sweet stuff you do is just to keep me on the hook. Because, actually, I’m pretty sure you’re still a complete asshole.”

At that, he whirled--he was a black storm, his gaze ripping through you like lightening. “Your insistence that I must entertain every fleeting worry that ails you is, at best, naive. At worst, juvenile. You understand so little. I say this not as a request, but as an order: do not enquire into my personal affairs again.”

You frowned. “Oh, so she’s personal?”

He made to move toward you, stopping at the sound of feet on the ramp.

“Hey, it’s me,” came the voice below the shuttle. Dash. You didn’t know if you felt relieved or disappointed. “Just coming to make sure everything’s going okay…”

Before Dash could finish his sentence, Kylo Ren was gone, marching down the ramp in half a breath Your mind was spinning--but any questions you had were silenced when Dash poked his way into the ship.

“He seemed mad,” he said, lopsided mouth twisted in a grin.

“Oh. That’s how he always is. It’s normal.”

Dash nodded while he examined the damage slashed into the walls. “Oh,” he said. “Oh, wow.” He looked to you, pointing at the welting metal. “Is this--is this normal?”

You wanted to move, but found you were unable--as if Kylo had paralyzed you with the Force. “No,” you replied. “Not really. Something probably pissed him off on the way back from his mission.” You couldn’t stop wondering if it had been that girl. Maybe he’d gotten mad he had to leave her.

“Gotcha.” Dash dragged a finger down a crevice left by the lightsaber. “So, are we gonna get to work repairing this, or not?”

“Uh…”

“We don’t have to,” he said. “We can… do other stuff, instead.”

Bile burbled in your stomach. This was not a conversation you wanted to have. In fact, it was the last conversation you wanted to have. You wondered if you could use the Force--but after concentrating hard on the idea of throwing Dash into the wall with no success, you admitted defeat. His anticipation of your response still hung heavy in the air.

“Not much else to do.” You turned to the cockpit, hoping to end it there.

“I can think of some things.” His voice was darker than you remembered, and it sent a cold chill to your toes. “Like I said--I’ve been asking about you.”

The icy hands of fear gripped your bones, and the urge to bolt down the ramp rocketed into the nearest star. Acknowledging his statement would be an invitation for him to say even more, but the tone in his voice told you that he’d try to escalate, even if you chose to remain silent. The floor vibrated with his footsteps--louder as he grew closer--and you screamed at your legs to move, to take you anywhere but inside of the shuttle.

“Actually.” You faced him, the quick pivot halting him in his tracks. “I think we should work on this tomorrow.”

His eyes widened, brow furrowed. “What?”

“Yeah.” You held your palm to your stomach. “I’m really not feeling well, actually.” Not a complete lie.

“Oh.” He blinked, looking between you and the wall. “Well. Okay… I gue--”

You nodded. “Welp, uh, see you tomorrow. I’m going to get some more rest!” By the time you’d finished talking, you’d scurried around him and down the ramp, wiping away the perspiration that had gathered on your forehead.

The distress signal Dash was setting off in your brain was only growing more urgent. You needed to tell someone--but the only person you’d wanted to tell had basically just told you to fuck off. Was this a juvenile, fleeting worry? Or was it something more serious? Between your own self-doubt and your possible denial that he wouldn’t dare, you couldn’t tell. All you knew was the vibe he gave you--the uneasy, vomit-inducing panic--and your need to avoid it.

A feeling flooded you, one you had difficulty identifying at first. But that was mainly because that despite filling you, you’d never felt more empty, or more barren. Kylo didn’t have time for your feelings, Dash’s interests were purely physical, and you’d long fucked up with Sam--he’d be getting with Minks any day, now. So there it was--you’d managed to ruin the only relationship where you had value, and now you were surrounded by men who couldn’t give less of a fuck about you, or what you needed or wanted. Was there something wrong with you? Looking at everything you’d managed to mess up, maybe it was because in reality, you didn’t actually possess any value.

Maybe you were just worthless.

You bit your lip, blinking away the tears welling in your eyes. Your embarrassment only doubled when, through your bleary gaze, you spotted Minks at the end of the hall, headed in your direction. She must have been on her way to work--even if it was still early.

“Hey!” she called, jogging toward you. “Long time no see!” It was true. It’d been at least a week since you’d met her and Sam for a meal.

Sniffing up any snot that wanted to leak from your nose, you nodded, hoping you looked as casual as possible. “I know.”

“Where are you headed?” She must have seen through your facade. “You okay?”

You shook your head. “Yeah, just a little sick,” you replied. “But, uh, enough about me. How are you?”

Her face exploded with light, and she squeezed your hand, happiness bursting at her seams. “I’m great!” she cried, and came closer, lowering her voice. “Guess what.”

The bile from earlier was crawling up your throat--but you put on your most enthusiastic face. “Um, what?”

She squealed. “Last night, Sam and I kissed!”

Well. That was it. “Cool,” you managed to say, right before heaving a stomach’s load of vomit right onto her shoes.

The next moments were fuzzy in your head--a mish-mosh of muddled memories. You knew she hadn’t necessarily liked being thrown-up on, but you also knew that her sympathy for you outweighed her disgust, and she went from horrified to concerned in an amount of time that belonged in the record books.

You remembered an argument about going to the medbay before she finally settled on walking with you to your quarters, and you remembered her hand on your back, comforting and kind. You remembered, also, trying to tell her about what had happened with Dash, but perhaps in her bewilderment--and her desire to change clothes--she had dismissed you.

“Don’t worry about him,” she had told you. “He’s just awkward. But he’s harmless, really. You can even ask Sam.”

You remembered when she dropped you off at your room, and you remembered thinking, but what if it’s because of Sam that he’s so harmless around you. You remembered staring into the mirror, wanting to shatter what you saw. You remembered the loneliness, white and hollow and so, so raw. You remembered the hatred--a black anger that bit into your skin and bled red blood down your palms.

You remembered when you thought of Kylo’s face, beautiful and scarred and cold--and you remembered when you threw yourself into the shower, the heat of the water hiding the hot tears streaking tracks down your cheeks.

Chapter Text

One unfortunate repercussion of a hours-long sob-fest was a pounding headache. Another was puffy, painful eyes. Yet another was shallow shuddering in your chest--like your breath was still ready to hiccup away.

How lucky for you that you managed to get all three of them.

Your indulgent pity-party had left you with one more parting gift--the dull ache in your body that you knew only as surrender. It was useless, you’d determined. Kylo Ren would never, could never feel for you the way you felt for him. He was a fortress, and you were skipping in futile circles around him.

Arriving at the Command Shuttle, peeking into its decimated interior, made you feel even smaller. How had things really changed since you’d first met Kylo Ren? His obstinance and dismissal were as sharp as ever. Perhaps there was some truth to his words: Juvenile. Naive. That was the only explanation you could conjure that dared to apply some logic as to why you’d let yourself be strung along by his dick.

You dragged yourself up the ramp and plopped into the pilot’s chair. Dash would arrive at any moment. In the meantime, you stared out the window of the shuttle, brain failing to register anything your eyes focused on. Your body was heavy, limbs like lead in your seat, head rolling like it was filled with water. Half of you had a mind to tell Dash to fuck off in hopes you’d just be moved onto your new assignment, so you’d stop having excuses to be in the presence of Kylo Ren. But that was a bet on your life you weren’t willing to make.

As you’d predicted, Dash wasn’t far behind you. He entered the shuttle, and you craned your head over your shoulder to greet him. But his back was to you as he spent what seemed like endless minutes surveying the interior of the ship--and when he turned to face you, he flinched, hiding a gasp. Like you’d caught him.

“Oh,” he said. “I, uh, I didn’t know you were here.”

Shrugging you turned back to the dashboard. “Welp. I am.”

“Cool.” He crossed the ship in a few quick strides, standing in the threshold of the cockpit. “You wanna get started on this repair?”

“Sure.” You peeled yourself off of the chair, moving to exit the cockpit--but no matter which way you stepped, he seemed to ignore the silent request to pass, not budging an inch. “Um. I need to, uh…”

Dash’s eyes widened, like he hadn’t known what he’d been doing, and he stepped aside. “Oh, yeah.”

You moved to the body of the shuttle, a shiver running up your spine as you felt his stare follow you. All you needed to do was to run him through the repair. Then post-flight procedures. Then you could leave. Shrugging it off, you pointed to the walls and faced him again.

“So, the first thing we want to do is check and see if any of the internal wiring was damaged.” You stepped back, ushering him to have a look. “Go on.”

He nodded, joining you near the wall and bending to scrutinize the shredded durasteel. “How am I supposed to tell through all of this mess?”

“Ah,” you said, grinning. “Good thing you asked. The electrical panels are distributed throughout the--”

“Hey, what happened?” He rose to his full height. “Your voice sounds kind of weird.”

Frowning, you cleared your throat. You’d hoped the stress from your weep session had been camouflaged. “Nothing happened,” you said. “I’m fine. Everything’s fine.” Gesturing to the walls again, you continued. “The electrical panels are--”

“You don’t sound fine.”

“Are we going to play this game again?” you asked. “Because I really don’t feel like it. At all.”

He stepped toward you, raising a brow. “So, something is wrong.”

Swallowing, you took a step back. “Come on, dude,” you said. “Let’s just focus on these repairs.”

“Is it a guy? Girls are always upset over guys.”

You groaned. “Why are you so insistent that I’m banging some guy, or something? You bring it up like, every five fucking seconds.”

“Oh, come on!” he laughed. “You’re really good at playing hard to get, I’ll tell you that much.”

“Hard to get?” You threw your hands into the air, baffled. “There’s nothing to be gotten!”

He eyed you with a smirk, like you’d just told a joke. “You remember that I’d been asking about you, right?”

All at once, your heart stammered, your stomach flipped, and every tiny hair on your body went stiff. Why had you been so sure he’d given that up? Your brain was already scrambling to locate every avenue of escape--but it stalled at the ramp. The ramp that Dash was standing in front of, arms crossed. Maybe you could just kick him in the balls and run out. Or like, punch him. And bite him. But how would it look for you to have physically assaulted your boss? Maybe you could just talk your way out of this.

“Ha-ha.” You hated the tremble in your voice. “Did they tell you about how I blew up that TIE fighter a few months ago?” Another forced laugh. “Good times, man. Good times…”

Dash grinned, shook his head. “You can stop playing dumb with me, you know.”

“Dumb? Who’s playing dumb?”

Sighing, he took another step toward you, and you retreated again, blood flooding your face. He smiled, dropping his arms to his sides, palms open and facing you--an attempt to placate you, it seemed. But it wasn’t working. The sirens in your brain were still shrieking at full volume.

“I wondered how someone so skilled ended up in your position,” he said. Your brow furrowed. “So I started asking around.” He came closer still, anxiety stealing the air from your lungs. “I get it, okay? I know how girls like you operate.”

You went to take another step--but your back connected with the durasteel. You remembered the last time a man had you pinned to the wall in the Command Shuttle. At least then, you’d wanted it. Now, your fight or flight center was fuming, melting any bit of fear you had into liquid rage.

“I don’t know what the fuck you’re talking about,” you said. “Back the fuck off.”

Dash frowned. “Look,” he said. “I know you’re in trouble for sleeping with superior officers. I get it.” He sighed. “But maybe we can make a little deal.” You shook your head, but he continued anyway. “It’s been, probably, I don’t know. Years? Since I’ve slept with someone. And you--” He moved forward once more. “You need to be reinstated. Right?”

Sand was pouring down your throat, and your jaw had hardened to stone. “Fuck off.”

“I was thinking…” His body was a barricade between you and the ramp. Any way out now would require physical force. “You help me with my problem…” A hand reached toward you, and you winced, pressing yourself flat to the wall. “... and I help you with yours.”

Your lip curled in a snarl. “Why don’t you fuck off, and I won’t knee your balls into your fucking throat.”

He laughed. “You really think you can do that, huh?”

“You have one more chance to get away from me before I start screaming.”

Hard steel clanged your skull as his hand clamped over your mouth, palm sweaty and hot on your skin. It was crude, but effective--when you yelped into his grip, it was smothered into a dull whine. So you writhed like a worm underneath him, flailing for any point of weakness--but he was strong, too strong, his long, lanky body pinning you like a boulder. His other hand grasped at your hip, fingers balling around the fabric of your top, and you scratched at him, slapped his arms, used all of your panicked strength to try and wrench him off. But he clung to you like vines, fingers digging into the tender flesh of your cheek.

You weren’t sure how long the struggle went on--just that by the end of it, you were panting into his hand, wild heart pounding out of your chest, sweat staining your back and forehead.

“Just hear me out.” Feral excitement sparked in his eyes. “I can help you, okay?”

Glaring, you spit into his palm. He wasn’t fazed.

“I won’t say a word about what we did, and I’ll make sure that you get your position back. See how we could help each other?” You were silent, still trying to squirm, still stuck underneath the stifling heat of his body. He observed you for a moment, gaze drifting over your figure, and he frowned. “I don’t get it.”

His admission was enough to make you pause--a pause long enough for his knee to break your legs apart, enough for his other hand to snatch one of your wrists. Grinning, he smashed it into the wall, sending bolts of pain echoing to your shoulder, and you wailed, a noise that died in his flesh.

“I was so sure that would get you to see reason.” He stared into the ceiling, lost in thought. “I feel kind of owed it, honestly. You had sex with other men to get your position.”

Well, now he was just insulting. For once, you were glad that Kylo had never initiated a single move forward in your career. If anything, fucking him had only been detrimental to your success.

“Now,” he said. “I’m going to remove my hand. And you can’t make a sound, okay?”

You rolled your eyes. Sure.

“Really,” he insisted. “Do you want to get caught? Because, fine, we can do that. But I know how Hux is. I’ll just tell him that you came onto me first--I was only trying to stop you. Because, my stars were you aggressive.” He chuckled. “Who do you think they’ll believe?”

Frosty fear froze the blood in your veins, turning every red channel into a cold, blue block of ice. Your heartbeat was suspended in time--not a single pulse passed through your body. The chance of him being right was far too great for you to risk your life on--after all, you knew how Hux was, too, and imagined that any other complaint about you would be reason enough to fling you out of the Finalizer. You could hope against hope that you’d be taken seriously, but apart from Sam and Minks--and maybe even Kylo Ren, who you knew wouldn’t dare stick his neck out for you anyway--you couldn’t picture a single person who wouldn’t consider your credibility in league with space-garbage.

Your anger crumbled to dust. You’d already determined the extent of your value the day before. Perhaps this was just an extension--evidence--of how truly worthless you were. Dash’s hand was slipping under your top, skimming over the twitching, tense flesh of your stomach, and with reluctance--hot tears stinging your eyes--you admitted it. Maybe you just deserved it.

“Hey,” he cooed. “Don’t cry. It’s okay. I know you’re scared…” His hand was on your breast, now--palm damp with anxious perspiration--squeezing it, testing the soft, supple flesh with his fingers. Wet desperation spilled over your scalding cheeks. “But just think how great it’ll feel to get your assignment back.” He pinched your nipple through your bra, and you squealed, trying to bite at his hand. It was useless. “Oh come on, it can’t be that bad.”

Fiery wrath flashed in your eyes when you met his gaze, and you spit into his hand again--not that he cared. He leaned closer, his breath warm and foul, tweaking your nipple with his thumb and forefinger. Acid eroded your esophagus while you fought the urge to vomit, concerned you’d choke on it.

“If it’s so bad,” he said, “why is this getting hard?”

He meant the bud between his digits, stiffening only out of physical instinct. You hated that. You hated that your body was sending out signals of betrayal, even if every single cell in you was threatening to barf the longer he lingered.

“Why do you guys do that?” he asked. “Always act like you don’t want it. It is out of modesty, or something?” His hand returned to kneading your breast. “You can be honest with me, okay?” A pause, and he pulled back, grinning. “I mean, I bet if I put my hand down your pants right now, you’d be soaking wet. Am I right?”

For some reason, you shook your head, like he’d believe or listen to you, and instantly regretted it.

He shrugged. “We can test it out, then.”

Dash’s hand released your breast and crawled down your stomach, tips of his fingers teasing the seam of your trousers. You thrashed with renewed purpose, prepared to expend every bit of energy you had if it meant throwing him off of you. He was just so strong, despite his sinewy build--even your adrenaline-induced vigor wasn’t able to shake him. But when his fingers breached the hem of your bottoms, you screamed, bucking him off for only a moment--a moment that was long enough for your free hand to ram a fist straight into his crotch.

“Fuck!” he hissed, fighting the urge to buckle at his waist and seethe with pain. “Fucking bitch!”

The surge of joy you felt at your victory was short-lived. Both of Dash’s hands flew to your neck, crushing your windpipe, cutting off any hope of breath or protest. His eyes were savage and wide, face spasming with boiling fury. You gasped, grasping and prying at his trembling wrists, fighting to suck in air--but nothing came.

“Why am I any different?” he growled. “You fucked those other guys. Is there something wrong with me?”

Your face was purple from the red blood swelling in your blue cheeks, darkness fogging the perimeter of your sight--you couldn’t stop fighting. You wouldn’t. But your brain was buzzing with oxygen deprivation, the tingles of unconsciousness pricking your skin. And you could feel your pulse fluttering, struggling to beat against his grip. You hadn’t imagined you’d die like this. Not at the hands of some awkward prick. Not surrounded by the debris of the Command Shuttle. Not isolated, terrified, and alone.

Dash’s face faded into obscurity, and a wash of peace flooded you. Your body’s way of comforting you, you figured--not that you were a doctor, and not that it mattered. You’d never get to ask.

Everything was black and empty, your lips numb, pressure pushing your eyes. The void started swallowing sound, now--even Dash’s throttled grunts were drowned by a painful, piercing ring, reverberating through your skull. It was loud--louder than anything you could remember hearing--consuming every fizzing feeling inside of you, until you were filled only with white, clear noise, no pain, no worry, no fear, no--

Air rushed your lungs in massive gulps, and you were lucid, your neck was free, your body collapsing to the floor in a heaving, bewildered heap. As you sucked down oxygen, your eyes wandered over the shuttle, body hardening in preparation to confront Dash when he grabbed you again. And then you saw him--flat along the destroyed durasteel, feet dangling from the floor, body straining to break its invisible chains.

It was only seconds later that Kylo, an enormous black tempest, charged into the shuttle, gloved hand extended, squeezing the air around Dash’s neck. He didn’t turn to look at you, didn’t even acknowledge you were there. His focus was centered on the man pinned to the wall, looming like a predator--even though his visor was leveled inches from Dash’s face.

“C-commander Ren,” Dash sputtered. “You don’t understand, sir--I was--”

“Quiet.” He snatched Dash’s throat, veins bulging out from under his leather hands. “I understand perfectly well.”

Dash tried to shake his head. “No, sir.” His voice cracked, woven with desperate breath. “This girl came onto me, she wouldn’t stop--”

“You’re lying.”

“I’m not!” he gasped. “That’s what she does, sir, she’s been inappropriate with superiors--”

Kylo snickered, tightening his grip. “I know,” he said. “She’s mine.”

The plea in Dash’s eyes disintegrated into abject horror. He met your gaze from across the shuttle, then flicked back to Kylo, whose body was a massive ball of trembling muscle, seconds from snapping his neck. You knew Dash was realizing that whoever had told him about you had failed to include one important detail. Regret was a thick plaster over his face.

“Sir,” he said, “please, I didn’t meant to hurt her, it was an accident--”

You heard it before you saw it--a ragged scream that sliced through your ears--and then the red, serrated edge of Kylo Ren’s lightsaber, filling the shuttle with a crimson glow. It was so sudden, so bright, that it took you a moment to place where the light was emanating from--and when you realized it, breath vanished from your lungs.

While one of Kylo’s hands was flattening Dash’s neck, the other had jammed the hilt of his saber between Dash’s legs. The cross-guards had blown through the flesh of his thighs, and the blade had ripped through his body, poking straight out of his chest like a rod of fire. Tiny wisps of plasma crackled in the air, illuminating the contortion of pain and shock and terror that twisted his face. His mouth was popped in a silent howl--his lungs had probably been punctured--and his eyes, emptied of anything but the reluctant acceptance of death, studied the hole in his sternum, then drifted to meet the black slot of Kylo’s mask. Blood dripped out of his nose.

Kylo tilted his head. “An accident,” he sneered.

The blade died with a wail, and Kylo’s back fell in a sigh before he stepped back, letting Dash’s body crumple to the floor while he replaced his lightsaber on his hip. The stench of singed flesh was raw in the air, and you were petrified, a statue in Kylo’s presence.

Dash was dead. Dash Damarcus was dead. Though your heart couldn’t find any sympathy, it constricted with disgust at the sight of his blank, lifeless face. Blinking, you looked to Kylo, then back to Dash, reality slapping you hard across the cheek. You’d known Kylo Ren to be a killer--and in your head, it was always justified--this was war.

But seeing Dash’s mouth lolled open, a black hole burned into his chest--that was a different situation, entirely. He hadn’t needed to do that. Dash was no threat to him. But now he was dead, in front of you. Dead.

Kylo Ren wasn’t just a killer. He was a monster.

“Get out,” came the mechanical mumble of Kylo’s voice, his shoulders crowding at his neck.

He didn’t need to tell you twice.

Chapter Text

The trembling of your fingers continued even after the hatch to your quarters slammed shut behind you. It continued as you stood, paralyzed, in the center of the room, lost. Though it had been Kylo Ren’s saber that had burst through Dash’s sternum, you couldn’t help but feel it was you who’d activated the blade. That it was your hand twisting the plasma inside of his body--you who’d decided to extinguish the life in his eyes.

You inhaled as if your lungs were starved--and in some way, they were. The tightness in your chest was preventing any bit of oxygen from entering you. No matter how deeply you sucked in air, you remained chasing your relief. It was always another breath out of reach--and then another. And then another.

Sighing, you crawled onto your cot, twisting on top of the taut tarp of fabric to find a comfortable position. Of course, you didn’t. You never did.

The wretched odor of burnt organs was still stuck to your palate, and every time you closed your lids you saw Dash’s face, cemented in horrific pain, the shock of death still pulling at his brow, still wrinkling his nose. With concerted effort, you choked down the acid in your stomach.

News of a body turning up in the Command Shuttle with a fatal lightsaber wound wouldn’t look good for you, either. What would have motivated Kylo Ren to kill your new boss, after all? The fear of being the source of a problem--a source that needed to be neutralized--hung like a corpse in the back of your mind.

A rush of noise--the hatch to your quarters opening--and your head snapped to the side, heart flying into your throat. They’d come for you already. They were going to take you to the docking bay and push you out of the--

Black. Nothing but black. Black boots, black robes, black gloves, black mask. It was Kylo Ren. In your quarters. Unannounced. The door shut behind him, and he stepped forward, air growing thicker in his presence.

You sat up, frowning. The red crackle of his saber glinting off of his mask was branded into your mind. “What do you want?”

“Do you care about him?” His tone was almost accusatory.

“What?” you replied. “No. What are you talking about?”

His fists flexed. “I can hear your thoughts.”

Had his feelings been hurt? You glanced at the floor, then shifted, hanging your legs off of the edge of your cot. “You killed him, Kylo.”

“He had his hands on your throat.”

“He was no threat to you!” you said. “You didn’t have to kill him.” You crossed your arms, shuddering. “You didn’t have to do any of it.”

A pause. Kylo’s hands went to his helmet, pulling it off and dropping it like a lead brick. His eyes were blazing, brow furrowed--he stepped toward you. “You would have preferred to die?”

Groaning, you dropped your chin to your chest. “No,” you said. “I just wish you hadn’t done that.”

He scoffed. “Your concern for this creature is senseless.”

Shooting to your feet, you aimed a glare into the bridge of his nose. “You know what’s senseless? He was basically an unarmed noodle, compared to you. But you just--you just killed him.” Your chin quivered. Bile burned your throat. “It’s disgusting.”

“Disgusting.” His jaw was firm, mouth a thinning line. “He violates you. Hurts you.” He tilted his head. “But you think I am the monster.”

“You killed a man for no rea--”

“I saved you,” he spat through clenched teeth.

You rolled your eyes. “What do you not understand about this, dude? It wasn’t necessary!”

Kylo growled, stealing another step. “How do you know it wasn’t necessary?” He was staring you down--but you weren’t giving an inch.

“You’re acting like the only options were to kill him or let it go!”

His gaze narrowed, fury roaring inside of it. “You don’t understand,” he snarled. “There were no other options.”

You sneered, hands moving to your hips. “You know what--why do you care, anyway? You’ve made it clear how little you think of me. How little you think of my life or what happens to it.”

He stared at you, silent, eye twitching.

