Don’t get me wrong I am SO happy for my friends success and I genuinely love to see it. But my brain can’t help but scream at me for my own shortcomings
Robert Sean Leonard on NPR’s segment, Poems for Daughters in 2004. RSL reads Phillip Booth's brief poem, First Lesson, which he wrote for his daughter, reflecting on her learning to swim.
Robert reads this poem four years before having a daughter himself and long before he would be a father to three girls in all! Knowing this makes this reading all the more heart warming and sentimental. I hope you all enjoy it as much as I do.
Don’t forget to check out my RSL playlists! This video is on both The Ultimate RSL Playlist and RSL Narrating & Singing.
Summary: Commander Kylo Ren needs a competent officer to accompany him on an important mission, and he has requested you specifically. When he discovers that you don't know how to pilot a TIE fighter, he takes it upon himself to fix that. Turns out cockpits are good for other things, too.
Rating: Explicit
Words: 7.4k
Content Warnings: possible dubcon, choking, spanking, inappropriate use of the Force, rough sex, minimal aftercare, cockwarming… yeah.
A/N: Wow so this is officially my first published work after lurking in the fandom for a good 4 years??? Holy shit. I'm super nervous, but hey, I've got to start somewhere! I've had this silly idea gnawing around in my little rat brain for fucking ever, so it feels good to finally pound it out (heh). I have... literally never written smut before, sooo I welcome any feedback. Thank you for reading this!
"Take a fighter. Follow me to the surface."
The commander strode powerfully over the gangway, dismissing you with a flick of his gloved hand as he approached the yawning cockpit of his TIE silencer. Engineers scrambled aside like rats to sunlight as he moved, conveniently parting a clear path for you to follow the rippling tower of black robes across the platform. You stumbled and jogged slightly to keep up, your gaze shifting nervously along the sinister row of TIE fighters. They sat anchored to the dock, still as a cavalry line at dawn, each black durasteel destrier awaiting its chance to charge into battle. But there was no impending fight here. Why weren't you taking the command ship?
"Commander. Sir, w-wai-" You collided with an unyielding wall of black, having not been looking where you were going. Ren had stopped and was now turned to look at you, posture stiff, eyes burning with impatience. You straightened sharply and jumped back, shying away from your next words as your cheeks burned under the dark beam of his stare.
"I... I don't know how to fly one. S-sir." You managed to say, and your heart plummeted into your stomach with the admission. It seemed childish. Silly. But-- what would he think of you now? You had always admired the commander more than you'd ever admit to your peers, and if you were honest, you found him wildly, dangerously attractive. There was something about the way he barely held back. The fire that shone behind his dark eyes like they were the only living part of a face cast in carbonite, that made you dare to wonder what he would look like if he let go. The power that radiated from him was always so visceral, yet restrained. Except, of course, when he had his outbursts. You only ever saw the aftermath: a shredded, glowing control panel, a dazed and heaving officer slumped against the floor after being Force-choked within an inch of death over a particularly inconvenient mistake. You'd be lying if you said such unbridled evidence of his power didn't stoke a flame of intrigue. And perhaps something else.
You had only recently been promoted to lieutenant general, but you had a feeling Kylo Ren had watched you closely for some time. You saw it in the shift of his eyes whenever you passed him by, the particular burn of his stare when you delivered reports on behalf of your superior general. You'd never known a commander to hold such a piqued interest in the drabble of stormtrooper reconditioning scores. Or why he had to fix his gaze so intently on you that you could swear he was trying to turn your blood molten.
You knew that you were more than competent in your position, yet you couldn't quell a desire to impress the commander. Whether it was with your sharp aptitude for command, tactical maneuvers, or securing risky strategic alliances, you always tried to establish presence. To command the room, intimidate both your peers and subordinates with your sharp wits, and earn those rare, blood-branding stares of approval from Kylo Ren when your steel confidence washed a hush over the room. What you'd never admit was how that steel later melted down into gushing whimpers under the forge of your sheets, imagining the kinds of things that your commander might do to you.
You'd had to forcibly smother your elation when you received the order for your aid specifically on this mission, not even knowing until a few minutes ago that it was you, and only you, that Kylo Ren had requested to come along. It sank like a cold blade into your gut now to know that your ineptitude would make him think less of you. The knife twisted with the realization that you would be left behind on the only opportunity you might ever get to spend some time alone with the commander.