“And, actually, I’m thinking, yeah, maybe I would have preferred to die. Maybe then I wouldn’t have to deal with you constantly endangering my life to begin with!” When he didn’t respond, you rolled your eyes again. “What’s going to happen when they find out you killed my boss, Kylo? Did you think about that? Do you think about any-fucking-thing at all before you decide to make some mess that I have to clean up?”

Kylo’s stare fell to the floor, limbs going rigid with rage. Not that it bothered you--you were advancing on him, your indignation an inferno, its flames feeding off of your fear, your rejection, your insecurity.

“You’re a fucking selfish prick--and you always fucking have been. I don’t know why I constantly delude myself into thinking that you’ll actually show me you care, one day.” You shook your head. “No. If what you want is a fucktoy, you’ll have to find another one. Maybe that scavenger.”

Brown eyes, filled with black ire, met your gaze. “Ignorant girl.”

You laughed--a short, bitter thing. “Man, you know what would change that? If you bothered to ever fucking talk to me!” You were inches from him now, breathing fire breath in his face. “You’ve done nothing but destroy my life since you’ve met me. And never a single apology.” Your voice fell, dark and quiet. “I thought you were a monster because I meant it.”

Kylo snapped, his fist slamming the wall behind him in a sharp smack--another dent you’d have to fix, somehow. He spoke, eyes drilling through you. “I’ll let the next man finish the job, then.” Before you could respond, he snatched his helmet, shoved it on his head and stormed into the hall, hatch closing behind him.

Heat exploded in your veins, and you whirled around, kicking your cot before hoisting it and launching it into the wall. It slammed the durasteel, collapsing flat onto the ground, and you screeched, seizing it and hurling it across the room, jaw tight as it smashed the wall. When it settled onto the floor with a stutter, you sighed, releasing the breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding.

That fucking asshole. Of course you weren’t upset that Dash had died. It was that Kylo had determined it was appropriate to kill him at all. And he seemed to think you needed to be grateful for it.

Grateful for what? For the deliberate distance he kept between you? For every emotional impasse where he’d left you stranded? For every dodged question, every time he’d made you feel lesser than dirt on his heels? No. He owed you more than a fucking body. Murder was no substitute for intimacy.

The irritation followed you past lights-out, past the hour when you should have been asleep (not that it mattered--you hadn’t been planning on going to work the next day, anyway). And the longer you fought it off, the deeper it festered, until, despite yourself, you were pulling on clothes and plotting your route to Kylo Ren’s quarters.

You hated that part of you, really--the part that shielded a flame of hope from every gust of his dismissal.

Anxiety flared in your belly when you tip-toed out past the threshold, your head spinning on a wheel. If you were stopped, you weren’t sure what you’d say. What? My boss was killed? Weird. Nope, I had no idea. Oh, where am I going? Oh, y’know, off to speak with the guy who killed him. Uh, I mean…

But your paranoia had no basis in reality. Not a single stare lingered as you shuffled through the halls of the Finalizer, arms crossed, eyes glued to your feet. In your off-duty dress, you looked like another refugee--no one worth remembering, or even acknowledging. And you were just fine with that.

You weren’t sure what you’d been expecting when you arrived at his quarters. Some resistance, maybe--but no. The door opened as if you’d commanded it, revealing once more the long, blue darkness of his hallway. You remembered the first time you’d visited him, and blushed as you recalled his shuffling stiffness, directing you to the guest room--so awkward. But thoughtful. And sincere.

An ache gripped your heart. The source of the flame.

Holding a steely breath, you crossed through the hatch, meandering through the hall. You’d been in his quarters for less than fifteen seconds and your palms were already clammy, your throat already caked with dread. But your determination was stronger. At least, you hoped it was.

You’d reached the end of the hall when he called your name, loud and demanding, making your nerves fly through your skin. Shuddering, you paused, but swallowed your hesitation, striding into his bedroom with your shoulders pinned back.

Kylo Ren was hunched over the edge of his bed, dressed only in his underclothes, elbows resting on his knees, the dying coals of his eyes trained straight on yours. The intensity of his stare halted you cold, and his gaze drifted to his feet, then back to you.

“What do you want?”

You bristled. “I could ask the same thing of you.”

He paused, scanning your figure. “You’re still angry with me.”

“Well,” you said, “unless you’re ready to apologize, it’ll stay that way.”

“Apologize,” he drawled, frowning. “Apologize for your own negligence?”

You reigned in your anger, folding your arms over your chest. “My own negligence?” you asked. “You, uh, wanna clarify that at all?”

Kylo’s forehead was drawn tight, fingers furling. “The responsibility to inform a superior officer of your supervisor’s actions lies with you alone.”

“Oh, wow,” you said. “First of all, not telling anyone doesn’t make this my fucking fault, okay? Second of all, there wasn’t anyone who would believe me after what happened with you, anyway! Hux would have pushed me into space!”

His jaw clenched. “You should have told me.”

The peal of laughter you caught in your throat was nearly obscene. “Are you serious?”

Without a hint of sarcasm: “Yes.”

“Kylo.” You stepped toward him. “You told me that coming to you with my issues was juvenile and naive. Why the fuck would I want to tell you anything, after that?”

Your words were heavier than air, hanging over Kylo like a reluctant realization. But even with the weight of reality on his back, he was still wordless, inspecting his feet in thought. All of your fear left you in a long, steady exhale, and you dropped your hands to your sides.

“You said that I didn’t understand.” Pent-up emotion was still trembling your fingers. “But… I think that you’re the one who doesn’t understand.”

He raised an eyebrow.

“I don’t--” You sighed, wringing out your wrists before shaking your head and lowering your brow. “I’m tired, dude. I’m tired of being treated like this.”

Kylo shifted, shoulders tensing. “You still should have told me.”

“That’s not my point--”

“You almost died,” he mumbled, gaze flicking back to yours.

An exasperated breath escaped you. “That doesn’t--”

"You almost died!” He sprung from the bed, chest heaving, eyes wide with half-hidden fear. “You--” He was scrambling to find the words, grimacing in frustration. “He almost killed you. You were screaming in my head.” His knuckles were pale. “Screaming.”

You swallowed, spit thicker than cotton. “Kylo--”

“I would kill him again.” His voice was cold, freezing the breath in your lungs. “I would kill him one thousand times over.”

“But I don’t need a body from you,” you replied. “I need… I need answers.” The unconscious face of the scavenger flashed in your mind--and water welled in your eyes against your will. You dragged the words out through your chattering teeth. “I need you--I need you to show you care.”

He blinked. “You’re worried about her.”

“Yes!” You threw your hands in the air, ignoring the trickle of tears down your face. “Of course! Of course I am!” You sniffled. “Ever since I heard you talk about her--but, but it’s not just her, Kylo. It’s everything. Everything.” Crossing your arms, you turned away from him. “I can’t play this game anymore.”

A long pause--the only sound you could hear was the river of blood inside of your ears, the quiet thumping of your heartbeat in your temple. Your entire being quaked with vulnerability, fingers finding stability in your own flesh. Half of you anticipated him to just leave--the other half waiting for him to kick you out. Waiting for it to be over.

Instead, he spoke--your name a feather on his lips. “The scavenger is…” A pause. “She is responsible for what happened on Starkiller.” Ice chilled your blood--she caused his scar. “She is a problem I need to remedy. Nothing more.” You heard his soft steps behind you, his voice growing closer. “But you…”

Before you could think of anything to say, before you could even think to turn around, his hand, large and strong, gripped yours, spinning you to face him, pulling you against his broad chest. Your heart was beating out of your flesh, face flush with heat, brain emptied of anything but anxious static. His eyes, dark and deep and clear, chained you to the ground, holding you tighter than his hand ever could.

“You,” he said again, “you are…”

Another palm cupped your cheek, holding you there, searching your face for what seemed like hours. A thumb brushed the wetness from under your lids, and then he drew you close, his lips grazing yours in a tentative, nervous kiss. Every function in your body stopped--and he kissed you again, bolder this time, pressing the soft fullness of his mouth against you. He pulled away, then, meeting your eyes, and the tenderness glowing in his gaze had you melting in his hand.

“Kylo…”

Before you could continue, his lips crushed yours, and you shut your lids, both of you sucking in breath through your noses as each of his hands wove through your hair. Your mouth parted in a soft groan, and his tongue slid between your teeth, lips working over yours like he needed to devour you. Your heart was flying, rocketed somewhere into another galaxy--and you grabbed his hair, coiling your fingers around the dark waves, returning his affection with equal fervor. He grunted into your mouth, spinning the both of you while he kept his lips locked on yours, walking you back until the bend of your knees hit the edge of his bed. His pace shifted--mouth moving deep and slow, digits stroking through your hair as he pulled you into his body.

Kylo swirled his tongue in your mouth, and then withdrew, a lone string of spittle linking your lips. Both of you speechless, near-motionless, lost for what to say or think or do. You felt his erection poking into your belly, and you clenched, reaching for the hem of your dress--but he stopped you, face solid as stone.

“No,” he said. “Let me.”

Scarlet sketched your cheeks, but you nodded, swallowing when he bunched the fabric in his fingers, lifting it up and off of you. You raised your arms, letting him complete his task, and he tossed it to the side, eyes consuming every new expanse of flesh exposed to him. You’d never tire of that--never tire of how he stared at your body, as if it was new every time, as if it was a gift he hadn’t been prepared to receive. And under his stare, a waterfall of heat flooded you, only growing hotter as he reached behind you to release your bra.

Focused, he pushed it from your shoulders and shucked it down your arms, hands skimming over fresh gooseflesh before making it to your underwear. He stopped, glancing at you for a moment, before he kneeled in front of you, breath warm on your belly. Kylo hooked his thumbs under the rim of your panties, peeling them down your thighs, revealing your sensitive sex to him--inch by torturous inch.

A shiver scattered through your nerves, and he met your gaze again, his irises molten gold with hunger, not wavering a single second, even when he pulled off your shoes and flung your panties behind him. He rose, palms mapping the profile of every curve, until he was towering over you, and one hand cupped your face again, thumb tracing your lower lip.

“Lie back,” he murmured.

His words had your fingers quivering, but you nodded, falling back onto the mattress, easing yourself toward the headboard so you could lie flat. Kylo paced around the perimeter of the bed, stare so scorching you were afraid your skin would catch flame. After a moment, he paused, pulling off his undershirt, his pants following suit, until he was just as naked as you were--and from this angle, the view made your cheeks water.

He loomed over the bed, his cock already thick and red and long. The sight of it against the background of hard, tense muscle made you clench, and you bit your lip to hide a moan that was sneaking its way out of your mouth.

But he said nothing, even as he moved toward the bed, even as his knee dropped into the mattress, even as he shifted, crawling over you, until he hovered above you, looking for once like just a man, a man filled with devotion, passion and need.

“Kylo…” Fear was mixing with the pull of lust. You’d never seen him like this. “Kylo, I--”

“Shh,” he said, pushing a strand of hair away from your temple. “Relax for me, little girl.”

You drew in a shaky breath, and nodded--and his lips pressed into yours, plush and wet, before he moved, leading a tingling line of kisses down your cheek, to your jawline, to your neck, where he stopped, pulling back, forehead wrinkling in dismay.

“What?” you asked, heart hammering. “What is it?”

His fingertips floated over the darkening outline of Dash’s hand, his jaw hardening. “Your neck.”

“Oh,” you replied. You had no clue what to say to that. “I--I’m sorry?”

Kylo’s eye twitched. “No.” He passed his thumb over your jaw. “I… No. No.”

Without another word, he leaned in, caressing your throat with his warm mouth. You gasped, back arcing into him, and he purred, laying layer after layer of soft, wet marks on the forming bruise. He continued down, kissing your clavicle, sucking the skin into his mouth--not hard enough to break the vessels. One large hand slid down your arm while he kissed his way to your breast, nuzzling his cheek into the valley of your chest before drawing a nipple between his lips.

A cry escaped you, your hips bucking into his abdomen. “Oh, gods…”

“Shh,” he said again. “Relax, sweet thing.”

This only made you want to writhe more. What did he just call you? Taking a deep breath, you nodded anyway.

“Sweet thing,” he repeated, planting slow, soft kisses on your stiffening bud. “So, so sweet…”

He took your nipple into his mouth again, moaning while he suckled it swollen, his hands painting pleasure on your swathes of naked, aching skin. You whimpered, nibbling on your lip to silence any sound, fingers itching to run through his hair, skate over his scalp--but you didn’t want to touch him. Not if he didn’t want you to.

One of his hands circled your wrist and lead it to his head before returning to your hip, and your heart flipped, neck craning back while you buried your digits deep into his tresses. This evoked a groan into your breast, and he flicked the tip of your peak with his tongue before releasing it, mouth making a hot trail along your navel, his hands massaging up and down the breadth of your thighs.

“You’re doing so well,” he whispered into your stomach. “You look so beautiful…”

“Kylo,” you whined, his words setting off a flurry of bliss in your chest. You didn’t know what else to say.

“Keep being good for me...” He kissed his way to the mound of your pussy, holding a rumble in his chest as his lips grazed the top of your slit. “Are you ready?”

Were you ready? You’d never had to consider it. But as you gazed at him, pink lips wet with saliva, rings of desire around his eyes, your answer was clear.

“Yes,” you said. “Yes, I’m ready.”

Kylo licked a broad, flat band up your sex, and you mewled, twitching for more, fingers twirling in the curls of his hair. His mouth was hot and eager, showering your folds with deep, heavy kisses, hands holding your thighs in place as he slicked his strong tongue in between your slit. Another whimper, another clench of your core--and though he hadn’t ordered you to, you couldn’t keep your eyes off of him, couldn’t stop watching while he worshipped your cunt with his mouth.

“You taste incredible,” he cooed, leaving soft kisses along the crease of your thighs. “You know that I think about it every day, don’t you?”

Your breath hitched. “Y-you do?”

“Mmhm.”

He returned to working his tongue along your inner-folds, gathering your juices along the tip, humming while he swallowed. There were slick smacking sounds as he sought to collect every drop of your wetness in his mouth, and you whined, shifting your hips, trying to force your throbbing clit between his lips. But he was deliberate--taking his time to memorize every bit of your pussy, to draw as much cum from your core as he could.

“Kylo,” you said, “please…”

His gaze darted to yours, and he hummed again, sealing his perfect lips around your swollen nub. The pleasure was immediate, colliding into you with a wracking sob, your lids closing, your fingers drawing rough lines in the depths of his thick hair. Kylo gripped you tighter, tugging you to his face, thumbs rubbing soothing circles into the flesh of your thighs. Your hips rolled into him, desperate moans leaving your chest--but despite that, he was slow. Methodical. His tongue slurped up your slit, teased your core, pushed and mixed your juices with his spit, all while he sucked slowly on your clit, building your orgasm block by block.

“Fuck, Kylo… gods…”

But he went no faster, only drew your nub deeper into his mouth, adding pressure, moaning into your cunt. You squealed, clenching hard, rocking your pelvis into his face, feeling yourself rising closer and closer to your release. His hands left your thighs, exploring your body, gripping and kneading any inch of flesh they could find, until they finally rested on your breasts, thumbs tracing small, gentle circles on your hardened nipples.

“Oh, fuck,” you said, “fuck, fuck…”

Any words leaving your mouth deteriorated into wailing nonsense while you balanced on the edge, straining at a wall of pleasure. Then, with two hard sucks, Kylo eased you over, drawing out your climax long and slow against his mouth. Bliss numbed your skin, limbs shaking and trembling as he pulled you through wave after wave of pleasure, groaning as your juices covered his lips, your core pulsing and throbbing at his chin. It seemed an eternity of ecstasy before he finally released you, trailing his tongue up the top of your slit, panting and gasping with you.

Your head rolled along the mattress, lids fluttering open, hands petting at his hair. “Fuck, Kylo,” you said. “That was… that was--”

“Shh.” He licked his lips, gaze liquefying your center, and returned his focus to your belly, kissing a steady path to your sternum, his hands still stroking at your skin. “You’re doing such a good job, little girl.” He glanced up to catch your eyes. “I can’t wait to get inside of you…”

“Oh,” was all that left your mouth, teeth pinching your lip when it began to tremble.

“You’re gorgeous...” One hand started to palm at your breast, the other still gliding up your side as he inched forward. “Every bit of you is perfect--like it was molded for my hands alone.” He was at your neck, now, rasping into it, the heat of his body enveloping you. “It’s like you were made for me…”

If you hadn’t been composed of solid matter, you were certain you’d be a puddle underneath him by now. Every word from his lips filled you with joy--a warm glow that emanated from your heart and flowed out over the edges of your skin. You wanted him inside of you in a way you’d never felt before. You wanted to feel him--all of him--you wanted him under your skin and in your head, you wanted to exist on a plane made just for your bodies, you wanted to be a single, solitary entity, composed only of need and adoration and--and that something, that something in his eyes that you’d never named, but always, always felt.

Kylo’s arms looped under you, his face nestling into your neck--he held you tight, firm against his body, sweat already begin to bead between you. But you didn’t care--you wrapped around him, too, hands skimming the muscular range of his back as he huffed into your ear, angling the dripping head of his cock at your entrance.

He braced himself, and then pushed in, stroking into you centimeter by centimeter, letting you gasp and wince while his thick length stretched you open. Kylo was already hissing under his breath, fingers burrowing into you as he thrust deeper and deeper into you, until your wet core had swallowed every throbbing inch of his dick. With him completely seated inside of your cunt, you felt him pulsing at the hilt, felt his already urgent need to cum inside of you. But instead of pounding into you, he jerked you closer to his chest, pulling out and plunging back in, as slowly as he had the first time.

Thrusting in again, Kylo kissed your neck, finding his rhythm, keeping every stroke deep and careful and full. You mewled--between the passion in your chest and the pleasure between your legs, your head was spinning, something was close to bursting. His skin was so hot against you, and you gripped him tighter, another moan leaving your chest, chin shaking beyond your control.

One arm shifted underneath you, enough for his hand to cradle your head, and he leaned back, staring at you with gleaming eyes before he smothered your lips with a kiss, burning and short.

“Mine,” he muttered against your mouth.

His hips kept moving, cock still sinking into you with a steady, powerful pace, and he buried his face back into your neck, throttling a moan in his throat.

“Mine,” he said again, breath washing warm over your ear.

You shivered, nails biting into his back. “Yours.”

He shifted again, pushing your body so your knees bent at his sides, hips snapping harder into you. “Mine.”

“Yours,” you moaned, nuzzling against his head. “Yours.”

Another shift, and he was striking your cervix with every thrust--and the pain was enough to pop the balloon in your chest. You sobbed, overwhelmed with relief and security, tears spilling down your cheeks--and he was quick to kiss them away, breathless with his impending climax.

“No one can take you.” A grunt when he slammed into you, and almost like an afterthought, the Force rolled around your clit, yanking you toward another orgasm. “No one can hurt you.”

“No one,” you replied. You were barely able to speak through your choked sobs and moans. “No one...”

Kylo was pumping into you, now, voice shredded raw. “Mine!” he growled. “All mine…”

“All yours, Kylo…” Only a few more thrusts, and you were there, back teetering on the tip of orgasm. “Only--oh, fuck--only yours…”

You keened, dragged through your second climax, euphoria tearing through you as your walls pulsed and milked his cock. He groaned, gripping you tighter as he poured himself into you, hips bucking until the only sensation left was sweaty, heaving, post-orgasmic rapture. And despite that, you held each other, unwilling to move, unwilling to let the other person leave the safety of the embrace.

It was a long moment--long after your breathing had returned to normal, long after you’d both dripped sweat onto each other’s skin--before he moved, rolling off of you, gaze roaming your figure. You held back a smile, tear-stained cheeks becoming redder under his stare. Kylo’s hand snuck over to yours, long fingers lacing between your own--and your face grew darker.

But he did nothing but stare, did nothing but watch your chest swell with breath, did nothing but observe while you squeezed his hand tighter. You knew he could hear every baffled, hopeful thought in your head, every fearful fret that this was a trick, that it wasn’t going to last, that, worst of all, he’d be gone when you woke up. And your lids were drooping, now, too, even though you didn’t want to sleep, you didn’t want to miss a single second of this moment.

“Neither do I,” Kylo said, brushing his thumb over yours.

But you felt so safe, so happy, that you were drifting anyway, his face fading into your dreams. The last thing you heard was his voice, ringing like music in the mist of your mind.

“Neither do I.”

Chapter Text

At first, you thought it was a dream.

That was the only explanation your sleep-hazed mind could produce. After all, there was no other plausible scenario that could account for it--that, or perhaps you’d suddenly died and your soul had ascended to a higher plane, one composed entirely of your fantasies.

It became reality only after the white halo of drunken drowse receded with the slow blink of your lids, the fuzzy border around your vision finally wiped clean as your lenses focused and awakened.

Dark hair fell in messy curtains above you, hanging like thick, curly vines around pointed cheeks, pink lips set firm in thought as eyes--honeyed with curiosity--stared into you, unyielding. Two strong fingers brushed strands of hair from your face, and then every breath you tried to take stuck somewhere in the back of your nose, failing to make it to your lungs.

“Kylo--” you began to say, but found your words stolen by a hard, anxious kiss.

Your body’s response was immediate, like you’d been thrust into a cold pond--you groaned into his mouth, lids fluttering as you arched into him. Both of you were still naked, still warm, but only his arousal was obvious, poking hard into your tender thigh like a reminder. Kylo jerked his hips, smearing a line of sticky precum across your skin, and you groaned again, going to grasp his hair. But he pulled away with a wet smack, and you felt the hum of your disappointed heart in your neck as he sat back on his heels, straddling your legs.

“Kylo,” you said again. You devoured the clean, strong lines of his figure, the throbbing length of his cock, desire congealing into a fat wad in your throat--and you swallowed. “Y-you’re here.”

“Yes.” His face was blank. “I’m here.”

He’d heard you. “Oh.”

Brown eyes roamed over the hot, flushing flesh of your body, hesitating at your breasts and sex. He wet his lips, and then met your gaze. “I always hear you.”

You wanted to respond, but found your words disintegrating on your tongue while you stared. His hair was mussed, unkempt, tumbling over his head in wild waves, falling over his forehead--you’d never seen it so… so cute. The intimacy of it--Kylo Ren’s bedhead--had flames licking up the back of your neck, your chin threatening to quiver. An image passed through your mind: his lips on yours, your fingers buried in that gorgeous hair as you rolled in his bed, grinding against each other in a desperate attempt to resist fucking.

His dick twitched. He’d definitely heard that. “You want me.” A long digit trailed up your slit, and you squeaked, clenching. “But there’s no time for what I want to do to you.”

“Time?” You pouted. “I always figured time didn’t apply to you.”

“No.” He palmed lazily at his erection, as if he weren’t teasing you, making you salivate with the very sight of it. “It applies to you.”

“Huh?” You forced yourself to focus on something other than the fingers tracing the veins on his shaft. There was no way you were going back to the Command Shuttle. Not today. “What are you talking about?”

Kylo’s thumbs squeezed a drop of precum from his slit, and he collected it on the tip of his forefinger. “The body.” He slicked the clear bead onto your clit, drawing tiny, wet circles on your aching nub, and you gasped--but before you could writhe, he froze you with the Force, leaving you at his mercy. “Hux requests a meeting with you.”

The first noise out of your mouth was a whimpering moan as liquid warmth spilled through your thighs. “Mmm--meeting? With--hn--with me?”

“Yes.” His brow was drawn in boredom, like he wasn’t rubbing you off with his own cum. “You’re expected on the bridge within thirty minutes.”

“Thirty minutes?” At this, he added friction to your stiffening clit, and you whined, unstretched muscles straining at the embodiment of his will. He was stroking himself now, his pink mouth parted while he watched your cunt pulse from a single digit. “Fuck--I need to--oh--leave now!” Kylo glanced up from your pussy, tightening his circles, swirling faster--and, stupidly, you snapped. “Hurry up and make me cum!”

Glaring, he withdrew his hands from your clit and his own shaft, even as it reddened with blood, and you whinged in protest.

“What the--”

“I think I prefer having you squirm.” He swung his legs off of you and onto the floor in one fluid motion, scanning your helpless, tethered body. “I anticipate you’ll only display complete professionalism, officer.” With that, he disappeared into the refresher, and your limbs were freed.

You laid there for a moment, the embers on your skin fading to ash. Perhaps you’d thought that after what you’d done, he’d be more, you didn’t know--friendly? More playful? More… warm? A long sigh fled your ribcage, and you rolled over the edge of the bed. No, of course not. He was still Kylo Ren. All of the slow sex in the world wouldn’t change that. Pulling on your clothes, you shuddered, turning over the memories of his mouth sucking your skin, his words whispering by your ears.

For whatever reason, there were no mirrors in Kylo’s bedroom, so you left your hair’s appearance to luck, ruffling it into what you hoped was presentability. Not that it mattered much when you were showing up in your off-duty clothing, anyway. That was certain to put the General in a good mood. Why had Kylo woken you up with only thirty minutes’ notice? How would you even explain how you knew about the meeting to begin with? You were supposed to be giving the impression that you weren’t fucking him.

Even in his best moments, he somehow proved to be as thoughtless and selfish as ever. But you couldn’t be too mad.

Sweet thing.

The bridge of the Finalizer was busy--busier than the command center on Starkiller, maybe--but people still found time to register your presence, to glimpse your less-than-appropriate attire. Thankfully, you weren’t made to wait long--Hux caught your eye from across the bridge and frowned, marching through the hatch that led into his office. You supposed that was uptight-ginger-speak for “you’ve wasted enough of my time, let’s get this over with so I can eject you into space and attend to more important things.” But that was just a rough translation.

You swallowed, watching the ground as you crossed the room, shiny black gloss somehow stretching out miles before you made it through the hatch, your pulse pounding behind your eyes. Looking up, you sighed--your reflection was visible in the polished floor (not too awful), the desk at the head of the room was functional and spotless, and every machine was beeping in precise, perfect rhythm--returning to this space made the air no less stuffy.

Hux hadn’t taken a seat, yet--so neither did you, instead choosing to wiggle your toes inside of your shoes. A transporter passed by the window, twinkling into darkness, and he blinked, face in its perpetual pinched dismay.

“Is there a reason you’re standing?” he asked, crossing to the head of his desk.

A hot streak of fear lit up your spine. “Uh, no, sir.”

You took a chair, folding your hands in your lap. Part of you felt your insides should be crawling out of your butt right now, but you were still in denial. Certainly, Hux couldn’t think that Dash’s death was entirely your fault. Certainly, you weren’t really in danger of being killed. Certainly, Kylo would make sure of that.

Even though he wasn’t with you. You wished he was.

“You weren’t at your assignment at shift-change,” Hux said, sitting down, “so your knowledge of my request is more than interesting to me.”

“Message on my datapad,” you replied, perhaps a little too quickly. “Someone told me that an officer came by looking for me, wanted me here.” This was a terrible lie. An awful lie, really. Your only hope came from the fact that Hux couldn’t read your mind, either. “So, uh, I showed up.”

The look of disbelief in his eyes was almost crippling. But he couldn’t prove you were lying. Not yet. “And you decided that reporting to my office in casual attire was the most logical decision.” His gaze flicked to your hair, so fast you could have missed it in a blink. There was no way he could tell what you’d spent the last 12 hours doing--right? “Respect is not a strong suit of yours.”

You cleared your throat. “Well, sir, yesterday’s events had me a bit, uh, shaken--I’m afraid that I did oversleep. I hadn’t been thinking.”

A pause. Longer than necessary. “Clearly.” He swiped at a screen on his desk. “You know why I’ve brought you here, then.”

“Yes, sir,” you replied, nodding. You weren’t sure if you should have been denying it, instead. You weren’t sure of anything. “But, uh, surely a man of your rank can’t be bothered with the deaths of inferior officers.”

His brow tightened. “You’re right.” The slightest of smirks quirked his lips--fucking smarmy fucker. “The… untimely death of your supervisor, however, is not the problem. It’s a symptom.”

Dammit. “A, uh, symptom, sir?”

“Yes.” Another pause as he examined you, searching for some clue--any clue. “You’re fortunate that your skill was instrumental in preserving Ren’s life. Your indispensability is your only lifeline.”

You supposed that was as close as you’d get to a compliment from Hux. “Um, thank you, sir?”

“Don’t think that I care that Ren still lives,” he said. “No. The only reason I speak with you at all is because of Leader Snoke.”

More than ever, you wanted to roll your eyes. But you somehow managed to refrain, nodding instead.

“You remember that I said that any interference with Ren’s training would be grounds for your elimination.” He looked at your hair again--dammit. Your heart was at a trot. “The status of Ren’s bed is of no concern to me. But the Supreme Leader takes exception to the hindrance of his precious pupil.”

Shock. You hoped that’s what your face was registering. As if the thought of fucking Kylo Ren again was preposterous. Right. “Well, General, sir, I--”

“Your supervisor was found with fatal wounds consistent with Ren’s ridiculous weapon.” He sneered, like it disgusted him to think of it at all. “And I find myself considering his motivations.”

He was hiding his hand. Either he thought you’d been fucking Dash and Kylo, or that you’d somehow used your relationship with Kylo to motivate him into killing your supervisor. You couldn’t tell him what Dash had been doing--you knew he wouldn’t buy it, and admitting it at all would still demonstrate that your existence proved a distraction. You thought hard about your only lifeline--your skill--and how every man on the Finalizer seemed dedicated to severing it with a machete.

Pins of terror pricked your cheeks. A cage was around you, its bars forged from your own stupidity. Perhaps your usefulness had finally run out.

Hux’s door whirred open, parting for a wall of sentient black repression--and your heart sagged with relief. Meanwhile, Hux’s brow furrowed even further, if that was somehow possible.

“Ren,” he spat. “We were just talking about you.”

“Praising me again,” Kylo replied. Not even the vocoder could hide his snark. “And I’ve requested so many times to invite me before you do.”

It was near imperceptible to maybe anyone but you--but millimeters under the right lid, Hux’s eye twitched,and you restrained a smirk. “It was my understanding you’d left to meet Leader Snoke.”

“Perhaps you can explain how I’d do that with a non-functional shuttle.” He tilted his head. “You’ve occupied its engineer, after all.”

Hux bristled. “Perhaps you can attest to the cause of death of the chief engineer, Ren.” His voice was steel, and he turned his attention on you. “For some reason, I’m unable to get a clear explanation.”

“Unsurprising,” said Kylo, not bothering to look at you. “She’s hardly the most articulate the First Order has to offer.”

You frowned. Was that his plan? Okay. “Like you’re a fucking star communicator. Dickhead.”

The second the words had escaped, there was an intangible sensation between your legs--you grit your teeth, crushing your thighs together to relieve some of the pressure. Kylo’s fingers were twitching, teasing your clit with the Force--and he still hadn’t looked at you.

“I’d watch your mouth, officer.”

But two could play at that game. You hardened your jaw, flooding your mind with fantasies of Kylo’s cock sinking into you, of his hand around your neck, of his ruthless, brutal, and painful thrusting. “What, so you can just insult me?”

“Leader Snoke will want to know about your inability to prevent yourself from interfering with inferior officers,” Hux said, glaring at Kylo, having become an expert at ignoring you.

“You wish to busy the Supreme Leader with a hunch?” The Force swirled faster around your stiffening clit, and your nails cut into your thighs, cunt trying to clench away the tension. “I’m sure he’ll be pleased for you to bother him with the affairs of petty staff.”

“It’s hardly a hunch, Ren.” Hux scowled. “Is this not the same officer you were discovered with over a month ago?”

Kylo snorted--a staticky crackle through the mask--even while you were picturing yourself on your back, his arms looped around your legs, your tits bouncing while he fucked into your wet pussy. “You’re saying it’s strange I was in proximity of the engineer who works on my shuttle?” It was like it didn’t even affect him.

“I’m saying,” Hux began, “that your killing of a supervisor of a woman who has a history of inappropriate relationships with superior officers looks like a distraction.”

“It’s of no concern to me how many relationships she chooses to tarnish.”

Your lip furled. “Fuck you.”

Kylo spun on you. “Language.” His gaze was a hot beam through your chest--and as the Force flicked your clit, that wasn’t the only heat piercing you. “Unless you wish to meet a similar fate.”

Not sure what you were thinking, you stood, fists balled, knees almost buckling against the increasing onslaught of pleasure. “Go ahead.” You threw out another image--drool streaming down your chin, tears slipping over your cheeks as he defiled your throat with his dick. “Kill the only engineer who can fix your dumb shuttle as fast I can.”

The Force wasn’t just on your throbbing nub, now--no, it was pushing into your core, nothingness stretching you open, spreading your walls to the width of two of his thick digits. Growling, you bit your lip, collapsing back into your chair, silencing your body’s urge to shudder and shake in response to his will. You hoped your facial response to being fingerfucked with the Force appeared defiant, rather than euphoric.

“General,” Kylo said, turning back to Hux, “this is a waste of your time and my own. Release her so she can begin repairs--unless you want to explain to Leader Snoke why my departure was delayed.” He was so casual--as if he wasn’t using his mind to make you clench around the air.

Hux was silent--torn between his apparent duty to the Supreme Leader and his desperate desire to wash his hands of this entire mess. He seemed either convinced or annoyed by your sniping with Kylo, and you hoped between his doubt and current need for an engineer, he’d let it go.

You were still focused on getting a reaction from Kylo--you ran through a scenario where he was murmuring hot obscenities in your ear, fucking you like he cared only for his own release. This did nothing but make the Force curl inside of you and vibrate around your clit, bombarding you with bliss, bringing you dangerously close to orgasm--right in the General’s office. Stifling a whimper, you hunched over, covering your mouth with your hand, like you were bored, and not resisting the temptation to come undone in front of Hux.

“Explain why this supervisor ended up dead,” Hux said, finally--but you were barely paying attention by this point.

You could only think of words, now, hardly creative enough to conjure full images--they were all pathetic pleas, but you broadcast them anyway. Fuck, please, Commander, please fuck me. I want your cock so fucking bad. I want you inside me, Commander.

“Disrespect,” Kylo replied. No reaction yet. “Intolerable.”

Commander, please fuck my cunt. Fuck my mouth. Use me like I’m disposable, spill your cum into me--

“I see,” Hux said. He was stuck--with Kylo here, he’d lost out on his chance to trap you in your own words. And the pressure to send Ren off on time was seemingly important to him. You wondered how much shit he’d gotten for Starkiller’s explosion. “Don’t let it happen again.”

Don’t you want to use your pet, Commander? Don’t you want to ruin my pussy? Mmm, fuck… it feels so good when I cum around your cock, sir--

You saw it--the curl of his fists, the bunching of his shoulders--the resistance in the face of the mounting urge to satisfy your begging. “Oh, of course, General.” His voice betrayed nothing. Even if you knew that below his robes, he was hiding a furious erection.

Kylo spun, spearing you with a warning stare from behind his visor before striding out into the bridge. When he disappeared, so did the Force-hold between your legs. You gasped, going doll-limp, like you were exhausted--and in some way, you were. Your heartbeat thrummed in your fingertips, your skin danced with light, every inch of you whined for release. Thank the Maker you hadn’t actually cum, though. Fucking asshole.

“Well?” Hux said, one brow cocked. He’d run out of tolerance for your presence. “The least you can do is coordinate the repairs for the shuttle. Dismissed.”

Swallowing, you nodded, standing. “Yes, sir.” Before leaving through the hatch, you turned. “Um, and… my, uh, assignment--”

“Dismissed.”

“Right.”

You weren’t sure if Hux had wanted you to return to your quarters and change into proper uniform, or if he wanted the shuttle repaired as quickly as possible. On the off-chance it was the latter, you rushed to the bay, ignoring the confused sets of eyes following you onto the shuttle, focused only on setting up the orders for interior repair. You were thankful that you’d had so much experience cleaning up after Kylo--the job wasn’t difficult, even if it wasn’t fast. and you logged a complimentary pre-flight inspection, as well. Might as well cover all of your bases if you didn’t know when you were returning.

When you’d finished your tasks, you debated on where to retire. Your quarters--or Kylo’s? Logically, of course, you knew that you should go to your quarters. But the knowledge that he would be leaving soon and the persistent ache between your legs was convincing you in another direction. And it continued to convince you until you’d arrived at his door, tapping your fingers on your thighs. You’d started to wonder if Kylo was there at all when the door flew open, a gloved hand seized your arm and ripped you into the hallway.

There was no time to breathe or argue before a massive body pinned you flat along the now-closed hatch. Breathless and urgent, two hands clutched your thighs and pushed you up the wall until your face was level and your hips were flush with his, restrained arousal jamming into your heat. You didn’t get to speak a word--in seconds, Kylo’s mouth bruised yours.

The kiss was angry, teeth gnashing and clacking, his tongue trying to gag you with its invasion. While his hips bucked into you, he forced your legs to secure around his waist, and then his hands were in your hair, fisting hard, the tightness of his grip making you wince. He growled, snarled, rolled his pelvis into yours as if he was already fucking you, the friction sending your brain into a tailspin. His tongue tangled with yours, slid along your teeth, his wet lips leaving saliva around the perimeter of your mouth before he pulled away, one hand leaving your scalp to pinch your chin.

“Is this what you wanted?” He attacked your neck, biting and nipping at it, his voice hoarse with need. “After all of that teasing in front of the General?” Another kiss--his mouth a vacuum, like he was trying to rob you of breath. “Little slut.”

Your mind was already dizzy with desire--it’d hit you like a freighter, deafening your body to any cry but the one for his touch. And you couldn’t lie, either: yes, fuck yes this is what you wanted. He snickered.

“I heard that.” He was back on your neck again, digging bite marks into your skin, back to grabbing your thighs while his hips rutted you into the wall, sending echoes up the durasteel and through your back. “So desperate for my cock, aren’t you?” His lips sealed around your skin, sucking a hot, painful welt into your throat. “Can’t stop thinking about it for even a moment. Such a--” a kiss to your jaw, “--filthy--” and another on your cheek, “--little--” a final one on your mouth, “--whore.”

You groaned, meeting his eyes. They were black with impatient lust, stark against his reddened cheeks. He’d been wanting this for hours, now. Fire rose in your chest, and on instinct, you snagged two fistfuls of his hair--tugging at his scalp, nails scraping his skin.

“Looks like I’m not the only desperate one, Commander,” you purred. He froze--either in shock or enjoyment, and you took his bottom lip between your teeth, dragging it out, the curve of plump flesh giving under pressure. “You’ve been wanting to get in my pussy since the moment you woke up.”

He smirked. “Naughty--”

The chance to silence him with a kiss was impossible to resist--you worked your mouth over his, thrusting your tongue over his molars, raking your fingers through his hair and down his back. Kylo’s hold on you tightened, and you kissed to his jaw, up the line of bone to one of his rounded ears, flushed warm and red. Grinning, you nibbled his lobe, and his hips jerked into you while he moaned, deep and trembling.

“Fuck,” he gasped, lifting you off of the wall only to slam you into it once more, his erection like a rock jabbing your sex. “You’re right, you know…” He started rocking his pelvis into you again, grinding his covered member while he ghosted his lips over your sensitive neck, sending shivers over your skin. “I’m so hard…” A wet line slicked from your pulse to your ear. “I need to feel that tight little cunt cumming around my cock…” You whimpered, squirming as a firestorm raged through you. “I need to fuck you.”

“Then fuck me, Commander.” Hunger darkened your voice. “Can’t guarantee I’ll cum, though.”

He leaned back, raised a brow. “Is that a challenge, pet?”

You grinned. “It might be.”

Kylo smirked, smashing your lips together in a rabid kiss, grunting into your moaning mouth while his hands worked at pulling his cock from his pants. It slapped your thigh--heavy and hot and smooth, like satin steel--and then two gloved digits yanked your soaked panties to the side, letting him drive into you, sinking to the hilt without hesitation. You wailed--despite being wet, he’d broken you open with a burn, and you buried your face in his cowl when he hit your cervix, his chest rumbling with a satisfied growl.

“Good girl,” he murmured--and the thrusting started.

It was like you’d imagined earlier--hard, vicious, primal. You bounced and jiggled with every smack of his hips, air forced from your lungs in sharp bursts. Fighting for stability, your fingers found purchase around his biceps, his muscles flexing and tensing while his entire body used you for its pleasure. He huffed, breath short and harsh, dick pounding you with an unforgiving pace. The only thing you could do was cry out, wind around him, let your flesh be wracked with the surges of blissful, perfect pain.

“You love this,” he growled. “Listen to you. You love being fucked like this.” He grunted, shifted one of his feet to give him a deeper angle--and you winced, whining as the he pummeled your cervix with every thrust. “You love being used like the dirty slut you are--fuck--”

Moaning, you nodded, snaking your digits into his hair, legs going numb with the punishment, his hips hiccuping your every word. “Still--haven’t--made--me--cum!”

Kylo’s fingers bit bruises into your thighs, and he pulled you from the wall and his length, tossing you over his shoulder, his movements jaunty and hurried as he wobbled into his bedroom. He was quick, throwing you onto the bed and then snatching you back up, pulling your legs to his chest, one arm holding them together along his body, the other down between your legs, pulling over your panties and guiding the slick head of his member along your wet, swollen folds.

“Take it,” he hissed, and plunged straight into your dripping core.

You moaned--with his dick inside of you, he wrapped his other arm around your legs, hugging them to his chest, holding you still as he started ramming into you. The position had him feeling even thicker than he normally did, and even with clothes on, you heard the quick, lewd smacks of your flesh slapping against him. You threw your head back, lids sealing shut, digits grasping at his sheets, body submitting to his power.

“That’s right...” He was pushing his words out between his shallow breath. “That’s right… take it--take this cock--shit!”

He’d ratcheted you to your limit--you needed that stimulation on your clit, and after hours and hours of an enduring need for release, you were clamoring for it--and he still seemed far too concerned with the way your walls pulsed around his length.

You met his eyes--they were wild and animalistic with lust. “You gonna make me cum, or what?”

His first response was to squeeze you tighter, fuck into you harder, turn your snark into screams as he pulverized your cunt--and then he spoke. “You want to cum, bitch?” He reached between your legs, slipping his thumb into your slit, stroking over your throbbing clit--and you gasped, pleading for more. “Cum--cum on this fucking cock.”

“Yes--fuck--yes!”

Lightning tore through your nervous system, leaving a wake of sparks in its path, and you clenched around his dick, shaking and spasming as your orgasm quaked through your body. Kylo gripped you to his chest, slamming your pussy, panting and groaning while he fucked you through your climax and straight into his own, a low, feral roar escaping him, his cum spilling deep into your cunt.

Fog seeped into your skull--you wanted to think, to speak, to do anything other than suck air into your lungs and knead the sheets between your digits. Kylo’s chin was dropped to his chest, his shoulders swelling as he chased his breath, and he dropped you, letting your legs flop like rubber onto the bed.

Cum was leaking from you already--soiling the sheets and your panties, and you gulped a chestful of oxygen, seeking out Kylo’s gaze while he wiped the sweat from his forehead and tucked himself away. For some reason, when your eyes met, you blushed--and he returned your stare with something guarded, something unreadable. Its intensity made your heart jump, enveloped your body with elation and belonging--but it was too much, too strong, too foreign, its weight like an anvil on your ribcage. You wanted to look away.

Before you could, he waved his hand, and you floated up until you were sitting, gaze still stuck to his. Hesitating, he watched you for a moment, scanning your face before he crouched, getting level with you, nose only inches from yours, brown eyes searing scarlet into your face. You were grateful that breathing wasn’t something you needed to remember. You would have forgotten immediately.

“I depart tomorrow,” he said, as if this was the tenderest, most thoughtful sentence that could have left his mouth.

You glanced at your knees, nodded. “Yep.”

He thumbed your jaw. “You will remain safe until my return.”

“Uh, I don’t know, will I?”

A huff--was it a laugh? “You will.”

You nodded, mouth a firm line while you studied the crannies on the backs of your hands. “You helped me today.”

Kylo pushed his thumb under your chin, forcing you to link eyes again. “No one can harm you,” he said. There was a dark certainty in his voice. “No one.”

“I don’t know,” you said, trying to suppress your grin. “I might end up bruising myself one of these days, you know.”

His lip twitched, his eyes softened. “None worse than the ones I give you.”

Before you realized it, you were laughing, face splitting in a broad smile, a red glow blooming on your cheeks and nose. Then you looked at him again, and your chest constricted, bound by something so deep, so real, you almost choked on it. Fuck.

“I don’t want you to leave,” you mumbled. You wanted to be in his arms every night. You wanted more of his warmth, more of his strength, more of… this.

Kylo Ren cradled your head in his large hand, pressing his lips to yours in a soft, soothing kiss. “You will see me in bed tonight. Then I depart.”

Swallowing every dancing, joyous squeal in your throat, you nodded. “Okay.”

His face hardened, and he stood, swaying over to the table with his helmet. He tucked it under his arm and turned to you one final time. “You were thinking about it.”

“Huh?” You blinked. That could mean literally anything ever.

“Sweet thing.”

Blood looped in your veins. “Oh,” you said, fiddling with your fingers. “Y-yes.”

A tiny, smug smirk twisted his lips. “I’ll remember that.”

Then his helmet was on his head, and he was gone.

Chapter Text

“Kylo?”

His name was croaked in between a thick slab of sleep, before your eyes even opened to a curtain of black air. It had taken a moment for you to even speak, to even realize where you were and what was happening: Kylo Ren’s bedroom. You’d fallen asleep hours earlier. And he was next to you--twitching, whimpering, his breath skipping in his chest.

Brain leaping out of its coma, you reached for his shoulder, recoiling when sweat stuck your palm to his skin--he was naked from the waist up. You went to touch him again, grasping at the veils of perspiration. Every part of him was tense--his muscles woven and locked together, tendons jutting from his arms as you mapped his skin. When he didn’t stir, your heart reared into hyperdrive. You needed to wake him up.

“Kylo,” you murmured into the darkness.

You received no response--only more spasming. He was shuddering the bed.

“Kylo,” you said again, urgency sneaking into the edges of your voice. A tentative hand gripped his shoulder, gave it a shake.

Silence.

Frowning, you pushed him harder, wanting to rock him into reality--but he was a human stone in your hands. Even if his body was present, his mind was hostage somewhere else. Somewhere far away. Somewhere very, very unpleasant.

Blood surged through your veins, your fingers trembling as your eyes adjusted to the lack of light. What were you supposed to do? Did you want to be on the receiving end of his anger at whatever was doing that to him? A tiny, distant part of your mind chirped up: maybe I should leave. But when he gasped in his sleep, shrinking to a ball of fear, you smacked some sense into yourself. Your heart was fracturing with the simple knowledge of his pain--it would have been impossible to abandon him in it.

So you held your breath and plugged your digits into the muscles between his shoulders, jerking him like dead weight. “Kylo.” Nothing. “Kylo! Wake up!”

It happened all at once--the thunder-jolt of his body, muscles snapping like elastic as he flung himself forward, punctuated by a serrated, foreign sound, shredding its way out of his throat. It had all the qualities of a scream, but from his mouth, you couldn’t reconcile it--couldn’t reconcile the man you’d known with such a terrified, desperate noise.

You reached again, brushing your fingers over his arm, and he flinched, pouncing you into the bed, his hand clutching your neck, digits digging into the arteries. His lips were pinched in determination, and his eyes met yours--they were wide and empty, glazed over with a lifeless haze. Swallowing against his palm, you tapped his wrist, choking out a plea.

“Kylo, it’s me,” you said. “It’s me.”

Something inside of him shattered, and he released you, looking between his hands and your neck before scrambling backwards, snatching a pillow and flinging it into the far wall with a grunt. His back crested like a feral animal, swelling with the shallow waves of his breath. Hopeful that he’d come down, you tested the air.

“Kylo--”

Snarling, he threw himself from the bed, stalking up and down the room, mumbling to himself, before he spun, grabbing his helmet and lobbing it like a boulder, howling from the depths of his chest. It slammed the same wall, crashed to the floor, and you winced, tugging the sheets to your body. He bent at the waist, eyes darting around the room as if he’d lost his target--and then his head fell to his chest, hands to his knees. Frightened breath leaked into the silence.

“Why?” Kylo’s voice was raw, laced with simmering anger. A sharp inhale, and the simmer became a boil--he roared, raking his digits over his scalp. “Why is this still happening!” A convulsion resonated through his bones, a strangled gasp wracking his ribs. Even in the blue darkness, you could see the fists in his hair tighten, thick waves coiled like wires in his fingers.

Your muscles were malfunctioning. Every movement you asked them to make died somewhere mid-synapse. A quivering chin functioned as the only evidence that you were, indeed, alive. Claws constricted your heartbeat--you wanted to reach out. To soothe him. You wanted to know the right thing to do.

“W-why is… why is what happening?” It was the only thing that would leave your mouth.

But he was wordless, catching more convulsions in his chest, sucking in air through his nose, his hands falling from his hair to press their heels into his eyes. He groaned.

“It was supposed to make things easier.” Another growl. “This doesn’t make sense.”