He looked at you for a moment, expression unreadable. How had your command training not included basic piloting by default? A brief flash of anger lit his eyes and set his jaw tight as he thought about whoever's incompetence he would have to deal with later when he reviewed the training program. But for now, there was no time.
Your eyes were fixed to the metal grate of the floor, stomach knotting, as you steeled a calm mask over the disappointment that tightened your throat. You began to speak, your voice coming out smaller than you intended. "I’m sorry, Commander. I will inform mission control that you are in need of--" Before you could finish, Kylo Ren clamped his arm around your waist, pulling you firmly to his body as he leveraged his hips in one fluid motion to drag you with him into the small cockpit of the TIE silencer.
Your brain reeled, a small yelp escaping your lips as your ass landed firmly into his lap, one of his arms anchoring you there while his other hand reached to flick a control above him. Before you could stammer out the question of what the fuck he was doing, the cockpit was already hissing closed around you both.
"First lesson."
Your pulse was a flurry. He began to flip the controls absently, looking easily over your head as you awkwardly adjusted yourself on his thighs. The space was so small, there was absolutely no position you could assume that didn't involve your ass planted into his hips, your back against his broad torso, and your calves draped around either side of his ridiculously long legs. Your head spun. The thrusters hummed to life. Fuck. Everything was moving too fast. His gloved hand began to point individually at each control he had just engaged.
"Auxiliary."
His voice was dead even as he pointed to the first switch on your left, the movement of his arm making his chest ripple under your shoulder blade. Your brain was a mess of thrill and panic. Was this really happening right now? Heat flowed in a river down your spine and pooled in the roiling cauldron of your belly. Whether it wanted to wash you away, or pull you in like a rip current to his body, you couldn’t decide. His hand moved to a lower control panel where the second switch sat, affording you little time to take in what he was saying.
"Compressor."
You tried hard to focus on his words, blinking the spinning confusion out of your eyes as you dumbly studied the path his hand had just taken. You blinked again, hard. Auxiliary. Compressor. Okay. You forced yourself to bid the controls to memory, trying to catch up as he moved along. Four adjacent switches to your right had been next.
"Ignition,"
His gloved finger drew languidly against the curved switch in a way that suddenly made your skin light up against every solid line of his body pressed flush to yours. Your thighs tensed. Heat climbed your neck as you struggled to hold onto a fragile thread of focus.
"Thrusters."
He gestured to the final three buttons. Fucking breathe. Ignition, thrusters. Okay. Simple enough. You sobered yourself sternly and nodded your understanding as you flicked your gaze along the control path that started the engines, internally repeating it several times as your heartbeats became distinguishable again. It was quick. Concise. Fitting, you thought, for a state-of-the-art starfighter prototype that might need to get airborne in a hurry. It was certainly far less brain-scrambling than the orchestrations you'd seen performed upon the control panels of freighters to wrangle them towards liftoff. Why don't they label anything in those damn ships anyways?
"Now," Ren’s hands gripped your hips, instantly shattering your moment of composure. Stars, why did he have this effect on you? And why did a part of you never want it to end? He adjusted your seat, pressing you slightly straighter against him, and you could feel the warm, solid contour of his abdomen flex under your spine. You swallowed hard.
"Steering is intuitive." His palms smothered the backs of your hands as he picked them up, guiding them to grasp the vertical steering grips. Your blood felt uncomfortably hot in your veins. He kept his hands wrapped firmly over top of yours, arms encircling you like a gigantic fucking scaffold, coaxing you to lift the handles very slightly upwards. The craft lurched to life in response, and you were suddenly thankful for his hands holding yours steady as your heart threatened to explode from your ribs.
It was intuitive, you'd give him that, even if your intuition felt starkly absent from your brain at the moment. The body of the craft lifted smoothly, almost sentiently, with the subtle upward press of the handles. Still, the sudden g-force of liftoff sank you firmly into the commander's lap, amplifying an alarming and far too pleasant stir that agitated the pit of your belly.
You breathed slowly, trying to stay as still as possible on top of him, your brain still coming to grips with what the fuck was occurring right now. You thought maybe you'd had a dream like this once. Come to think of it, the enigmatic commander had starred in many of your most pleasant dreams -- with or without the mask. Oh, stars. You screwed your eyes tight, inwardly cursing your useless fucking brain. Did you really have to think about that right now? You were definitely blushing. A puff of breath hit the back of your neck. Wait- Did he just chuckle?
You didn't have time to figure out the answer as his gloved hands flexed over the top of yours and your eyes flew open, finding that the fighter was now hovering a comfortable distance from the hangar floor. He pressed your joined hands forward, and the ship responded gorgeously, accelerating towards the mouth of the docking bay in a smooth departure that made your veins flutter with a thrill of adrenaline. Vacuous darkness swallowed the viewport as the Supremacy was left swiftly in your wake, and you released a lungful of air you didn't know you had been holding. An unexpected calmness suddenly blanketed you as everything fell to the periphery. As your wide eyes adjusted to the void, a spattering of stars slowly blinked into view, decorating the expanse. It was... silent. Still. Breathtaking.
Ren pulled the grips under your hands back like the reins of an obedient steed, and the craft responded as such. The only indication that the fighter had stilled was the slightly quieter hum of the idling ion thrusters vibrating softly through the air of the cockpit. Your respite was brief. The tranquility of space was magnifying your far-from-tranquil realization that you were now decidedly, irreversibly alone with the commander, and your insides folded in half.
You hardly dared to breathe, let alone move, your senses suddenly augmented and trained sharply onto Kylo Ren as you sat pressed into his lap. His lap. Maker, have mercy. Your clean-pressed uniform suddenly felt tight and stifling around your neck, and you swallowed thickly.
"Take over."
He spoke curtly into the silence, almost making you jump as the baritone rumbled close to your ear. Stars, everything he said was a fucking command. You couldn’t deny how much you’d always enjoyed the rich color of his natural, unmodulated voice, taking secret reverence in the way he could paralyze a room with it. Nor could you ignore the way that every word he spoke was now having the opposite effect, riling up that dismayingly persistent heat between your legs.
He slid his hands off of yours, leaving you in full command of the sleek starfighter. Nerves needled a patchwork in your gut as you stared disconnectedly at your own bare hands gripping the controls. They might as well have been someone else's entirely. Two palms settled over the tops of your thighs, and the gesture pierced all the way to your brain.
By the void, calm the fuck down. You grounded yourself sternly, tightening your grip around the contoured handles and forcing yourself to feel their texture, the ridges that dug into your skin, the tension that rippled up your arms and into your shoulders as you squeezed them. Breathe. There was a reason you'd been promoted so fast: it was your aptitude toward levelness and situational control under pressure. You could do this. Just... treat it like another test. Taking a steadying breath and fixing your brow in determination, you pressed the grips forward.
If you thought takeoff was intuitive, now that you somewhat had your frayed wits about you, this was like an extension of your own consciousness. The silencer handled like a dream, and you quickly got the hang of its basic movements, almost forgetting your strange predicament as you took surprising delight in steering the agile craft through the vacuum of space. Kylo Ren hardly moved beneath you. He seemed to be letting you feel the ship out on your own, but his hands occasionally flexed over the curve of your thighs, his fingers splaying into a wide grip that pressed heat into your veins. An alarming reminder, each time, that he was paying attention. Always paying attention.
You cut the silencer back towards the Supremacy after a short while, and were surprised to note that the stifling mega class dreadnought seemed much… smaller, from out here. It felt strange, looking upon the massive vessel that encompassed your entire life, whose halls and chambers you had meticulously memorized, as if it were no more than a distant memory. The perspective settled a quiet feeling inside you that you couldn’t quite formulate.
Also in view, and framing the silhouette of the star destroyer impressively, was your ultimate destination. A large planet, twinkling with tiny rivers of light between clouds, and crowned in a halo of white flame from this system's central star. The planet would be the site of your mission, which, you noted -- the commander still hadn't even briefed you on. You funneled the nervous pang at the thought into determination as you caressed the controls again, considerably braver now about handling the craft.