“Hey, man,” you said, keeping your tone soft, “it’s okay--”

“No,” he said. “It’s not.” He crumbled to his knees, hands falling to brace the ground, fingers scratching at the tile like it would bunch into his palms. “It’s not. I killed him. I killed him, and nothing’s changed. It didn’t work. It didn’t work!”

Kylo snarled once more, pounding a fist into the floor with a fleshy thud, and then he did it again. And again. And again and again and again, until you heard a crack--from his hand or the ground, you weren’t sure--and he wailed in frustration, his arm quaking, elbows attempting to buckle. Your mind was a clutter of confusion and fear--behind the desire to ease his pain, you were now bombarded with questions you weren’t sure you wanted answered. Even still, after his breath started to slow, you found yourself trying anyway.

“You… you, um, you killed someone?”

His face was hidden behind the sweaty nest of his hair. “Yes,” he said. “It should… Supreme Leader…” He grunted, shaking his head. “Why didn’t it work?”

“Who, uh, who did you kill?” You had no clue what you were doing. You just wanted to keep him talking.

The question brought a thick spread of silence, anyway. But you saw his hands kneading the solid floor, saw his chest still with motionless lungs. He was thinking. After a minute, he shook with a laugh--either pride or disgust.

“My father.” His voice was duller than death. “I killed my father.”

Knives speared your chest. What? How were you supposed to respond to that? “You killed your father.”

Another laugh, echoing through his bones. “I killed him,” he said. “It didn’t work. I killed him. It didn’t work.” Laughter was wracking his body, now, and his elbows folded, his head burying into his arms as they toppled to the tile. His back heaved with throttled pain as he tried to bottle his cries, muffled by his own flesh.

It was a mixture of instinct and fear that had you crawl from the bed and creep over the floor before you sank down in front of him. He hadn’t yet shed a tear--he was fighting back his sobs with every single red fiber of his being. Tipping him in any direction might splinter him to pieces. But you had to do something. Words were useless--so you pushed a hand into the damp mats of his hair, skimming your nails over his scalp.

He hiccupped. “Why?”

Face twisting with uncertainty, you resolved to keep petting him. While your heart was prepared to plummet from your throat into the floor, your brain was trapped in a tempest. He killed his father. Something didn’t work. He killed his father? What was he talking about? What had you gotten yourself into?

“W-why what?”

Kylo lifted his head, looking up at you, eyes misted with fear and exhaustion. “I’m so weak.”

Hairline webs of panic tore your heart into sharp, jagged shards, and you captured his face between your hands, palms burning from the heat of his heavy cheeks. There was nothing, now-- no hesitation, no confusion. He needed you. And you were there.

“No,” you murmured, stroking his skin with your thumbs. “No, no, no.”

“It’s not supposed to hurt.” Every new word chipped away at his stony facade. “But it still hurts.”

You blinked away the water in your vision, looking into him, through him, searching for something in the black canyons of his eyes. “What hurts?”

Thousands of invisible restraints popped at once, and his face broke, lids pinching shut, mouth curling into an open, wretched frown, his cheeks crimson. “Everything,” he whimpered--and then everything else broke, too. Tears raced like rivers over his cheeks, collecting in the wells of your palms, as a long-awaited, gasping sob ripped through him. “Everything!”

At the same time he went to jerk away, you pulled him forward, plunging him into the valley between your naked breasts, cradling his head as he tumbled into a pile of weeping, intangible wounds. It only took a few moments before his arms curled around you, too, his face pressing into your body as every ounce of pain tried to flee his flesh at once. Each gulp he took rattled him, air escaping only in the forms of wet, open, wails, All you could think to do was to turn your fingers to needles through his hair, and all that would leave your mouth was pointless, witless whispering.

“Shh,” you cooed. “Shh…”

If he cared or even noticed that you were nude, he didn’t show it. He sniffled and groaned into your skin, streaking it with tears and saliva--but you didn’t care, not as long as he felt he could hold you, hook his fingers into your flesh, anchor himself to you like a ship caught in a storm. For as little as you understood, you found yourself realizing you couldn’t feel more grateful that he’d chosen you as his pillar.

The moments were long, immeasurable--but eventually, his muscles trembled with fatigue, his lungs huffed with weary breath, and the reservoir of his tears had dried up. He was drained. The only things left pumping through him were blood and shame.

Sighing, you seized his face in your hands again, pulling him up, angling his gaze toward yours. You saw evidence of the kindling for his rage, doused by the waterfall of regret and hopelessness. They’d left puddles behind--pools of shadowed anxiety lingering in the backdrop of his reddened, watery eyes.

“You’re strong.” You ruffled a section of mussy hair. “It’s okay.”

He blinked. “No.”

You weren’t going to play this game. “Yes.” His forehead was cold when you kissed it. “Yes.”

“N-no.” He was relenting. Almost.

Nodding, you pressed a kiss to his nose. “Yes.” Then you pushed your own nose against his. “Yes.”

His eyes barely focused on yours, now, they were so close--but neither of you broke the stare for even a nanosecond. “No,” he whispered. You felt his breath on your lips, the movement of his mouth, millimeters from yours. “No.”

“Yes,” you insisted, and brushed your sensitive lips over his. “Yes.”

Kylo closed his lids, shivering. “Yes.”

And then his mouth was on yours, soft and swollen, his body shifting while he rose to his knees. You rose with him, his hands gliding up your back to grip the sides of your face, to hold you in place as he worked your lips with a deep, slow, deliberance. He wasn’t just hungry. He was suffocating--every kiss breathing life into his lungs.

He moaned, moving from your mouth to allow you some air, lips lining kisses down your neck, wet prints drying on your skin, until he found your breasts. When he reached them, he pulled away, admiring them like you’d stolen his innocence. One hand slid from your face to your tit, pushing and prodding at the pliant flesh. When your nipples hardened in response to his touch, he swallowed, and dove in, sucking one of the stiffened buds into his mouth.

Air hitched in your throat, but you hummed in satisfaction, combing through his hair, watching him while he kneaded your breast and suckled your nipple until it was fat between his teeth. His tongue teased the tip, another moan escaping him when you mewled in response.

“Kylo,” you purred, biting your lip when his eyes flicked to yours.

But something made him stop when he gazed at you, your plump peak falling from his mouth--he inhaled shakily and faltered again, whimpering as he pressed his warm cheek to your sternum. His hands gripped you like you’d evaporate, the muscles in his shoulders hardening to steel while he beat away another round of sobs.

“I-I don’t…” He staved off a shudder. “You’re still here.”

You nodded, tracing whorls into the topography of his back. “I am.”

If you were being honest, you still had no inkling of what you were supposed to be doing or thinking. You wanted to just exist--for him--but a part of you couldn’t shake the notion that he’d killed his father. The thought sunk like a brick to the bottom of your heart.

His fingers bit your skin--he’d heard you. Fuck. Might as well not waste time pretending, then. You sighed.

“W-why… why did you, um. Do…”

Kylo sniffled, leaning back, his brow furrowed as he forced you to meet his gaze. “He was a coward.” A long, slow exhale left him. “He hated who I was.” His throat bobbed when he swallowed, suppressing another breakdown. “I thought... I don’t…” He growled, driving the heels of his hands back into his eyes. “It didn’t fix anything!”

Before he gave out, you grabbed him, yanking him back against your chest, ghosting digits through his hair as you shushed him. He vibrated as he corked the dam of sorrow inside of his chest, and clutched your flesh in his shaking hands.

“I am,” he muttered. “I’m a monster.”

“No,” you replied, the word shocking you as it left your mouth. You realized, then: yes, he’d made mistakes. Many of them. But seeing him like this--you didn’t care. You wanted to forgive them all. “You’re a man.”

He peeled his face from your chest, staring up at you. Blinking his glossy eyes, his brow knitted in confusion. “Say it again.”

“A man,” you said. “A man. You’re a man.”

A long pause, his gaze piercing you, studying you, waiting to catch a hint that you were lying. But you knew what he was hearing--because it was in your head, too. And you knew he was coming up empty.

“Say it again.”

You swallowed. “A ma--”

Kylo’s lips smothered yours, his kiss desperate and needy, his hands groping at your breasts and sliding down to your ass, caressing and massaging every exposed expanse of skin they could find. You groaned into his open mouth, pushing your tongue past his teeth, pressing your palms to his chest as you pushed him into sitting on his heels. The room was emptied of any noise but the slick smacks of your lips and the quiet grunts of your mounting arousal.

Gasping, he pulled away, lips shining with spit. “You… why…” He glanced at the floor, eyes flooding again. “I don’t understand.”

Against anything that made sense, you blushed. “Kylo…” You took his chin in your hand. “Lie on the bed.”

He paused--you were afraid you’d said the wrong thing--but without a word, he rose, pacing over to the bed and spreading himself on top of it. You drank in his every move, not failing to notice the massive tent in his tight bottoms. Grinning, you pulled yourself to your feet, climbing onto the mattress and straddling him, pressing your already wet cunt onto his bulge. He groaned, bucking his hips--he must have felt it, too--and you planted your palms onto his broad, strong chest.

Kylo’s quaking hands circled your wrists. His face was pulled tight with fear. “You’re so beautiful.” Tears slipped down to his ears, his lips quivering.

“It’s okay.” You broke from his grip, wiping away the streams that had sullied his cheeks. “I’m here.”

You bent down, cupping his cheek in your hand, gracing his nose with a kiss, and then shifted to his mouth, your lips touching once, twice, three times before you locked together, sucking in air through your nostrils as you melted into him. He whimpered, clutching your head, holding you to him as he thrust his tongue over yours, seeking to steal your words and brand you with desire. Moaning, you braced against his chest, rocking your pelvis, grinding down onto his covered cock, and he held you tighter, meeting you stroke for stroke, swallowing your kiss like he needed it to breathe.

With one hand still caressing his face, the other slithered down his chest, over his flat stomach, to the top of his clothed dick. Grunting, you popped the top of his length out from his bottoms, and he groaned into your mouth, the strain having been relieved. Your digits pinched and squeezed at the tip, smearing precum around the slit and under the ridge of the head, heart flitting when he twitched in your grip. Kylo pushed you off, gasping, eyes falling straight to your tits.

His large hand skated over your skin, back to your breast, rolling it in his long fingers. “Beautiful.” He examined the supple give in his palm, the response of your nipple, and met your gaze. “I want you…”

You grinned, leaning over, guiding his head toward your chest. “Then have me.”

When the pad of his finger grazed the bud, you squeaked, and that was enough for him--he jerked you forward, sealing his lips around it.

Heat flooded your body, now, and you moaned, digits returning to his hair, chest arching into the firmness of his hands, the wet warmth of his mouth. His lips were a vacuum, his digits pushing into your flesh, like he’d draw something from your tit if he suckled and kneaded hard enough.

“That’s it,” you whispered. “Don’t stop…”

Your words emboldened him, and he pinched your nipple between his teeth, flicked it with his tongue, trying to suck it into the back of his throat, earning him a string of squeals. He was becoming more aggressive by the second--one hand was bruising your breast, the other growing roots into your thigh as he snapped his hips up into yours.

Every twitch and jerk of his cock made you clench, and your fingers started to pull the rest of his length free, your hand running over his hot, smooth skin as you revealed it, inch by inch. You wrapped your digits around it, rubbing, and he finally released your tit with a groan.

“Lie back.” You pumped his cock faster. “Let me take care of you.”

Kylo whined your name, his head plopping onto the pillows. His dick was pulsing, throbbing in your palm.

“Shh,” you said. “Doesn’t it feel good to just let me stroke you like this?” You swirled your thumb around the tip, painting more precum down his shaft. “Don’t you like letting me play with your cock?”

He nodded, whimpering your name again, thrusting gently into your fist.

“You’re so good…” You gripped him tighter, pushing the skin to the head, twisting your wrist. “You’re so hard for me, so big.” A smirk pulled at your lips. “I bet you want to slide this cock into my pussy, don’t you?”

His lids shut tight, and he nodded again, his hands grasping at your hips as he groaned.

“Yeah?” You jerked his dick faster. “You want me to clench around you? You want to feel how wet and tight and warm I am?”

“Yes,” he finally admitted, grimacing in pleasure.

You were panting, now, pounding his cock. “You want to feel me clamp down on your cock when I cum? Want me to fuck you until you cum inside of me?” His shaft was slick and loud with his own fluid. “Is that what you want, hm? To fill my pussy up with your cum?”

He cried out in frustration. He was close. “Yes, yes!” More than anything, he didn’t want to cum. Not yet. Not in your hand. “Please--please!”

Grinning, you released him, and he whinged. But you didn’t let him suffer for long. You wanted to give him pleasure, wanted him to feel needed, wanted him to forget about everything but the feeling of being inside of you, wanted him to spill his seed into your cunt.

You took his hands in yours, weaving your fingers together, holding them to his chest while you shifted your hips, rocking them until the head of his cock caught on your folds. He gripped your hands, and you held your breath, guiding the tip to your anxious core. After all, just as badly as he wanted you--you wanted him, too. When you felt it prodding at your entrance, you tensed, sliding down his length in one long stroke.

A cross between a moan and a sob left him, and you exhaled, settling at the base of his dick, clenching and squeezing as you sat there with him inside of you. Even though you’d fucked not even hours ago, he was still thick enough to stretch you to silence, and you collected yourself, rising up and then dropping down, working yourself open with his cock.

“Mmm, fuck, Kylo… You feel so good.” You rolled your hips, grinning when he gasped at the sudden friction. “You like being inside this pussy?”

All he was able to was nod, his nails cutting into your knuckles, his pink mouth agape with unintelligible pleasure.

“Good.” Smirking, you started to fuck yourself on his cock, your breath already labored with excitement. “Good…”

Kylo threw his head back into the bed, choking on his own bliss, his grip on your hands tight enough to crack them. He attempted to fuck up into you to the best of his ability--all while you rode his dick, your core swallowing and pulsing around him with every thrust. The bed shook with your effort, your thighs flexing while you bounced on his cock, skin slapping with every connection. And the harder you fucked him, the more needy your clit became--it’d been swollen and aching since you’d straddled him, but now, with the ridges of his dick stroking your walls, it was demanding to cum around him. But... you didn’t want to let go of his hands.

“Want me to cum on this cock?”

Again, he bobbed his head in assent, but you weren’t done.

“Then make me cum,” you ordered. “Without dropping my hands.”

His fingers twitched in between yours, and then you felt it--the Force, swirling around your clit, rubbing your little nub halfway to climax with no effort at all. You moaned, slamming your hips into his, driving his dick into your stomach, tightening with the anticipation of your peak. Every breath was a pant, now, matching his own chorus of grotesque noise, and you worked faster, milking him with your cunt, the stimulation on your clit making you wilder. Trying to catch oxygen through your groans, sweat blossomed on your forehead.

“Yes,” you sighed. “Yes, Kylo, yes…”

Your noises were louder, more insistent--and you shut your lids, focusing on the surge of ecstasy numbing your body. Burrowing your fingers into his tendons, you could feel the hammering of his heart in his chest, could feel the cycle of oxygen in his lungs, could feel how terrified he was to let you go.

The warm buzz of orgasm gathered between your legs, and you cried out when his cock hit the sweet spot inside of you, shooting you over the edge into euphoria. Every bit of composure left you as you rode his dick like an animal, moaning and drooling as an intense, passionate climax charged through your nerves. Kylo howled, crushing your hands as he came, his hips jumping and bucking into you as he filled you with load after load of his hot cum. It wasn’t until he was sure he was spent that he flopped back onto the bed, still gripping your digits in his.

Eager to catch your own breath, you rolled off of him, falling next to him on the bed, observing him while his eyes fluttered open. He stared into the ceiling, chest heaving, his hands fiddling with yours until he found a comfortable position. There were no words, and there was no motion--just you, watching him recover, memorizing every little movement of his face as he found his way back to reality.

“You’re here.” His voice crackled with emptiness.

Grinning, you snuggled closer. “I’m here.”

Joy poured like plaster into the holes of your heart, filling you whole, wrapping you in safety and warmth, more than you thought was even possible. It was so much that your chest ached with the weight of it, ribs shrinking under how tight it wound around you. You figured, surely, there weren’t words strong enough to describe it, this feeling. It was far too powerful, too encompassing, like glimmering, invincible armor that enveloped your every weakness and fortified your every strength. It forged courage from your fear, thawed out your frozen veins, drained your blood of its venom until you were left with nothing but pure, golden heat.

Surely, this feeling was indescribable, you thought, until Kylo’s head turned, and his eyes met yours, so vulnerable and lonely and black-brown-black, that it spilled over, falling like petals out of your mouth.

“I love you.”

And the second the words had left your lips, your eyes became saucers in your skull, your cheeks and throat and tongue drying to desert-dust. You hadn’t been expecting that. Judging from his reaction--wooden, steel-faced--neither had he. There was still hope, though, that he’d swoop in, coddle you in his arms, preserve what little dignity you had left with his lips.

Of course, that wasn’t what happened.

He jerked his hands from you, and panic evolved into hidden hysteria while you fought to keep his fingers in yours. But your palms were sweating, slipping out of his, and he was strong, tucking himself away and leaping onto the floor. You shook your head, pleading. You wanted to salvage this, you wanted to take it all back--but you knew he heard the inside of your head. Now that you’d assigned the feeling some articulation, it was all that was whirling through your mind. A constant, endless vomit of thought:

IloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyouIloveyou.

Kylo’s lips curled in dismissal, his brow drawn over his eyes. They were cold, guarded with every shield in his arsenal. “Leave.”

Real vomit bubbled up your esophagus, and you tripped out of bed in an attempt to follow him. “K-Kylo, w-w-wait--”

“No,” he said, spitting your name between his teeth. He stalked over to the door--the door to the mask. “Leave.”

He fled into the room, and you toppled after, ramming into the hatch as it shut behind him. It was locked, this time, for good. You punched the durasteel--that would leave a mark--and you begged through breaking breath, scraping your nails over the door.

“Kylo, please, let me explain,” you said. “Please, Kylo, please!” Something hot and wet burned your face. “Kylo! Please! Please!”

Like your foundation had been destroyed, you collapsed into the ground, the tile cool and hard on your fiery skin. You cried for him until your voice was a whisper and your eyes were dry. Beyond the door, you heard no sound, no movement, as if he’d gone in there and disappeared. Perhaps it would be better if he did. You could forget any of this had ever happened.

Except you didn’t want that. Because you were stupid. Because you loved him.

After a time long enough to still the air in your chest, you groaned, and gave up. The floor blurred to a black slate in front of you, and you pulled yourself to your feet, knees wobbling. The room was spinning around you, and you stumbled around it, searching any article of your clothing. A sticky streak of cum leaked down your thighs, and you nearly split into another torrent of tears. Every movement made you feel like you were traversing a jungle of daggers. The ache in your chest had transformed into a gaping wound. You wanted to die, right there, right then--escape any hint of the pain. Forget everything, and everyone, and especially Kylo Fucking Ren.

But no. You needed to get back to your cot. You had work in the morning.

Chapter Text

Cover-up was one of the better inventions in the galaxy, you figured. When you’d finished, there wasn’t a stray spot on your skin that looked out of place. No, every inch was smooth and unblemished on the surface--an accomplishment, really, considering that you’d spent over thirty minutes caking over the handprints, the hickeys, and the seemingly-permanent stains on your cheeks.

Hiding the marks left by his lips was the most difficult. You would have preferred to tattoo them into your blood.

If you were being honest, you weren’t completely certain if you needed to arrive at your assignment at your scheduled time. After all, the Command Shuttle had departed over an hour earlier, leaving you with little to do. Especially when you considered the pronounced absence of any Chief Engineer. Who would take Dash’s place? Furthermore--who would even want to?

But arrive you did, shrinking as you stared into the empty space left by the shuttle. Part of you was surprised they’d managed to complete the repairs so quickly--but you supposed that between the application of actual effort and assistance of droids, anything was possible.

And perhaps you were even happy that he was gone. You wouldn’t have to see him, then. You wouldn’t have to remember how it felt to be in his arms. You wouldn’t have to remember the taste of his lips or the rumble of his voice or the softness of eyes. You could let the canyon blown through your chest weep its ache into the void--you could begin the difficult work of patching over the shredded remains of your heart.

Stars, you sounded dramatic. But, it was honest. Every word of it.

The sound of your name pierced the cloud swallowing your head--and you spun, cheeks burning. Why were you embarrassed? It wasn’t as if anyone else knew that you’d been metaphorically speared by Kylo Ren’s lightsaber.

“Hey!” It was Minks, with Sam on her heels--a pair of perky, blue-eyed blondes. Though it’d only been, what, a few days, since you’d last seen her, it felt like it had been an eternity. So much had happened. Too much. “You’re, uh… you’re here!”

“I’m here.” Even though you’d tried to muster up a performance of happiness, every spark died on your tongue. There wasn’t a single part of your body that had the energy to pretend. “What do you want.”

Minks and Sam frowned, looked at each other. Even that subtle glance was enough to rend the wound even wider. They had a connection. A real connection. When would you have something like that? Someone who cared about you? Maybe you never would. Given all that you’d done to land yourself in this position to begin with, who was saying you even deserved it?

“I know you’ve been through a lot,” Sam said, not knowing the half of it. “We just--we wanted to make sure you were okay.”

We. We. They were a unit, now. Together. You wondered who would say it first--I love you. You wondered what it would be like to hear it back--I love you, too.

You blinked--you really didn’t want to start crying. “Y-yup. I’m, uh, I’m fine. F-fine and dandy. Really great. Super terrific. Fine. Fine.”

Minks frowned. “Are you sure? After what happened with Dash…”

Flames fluttered at the back of your neck. You blinked again. And again. But no matter how many times you batted your eyelashes, the water kept welling while your mind reeled. Dash’s face, drawn in death. The smell of his cooked flesh, the red ray of Kylo’s saber. And it wouldn’t stop: your fight, Kylo’s room, the kiss, sweet thing, Hux’s office, Force-fingering, laughing, smiling, his scream, his tears, holding hands, holding him, his eyes--I love you--

Bolts of pain shot up your thighs when your knees smacked the ground, your hands clawing at your scalp, lids snapped and mouth wide with bellowing sobs. Your face, hot as a star, sizzled the streams of tears that slipped down your cheeks, your body convulsing as agony flowed like lava through your veins. Gods, if only you could die, drop dead right in the docking bay, rot to a mess of bones and pointless flesh.

You’d collapsed into such an inconsolable pile of waste that you had little memory of Minks and Sam scooping you up and dragging you from the bay, though you retained snippets of Minks’ hand at your back, your arm over Sam’s shoulder. The next cohesive image you had was of the three of you, seated at a table next to one of the Finalizer’s massive panes of transparisteel. You stared out into the endless expanse of empty air. You wanted to float through space like a rock, become as anonymous as the stars, make it so Kylo Ren could never, ever find you again.

Despite having said nothing, your friends must have understood, somehow, that the words waiting on your tongue were taking their time. You wished, for once, that they could read your mind, too--that way, you wouldn’t have to articulate the tangle of emotions stuck inside of your chest.

“The thing with Dash…” You swallowed, folding your arms. A fighter blinked by the window. “He was, um. He was killed by Commander Ren.”

“Well, yeah,” Sam said. “We all, uh, knew that. When they took the body out of the shuttle. It was… obvious.” His face looked pale.

“Oh.”

“We just want to know what happened with you,” Minks said.

You met her eyes--they were earnest, as always. But they weren’t earnest enough to soothe the storm in your head.

“You remember when I told you that Dash was a fucking creep, Minks?” Pain congealed into a molten ball of rage. “Remember when I fucking threw up on your fucking shoes and told you I was worried about him?”

She shrunk in her seat. “Um. Yeah. Yeah, I remember that.”

“And what did you tell me, that day? Do you remember that?”

“Um.” Pink crept into her cheeks. “Well. I think I told you not to--”

“Not to worry about him. Right. In fact, I think you said the words, he’s harmless, you can even ask Sam.”

Sam balked. “What? Why are we bringing me into this?”

“I… I was just trying to make you feel better--”

“Well, guess what!” you barked. “Guess what! Dash was a creep! He tried to fucking rape me! And then when that didn’t work, he decided to fucking strangle me, instead!”

Perhaps that’d been a little harsh--but it’d been true. Your choice of words had sent Sam and Minks into silence, both of them gazing at you with mouths agape. Minks’ face crinkled, and she shook her head.

“N-no,” she said. “I-I’m so…”

You rolled your eyes. “Yep! That happened! So then when he tried doing that, my fucking knight in flowy armor storms in and makes Dash a fucking spitroast!” Your nails cut into your sweating palms. “It’s like, wow, if only a single person had listened to what I was trying to tell them!”