In a moment of spontaneity, you locked the arches of your feet under Ren's calves and accelerated sharply, whipping the silencer into a tight barrel roll. A breathy, delighted laugh swelled in your chest before you could catch it as you righted the ship to its initial orientation again.
"Good," Ren murmured into your hair, a large hand sliding up to your belly as you reined the ship smoothly to a halt. He pressed you slightly tighter to him with a splayed palm, his strong nose grazing your ear, and the responding thrill between your thighs set your brain back to spinning. You suddenly became aware of a firm knot under your seat that you hadn't noticed before, and your breath stopped. You'd been so distracted maneuvering the ship, you couldn't be sure. You cocked your hips slightly, daring to shift against him, and with the movement it was undeniable: Kylo Ren was hard as a rock.
You gasped, and the moment you tensed, a gloved hand snaked up to slam into your throat and pull you roughly back against a solid chest, breath hot and immediate in your ear.
"Don't think I haven't noticed..." His voice was dark and dangerous as his free hand slid to your inner thigh, gripping the sensitive flesh there, your airway closed tight. You trembled, pulse galloping, as a spear of adrenaline ignited each of your most primal instincts at once.
"...How you can hardly keep those eyes to yourself around me." His lips were warm against the shell of your ear as his nose grazed the baby hairs at your temple, the feeling adding a confusing tingle to the sharp claws of terror that gripped you. Your pulse was deafening, and you struggled to find either breath or coherence under his iron grip. His hand on your throat loosened slightly with a creak of leather, and the sweetness of air crashed into your lungs.
"I could say the same," you breathed without thinking, suddenly wondering if you actually had a deathwish. His hand flexed threateningly on your throat and you flinched, but he simply breathed a dark chuckle into the hollow of your ear. Oh. That made you fucking shiver.
"Observant." He slowly ground his hips up into you, more or less fucking his prominent erection against your ass. Needles of fear laced confusingly into a wash of desire as a soft noise escaped you, and you bit your lip to catch it in its tracks as he continued. "But I know every thought you've ever had about me, lieutenant." Oh, stars. Fuck. You knew he’d paid attention to you, but not that closely.
"It's pathetic, really… " He continued to grind torturously against you, his broad hand pinning your thigh the same way a predator might hold down a piece of live prey that it wants to toy with for a while before killing. "...The way you try so hard to impress me." His growl bottomed out on the emphasis with a decisive roll of his hips that sent an electric shock careening to your core. You squirmed against him, but his grip on your neck and leg had you on an axis that allowed precious little freedom. His hips continued their disciplined pace as he spread his knees slightly, forcing your own to follow, and his thumb traced electricity into the tender patch of thigh just below your most intimate parts. You clenched at the closeness of it.
"But…” he purred, tone shifting slightly.
“The things that cross your mind at night?" You froze with dread, wishing the ice in your spine would somehow percolate into the space around you, freeze it into stasis so that he wouldn't continue with his next words. But Kylo Ren was a furnace, burning the unlimited fuel of your fear, and he rumbled on.
"When you touch that wet little cunt, and think about me?" He lifted his palm away briefly - the predator's illusion of mercy - before delivering a hard, stinging smack straight to your inner thigh. Your cunt convulsed.
"Filthy."
A silent pause filled the cockpit, allowing both the word and the impact to sink into your nerves before he slowly circled his glove across the tingling flesh under his hand. Your bones went gelatinous, and, stars, you whimpered. It was a sound so foreign to even your own ears, that you startled yourself.
His straining cock pulsed against the curve of your ass, and he swore darkly, sliding his hand on your thigh up to cup your sex through the fabric of your pants. You were already wet and aching, you could feel it, but the slight pressure of his hand over your sensitive heat drove your need to a frenzy. Another whine leaked unbidden from your lips.
“Tell me, lieutenant, how do you prefer me?” His voice was cruel and dark, drawing out your torment as he began to tease your slit with a pressure so light you thought you might die on the spot.
“With, or without the mask?” He pressed down, rolling his forefinger over your clit in a firm motion that sent sparks into your brain. Your mouth fell open in an obscene moan that echoed around the cockpit. Kylo Ren stiffened, tightening his grip on your throat and stilling the pressure on your aching bud.
He didn't have to say anything for you to know in your gut that an answer was required. Your stomach quivered. This was his game, and you were going to have to play at it if you wanted any of your deepest, most secret desires to come to fruition now. And stars, you wanted it bad. You found a few breaths, collecting fragments of your voice.
"Any w-way you'd have me, C-commander." Your voice was hardly intact, but you managed to breathe the words out through your daze of terror and need, finally pushing your own ass back into the motion of his hips. He released a warm huff of breath into your ear, seemingly pleased. Thank the Maker.
"That's right."
His soft hair dusted your ear as he dipped to latch a hot kiss into your neck, pulling your head slightly aside for better access. His tongue was molten and wet against your skin, and the feeling sank straight to your core. You reeled and whined as he sucked a bruise into your throat, taking his time tasting you, his hand over your pants drawing an embarrassing volume of wetness from your aching cunt already. You dropped your hands beside you and sunk your nails into the fabric over his thighs, need overflowing from your skin and into his body.
Kylo Ren sucked a breath through his teeth and slipped the hand on your throat upwards, gripping your jaw instead and pushing the leather pad of his forefinger through your lips. You accepted it a little too eagerly, sucking it in delicately and running your tongue across the ridges in the supple material as you relished the expensive taste. He hummed and slid a second thick digit into your mouth as his lips and teeth continued to worry the tender skin of your neck, and you were sure you would bear the dark purple evidence of his possession for at least a week. You didn't care.
His ministrations had your body pliant and wanting in no time, and your thighs had involuntarily begun to relax, falling wider around each side of his lap even as the sharp edge of a control panel dug into your leg. You felt the rigid hilt of the saber on his hip as well, a sensation that paralyzed you for a moment with a new spike of fear and thrilling desire. He ascended from your neck with a sharp nip.
"So eager, lieutenant." He clicked his tongue once and landed a sharp spank straight to the mound of your pussy. It made you jump, and clench hard with a small, leather-muffled yelp. He deftly switched hands, removing his fingers from your mouth as his other hand closed around your neck. His moistened digits dipped below the waistband of your pants, and you felt his own breaths quicken underneath your shoulders, exciting you. The smooth, warm leather slid easily down your folds, drawing a gasp from you as he collected and spread your arousal. Now, this, you had definitely dreamed about before. He circled slowly across your clit, slicking it over in a motion that sparked white ecstasy through your nerve endings, and you whined pathetically.
"What would your superiors think," Kylo Ren's deep, mocking voice dripped through you as he slid one finger down to tease your entrance. Your hips bucked, trying in vain to draw him in. "If they knew what a desperate little whore you are for your commander?"
Your brain stuttered then. An involuntary smirk pulled at your lips as you conjured the image of your superior general, and how his eyes always seemed to darken when they wandered a little too far down your uniform. You didn't consider the fact that your mind was on full display to Ren before the brat center of your brain produced one clear thought.
They'd envy my commander.
You bit your tongue hard the second the thought formed, as if you could banish it with the flash of pain, hoping desperately that he hadn't read your mind. But the way that Ren’s whole body went rigid suggested otherwise. Maker damn your smart ass.
His hand fisted into your hair, wrecking your neat bun, and he wrenched your head to the side, forcing you to look up at him. Your brows knitted together in pain, but you dared not whine about it as you met his stare. His eyes were black saucers, clouded with such a tenebrous fury and lust that it made your walls flutter in time with your stomach.
"Is that so?" The ice in his voice squeezed your veins.
Gone was all that confidence that you prided yourself on in your profession, all the poise and tact and sharpness of wit. It slipped as easily as water through your fingers now as you drowned in the inky depths of his stare, fear anchoring your words to your diaphragm with no means of escape.
Ren studied you, embers flaring in the pits of those live irises, framed by the beautiful stone hearth of his face. He moved your head back and forth a bit by his grip in your hair. You winced, but your muscles might as well have been liquid, unable to resist him in the slightest. He was testing your pliancy, considering.
"Open your mouth."
There was no warmth, no tease behind the words, and as if they flowed straight into your neurons directly, you obeyed. Your jaw fell open, your pink tongue pushing slightly against the pillow of your lower lip as it rested over your bottom teeth. He spat into your mouth, holding your stare in the tight space as… Oh. He sank two thick fingers straight into your soaking core, stretching you full, holding them rooted inside you. You might as well have been vibrating.