Something broke. You’d meant to maintain your anger, but everything was crumbling again, and you shielded your face with your hands, shoulders heaving with new, raw tears. And then more words tumbled free (if only you had a plug for your mouth), words that sounded bizarre and unfamiliar spoken aloud.

“M-maybe t-then I wouldn’t have f-fucking ended up in Kylo Ren’s f-fucking room and t-told him I f-fucking l-loved him!” An ugly wheeze ground your vocal cords. “He fucking h-h-hates me, now!”

You howled, whimpering into your palms while you wept, coating your skin with salty tears. Minks shot up, rushing to your side and wrapping her arms around you, shushing you while she rubbed your back. It seemed like hours that she held you, waiting for your sobs to subside, though you were sure it had only been minutes. The number of fits you’d had in the past 24 hours was now moving into two-hands-needed territory, and the well was drying quicker each time.

When you’d calmed, she squeezed your shoulder before sitting, and you finally met both of their stares, tinged with confusion and concern. And both of them also seemed eager to ignore the admission about the Commander, and you didn’t blame them. What do you say to a friend who’d fallen in love with the most powerful, terrifying man in the entire galaxy? Too bad, dude, maybe you’ll have better luck with the next emotionally-stunted Force warrior?

Sighing, you shrugged. “So. Anyway. Uh. How’s work.”

Sam appeared grateful for a change of subject. “It’s been rough, dude,” he said. “There’s an issue with one of the freighters. No one’s been able to work it out, and it’s dragging productivity into a black hole.”

“Really?” A little spark flickered to life--a feeling you’d almost forgotten. “What’s wrong with it?”

“It’s like the fuel cells don’t charge, or something,” Minks said. “And we’ve tried everything, really--we’ve replaced the cells, we’ve replaced the generator, we’ve rooted through all the lines--nothing. They’re just--they’re dead.”

You blinked, crossing your arms. “Hm. Do you think that they might be charged, they’re just not getting to the engine, somehow?”

Sam shook his head. “No. We thought of that. But the engine is fine.”

“Hm,” you said again, brow furrowing in thought. “Hm.”

“The furthest we’ve gotten is getting the engine to blink,” Minks said, “but that’s only when we took the limiter out.”

“Hah.” You were familiar with limiters, at this point. Too familiar. But something was off about what she’d said. “Wait. You took the limiter out and it worked?”

Minks shrugged. “I mean, kind of. But it was for, like, a split second. And, uh, you know as well as we do that a ship can’t fly without a limiter.”

“Minks,” Sam chided.

You waved a hand. “No, no, that’s fine. She’s right.” Staring into the table, you bit your lip. The only reason removing the limiter would create an engine flare is if there was something making the limiter do its job. And if the engine was fine, then… “It’s the heat sink.”

Sam blinked, frowning. “No, it can’t be. I checked the heat sink.”

“Then check again, Foster,” you replied. “Did you check the temperature calibration?”

He nodded. “Of course I did.”

“And did you reset the calibration after you replaced the fuel cells? Or, even better, replace the calibrator?”

Face falling, his cheeks glowed red. “Uh. No, no. I didn’t do that.”

Clapping, you held out your palms. “Welp! There’s your problem. I guarantee, if you replace the calibrator, it’ll work.” You winked. “Mystery solved.”

Minks beamed, reaching across the table to grab your hand. “You are the best!” she said. “We need you back there! I’m so happy you’re coming back!”

Swallowing, you withdrew from her grasp. “Uh, I don’t really know about that. Hux never told me one way or the other and I just kind of showed up hoping someone would tell me what I was doing.”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “What? Are you serious?” He shook his head. “No way. That isn’t right. After everything you’ve done?”

“I dunno what to tell you, dude,” you said. “Hux just doesn’t like me.”

There was a pause as he considered your words. His face screwed in dismay, glimpsing a distant planet before he turned back to you. “I’ll talk to him.” Then he stood, dusting off the bottoms of his uniform while he nodded to himself. “You’ll see. You’ll be back. I’ll talk to him. Just wait here.”

He marched off, face taut with determination, echoes of his footsteps bouncing around the infinite surfaces inside the Finalizer. You fought off a smile as you watched him go, heart twinging with a sting of regret. One of your many mistakes, disappearing in front of you. You wondered what your life would look like, now, if you’d resisted Kylo Ren. If you’d stuck to your stupid mantra. If you’d exercised just a tiny, miniscule amount of self-control. You wondered what your life would be like if you’d never even wanted Kylo Ren to begin with.

You wondered this, as if you’d ever had a choice in what you’d wanted at all.

“I think he feels bad,” Minks said, glancing over her shoulder before looking at you. “He’d rather just do something for you.”

You nodded. “Yeah, I know.” A flush snuck onto your cheeks. “He’s, uh. He’s pretty great.”

“Yeah.” A shy smile curled her lips. “He is.” A pause, and she blinked, forehead wrinkling. “I hope, um. I hope there isn’t any… y’know… weirdness about…”

“No!” you replied, holding up your hands. “No, not at all.” What right would you have to have a problem with it, anyway? “You--you deserve it. You do. You guys look great together.” And it wasn’t a lie.

“Thank you.” She blushed. “Um. If you don’t wanna talk about it, that’s okay, but, um… what happened with you and, uh…”

“Kylo.” Saying his name without him around felt weird. Like you were breaking a rule. But that’s how you’d known him. “Me and Kylo.”

She nodded. “You and... Kylo.” Without the “Ren,” it sounded even weirder out of someone else’s mouth.

Sighing, you bowed your head. “Well,” you said. “I… I don’t really know.” You weren’t sure if you wanted to tell the whole story. A lot of it seemed private. Something you wanted to keep for you, and you alone. “We started having sex. A lot. Really, really incredible sex.” Blushing at the memory, you met Minks’ gaze--she seemed uncomfortable, at best. “Sorry. I just… I never had a connection with someone like I had with him.”

Minks looked like she had a thousand questions--and you didn’t blame her--but she probably knew most of them were far too inappropriate to ask.

“He had these moments,” you continued, “where he made me feel so… special. So safe. Like I was this precious thing he needed to take care of, or something.” The words sounded absolutely ridiculous coming out of your mouth. You wanted to shut yourself up with a sock--or, better yet, a rock to the head. “So I told him I loved him. Because…” Anguish cracked your voice. “I do. I do love him.”

“Oh, no.” Her lips formed a pout, in pity. You hated it. “He didn’t say it back.”

You shook your head, biting your lip as more tears stung your weary eyes. “He kicked me out. He made me leave.” No crying. You weren’t going to cry. “But I guess, um. I guess after all I did, that’s what I deserve.”

“No.” Minks’ voice was stern and cold. “You deserve to be loved.” She grabbed your hand, and your lip trembled. “You do. You deserve to be loved.”

Fuck. Another shatter, and your head slammed the table while your back swelled with fractured wails. Deserved to be loved. You. But if that was true, wouldn’t he have said it back? Wouldn’t he have pulled you close, met you with those impossibly deep brown eyes, and murmured it against your lips?

I love you, too, you imagined him saying, the rolling baritone of his voice rejuvenating your blood. I love you, too.

The fantasy only cracked you further, and you plummeted into a ocean of self-pity, whining and gasping as you poured out every last bit of pathetic, simpering emotion you had left inside of you. You couldn’t keep doing this. Not this many times in one day, anyway. Part of you thought that at least you’d be able to get a decent sleep. If your migraine and buzzing anxiety didn’t keep you awake again.

By the time you’d calmed down--Minks had sat with you the entire time--Sam had returned, cheeks ruddy from exertion. Why did he feel the need to run? Weirdo.

“Well?” Minks said, grinning. “What did Hux say?”

“Uh, he wasn’t there,” he replied. “I guess he does other things than sit around the bridge all day.”

“Oh.”

You shrugged. “Oh well. That’s fine. They’re probably going to ship me off somewhere else, anyway.”

“No,” Sam said, his tone as firm as Minks’ had been earlier. “You’re coming back. I’m going to take care of it.”

Minks nodded, standing shoulder-to-shoulder with him. “We’re going to take care of it.”

Warmth--friendship--covered you like a blanket. Maybe you weren’t as alone as you’d thought.

They did follow-up on their promise. You received a message the next day to report to your assignment, joining Sam and Minks in the expanded elite bay. Even after weeks of transfers, the destruction of Starkiller had still left a sizeable portion of superior fleets without a home. When you arrived, the backlog of work was enormous--just the type of thing you loved to tear apart. With your assistance, the list was cleared within a few days (and, yes, it had been the calibrator in the heat sink, thank you very much), and Sam and Minks weren’t only grateful--they were impressed. Under your direction, the docking bay was functional within two weeks.

Not that there wasn’t an ulterior motive to your effort. You knew the search for a Chief Engineer was ongoing. You wanted to show your superiors just how valuable and skilled you were. You wanted them to know that without you, they’d struggle to keep their best fleets in working order. You wanted that position, dammit, and you’d be damned if anything associated with Kylo Fucking Ren was going to stop you ever again.

So stubborn were you, in fact, that when the notification of the Command Shuttle’s arrival popped up on your datapad thirty minutes before shift-start, you resolved to make Sam and Minks run the post-flight check, instead. They’d have to learn eventually, anyway, if you were going to get the Chief Engineer position. You were just being helpful.

Pleased with your decision, you decided to head to your post, and rolled out of your cot, kicking around the floor for the least-worn pair of uniform pants you had. Snatching them up, you began to tug them on. One foot, then the other, jostling them to your hips--

The door to your quarters hissed open, and you yelped, clapping your arms over your exposed chest--only to be met with the impassive, motionless form of that very same Kylo Fucking Ren.

“G-get out,” you spat. Your heart was undecided between leaping in elation at the sight of him or exploding into confetti at the memory of your last conversation. Either way, you wanted him gone. “I-I don’t want to see you here.”

“There’s something I need to show you,” he said. His mask hid any hint of his intention. “Something I need to tell you.”

You swallowed. Tell you? Had he--had he realized that he loved you, too? “C-can you tell me now?”

“No,” he replied. “It requires your presence in my quarters. Dress yourself and meet me there. Immediately.”

It seemed urgent. It had to be. He had to be ready to confess. Right? You nodded. “O-okay.”

He was gone as suddenly as he’d arrived, and you were bursting at the seams. You imagined walking into his room, him sweeping you into his arms, brushing his knuckles over your cheek while he purred into your ear with husky breath:

I love you.

And yet, by the time you’d scrambled into your uniform and made your way through the halls of the Finalizer, the black jaws of doubt were crushing your ribs, teeth puncturing your lungs. You were delusional, surely. Here you were, on your way to Kylo Ren’s quarters, as if this had ever ended in a positive outcome for you before. As if he’d truly break down and reveal his real, honest feelings for you, as if he’d get dip on bended knee and swear to never, ever hurt you again. Who were you fucking kidding? Every organ in your body sank into the pit of your stomach, brain scolding you for being a complete and absolute idiot. Turning around was your best bet--there was only pain waiting for you on the other side of that hatch.

But you considered for a moment, as you stood in front of the blast door--how could he possibly hurt you any more than he already had? You’d already hit the liquid inner core of your embarrassment. There was nowhere else to go but out. And maybe you’d finally get some closure.

Then, on cue, the door opened, Kylo Ren’s hallway stretching out miles before your eyes. You held your breath, and stepped inside.

Chapter Text

You found Kylo in the room. The room with Darth Vader’s helmet. The last place you’d wanted to return. Just the thought of that relic inspired enough dread to draw a shiver--but being in its presence was another issue, entirely.

It sat in the center of the room, resting on a tiny, black table, centered in front of a wide-armed chair. It seemed reverent, almost, the arrangement, and it shot another chill to your fingertips. At least, that’s what you thought was the cause. It could have been the air in the room--so cold that you swore your breath was ice. Beyond the helmet, something even stranger, if it were possible: a second table with a shallow basin dug into the center, filled with a layer of grey, clumpy dust. Like ash.

Kylo hadn’t said a word since you’d entered his quarters, hadn’t found your eyes, hadn’t even acknowledged the sound of your feet. He loomed over the helmet, chest rising with gentle breath, hands curled to half-fists.

Being near him was enough to make your stomach flutter. And it insisted on fluttering over and over again into a wall of knives. Because it was stupid. After all--he didn’t love you.

“What is it?”

His visor drifted between the mask and the ground. Silent, he reached up, thumbed the latches and pulled his own helmet from his head. He laid it on the chair and glanced back at the melted mess behind him. Your heart thudded in your chest--stars, his profile was gorgeous--and you swallowed, wrangling any weakness back into your stomach. Not now.

“Leader Snoke has determined that you are to stay with me,” he said. “Permanently.”

Your mouth dried to sand. “Um. What?”

“This is not a discussion.” His voice was low. Dark. “You will stay here. You will serve my needs.”

“What are you talking about?” After two entire weeks of suffering, this was his idea of reconciliation? No. No, it wasn’t going to work like that. “I don’t think so.”

He faced you, brown eyes spearing you to the floor. “I’ve already informed you that there is no discussion to be had,” he said. “This is a direct command of the Supreme Leader.”

“I don’t give a fuck what you say,” you replied. “Or what the Supreme Leader says, for that matter.” You shrugged. “I’m not going to do something just because you tell me to.”

He frowned. “You don’t have a choice.”

“Okay,” you said. “Watch me.” Before you could turn and go, your muscles locked, your body suspended in animation. He’d halted you, sticking you with intangible tethers from his outstretched hand.

“No.” He advanced on you, a predator cornering his prey. “We’re not done yet.”

Growling, you fought at your invisible restraints, daggers spitting from your eyes. “What is this even about, Kylo? What do you want from me?”

Head tilting, he scanned your body, something distant glowing in the roots of his irises. Silence hung between you, heavy with the weight of unrequited, reluctant love. You hated that--that even though you’d spent hours shedding rivers over the man, you still wilted at the slightest indication of affection. That even though he’d brought you here for no other purpose but to use you, an ember of hope still breathed in the pit of your chest. Stepping toward you, he spoke.

“What do you know about the Force?”

“What?”

“The Force. What do you know.”

“Uh. Not a whole lot, I guess,” you said. “I know you fuck around with it. Use it inappropriately.”

Kylo glanced back at the helmet before stealing another step. “What do you know about that?”

That--Darth Vader? Was this a pop fucking quiz? “Uh, I don’t know. I mean, even if you do understand the intentions of the First Order and the Empire, he’s not a great guy, pretty fucking awful, really--”

“He’s my grandfather.”

Saliva and breath lodged in your throat, and you gagged, lids snapping open and jaw dropping. You dug through the canyons of your brain for a pithy response--but none came.

“W-what? He… what? Are you… Is this a joke? You’re joking?”

Not a twitch of muscle betrayed him.

You blinked, eyes cast to the floor, mind flying at lightspeed while you sought to reconcile this with your reality. Kylo Ren--the Commander of the First Order, the Jedi Killer, the man, the most beautiful and incredible enigma you’d ever encountered--this same person was the grandson of the Darth Vader? You would have shaken your head--but you were stuck--so it continued to spin, continued to assault you with questions that you didn’t want answers to. What did that mean? Why did you love him? How could you love him? In what universe did you have a future with him, anyway?

“Darth Vader is your--”

“Do you know the catalyst of his downfall?”

“Um. No.”

Stone-faced, Kylo pivoted, slow steps bringing him over to the table of ash. Under the white ceiling lamps, you saw the muscles in his back ripple, saw the tensing of his biceps--even under his robes. He meandered around the basin, staring into it and gathering a veil of dust onto a gloved finger. Then he stopped, pensive, studying his hand while he rolled the ash against his thumb, grey particles fading to motes of light.

“Sentiment.”

You swallowed again. “Uh. Okay?”

“His weakness was his compassion for his son.” His eyes burned holes into your skull. “Love.”

The words fell out of your mouth before you could stop them. “Love is a weakness. Wow.”

“Yes.”

Did he just drag you into his quarters to review the fact that he didn’t love you? None of what he was saying explained why Snoke allegedly ordered your presence--and every second you spent in his proximity was another pop to the stitches you’d been sewing into your heart. And yet, there was a part of you--a part you hated, deep and desperate--that wanted to drop to your knees and give him ownership of your body, give him everything and anything he asked for, as long as he’d have you. But you beat that part of you into a bloody submission, for now. He didn’t deserve it. Maybe he really never did.

“Okay. Can I go?”

Frowning, he moved toward you, dragging his fingers along the rim of the ash bowl. “No.”

You rolled your eyes. “What do you want, Kylo? I don’t have time for this. I told you weeks ago I was tired. I’m leaving.”

Raising a brow, he tilted his head. “No, you’re not.”

“Yeah,” you said. “Pretty sure I am.”

Kylo’s jaw tensed, and he stared at you before he turned back to the mask, circling it, light casting a bright shimmer over the thick waves of his hair. He circled it again, his forehead wrinkled in thought, robes swaying at his ankles. Then he stopped. The room seemed emptier without the muffled scuff of his boots.

“The Supreme Leader was certain my preoccupation with you was a hindrance to my training in much the same way.”

“Preoccupation,” you said. “Wow.”

“Yes, preoccupation. A distraction. A weakness. But my grandfather…” He paused. “His power was…” His lip twitched, as if he were remembering something. “It’s possible for passion to become a strength.”

You wanted to shrug, but you were still frozen. So you said nothing.

“Thoughts of you. Your body. Your voice. You…” He met your eyes, something confident inside of his gaze. “Everything is clearer. More potent.”

Anxiety was coiling into a tangled ball in your belly. What was he trying to say?

Kylo turned his attention back to the helmet. His voice was stoic. Hollow. “So I discussed it with Supreme Leader. At length.” Pausing, he blinked. “Passion is fuel for my power.” A long finger drew a line across the makeshift altar, his eyes trailing behind it. “You will be my fuel.”

With that, he released you, movement and emotion flooding back to you with equal force, chest filling with a barrel of harsh, crystal air. You cleared your throat, wiping your shaky palms on your pants, surveying your surroundings once again. He’d called you fuel. Your mouth fell into a frown, your lungs attempting to catch breath through the durasteel wall of your fear. Swallowing, you straightened your back.

“Fuel?”

“Yes.” Kylo strode toward you, a black tower, shrinking you with every step. His face was flat--but sincere. “Supreme Leader has determined it. You will stay with me. Act as my conduit.”

“Conduit.”

“Correct.” The distance closed between you in two more steps, his eyes searching your face. “The conduit to my strength.”

A pause, and a laugh, stifled by disbelief. “So I’m--I’m what? Fuel? A conduit?” Then another laugh--louder, more derisive. “Kylo. Do you… do you love me?”

His face screwed in confusion, like he hadn’t told you to leave when you’d accidentally, regrettably confessed. “That’s irrelevant.”

“What?” Your cheeks blazed, your chin quivering. “How is it fucking irrelevant?”

Kylo tilted his head again, like your question had genuinely baffled him. His brow drew low over his eyes as his gaze turned to the floor, scrutinizing the lines of tile. “Passion is a visceral, physical response. You are asking me if I retain sentiment.” He cocked a brow, fixing his stare back on yours. “I do not.”

Though you’d been expecting it, his response was no less of a sword through your chest, his words slicing any light of relief or rescue into tattered ribbons in your intestines, stealing every hint of air from the depths of your lungs. Of course he didn’t love you. What delusion had you been maintaining?

You nearly doubled over--perhaps the sword had actually been stuck through your gut--but chose to hold firm, ignoring the temptation to let another round of tears spill from your eyes. Instead, you sucked in a breath through your nose, locked your jaw, and shrugged.

“Okay then, dude,” you said, turning. “I’m going to go.”

A large hand seized your arm, pinching the flesh, and he whipped you around to face him, his eye twitching. “You cannot go.”

You growled, trying to jerk away, flames spreading down your neck. “The fuck do you mean, I can’t go? I can do whatever the fuck I want, asshole.”

“Your purpose has already been decided.”

“Fuck you,” you sneered, yanking back, but to no avail. “I don’t have a fucking purpose! Now let me go!”

He scowled, squeezing you tighter, tugging you toward him as he hissed your name. “This is what you wanted.”

“What I wanted?” You scoffed, rolling your eyes again. “To be fuel? A conduit? No.” Glaring, anger and pain coalesced to a black, sticky ooze in your heart. “I’m still nothing but a fucking object to you, Kylo. And that’s all I’ll ever be.” A long, solemn breath left your lungs. “Now let. Me. Go.”

His fingers burrowed into your muscles. “No.”

Your struggle evolved in a full-on flail, your limbs flying in the air as you tried to throw yourself into the wall just to loosen his grip. But every inch of progress you achieved seemed like a voluntary concession on his part, all the while perspiration built under your arms and your muscles ached from exertion. He was an anchor, cementing you in your place, hand like a cuff around your arm. Wild, almost spitting, you caught his gaze, teeth bared in a challenge--but he was impassive, like he was waiting for you to expend what little energy you had. And you knew he could outlast you, too. There was no contest there.

“How long do you intend on doing this?” he asked.

Panting, you stilled, free hand pushing away the sweaty tendrils of hair that had stuck to your forehead. “Tell me you love me.”

Kylo was silent, chest falling in a soft exhale, eyes sweeping your body. He blinked, and his fingers released your arm, peeling from your flesh one by one. His hand floated back to his side, face empty. Blank.

“No.”

Rage flashed over you--so bright and so hot that it made your hand crack his cheek, leaving your own skin stinging. Your shoulders rose with shocked breath, wide eyes piercing his, your lips furled in a snarl. He didn’t respond, his face still inscrutable, the only indicator of his anger the spasm of muscle under his nose. But that wasn’t enough. You needed a reaction. A real one.

“Don’t be mad.” You smirked. “I know you like that shit.”

Leather scrunched in the dead air when his fists tightened, his eyes narrowing while he inched his foot toward you.

“If I’m not mistaken,” he said, “so do you.”

Heat wiggled into your belly, born of mischief, spite, and arousal--the very same culprits responsible for the words that left your mouth.

“I fucking dare you.”

Before you even saw his hand, pain ripped through you, starting at your cheek and echoing across your face, your head wobbling while you fought to recover from the intensity of his slap. When you regained focus, the room merging back into one, solid image, you grinned, wiping the dribble of drool from your chin. Kylo’s eyes were red with lust and wrath--and against your better judgement, a pulse of longing resonated between your thighs.

“Asshole!” You wound back, aiming for his other cheek, but a large, leather hand snatched your wrist mid-air--and you grunted. “Fucker!” You tried again, swinging your other arm, but he was too quick, gripping you in a vice, crushing your joints as he wrenched you to his body--warm and firm and strong.

At first, you thought the swelling at your breast was you, breathing too hard and too fast. But then you saw his chest huffing, and looked up to see his nostrils flaring, his pupils swallowing his irises--and before you could spit for him to let you go, Kylo twisted your arms behind your back, scorching your lips with a hot, furious kiss.

He’d thrust you into the fire, and your body crackled to life, skin sparking with golden cinders while your muscles and nerves drank in his desire. His tongue was aggressive, fighting its way past the rim of your mouth, and you snapped your head away, cutting his lower lip between your teeth, biting until you heard him hiss in pain, his hips jerking into yours. Growling, he gathered your wrists in one of his large hands, his other hand winding in your hair and tearing it back to expose your throat.

“You will obey me,” he growled, and smothered your skin with his mouth.

You whimpered and squirmed while he nipped at your neck, teeth raising rows of flesh as he dragged them down your heartbeat. He grunted, latching onto you and sucking broken capillaries to existence, littering you with his possession. His hips rocked into you, the bulge between his legs becoming more noticeable with every passing second, sending tiny bolts of lightning up your thighs. Another grunt, and he moved to the other side of your neck, hungry to consume any inch of your skin his eyes could catch.

“You will stay,” he murmured, words almost lost between his busy lips.

You swallowed, feeling the knot in your throat bob against his mouth. “Fuck you.”

“Still so stubborn.” Kylo kissed his way up your neck, nibbling at your lobe, his voice rumbling in your ear. “But I know what you like, slut.”

A shiver crested over you, and you suppressed the traitorous moan in your chest. “Fuck. You.”

He snickered. “If you insist.”

His hands released you, but before you could shove him off, he’d captured your lips with his, drawing a breath through his nose while he ripped open your shirt. When the buttons clattered to the floor, you gasped, prying away from him.

“Jackass! Now what will I wear?”

“Don’t care,” he replied, kissing his way back to your mouth. “Want to keep you here.”

Grumbling, you dodged his lips, writhing as you drove the heels of your palms into his shoulders. You grimaced, trying to summon adrenaline to your aid, but you were fruitless, your movement only succeeding in making it easier for him to tear the last of your top. Your torso now revealed, leather hands sought to grapple with every bit of bare skin, printing goosebumps into your flesh while his tongue wet a line to your clavicle.

“Ugh!” You grasped two fistfuls of his hair, tugging at his scalp, eliciting a stifled moan from his throat. “Get the fuck off!”

To your surprise, he listened to you, and pulled back with a wet smack. His fingers drilled into your sides, his eyes fixated on yours, and his ribs expanded with needy breath. He was watching you, waiting for your next move, cheeks tinged pink. Your desperation for him sunk like claws into your heart, choking you with its heat, urging you to submit, to strip yourself of your dignity, to leech whatever affection you could from his lips. But he’d said it again. He didn’t love you.

“Fuck you!” you said, striking him across the face. “Fuck you, fuck you, fuck you!” Every curse was accompanied by a blow to the cheek--blows that didn’t seem to faze him, but left his skin redder, and his breath faster. Your palm prickled from your efforts, and you bit your tongue. One last slap. “Fuck you!”

Pain needling your hand, you stopped, strained air panting through your parted mouth. Kylo was still silent, his jaw tense, hands shaking as he crushed your sides. You didn’t love him. You hated him. Hated his stupid, beautiful face, his well-muscled frame, his pretty lips and amber eyes. You hated his strength, his warmth, the soothing roll of his voice, the solid safety of his body. You hated that he made you smile, that he made you weak, that he infiltrated your brain and overrode every sensible inclination you had. Most of all, you hated that he’d left you like this--shattered, seething, and so, so alone.

You couldn’t play this game anymore--you felt it in the bed of your soul. Yet the longing for him was undeniable. If you were going to do this, you figured, you might as well make it on your terms. Even if it did make things more difficult.

“Fuck you,” you said, and pulled his lips to yours.

Both of you raked over the other’s scalp with fervent fingers, his hands nearly enveloping your face, returning your passion. You groaned, fisting his hair, your teeth scraping and clacking, seeking to devour each other. Tongues wrestled like snakes, his mouth hot and wet and moaning into you as your bodies moved in unison--he was walking you back, back, your mind too intoxicated to count the steps, until your butt hit the rim of something hard and cold.

Before you could see what it was, he grabbed your thighs and hoisted you onto the edge. His hands found your hair again, tightening around two handfuls before jerking your head back, his hips pushing open your thighs as he wedged his way between your legs. Groaning, you entwined your calves around the backs of his knees, and he huffed.

“I’m going to make you cum so many times that your filthy mouth won’t be able to say anything but my name.”

You sneered. “I’d love to see you try.”

Kylo leaned over, purring his baritone into your ear. “Keep taunting me and I’ll make it hurt.”

“Go ahead,” you said. “Do it.”

He growled, unhooking your feet from his legs, and he clutched your hips, flipping you over and pushing you down, smashing you face-first into the ash pile. So that’s where you’d been sitting. Dust clogged your lungs when you inhaled, and you panicked, trying to scramble off. But Kylo held you still with a hand pressed to your back, his other hand working your hips into the air. You tried to push off again, but he was too strong--so you sneezed, spurting a cloud of ash out across the table.

This was awful. Disgusting. But then you felt him grind his concealed cock against you, felt his hand caress the curve of your ass, following it with a sharp spank, making you yelp, jolting forward as pain rang out over your skin. And you clenched.

“Naughty little thing.” His fingers crooked into the hem of your pants and panties, rolling them over your hips, unraveling the seams with sheer strength while he worked them to the middle of your thighs. Before you had a chance to brace yourself, he spanked you once more, your flesh quaking from his power as you whimpered. “Look how wet you are...”

You scoffed. “No thanks to you.”

Kylo whacked you across your backside, and you cried out, struggling under the hand pinning you to the ash. “Make sure to keep count.”

With no other warning, he plunged two fingers into your core, leather slipping over your juices with ease. You groaned, clenching around him instinctively, canting your hips while he curled and scissored his digits inside of you, the ridges of his gloves making you shudder.

“There we go,” he said. “Much better.”

He leaned his weight into you and moved his thumb over your nub, assaulting it with short, rough strokes. Whining, your thighs shook with the sudden pleasure, your resistance bending as he rubbed your clit faster. Kylo was too skilled, he knew you too well--your body spasming with an impending climax that was coming too fast, too soon.

You wanted to stop it, to hold off the tidal wave bearing down on you, but it was inevitable and quick, like a shot to the gut. He grunted, working a third digit into your cunt, rolling his wrist, dragging you over the edge--and you wailed, hips bucking and walls pulsing as you came around his fingers.

“That’s right,” he purred, thumb still rubbing you into the aftershocks. “Good girl.”

Gasping, you swallowed, noting the drool that had pooled into the ash. “Fuck,” you groaned. Though this was what you’d been expecting, it made the shame of giving in no less acute. “Asshole.”

A leather glove stung your ass. “Watch.” A second spank, and you clenched, feeling your juices drip between your thighs. “Your.” He struck the other cheek. “Mouth.”

Despite nearly being able to feel the welts forming, you smirked. “I know you can do better than that, Commander.”

There was a pause. “Dirty thing wants to be wrecked, hm?”

You heard the click of his saber being unlatched from his belt, followed by the cold prodding of the pommel at your aching entrance, dread and excitement racing through you in equal measure. Silent, he started rock the hilt into you, and your breath hitched, pussy clenching against the foreign intrusion. His other hand bunched your shirt as he threw his mass into the saber, the hilt splitting you open with its pointed ends, pushing a shriek from your lungs. You whinged, recoiling from the weapon, but he held you fast, and kept it halfway-seated inside of your cunt.

“Stay still,” he said. Before you could ask what he meant, you heard him step to the side and click something--and the blade screeched to life, the crossguards almost singeing your thighs.

“What the fuck!”

Under your immediate terror, you remembered the distant vibrations of the hilt, how they’d deliciously forced you into a climax so many months ago--but inside of your pussy, the feeling was multiplied ten-fold. The lightsaber stretched you open, pulsating at the sweet spot along your walls, making you tremble and ache and wheeze into the dust. You moaned, wiggling your hips, seeking more, but he snarled, crushing your back in reprimand.

“I told you to stay still,” he said. “Or are you so desperate you’d amputate your own limbs just to cum for me?”

“I’m not cumming for you.” The shards in the ash were numbing your cheek.

He chuckled. “I’m not so certain about that.”

As the lightsaber sent tremors through your walls, drawing out early pre-climax clenches around the hilt, his fingers, slick with your cum, reached under your belly and started working your still-sensitive clit. Whimpering, you went to inch away from him, but remembered the live weapon sticking out of you, and thought the better of it. So you surrendered to his mercy, more spit dribbling into the ash, sticking it to your face in ugly lumps while he traced tight circles into the bundle of nerves. Between the graze of slippery leather and the incessant buzzing inside of your cunt, you were being catapulted into another fast, powerful climax, bliss coursing through your blood while you balanced on the edge.

“I hate you, Kylo,” you moaned. “I fucking hate you--fuck!”

He sent you flying, your body convulsing painfully around the sharp ridges of his saber as you came, the delectable buzz of the hilt only pulling your climax longer, harder, moans resonating in your ribcage. Leather fingers saw you through into uncomfortable sensitivity, and you winced, mewling until he stopped. The saber died behind you, leaving cool air and the smell of burning plasma in its wake.

Two orgasms in, and you were already beginning to feel the ache of overstimulation--but Kylo seemed possessed, saying nothing as he landed another quick slap to your ass. Your backside was so sore that it felt red, but you weren’t going to complain. Even while you shouted at yourself, thoughts hollering about your stupidity, your weakness, you didn’t care. You wanted him now, just now, wanted all of him that he could give. Because you’d decided. This would be the last time.

“You’re so filthy.” He massaged the burning outline of his hand. “You love this. Don’t you?” Grunting, he smacked your thigh. “Answer me.”

Straining under the hand at your back, you shrugged the best you could. “I’ve had better.”

The growl that left his chest reverberated in your skull, and he grabbed you once more, flipping you around with the saber still inside of you. You hissed, heart pounding at your sternum as you gazed at him, the border of the basin supporting your hips and neck, cool and smooth against your skin. Kylo hovered over you like a hunter, glaring spikes into your chest while he gripped the table. Like he was twirling a top, he spun you until your face was inches from his arousal--something that you were shocked he hadn’t attended to, yet.

“I was waiting.” His hands busied themselves with his pants. “I can’t stand to hear another word out of your mouth.”

As he released his cock, you hid your grin, cheeks already salivating at the thought of swallowing its length. It was so thick, already red and leaking precum over the head. You were more than happy to make your memory of it last. The sore jaw would be worth it.

“I’m not sucking that.”

Kylo’s hand gripped your neck, and you gagged, the pressure cutting into your windpipe and popping open your jaw. “Yes,” he said. “You are.”

His other hand fell to hold onto your hair while he guided his dick past your lips, the angle allowing him a long, deep stroke into your mouth. He didn’t bother to listen to your choking or heaving, completely rapt by the wet heat of your throat, groaning before he’d even sunk to the root. Pushing further, he released a moan when your neck bulged under his hand with the invasion of his cock.

“There’s my good little whore.” His voice was already weighed down with the intensity of pleasure. “Fuck… you look perfect like this.”

With a snap of his hips, your nose met his balls, giving you no choice but to inhale his natural musk, nearly suffocating from the heat of his body. You gurgled against his dick, but it only caused him to press harder into your neck, his other hand adjusting your head back as he started fucking into your throat.

Every thrust brought a noise from your mouth, and every noise he ignored, fingers already scraping your skin as bliss overwhelmed his senses. Spit spilled down your cheeks and onto the floor, his cock silencing any moans that tried to escape. You swallowed around him, evoking a hiss of ecstasy through his teeth.

“Fuck...” He fumbled with your bra, pulling out your breast, massive leather palms kneading over the flesh, brushing your stiff nipples. “Wonder what you sound like if I--shit--if I make you cum while you choke on my cock.”

The musing was followed by the Force swirling around your engorged clit, and you squealed, bucking your hips into the air as you tried to stave off the embodiment of his will. Of course, it did nothing, only caused him to flick your nub faster, all while you groaned and drooled around the quickening thrusts of his dick.

Kylo pinched one of your nipples, driving over and over into your throat. “That’s it,” he grumbled, breath shallow and fast. “Suck it. Fuck--suck it, slut.”

Your body was throbbing, fighting off its third orgasm, tears stinging your eyes while he drove you further and further up the slope, your wails of protest drowned by the feral fucking of your throat. His grip was almost deadly--air barely creeping into your lungs, darkness clouding the edges of your sight, your face beginning to tingle from the deprivation of oxygen. But he was determined, unwilling to stop, needing to hear you break around his dick.

“Remember what I told you.” He buried his cock in your mouth, letting the hot cavern of your throat envelop him as he jerked his hips into you. “Cum, whore.”

Body obedient out of habit, you snapped, pleasure storming through your raw, naked nerves, stripping them of any shields they had left, legs twitching and lids sealing shut while you screamed onto his dick. He cursed in satisfaction, his hands squeezing your neck and breast while he held off his own peak, fucking into you until you began to struggle for breath, your lips and jaw going numb. Finally, he pulled out with a sickening squelch, globs of spit falling onto your face, and you coughed, sucking down air as the remnants of your climax coasted through you.

It was only after he pulled away that you realized how hot you’d been with your face stuffed between his legs. Sweat was soaking into your hair and coating your chest, and you reached to wipe it from your eyes, brain still seeking breath as you sputtered. You weren’t sure how much more you could take.

Kylo huffed, giving your cheek a light slap. “Why do you bother resisting? Look what I do to you.” Grabbing your chin, he angled you to meet his gaze upside down. “It’s so much easier if you just submit.”

“Because it doesn’t matter.” You stared into his eyes, unafraid. “After this, I’m done with you. Forever.”

There was silence--a shadow fell over his face, a flash of that something in his irises, covered quickly by true, mortal terror, the realization of your resolution. And then this, too, was concealed, consumed by bright, boiling rage that bubbled over into his pupils. His hand stuck to your jaw, his fingers digging into your flesh, grip growing painful, until he had wormed his way into the muscle. You grimaced.

“Done.” The word was spat between his teeth. “No. You’re not.”

“I am,” you said. “And there’s nothing you can do to change my mind.”

“We’ll see about that.”

His hands clutched the table again, biceps flexing as he spun you until he stood in front of your knees, eyes darting between your face and the lightsaber still lodged in your pussy. Frowning, he gripped it and tore it out, pain shredding up your back. You howled, grasping onto the edges of the basin for stability. But he was still silent, pulling off your shoes and then tugging the remains of your pants over your ankles, leaving you bare from the waist down. Jerking you forward, he dragged your ass onto the edge of the basin, your legs dangling to the floor, spread open and dripping under his scrutiny.

Primal eyes lingered on your sex for only seconds before he crouched between your legs, sucking your folds into his warm, pink mouth. You whined, twisting away, but his arms locked your thighs in place, tongue slurping and gathering your juices. Kylo groaned into your cunt, long nose brushing over your clit while he swallowed your cum, and you squeaked, pelvis lurching into his face. You couldn’t handle a fourth orgasm. Not so soon.

“Yes, you can,” he murmured into your folds, and sealed his lips around your abused nub.

“Fuck!”

You whined, trying to kick him away, but he was too strong, holding you still while he batted your clit with the tip of his tongue, sucking it swollen--even more so than it’d been before. He moaned, sloppy, wet noises leaving his throat as he held your gaze, watching your reluctant orgasm rise from the twitches in your face. Your whimpers made him wilder, and he purred, nuzzling his nose into your pussy, lavishing your folds with his tongue. This. Yes. You’d miss this, too.

“Kylo,” you moaned, “oh, Kylo--”

Relentless, intent on proving you wrong, he pulled you closer, his lips warm and soft and hauling you straight into a painful, bone-breaking climax that slammed you sideways, wracking your body with waves of crippling pleasure. You tossed your head back over the basin, a scream cracking your vocal cords as white heat grated what little was left of your nervous system, blanking out your brain.

Four orgasms had left you shaking, sweating, your fingers and thighs quivering from exhaustion. You could feel the obscene amount of cum dripping from your core, could feel the sweat gluing more ashes to your back and arms, could feel the warm, aching throb of a body that’d been combed for every last ounce of pleasure left inside of it.

But when your head lolled, your eyes fluttering to life, you saw Kylo, towering above you again, pushing your legs open further while he grabbed your waist, the tip of his dick prodding at your still-pulsing entrance. He was crazed, eyes wide with need--and before you could say a word, he slammed into you, growling as he struck your cervix with his first thrust.

“Gods!” Your eyes rolled straight back into your head, clenching around him when he started fucking into you.

Perhaps it’d been the four-orgasms worth of denial, perhaps it’d been your taunting, or perhaps it’d just been the passage of time--but Kylo pounded you, teeth bared, watching your body shake from the force of his hips, using you like a hole for his cock. His fingers made indents at your waist, his palms bruising while he held you in place, his breath quick, short and growling as he pummelled your tight, wet pussy.

Through his manic thrusting, he met your eyes, and he lifted your hips to better hammer into you, a smirk curling on his lips while you moaned, back arching toward the ceiling. You’d miss this. Stars, you’d miss this.

“No one will ever fuck this cunt like I can,” he hissed. “You’ll never be done with me, slut.” Simmering from his own words, he sneered, bending over you and securing your legs around his waist. “You will stay here. You will obey me. You will be the key to my strength.”

Now you were a key? He was making your decision easier by the second. “I don’t know, dude,” you choked out through your hiccuping breath. “Pretty sure Sam fucked me harder than this.”

Just the mention of that name was enough to make Kylo taste blood--but that was too much. With a strangled roar, he pounced, clutching your neck, pinching your artery with his thumb, his other hand shoving your face into the dry ash. His thrusts turned savage, like he wanted to sever your spine, wanted to cleave you in two with his cock.

Pain and bliss surged through you, and it was incredible--even as you drooled down your chin and breathed in the ash, even as you felt your consciousness slipping away against his hand. This would last for weeks, you were sure--the pain, the bruises, the full-body ache--every reminder he left on your flesh would be his inadvertent parting gift to you.

“This what you like? Hm?” His breath buffeted your ear, his thumb lifting to allow you a brief reprieve, only to restrict you once more. Then, stroking at your sore clit--the Force, making you clench and writhe underneath his massive frame. “Who can fuck you like this? Tell me.” His teeth cut into your shoulder, deep enough that you’d sworn he’d drawn blood. “Tell me, whore.”

“N-no one, sir!” you cried out, your reply automatic and unbidden.

“That’s right.” He turned your face to the side. “Open.”

You did--and he spit into your mouth. Whimpering, you swallowed, and he forced your face back into the ash. It caked onto your cheeks and lips and chin and jaw, clinging in layers to your saliva-and-tear-stained skin, sensitive and red from the pressure of his hand.

The Force picked up its pace, and you moaned. Cumming was inescapable now, and in your drunken orgasmic daze, you couldn’t recall which number this one was. All you knew is you wanted to cum, wanted to remember how it felt to clamp and milk his dick until he spilled his seed inside of you. So you let go--tears welling in your eyes as you admitted this was the final time, the last time you’d have him filling you whole, the last time you’d hear your name whispered over his lips, the last time you’d be able feel his skin, hot like coal and smooth like diamond, on yours--and you submitted.

“Please, Commander!” Your words trembled with your stifled sobs, ragged against his hand. “Please, please, let me cum!”

Kylo snickered, licking at the wound on your shoulder. “Go on,” he hummed. “Cum for me, filthy little slut.”

And you did. Your final orgasm--five, you remembered, as it blinded you--razed your skin to the bone, coursing through you like a firestorm following a sea of petrol. Every inch of your flesh erupted with euphoria, your body seizing with contractions, your pussy cumming hard around his long, thick cock. Your head was ringing too loud to hear Kylo’s climax, to your honest dismay--you only felt it. Felt the violent fucking into your cervix, felt the pitching, stuttering of his hips, felt him silence himself in your neck while he poured jets of cum into your cunt, felt him throbbing at the hilt as he stopped, his hand falling away from your neck.

When you’d returned to reality, panting for breath, he’d slipped out of you, fingers gathering the cum seeping from your core. Examining your face, he scowled, and wiped his seed over your cheek, smearing it into the damp ash. You winced, turning away, but it only streaked the cum further, and he sneered, popping the fingers into your mouth.

Groaning, you tried to spit it out--the ash was dry, bitter, and mixed with his viscous cum, made you retch--but he was persistent, reaching the back of your throat and holding there until you’d started to suck the leather clean. He watched you, the lust dying in his eyes, replaced with that something--and he seemed to catch himself, smirking and swirling his fingers along your tongue. When you’d finished, you whimpered, meeting his gaze with tired eyes, and finally, finally, he released you, retreating, tucking his softening dick back into his pants.

The silence between you was a curtain, descending in the absence of affection. He was motionless, waiting for you to move, waiting to hear the admission of your submission from your mouth. But you were just as stubborn, and filled your chest with a deep breath before rolling off of the ash table, nearly stumbling to the floor. With shaking hands, you caught yourself on the edge and steadied your wobbling knees. You needed your clothes.

And as you gathered them, he still said nothing, stone eyes following you around the room while you pulled on your bottoms and replaced your shoes. You swallowed, halting the wad of tears waiting to pour forth. This was for the best. He didn’t love you. And you deserved to be loved. Just like Minks had said. You deserved to be loved.

“Where are you going?” He must have caught one of those.

“I’m leaving, Kylo,” you said, lip trembling as you tried your best to clean your body of ash. Every word was a razor on your tongue. “This is--this is goodbye.”

His eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Don’t come to my room.” You pulled your shirt closed and crossed your arms, avoiding his gaze. If you looked, you’d rescind it all. Take every word back. “Don’t interrupt my work. Don’t call my name. Don’t talk to me. Don’t look at me. Don’t even fucking think about me.”

Kylo was wooden, unmoving. He blinked. His voice was soft. “What?”

You rolled your eyes. “You heard me, dude. We’re done. Over. Forever.” Your voice was fracturing from the tension. “Don’t follow me. Don’t stop me. Just leave me alone. I don’t want to see you again, and you won’t change my mind. Okay?”

His eyes fell to the floor, searching the tile, his brow furrowed. Still confused, lost in thought. For the shortest of seconds, you pitied him. He was truly clueless.

“You know what I want.” You paced over to the door, heart thrumming in your throat, face pink and hot. “And you can’t give it to me.” Tears spilled over your cheeks, burning you like it was someone else’s skin. “Goodbye, Kylo.”

And before he could protest, the door was closed, and you were gone.

Chapter Text

New uniform, fresh shower, cover-up on the lingering bruises, almost faded after a week and a half. Confidence was your costume, and you were going to wear it without a snag. Straightening your back in the mirror, you smoothed over your hair and puffed out your chest. You looked determined. And you were. After all, today was the day.

The day you’d be made Chief Engineer.

Your shoulders slumped. Not that you knew that for certain. For all you knew, Hux could have summoned you to send you off like he’d always intended. But you hoped--against reality, maybe--that you were right. Shaking off your doubt and blowing it through your nose, you left your quarters, headed straight for the bridge. The only problem was who you might see there.

Yet since the Command Shuttle’s return almost two days ago, you hadn’t seen a wisp of who you were now calling your former lover. You tried not to think his name. You tried not to think about him at all. You didn’t want him to know--or hear--how often you still ached for him, how often you dreamed of his face when you slept. You didn’t want him to know how your hands would skim your skin in the middle of the sleep cycle, how they’d dip between your legs in remembrance of him, right before you’d strap them to the cot in defiance. He dominated your brain just as he’d dominated your body--and you hated it.

When you arrived at the bridge, your first instinct was to scan the area, prepared to double-back if he was there. But he wasn’t--and the wave of relief brought along a shadow of disappointment and anguish. You hated that, too. More than anything, you should be happy that he was avoiding you. That he hadn’t so much as made an effort to interrupt your day. Instead, your heart was reluctantly wilting, clamoring for just a glimpse of his body to rejuvenate its blood.

“Your purpose?”

Your bones launched from your skin, hand clutching your chest. “Shit!” It was just a Stormtrooper. Blushing, you cleared your throat. “Uh, sorry. Yes. General Hux requested me?”

Silent, the Stormtrooper nodded, leading you to the closed hatch of Hux’s office. Part of you was surprised--normally, Hux would have been waiting for your arrival, all too eager to get you in and out of his life as quickly as possible. Today was different. But was that a good or a bad thing? Maybe--

The hatch flew open, Hux’s dull, severe face greeting you behind his desk. “You’re early.”

Blinking, your head swiveled in search of a chronometer. “But--I was told--”

“No matter.” He beckoned you forward with a wave of his hand. “Don’t just stand there.”

“Uh, right. I mean--yes, sir.” You winced. Good. It was already going perfectly.

Hux sighed, swiping a finger across his datapad before turning his attention back to you. “At this point,” he said, “I’m not sure who I consider a bigger nuisance--you, or Ren.”

Your stomach sank into your knees. “My apologies, sir, I--”

“I’m not done. Since my first meeting with you, I’ve wanted nothing more than to find an excuse to make you someone else’s problem.”

Oh, shit. Swallowing, you stared at your feet. He’d finally found the opportunity to make good on that desire.

“Between your attitude, your disrespect for authority, your… whatever it is… with Ren--”

“Well, General, actually--”

“I’m not done. Between those issues, you’ve been nothing but a buzzing pest. Not important enough to take time out of my day to swat… but always there, always irritating me at the most inconvenient of times.”

You swallowed again, nodding. What were you supposed to say? Perhaps you needed to leave now and start packing. Perhaps he’d give you at least 24 hours to say goodbye to everyone--

“Unfortunately,” Hux said, “your proficiency has always made it far more efficient for me to keep you here rather than bother with assigning and training a separate engineer.” He paused. “As reluctant as I am to admit it.”

“Oh.” Blood rushed your face. Your fingers were trembling. “Uh. Yes, sir.”

“You’ve managed to act as an asset, despite your handicaps.”

Clearing your throat, you suppressed a frown. What handicaps? Was he talking about your issues with your supervisors? Really, it wasn’t like you--

“Therefore, starting tomorrow, you’ll be acting as Chief Engineer.” His face couldn’t look any less enthusiastic. “Any questions?”

Hux seemed to you like a figment of your imagination--something you could reach out and wipe away, or something that, if the right light was cast upon it, would ripple back to a blank canvas. Certainly not the real General of the First Order informing you--imperfect, inferior you--that you were the Chief Engineer of the elite fleet hangar on the Finalizer. Your heart throbbed in your temples, a smile cracking its way across your face. Of course, you’d hoped and suspected, but to actually hear the words--to watch Hux’s mouth form them as they entered your ears--that made it real.

“N-no, sir!” You squeezed your hands together behind your back to curb their shaking. “T-thank you. Thank you. So, s-so much.”

He raised an eyebrow, gaze returning to his datapad. “Dismissed.”

Nodding, you spun on your heel, scampering out of the door into the bridge. Smothering a squeal, you covered your face with your hands. This was real--it was really happening. You were really going to be Chief Engineer. You wanted to stamp your feet, scream in celebration, fly back to the academy and rub it in your peers’ faces, but you needed to exude some professionalism. So instead, head held to the ceiling, you skipped through the bridge, tingling with excitement while you imagined greeting your new employees.

As you exited the bridge, you shut your lids and sucked in a chestful of air, mind dancing with joy. Chief Engineer. Chief Engineer. Chief Engineer. You’d never have to work with the Command Shuttle or interact with him again. Your life could go back to normal. Finally, finally--

You connected with something firm and wide, and you yelped, leaping back and spilling words of apology from your mouth as you opened your eyes. When your gaze met the soulless, vacant visor, the framework of happiness you’d built came tumbling to the ground, collapsing in a messy, splintered heap, your face glowing like a red lamp.

Of course you’d bump into him, of all people, right as you were starting to feel like your life hadn’t ended. You cursed yourself, despising that your first desire was not to run, but to grab him and tell him what had happened. Chief Engineer, you wanted to say, Hux finally made me Chief Engineer. Remember when you’d said I was a better engineer than Sam? You were right, you were right all along--

“Yes,” he said, “I was.”

He said not another word, pushing past you onto the bridge, leaving you stunned--a statue, sculpted from the floor. You heard his boots fade into the din of the crowd, and you gulped, lips taut over your teeth while you scrambled down the halls, pulse pounding through your brain.

When you arrived at the docking bay, your skin was still hot, pieces of your heart clinging together by threads. How was it that such a simple interaction was enough to capsize your day? Would you really let him ruin your moment? No. Wringing your sweaty palms, you sought out Sam and Minks, finding them by the main terminal, giggling to each other. You strangled your jealousy and tossed it behind you.

“Hey!” you said. “What’s this? I don’t think I ever allowed fun on the floor!”

Sam met your eyes, smirking. “You don’t think you ever allowed--” His gaze widened, his jaw dropping. “Wait. Are you serious?”

You grinned, shrugging. “May-be.”

“Oh. My. Stars!” Minks hopped in place, fists balling at her chest. “Are you our new boss? Are you the Chief Engineer?”

Unable to cork your joy, you nodded, teeth gleaming in a massive smile. “Yes! Yes! I am!”

Minks squealed, launching herself onto you and curling around you like a weed. But you couldn’t act like you minded. By herself, she’d managed to right your mood. You hugged her back, releasing a sigh as she pulled away, looking between her and Sam with an unbreakable grin.

“Can’t lie and say I’m not nervous, though.”

“You’ll be fine,” Sam said. “What do you have to be nervous about?”

“I don’t know,” you replied. “The reporting. The management aspects. And stuff.” Sure, you knew ships, but you didn’t know much about supervising. You didn’t want to be another Dash Damarcus. Well--you didn’t want to be him for multiple reasons.

Sam shook his head, waving you off. “You don’t even need to worry. Just report to the Lieutenant at the end of every day, to Hux at the end of every week, and you’ll learn the rest along the way.”

You nodded. “Right, yeah… I guess you’re right.”

“This does leave one question, though,” he said, looking at Minks. “Who gets the Command Shuttle?”

The thought alone was enough to send your heart rate into space, and you frowned, crossing your arms. Surely, Sam couldn’t be worried that Minks would end up in the same position you’d been in. Like you were that disposable. Or maybe it was just concern that two out of his two girlfriends would end up in the Commander’s bed. You shook your head. Stop.

“It’s about time the Command Shuttle go to its rightful engineer,” you said, winking at Sam. “No fake shootout to save you this time. The Commander is your problem, now.”

He shot you a wry smile. “Ha-ha, very funny,” he said. “Who knows, though. Now that you’re Chief, you’ll probably be dealing with him more often than I will.”

Air left your lungs, and you choked. “W-what?”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Uh. Yeah, man. I mean, I don’t know, I might be misremembering, but I’d see him at least once a week if he was on-base. But maybe it’ll be different with you.”

You swallowed the anxiety wadding in your throat, nodding. “Y-yeah. Right.”

“And,” he said, “you’ll have to train me on that thing, anyways.”

No. “R-right.” The bay stretched out in front of your feet. You still wouldn’t be rid of him. What if the pain would never end?

“Hey.” Minks stepped forward, wagging her hand in front of your face. “You okay? What’s the problem? You look a little green…”

The problem was the fact that you’d wanted the Chief Engineer position since you’d been stationed at Starkiller, and now that you had it, your former lover seemed intent on stealing that from you, as well. Why was it a surprise? It was something you should have been expecting. You didn’t want him to ruin this for you--but the thought of seeing him so frequently drove a spike through your chest.

“It’s just…” Your chin quivered. “I’m…”

“What?” Minks said. “What is it?”

“It’s not fair.” The words left you in a whisper. “He gets to go on, doing whatever he wants, living however he wants. And meanwhile, here I am, wondering if I even want to do this. All because I’ll have to see him.”

She gasped. “What! No! Don’t you dare think like that. He doesn’t get to determine how your life goes, okay? You do.”

You shook your head. “I just don’t know, dude. I’ve wanted to be Chief Engineer forever. And now I’m wondering if it’s even worth it.”

“Of course it is.” Sam was the one person out of anyone who’d known how badly you wanted this. “You don’t need to worry. We’ll be here to support you. All right?”

Grimacing, you buried your face in your hands. “Ugh! I don’t get what I did to deserve friends like you guys!” You raked your nails over your face. “I’m a fucking jackass!”

Minks patted your back. “Because you’re a good person,” she said. “And besides--you’re our jackass.”

Even with the support of Sam and Minks--post-work meals, pre-work pep-talks--you were struggling with your job. It wasn’t because of him, either--you hadn’t seen him since the run-in on the bridge. It was because of the work. Chief Engineer was nothing like you’d expected it to be, and now you weren’t sure what you’d been expecting to begin with. With people working under you, there were no complex issues to be investigated, no emergencies you’d ever had to attend to--no, it was your job to balance the budget. To manage the assignments. To follow-up on uncompleted task lists and unfinished reports.

It was boring. It was empty. And you hated it.

What made it worse were your new superiors. Reporting to the Lieutenant daily wasn’t too awful. But you’d had to brave one weekly meeting with Hux, so far--and he’d ripped you down to the studs. You’d spent the entire following week reviewing your mistakes with Sam, and you were hoping to redeem yourself in the General’s eyes. For some reason. Part of you was resenting the fact you were even worried about his opinion. But you didn’t want to just outright fail your promotion.

You arrived at his office after the end of shift, tapping your toe while you waited for him to allow you entry. When door hissed open, he ordered you in by your name. At least that was one thing he’d conceded on.

Steeling your limbs, you stepped over the threshold, meeting his gaze with a newfound conviction. Sam had told you everything you needed to do.

“General,” you began, holding up your datapad as reference, “this week we completed--”

“Is that how you plan on entering every week?” Hux wasn’t even looking at you.

You blinked, frowning. Okay. “This week we completed--”

“What’s the progress on sector dee?”

“I’m getting to that, sir, if you’ll just let me--”

“Your insolence does you no favors.”

“--finish, I’ll be happy to update you on all of the--”

“I thought I told you to draft a report on sector dee.”

“--sectors, but first, I really want to review--”

“Officer.”

Your cheeks burned, your first gripping your pad so tight that you were afraid it would crack. “Yes. Sir.”

Hux’s eyes locked on yours. “The sector. Did you remember to review it as I’d asked?”

Words wouldn’t come. You’d been too busy going over basic procedure with Sam. “Um…”

“I was under the impression that you’d be able to follow the simplest of my requests and provide me with basic information--but it seems from your presentation today, you aren’t even able to do that. Do you lack discipline, or were you distracted by another one of your affairs?”

The core of your body scorched your flesh. Your fingers twitched while you imagined reaching over the desk and twisting his weaselly neck. You’d done exactly like Sam had told you to do--step in, start with the report right away.

“I expect an answer when I ask you a question, officer.”

Jaw set, you swallowed. If you opened your mouth, nothing good would come out of it.

“Hm.” Hux leaned back in his chair, brow cocked. “Perhaps the position isn’t a good fit.” The smile on his face was cruel. “Perhaps you’d be better suited somewhere else.”

“Perhaps I would!” you replied, before you could plug your lips.

But after the words had left your mouth, you found yourself unable to disagree with them. There was nothing left for you on the Finalizer--except for Sam and Minks. At least, when you’d been second engineer, you’d been happy. Now, you hated your job, you hated your superiors, and you hated the memories that embroidered every hour of your day. No matter where you were, or what you were doing, something reminded you of him. Something was there, making you remember his eyes, his arms, the sound of his voice, the feeling of being flush against his chest, the feeling of his lips on your neck, the feeling of his breath, like a feather over your ear while he filled you with something you couldn’t even bring yourself to name.

And you weren’t going to subject yourself to Hux’s abuse for the sake of a title. You were done being pushed around.

“In fact, you know what, General. I think you’re right.” You tossed your datapad onto his desk. “I want to be on a ship out of here within the next forty-eight hours. Consider this my official request for a transfer.”

Chapter Text

The terminal was quiet. You were alone, your only company the pittance of items you’d brought with you. Since you’d lost all of your belongings in the explosion of Starkiller, it wasn’t much--a few changes of clothes was all you’d need. You couldn’t remember the name of the station you were heading to, and you didn’t care. You just wanted off of the damn Finalizer.

Sam and Minks had been sad, but understanding. They’d seen your misery and stress and congratulated you on finding the strength to leave. There was a bittersweetness in your farewell--you’d been with Sam for the past few years of your schooling into your career. And Minks had become one of your closest friends. But people couldn’t keep holding you back.

He couldn’t keep holding you back.

You stared out of the massive panes of transparisteel, gaze lost in the swirl of stars. It still ached to think of him. Just the memory of his voice made your skin tingle and the hair rise on the nape of your neck. The biggest relief of leaving would be never having to see him again. Maybe, after a few months, you’d be able to snuff out that warm, persistent flicker in your chest. Maybe, finally, your heart could heal.

The chronometer on the wall read 10:54. Your departure wasn’t for over an hour. But you had nowhere else to go.

Behind you, the blast door hissed open, and you frowned. You’d been looking forward to having this time alone, to process the past several months, to look forward to a new beginning. Making small talk with a stranger wasn’t part of the agenda. You twisted your neck to catch a glimpse, and your heart stalled, legs scrambling upright while you retreated from the door. How did he--

“You’re leaving.” Kylo Ren’s voice was soft, even with the resonance of the mask.

Brow furrowing, you swallowed, hating the sudden quivering of your chin and racing of your pulse. “I’m leaving.”

The door shut behind him, and he stepped forward, his presence somehow consuming the entire terminal, his shoulders crowding the high ceilings, his feet blanketing the floor, his shadow reaching over yards of empty space to brush your toes. Another step vaporized the oxygen from the air, your lungs tight with hunger. A third step, and you’d already pedaled back into the transparisteel, icy from the vacuum of space--and he still seemed far too close.

He stopped. “Why?”

“Because I have to,” you replied. “Because I want to.”

His fists tightened. “Why?”

You frowned. “It’s none of your business.”

“You were made Chief Engineer.”

An ache squeezed your heart. Other than Sam, he’d known how badly you’d wanted it, too, if only because he could hear it in your mind. You wished you hadn’t hated it. You wished that the job would have met every expectation that you’d imagined. But it didn’t. And Hux had only made it worse.

“It wasn’t a good fit.”

Kylo Ren’s chest rose in a long, silent breath. “I could have fixed it.”

“Ha!” You crossed your arms. “Why would I have wanted you to do that?”

“That job is what you wanted.”

Rolling your eyes, you shook your head. “Can you stop assuming you know what I want, please? For someone who can hear my thoughts, you’re really fucking bad at it.”

His head tilted. “You’re stubborn.”

“And you’re an asshole.”

He didn’t respond. The terminal was still with empty air and your jaw was aching from how hard you’d been clenching it--something you didn’t even realize until you brought your hand up to massage your mandible. You wondered how long he’d stand there, saying nothing. You wondered what had brought him at all.

You sighed. “I told you that I didn’t--”

“Stay.”

The rest of your sentence lodged in your throat. “What?”

Another deep breath swelled in his ribcage. “Stay.”

Your face was numb. He’d come here to ask you to stay. For what reason? The pounding of your heart was so loud you’d bet your savings that he could hear it. You hated this. Hated that he was making you reconsider every single scolding you’d given yourself, every resolution you’d made to accept nothing less than his love. You wanted to slap him.

“What,” you sneered, “if I say no, are you going to make me?”

“No.”

For some reason, you’d been expecting snark. But he was being earnest. Genuine. Somehow. Perhaps you ought to try, too. Sighing again, you averted your gaze, examining the floor at your feet.

“I can’t stay, Kylo.”

An audible intake of air from his mask. “Why?”

“You know why!” You glared at him, teeth chattering. “How many times do I have to fucking tell you, dude?” Against your will, stupid, dumb tears bit at the corners of your vision, and you stared at the ground again. “Anyway, without my job, there’s nothing keeping me here. Especially not you.”

“Stay,” he repeated, as if he hadn’t heard a word you said.

You rolled your eyes. “No.”

Kylo growled, throwing his arm out to the side, sending a row of chairs flying into the adjacent wall, clattering against the durasteel and crashing in a heap onto the tile. You exhaled, unwilling to flinch, regarding him with a facade of boredom.

“Stay!” he snapped.

“No.”

His vocoder erupted in a snarl, and he spun, robes whipping at his legs as he ripped two more rows of chairs from their bolts and flung them into the far wall, leaving wide dents where they collided. He suspended them before they hit the ground, choosing instead to slam them across the room, the sound of metal on metal scraping at your eardrums. But you didn’t wince, or move--not an inch, even as he picked them up a final time and hurled them high into the ceiling, knocking sparks from one of the lamps and striking the ground as a mangled mess.

When he was done, his shoulders were crowded like they’d been drawn together with wire, his fists were rocks hanging at his sides. He was hunched, drooped like a wilted flower. A final, heavy breath, and he reached up, unlatching his helmet and prying it from his head. He tossed it off to the side, straightening his back and meeting your gaze. His brow was furrowed, his eyes empty and tired.

“Stay,” he murmured. “Stay.”

A knot stuck in your throat, and you turned, staring out into the black void, hand resting on the cold panel of transparisteel. You wanted to phase through it, escape the anvil on your chest. Why was he doing this to you? Now?

“Look, man.” Your nails scraped the window. “I thought I made myself really clear. Please just go away.”

“No.”

A vein in your temple thumped, and you swiveled to face him. “What do you mean, no?”

Even from yards away, you saw the twitch under his nose. “Not until you understand.”

“Until I understand? Understand what?” Furor foamed inside of you like a sea of lava. “You have some fucking nerve coming here and telling me what I do and don’t understand, Kylo Ren.”

Kylo frowned, tilting his head as he considered you. His feet shifted. “You need to stay.”

“What?” The word left as half of a laugh. “No. I don’t. I don’t have to do anything. Not for you.”

“You’re being difficult.”

“Aren’t I always?”

“You don’t--” He shook his head in frustration, lip furling. “I…” His gaze fell to the floor. “I need you.”

You rolled your eyes. How stupid did he think you were? “I’m not staying to be your power-charging fucktoy, okay? Go fuck off somewhere, man. I’m tired of your bullshit.”

Without a word, Kylo advanced, his long strides clearing the gap between your bodies in seconds, and your heart dove into your stomach, every muscle going rigid at once. Before you could think to dart away, he was on you, palms slamming next your face, his body towering over yours like a black threat. You growling, pushing on his shoulders, knowing it’d do nothing.

“Back off, dude!”

Kylo’s jaw was tight. “Look at me.”

“No!”

He snatched your face in his hands, jerking you toward him, but you looked to the side. Your name rumbled in his chest. “Look at me.”

“Fuck off!” You latched onto his wrists in vain.

“Look at me!” he hissed.

If only to get him to shut up, you did--but when your gaze met his, you weren’t able to look away. You were trapped, entranced, his irises like crackling pools of light, rings of golden fire burning through you, embers licking away the rest of your sight, leaving you with the image of him, only him, the rest of the world melting into puddles at your feet.

A shrieking in your ears deafened you, an inky miasma leaking into your vision, obscuring him--you wanted to shout, wrench away, yank his fingers from your face. But you were frozen, your body failing to respond, your mind suspended in darkness while he faded entirely, abandoning you in a silent purgatory, gasping, chest begging for air. The shrieking dulled, dwindling to a low, resonant thunder, growing louder, louder, until it was devouring your brain, and inside of yourself, you screamed, lids squeezing shut, blackness enveloping blackness--

Then nothing. No noise, no pain, no invisible chains. Breath filled your lungs once again. Trembling, you opened your eyes--and saw yourself through a mind that wasn’t your own.

Your vision was milky, sound trickling in with echoing artifacts. When you tried to move, tried to speak, you were paralyzed and mute--but like waking from a dream, you remembered where you’d come from. And you realized that this mind belonged to Kylo Ren.

The revelation opened a dam. Feral, wanton lust knocked you sideways, swallowing you like a tidal wave, drowning you in an uncontrollable and all-encompassing need. You struggled to wade through the sea of desire--Kylo’s desire--as he stared at you. Though you’d always known he’d wanted you, you’d never imagined this, never imagined that the weight of his longing was collapsing his veins, stealing his air, making his mind malfunction.

And yet, underneath it, you could sense something--a bubbling hidden by the surface of his yearning, a deep, dark something--

The room spun, walls and floors blending into a murky muddle before spinning out, edges of objects defining themselves--a control panel, red transparisteel, a co-pilot’s chair. The Command Shuttle. And you heard yourself sniffling in his memory--a loud, nauseating sound. Yes, that was it--hearing you cry made him sick. He couldn’t understand why. And the longer it went on, the greater the urge to blow a hole through the cockpit became. Kylo’s anger was festering, only growing stronger as the deluge of your self-pity poured into his head. Then a flicker, a twinge, an ache in his chest. He’d made you upset. And he didn’t like it.

“Tomorrow night.” Even in his memory, his own voice rumbled in his throat.

Before you heard yourself respond, the cockpit swirled in front of you, blending to a whirlpool of color, the frayed perimeter of a new recollection prickling to life. You were staring up at him from between his legs, your eyes round and gleaming, lips glistening with just-swallowed semen. Warmth rippled through his body, resonating in you as you watched yourself through his mind. He wanted you closer. Wanted more of that warmth, that feeling, so addictive, so comforting. He couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt that way. Couldn’t remember if he’d ever felt it at all.

“Come here,” came his voice, gentle and steady.

You remembered how you’d felt when he’d wrapped his arms around you for the first time--a cozy radiance settling into your abdomen--but if your feelings had been a radiance, then his were a sunburst, exploding from his chest and lighting his blood like rubies to the tips of his fingers. It was an intensity you could have basked in until your skin was scorched.

“I don’t forget you.” His heart was slamming into his sternum. “I never forget you.”

Even though it had happened months ago, joy sparkled in your belly like he had said the words for the first time. But the sparkles were snuffed out when you were ripped from the moment through a curtain of velvet black wrath, ingesting you before you’d glimpsed a wink. The first thing that crossed into your vision was the crimson crackle of his saber, slashing in wide red wings into the wall in front of him. He was lightning, hot and furious and raw, pouring his hatred through his hands.

But there it was, again--something under that blue-white rage, swollen with a pain so sharp that it punctured your breath and tore through your stomach. There was so much feeling, too much, too strong, you were choking on it, strangled by the ferocity of it all. Rejection, sadness, anguish--all knife-sharp, all lodging themselves into his--and your--chest. His mind was a whirlwind of why and of course and how and inevitable. But he didn’t want to feel these things, you realized, didn’t want to let his mind be controlled by someone so inferior. Your intestines twisted. He didn’t even want to think Sam’s name.

“Take off your clothes,” you heard him say--and then you were out again, flying through empty space before your brain was eclipsed with agony.

The mental torment had been acute enough--but now you wanted to writhe and screech as the reverberation of his physical injuries sliced through you. Your face burned as if it’d been swathed with glowing coals, your shoulder and arms and leg hissed and throbbed with an open ache. But worst of all was your abdomen--it’d been shredded to your core, leaving you breathless, speechless, thoughtless.

You knew where you were. You knew when this had been. And then you saw yourself hovering over Kylo’s face, your eyes wet with sincerity and fear--and you guarded your heart, terrified of what you knew came next.

It wasn’t just terror--it was dread, panic, like flashing alarms in your brain, too potent--and you realized your feelings were being compounded and swallowed by his own. He didn’t want you there, didn’t want you anywhere near him, his mind barraged with images of your head rolling at your feet, your body lifeless and limp and your pupils empty, mouth forever silent--

“Get. Away. From me.”

You watched your own face crumble, pull away--and then your vision crumbled, too, the memory falling like a landslide into the ocean. Heat filled the resulting cavity, a new scene constructing itself in his mind. It wasn’t just heat, though. It was peace--a clear, bright light, emanating from the center of his body.

And then, there you were, in his bed, in his arms, curled around him, and you remembered how this had gone. You brimmed with elation and infatuation, a shimmering aura at the edge of your flesh--except, while you revelled, you realized the emotions didn’t belong to you. They belonged to Kylo, who was holding you close, in awe and shock at the tranquility that was soothing his nerves, releasing his tension. He was confused, certain he was--he was undeserving. After what he’d done. After everything.

That something breached through the current, now, ebbing through him like antidote. He needed you. He--he--

“And I don’t understand you.”

Your vision fluttered and fuzzied, and you clawed at the memory, fighting the pull, unwilling to leave this moment for a second time. No, you wanted to stay there, make it your sanctuary, halt the cruelty of time and exist with him in harmony forever. You wanted to eliminate all of your mistakes and regrets, to return to a reality where love wasn’t spoken, but felt, in muscles and blood and breath. A reality where you felt--no, knew--he cared.

Just as you’d thought that, your grip on the vision wavered, and it was snatched away like a sheet, exposing you to the cold, bitter darkness of his brain. You hung there, forgotten, until a curdling scream pierced your chest, cleaving your head in two with its power and desperation. It ricocheted off the inside of your skull, so loud and urgent and painful, vibrating into your bones and liquefying your marrow. You needed something, anything to make it stop--and then, in a blink, you were looking through Kylo’s eyes, his mind hitting yours like a punch to the gut.

Fear, but not fear--horror. Hysteria. You were in danger. It was your scream. You were hurting, afraid, helpless, fading. He charged up the ramp, flung his arm forward, a tempest brewing in the wake of his vulnerability. There was no time for hesitation or worry. Kylo stepped into the shuttle, cornering his prey, and you saw the wriggling, craven figure of Dash Damarcus dangling in the air. The tempest had seized Kylo in its clutches--he was a storm, blinded by thunderous fury, his only mission to raze whoever had harmed you into dust.

This man--this delinquent--had taken it upon himself to try and end your life. Kylo wanted to punish him, torment him, exorcise the furor that pounded in his temples. And taking Dash’s life in turn was the only solution.

You wanted to shut it out--you didn’t want to see this part, not up close, not through the mind of the murderer himself. But no sooner had you thought that when Dash’s face--still alive, strangely--fizzled out from view.

Serenity settled over your mind, flowing in like a lazy river, assuaging all fear, all anger, all vengeance. Only the static of grey noise, the injection of heat into your veins, the incontestable buoyancy of bliss. The next memory wove itself together--though it was hard to tell. This one was dark. But as pieces locked, you saw yourself, lying next to him--and your heart sank.

Kylo’s body and brain were drunk on you, intoxicated, buzzing with affection and ecstasy and a feeling he identified as relief--and they were congealing into something familiar. Not just any kind of something. That something. You wanted to sear it into your flesh so it could never escape, so you could never forget it, so it could never, ever be refused. Because you knew what was about to leave your mouth, in this memory. And you knew that feeling would slip away, like smoke in the wind.

You seethed, then--why was he showing you this? Showing you the moment you’d already rehashed on endless repeat for over a month? You knew what happened. You knew what he felt. You didn’t want to dig a dagger into your heart and rend it open once again. But it was too late. Your eyes were gleaming as they stared into his. And your mouth finally moved.

“I love you.”

His reaction was immediate, like a whip cracking back on its tail. You tensed, expecting to find disgust, hatred, disappointment--but the only feeling that filtered through your connection was icy, paralyzing fear. You loved him. You loved him. He’d forgotten the definition. His mind was a flurry, racing to distinguish its meaning--but dredged up pain, pain, only more pain.

Then there was that something, so foreign, just beyond the horizon of his terror, creeping closer. But he stalled. He’d been through this before. Weak. Exposed. He didn’t want to be found out. He didn’t want to disappoint--to be determined deficient. This was all he had. All he’d ever have. Love had rejected him years ago, and the resulting crater was filled with a waterfall of rage.

Of course he didn’t love you. He didn’t have room. And he couldn’t go back. He’d spent the better part of a decade severing those threads. He couldn’t be weak. Not again.

All of this, you realized, in a single heartbeat--and he’d walked you through every needling millisecond of it. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think. Proof, intangible, but still proof, he didn’t love you, he’d never loved you, and he wouldn’t ever love you, no matter how long you held his flame. You watched with a fracturing resolve while he stood from his bed, leaving you, the replay as fresh as it’d been in your own memory.

“Leave,” he said, crippling you for the second time.

Sorrow. There was so much sorrow it was engulfing you, suffocating you, so much that you knew it couldn’t belong to you. It could only be Kylo’s, though that didn’t make sense. What did he feel sad about? You weren’t given time to further question--air was stolen from you as you were dragged out in the riptide of his misery, washed like sand into the rapids of his wrath.

He hooked you and reeled you in, stringing you out in the empty blackness once more. You could breathe, now, but couldn’t see, couldn’t understand. Fast flares of memory--a group of black cloaks and armor, the rush he felt when he thought of you, back on the Finalizer, the ash pit, his mind insisting that this wasn’t love, it couldn’t be. Your rejection, spears in his chest and stomach, and then he couldn’t talk, couldn’t move, couldn’t fight--pure, poignant suffering.

But there was something rising, brilliant and white, a sunburst dazzling you to blindness. It was a sword, cutting through to the hollow pit of his pain, lancing it like a boil and spilling the poison. It wasn’t just any something, it was that something, and it was streaming into your blood, coiling you in its silver heat, flooding you with warmth that glittered with every cresting wave.

It imbued you with strength, made you a giant with steel skin, sucked sadness from your body and infused euphoria, instead. It peeled you open, shook your cells, stuffed you to the seams with its enormity. You were trembling, gasping, aching with confusion and worry and disbelief. This something, something you’d always caught, always seen, always felt, an ambient melody in the depths of Kylo’s mind--you’d named this something. You knew this something. It was--it was--

The epiphany shattered you at your joints, and you cried out, straining against the talons of his mind, flailing to break out and breathe. His brain was too electric, colliding into yours like an avalanche, and then through his eyes, you saw yourself again, hypnotized, transfixed, your gaze wide and filled with tears, distant hot streaks staining your cheeks. A crack, a shot of sound, and you were wrenched through a billowing, breathless vacuity, thrust back into your mind like an arrow through flesh.

Kylo’s face was hardened, carved from stone, inches from yours--and trembling, trembling with restraint, with shame, all the way to the hands that held your cheeks. And his eyes were tender and wet, searching you, confessing in silence the reality he’d always denied. Your heart swelled, you squeezed his wrists, the two of you trading tremulous oxygen through your parted pairs of lips.

“You love me,” you breathed, speaking your dreams to life. “You love me.”

“You understand, then.” His voice was tight. A gloved thumb wiped an errant tear from your eye. “Stay.”

Air hitched in your throat. “Kylo…” You were mesmerized. You couldn’t believe that this was real. “I… I love--”

He pulled your face into his, his lips capturing yours in a hot, desperate kiss, and you moaned, burying your hands in his hair. Your open mouth was the invitation for his tongue, brushing over yours, a low grumble escaping him. Whimpering, you pressed into him, wanting to feel more of his body, wanting irrefutable, physical proof that you weren’t stuck in a fantasy. Kylo drew in air through his nose, his hands moving through your hair, now, the leather sticking to strands and tugging at your scalp. You winced--the pain was a good sign--and slid your tongue over his, pulling away to nip at his lower lip.

Smirking, he bit you back, and crushed your mouth with his own. His hands fell from your head to your arms, to your sides, settling at your hips and burrowing there. You understood the tightness of his grip--you felt the same urge, the same need to hold him there and keep him real. Groaning, your fists balled in the dark waves of his hair, your toes pushing you up and into him, an attempt to meld into the broad strength of his frame.

Kylo pulled away for air with a smack, palms skimming back to your sides, the lust in his eyes glinting and impatient. A pink tongue poked out over his lips, his chest swelling, fingers bunching in the fabric of your shirt. You knew what he was asking.

“We--we can’t here.” Your hands roamed to his biceps. “My transfer…”

“Will arrive in an hour.” He dipped his nose into your neck, and you shivered, a tiny gasp leaving your lungs. Grinning against your skin, Kylo plucked your wrist from his arm and led it between his legs, grazing your palm over his arousal. “It’s only you… and me.” He guided your hand, making you stroke at his bulge. “And I need you.”

You swallowed, desire a hot gust of wind over you. Seizing control, you gripped him through his trousers, nuzzling your head into his. “Take me.”

It was all he needed. Growling, Kylo sucked along your neck, moving up, attacking you with such force that your shoulders were flush with the window. His hands were eager, finding the top of your uniform and working down, exposing you bit by bit to the terminal’s cold air. But you weren’t to be outdone--as he nibbled at your throat, you mewled, fumbling to find the lock to his belt and releasing it. The massive leather wrap and saber fell to the floor with a thunk, but in the chorus of your passion, they may as well have been silent. Kylo whipped off his own gloves--as evidenced by the sudden, smooth warmth on your flesh--and his hands kneaded at the cups of your bra, fussing impatiently in a race to feel your naked breasts.

You leaned back, dodging his mouth, grappling with his cowl and pulling it from his head. He blinked when you tossed it to the side, your hands moving down to work on his surcoat. With a smirk, he returned to your throat, brushing his lips over your heartbeat, wisps of affection inspiring gooseflesh on your arms. You hummed in pleasure, undoing the final fastener, and pushed the heavy fabric off of his shoulders. Grumbling, Kylo let you go, shrugging off the rest of his robe, taking the moment to yank your top onto the floor.

“Dammit,” you mumbled, digits working at unfastening his padded armor. “Why do you have so many fucking layers, dude?”

Kylo huffed, thumbing at your nipple through your bra. “I could ask you the same question.”

You rolled your eyes. “Very funny.” In your rush, your finger slipped on a hook. “Gods! I hate this.”

Frowning, he removed your wrist and stepped away. He fixed his simmering gaze on you, locking you in his stare while he pulled each fastener free, skating down his body with a seductive deliberance. Your breath shortened, your thighs pressing together while you watched him pop the final hook and strip the armor to the ground.

Left only in his undershirt, you moved to wrest it from him, but he froze you in place. Burning you through with desire, he gathered the hem in his digits and rolled it up his body, revealing his tight, toned stomach, his massive, muscular chest, and then his arms, thick with power and tensing as he shucked off the final covering of his torso. Fading pink scars etched across his frame, and you found yourself wanting to run your tongue over every one of them. Stars, he was beautiful--and he was yours.

Kylo snickered as he released the Force, moving forward, his body a column of heat driving you flat against the transparisteel. Your cheeks tingled while you gazed at him, aching with need. He pushed a hand through your hair, thumb stroking your cheek while he stared into you.

“All yours,” he murmured, and his lips were on you.

Whimpering into his warm mouth, you pressed your palms to his chest, tracing over the lines of his wounds, your body shuddering with unfettered emotion and longing. Your heart was a white star in your ribcage, illuminating you from the core of your soul. Kylo Ren was yours--yours, yours, yours.

He broke the kiss and gripped your shoulders, spinning you around and pinning you to the transparisteel. You gasped, skin going taut as the frosty glass leaked into your veins--but he showed no concern, pressing his hard, concealed length into your ass, hands gliding up and down your sides, lips linking welts along the nape of your neck. He moved to the clasps of your bra, tugging them loose and pushing the garment off of your shoulders onto the floor. Your breasts compressed into the cold window, your nipples painfully stiff, and you moaned, squirming in his grip.

“Oh, Kylo…”

Though it was unlikely, the corner of your mind fretted about passing ships--if innocent pilots would see you like this, tits flattened against the window, a nameless man kissing his way down your back. Kylo’s lips left flames on your flesh, your muscles twitching the lower he sank, his hands sneaking around to the front of your pants and unfastening them. He drew a line up your spine with his tongue and jerked your trousers and panties to your ankles in a single swift motion.

“Fuck.” Now you were entirely nude for any interloper to take in--and you shivered as the thought brought a clench to your cunt.

“Shh.” Kylo’s hands snaked to your pussy to tease over your clit, and you sighed. “Even if anyone saw you…” Strong palms went to massaging your thighs as he licked his way to the curve of your ass. “They could never have you.”

A surge of love--love--coursed through you. “No,” you replied. “Never.”

His palms moved to your ass, kneading the muscle while he kissed over the skin. You shivered, suppressing a giggle, but he shushed you, pushing apart your legs as far as they’d go before the cuffs of your trousers prevented any further movement. He continued to rub your flesh, humming as he dragged his fingers along the rim of your ass, then back up, evoking a squeak.

“Kylo--”

“Shh. Relax.” Kylo kissed down the cleft, digits spreading you wide, and you squealed, arching away from his touch. He growled, holding you firm. “Listen, for once.”

You sighed. “I don’t know, man, that’s a pretty big request to demand from me.”

“Enough.” A warm, wet fluid dribbled over the tight ring. “Now, be good.”

Nodding, you bit your lip while he dragged his tongue over the circle of nerves, joints shaking as you stifled the urge to yip or buck away. It was first bizarrely pleasant--the slickness of his spit and the teasing of his mouth sending tiny shivers up your thighs--but pleasant evolved into pleasurable, his tongue swirling in loops around the entrance of your ass, soft lips kissing and massaging you in unfamiliar and incredible ways. You moaned, nails raking down the cool window, pressing your forehead into the transparisteel while you shifted, trying to open wider for him.

“Good,” he purred, licking a hot line up your ass “Very good.”

One of his hands slithered to the side of your hips, squeezing and caressing its way to the supple inside of your thigh, two fingers brushing back and forth over your folds. A cry escaped you when you ground onto his digits, and you blushed--you hadn’t been meaning to seem so needy. But Kylo only snickered, pushing deep, heavy kisses against your delicate ring, moaning into you while his digits wiggled in between the wet lips of your pussy.

“Fuck, Kylo.” Oxygen quaked in your lungs. He traced your core with his fingers before sliding a single one in. “Damn--dammit!”

He hushed you under his breath, pumping the digit in and out while he flattened his tongue on your ass, lapping at your hole. Another moan from you, and he thrust in a second finger, burying his face in your flesh, groaning and slurping behind you while he curled and twisted his digits inside your cunt. You wailed, rolling your hips with his ministrations, chin quivering and lids shutting as you submitted to the building pleasure.

Kylo scissored you open, stroking at your walls, and you clenched and pulsed around his fingers, your clit growing swollen and achy from neglect. Gods, it felt good--but it wasn’t enough to push you over the edge.

“You’re getting so wet for me,” he murmured. “Do you want to cum, little girl?”

Panting, you nodded, forehead still stuck to the transparisteel. He chuckled, pulling his digits from your pussy and spitting off to the side. With a gentle grip, he removed your shoes and assisted you in stepping out of your pants before easing you around. His eyes were hungry, staring at you with anticipation. Grinning, he drew his tongue along his fingers, still sticky with your cum, popping them in his mouth and sucking them clean before inching himself between your legs.

Powerful hands gripped your thighs as he spread you apart, hoisting your legs onto his shoulders, his breath warm on your throbbing pussy. Holding you in his gaze, he kissed your folds once, twice, before painting a broad stripe up your cunt and sucking your clit into his mouth. You sobbed, fingers foraging through his hair, scratching his scalp while you held his face against your sex. Kylo growled, shifting, nuzzling into your pussy and laving at the fluids leaking from your core, his plush lips sending bolts to your belly.

You whined, rocking your hips into his face, body awash with pleasure. The window was cold at your back, but your cheeks were running hot, lids wanting to close, yet unwilling to look away from the man between your legs. His irises were golden-honey with desire, funnelling the edges of his adoration into his gaze, an incomparable sensation of bliss and joy spilling into your blood.

“Yes,” you sighed. “Don’t stop…”

He inhaled through his nose, humming while he closed his eyes, sealing his lips around your clit and suckling. Shivering, your rested your head on the window, closing your lids, jaw hanging open as he teased your nub with his tongue. His digits dug into your flesh, and you squeezed his skull with your thighs, bucking into his mouth, trying to ride him against his control. Grunting, he sucked the bud past his teeth, shooting pleasure through your nerves, and you released a long, deep moan.

“Shit--fuck--” You gasped, oxygen catching in your throat, coming louder, faster, your legs shaking with the impending impact of your climax. “Yes, yes!”

A final flick of his tongue, and you broke, a spectrum of color blazing through your mind, a string of sobbing wails fleeing you as you crushed his head with your legs. Your nails cut crescents into his scalp, a measure of ecstasy you’d never known sparking a rapture in the essence of your soul. Kylo sucked you to the end of your orgasm, dragging his bottom lip up the top of your slit while you descended.

Chest heaving, your head lolled to the side as you regained awareness, mind spinning with a heady, exhausted satisfaction. You found his gaze in the fuzzy haze, supplying him with a grin, fingers carding through his hair. Purring, he kissed up the roll of your belly, skimming his teeth along the skin.

“I want you...” he whispered into your flesh.

You smiled, heart blooming. “I want you, too.”

Kylo blinked and bit his lip, gripping your thighs while he rose to his feet. He pushed you up the window, your skin squeaking along the transparisteel, and you grimaced as it tugged at your shoulder blades. He shushed you, nestling his face into your neck and curling your legs around his waist while he worked at his trousers. A grunt of relief left his nose as his cock sprung free, and you felt it slap against your still-sensitive pussy.

“This what you want, filthy thing?” he growled. “You want me to fuck you like this? Where anyone could see?” The head of his dick circled your clit, and his mouth worried the lobe of your ear, his breath soft, his voice vibrating through you. “You want them to know who gets to fuck you?”

You clenched. “Yes, Kylo, yes.” Whimpering, you nuzzled your head in his shoulder, slinking your arms around his back and following the raised flesh of his scars. “Please…”

“Then who is it?” His mouth marked your neck with fervor, his energy growing more primal by the second. He slid the head of his cock to your entrance, taunting you with false thrusts. “Who gets to fuck you?”

“You do.” You tensed, bracing against him. “You do.”

“Mm. That’s right.” He drove his dick into your cunt, a smothered moan escaping him as he split you open with a sting. He stretched you wide within a second--but it felt so good, as if you were whole again. Huffing, he shifted, and snapped his hips, snarling as you pulsed around him. “Fuck… That’s right…”

Kylo fucked into you like a savage, as if to make up for lost time, as if to make himself one with your body. He panted into your ear, groaning, digits bruising your thighs while he hammered your cervix with thrust after thrust after thrust. Sputtered curses left him under his breath and he attempted to silence himself with your neck, biting and nibbling at your throat. You groaned, bouncing with the power of his hips, air hiccuping in your lungs as he pounded you.

“Fuck,” he hissed. “Fuck, you feel so good.” He pulled back, forcing your face off of his shoulder, and he pressed his forehead into yours, drilling you with his eyes. “You want me to fill you with my cum, little girl?”

You shuddered, nodding. “Yes, please, please!”

“Good.” He caught your lips in a brief kiss. “Good girl…”

Keeping his brow glued to yours, he growled, plowing into your pussy with ruthless abandon. Your blood was magma, caulking every crack in your heart and erupting into your skin. Gods, you loved this--but not just that. No, you loved him--and, free of the chains of rejection, it gushed out of you.

“I love you, Kylo,” you murmured. “I love you…”

Kylo’s breath hitched, and he stepped somehow closer, pumping his cock into your pussy. “Again.”

You smiled, eyes feeling wet. “I love you,” you said. “I love you.”

He sucked in air through his teeth, and then the Force was on your clit, rubbing you with a fluid grace up the path to your next climax. “Again.”

“Fuck!” you cried. This was more than you could handle. Your chest was tight, voice shaking. “I love you! I love you, Kylo!”

Every part of you felt like it was about to spill over and douse you both in emotion. The Force picked up speed, and you were gasping, groaning, fisting his hair while you fought to hang on. Your mouth dropped in an open pant, pussy clenching and squeezing his thick cock with every slam of his hips. He moaned, lost in pleasure, wild with lust. Sweat stuck your skin like paste, a bead dripping down your temple. He had you close, so close, your orgasm ready to shred you apart.

Kylo growled, plugging you full of his dick. “Again!”

“I love you!” you wailed, tears slipping along your cheeks. “I fucking--fuck! Kylo!”

“Yes, yes,” he groaned. “Cum--cum for me…”

You convulsed as your climax rocked you, clamping on his dick and milking his shaft while he rammed into your pussy. He choked, pressing his lips to yours in an attempt to silence a loud, violent moan, skin smacking as he poured his cum into your cunt. Returning the kiss, you tugged at his hair, pulling away when his hips finally stalled and you were both chasing your breath.

Kylo nuzzled into the crook of your neck, holding you to the heat of his frame--he was almost feverish, adorned with sweat, his heart thumping against his ribs with such force you felt it in your own chest. Silent, he pressed soft kisses into your flesh, shuddering while his seed dripped from your pussy.

“Stay,” he whispered, barely audible. “Please.”

Your heart fell into your stomach. Stay. The first instinct was to surrender, to drop it all and spend the day in Kylo’s bed. You’d wait up for him, wait until he slid in next to you in the middle of the sleep cycle and pulled you into his chest, his body warm and secure and the both of you lost in each other’s eyes, exchanging silent vows of worship. Your chin trembled as you imagined holding his hand, his lips on your forehead, everything so vulnerable and safe and new.

But then you wondered--where would you go the next day? What would you do? You’d already known there was nothing left on the Finalizer, and you’d solidified it with your transfer request. And as delightful as the idea seemed now, you knew yourself--and you knew you’d wither into dust with only the inside of Kylo’s quarters to keep you occupied. A new station promised a refreshing challenge, a change of pace, a restoration of the passion you’d nearly forgotten since meeting Kylo Ren all those months ago. And the Finalizer didn’t have it for you. Not anymore.

You gazed into Kylo’s eyes--they were sincere. Unguarded. Afraid. Tears stung your cheeks and you combed your digits through his dark waves. The words would hardly leave.

“I can’t,” you said. “I can’t.”

His brow furrowed, lip twitching. He swallowed. “Why?” he asked. “Why not?”

“You know why, Kylo.” He’d heard it in your head. You didn’t want to have to say it out loud, too.

Shaking his head, he frowned. “Name the issue. I’ll have it rectified.”

“No,” you said. “That’s not it.” Biting back a sob, you kissed his nose. “You can’t fix this, Kylo.” You shrugged. “There’s nothing left for me here.”

Kylo’s jaw hardened, and he glanced to the side, blinking away some unnamed emotion. “I am.”

Dammit. “I know.” You cupped his face, stroking his cheek. “I know you are. And I… I want to be with you. So, so badly.”

“Then stay.”

“But my life is more than just you, Kylo,” you replied. “You have the Force, and I have… uh, something way less interesting than that.” Well, it was true--engineering would never be a child’s fantasy. “And I can’t keep putting everything on hold just because… just because of how I feel.”

He exhaled, gazing over your shoulder, considering. The universe had filled the pools of his pupils, his mind an enigma. As he ruminated, he massaged the backs of your thighs, and his softening cock finally slipped out of you. He swallowed again, and met your eyes.

“You need to redress.”

A half-hearted chuckle left you--he’d understood. “What, you don’t think I can just get on the shuttle naked?”

He smirked. “Even if you could,” he said, “I’d expect them to protest when I started fucking you in your seat.”

You bit your lip, blushing as you gave him a playful smack on the shoulder. “Okay then, hornball, let me down.”

“Mm.” Kylo guided your feet to the floor and grabbed your chin, tilting it toward him. “Funny words coming from a woman with my cum in her cunt.”

“Oh, shut up.” You rolled your eyes, smacking his hand away. Sighing, you folded your arms across your chest, surveying the tile. It was littered with clothes. Once they were back on, he’d probably have to leave, too. You glanced at the chronometer. 11:41. “Do you…” You chewed your cheek. “Do you want to wait with me? For my shuttle?”

He scrutinized the floor, tucking himself away. After a moment, he looked back at you. “Yes.”

The two of you clothed yourself in silence (though he took considerably longer). When you were finished, you fixed your hair, and returned toward the transparisteel, staring out into space. Crossing your arms, you snuffed the urge to cry. You weren’t upset about your choice--but it didn’t seem fair. Didn’t seem fair that it’d taken the threat of your loss to earn you his honesty. Didn’t seem fair that you wouldn’t get another night in his arms, another morning in his bed. Didn’t seem fair that he’d finally admitted that he loved you--and now you had to leave it all behind.

As you gulped down your despair, Kylo’s arms wrapped around you, encasing you in his embrace, sheathing you with his body. His chin rested on your head, and you blushed, goosebumps racing over your skin. Smiling, your digits hooked onto his arms, locking him in place, and he rocked you like that, back and forth, quiet and content and equal--for the very first time. His chest rose at your spine, and he kissed the crown of your scalp, watching with you as blankets of stars winked past. Somewhere out there was your new station. A new planet. A new home. And maybe Kylo’s home, too.

“Where did you grow up?” Your heart skipped the second the question left your mouth. His past was not his preferred subject.

But all he did was hold you tighter, pressing his lips to your hair. “Hosnian Prime.”

You blinked, growing small. “Oh.” Grief--for him, for his planet--stuck in your throat. “I’m so sorry.”

“No,” he said. “It hasn’t been my home in over a decade.”

“Where do you call home, then?”

“Nowhere.” He kissed you again, squeezing you in his arms. “This is the closest I’ll come.”

You laughed. “What, the Finalizer?”

“No.” His head dipped next to yours, seeking refuge. “You.”

“Oh.” Something else caught in your throat--not grief, not sadness. It was fiercer than the both of them combined, ravaging your senses, welling tears in your eyes, pulverizing your heart to pieces. “Kylo, I--”

The terminal door squealed, the sound of air being sucked into nothingness roaring beyond the hatch. Your shuttle.

Kylo dropped his arms, crossing to where he’d left his helmet, moving to return it to his head. But you reached out, stepping forward, hesitating to ask him to wait. Against your wisdom, you just didn’t want your last image of him to be that vacant, emotionless mask.

“Kylo, I--” You wanted to tell him where you were going. Where to find you. But it hadn’t been important to you, at the time. You’d already forgotten. “I don’t know where they’ve placed me.”

He paused, clutching the helmet and striding back over to you without a word. Past the blast door, the drone of dying engines rumbled through the walls. His gaze darted between you and the exit, jaw clenching, and as the hatch whirred, he frowned, grabbing you and pulling you into a hot, brutal kiss. You sighed into his mouth, but before you could kiss him back, he released you, his eyes shimmering in the light.

This was it. This was goodbye. And you were choking.

“I love you,” you said. And then, something you hadn’t realized until that moment. “I’m scared.”

Kylo blinked. “Scared.”

“I don’t want to be without you, anymore.” More tears. They burned you like an iron brand.

“Listen to me.” He pinched your chin, angling you to his face. “No matter where you go. Nothing will keep you from me.”

The hatch wailed as it unlocked, beginning its ascent. Kylo frowned and replaced his helmet on his head, holding it above his nose to capture your lips in one final kiss before stepping back and sealing the locks.

His voice was deeper than a quake in the ground. “I will find you, sweet thing.”

Your face flushed with blood--and he spun on his heel, robes winding behind him as he marched out of the door. To your right, the shuttle had popped its entrance, the pilot urging you forward. Your eyes flickered from the pilot and the door Kylo had just disappeared through. He loved you. That man loved you. That knowledge alone was enough to encase your heart in an aurora.

“You ready?” the pilot asked, slapping a hand on the ship.

Nodding, you ran and grabbed the tiny parcel of your belongings, wiping the stray tears from your cheeks. “Yep,” you replied. “I’m ready.”