"Swallow."
The command was deadly. You snapped your jaw shut and complied, heart thrumming with fear and a hot, blooming need originating from the delicious ache that now filled your walls but refused to move. You whined, trying weakly to shift your hips for any amount of friction on his hand, but his hold on you tightened, immobilizing you.
"Impudence will get you nothing." He uttered warningly, never breaking your stare as his fingers began to pump slowly, agonizingly inside of you. You could feel yourself dripping around him now as the ridged leather of his gloves did something delicious to your walls. "Don't you want to come, little whore?"
You were putty in his lap. "Yes, Commander, sir." You managed to groan out quietly, embracing the pain that screamed through your scalp. His plump, gorgeous lips were parted slightly, a signal of desire to underlie the tempest of his stare. You relaxed more into his grip, hoping your show of submission would drive him just a little more wild, just a little closer to... Yes.
He yanked you closer and stroked his hot tongue into your mouth in a fucking vulgar kiss that spun your brain like a top. You suppressed a sigh as the taste of him filled you, his plush lips divine and remarkably soft against your mouth as you melted into the heat of his possessive kiss. He jerked you away by your hair long before you'd had your fill of his taste, a thin string of spit connecting you as you squeaked a pathetic sound. Your disappointment was fleeting, though, because his fingers were now curling faster against a heavenly spot inside of you that was beginning to coil you tight.
"Then be good."
You sucked your bottom lip between your teeth, bit down, and nodded as well as you could with his fingers rooted into your follicles. He watched the ecstasy blossom across your face as his thumb began to pass in quick circles over your sensitive clit. A cry fell from your lips as your pleasure began to overtake you, his fingers building you towards a crescendo that threatened to split you clear in half with a galaxy between. You didn't even have to try to keep your mind blank now as he consumed your every nerve ending in rippling pleasure, and soon you were barreling towards the event horizon of climax with every stroke of his digits and every slick pass of leather over your delicate pearl of nerves. Sparks flowed like hot plasma to your extremities as your walls began to flutter tight. You whined the warning of it as your brows drew together in restraint, pleading silently for the commander to send you halfway to hyperspace with the orgasm that teetered in your core.
"That's right, cum for me, little whore." His voice was harsh and cruel and delicious and everything your reeling brain needed to send you barreling over the precipice. Your orgasm split you, blanching your vision as your walls slammed down around his fingers and you sobbed out the waves of your release. He didn't slow, drawing out your climax to an impossible length as each clench sent you spinning and wailing again. Ren groaned and cursed under his breath as he watched you come apart, leaning on the familiar edge of desperate self control as his stiff cock twitched violently under the confines of his trousers.
He slowed and withdrew his hand from your pants, allowing you to come down with shallow breaths. He brought the hand up to taste you slowly from the glistening leather of his fingers, eyes never leaving yours, and the sight made your insides combust. He hummed a low, appreciative sound before shoving the cum-slicked digits roughly into your mouth. The sweet tang of your juices flooded your senses as he sat you back up against him, such that you faced the viewport again. Impossible as it realistically was, it suddenly felt as if the entire Supremacy may as well have just watched you cum like a trained whore around Kylo Ren's fingers. The thought tickled your belly as you laved your tongue over his glove, still warm from your cunt, your body thrumming with the high of post-orgasmic ecstasy as you diligently cleaned the ridges. Your insatiable pussy clenched hard when you felt his length grind against your ass, reminding you of its presence, and you suddenly ached to be filled again. You whimpered into his hand as you rolled your hips.
"You want my cock?" His voice was ragged in your ear, hardly restrained as he fucked his bulge against you. You nodded with an obscene whine, clutching the sides of his thighs and using them as leverage to grind yourself into his throbbing length. He cursed.
"Filthy girl."
Ren released you, withdrawing his fingers from your mouth and hair, and you collapsed back against his chest, panting. He shoved at the waistband of your pants, and with a thrill, you lifted your hips as far as you could to allow him to yank them down around your thighs, panties and all.
He propped you forward slightly, bringing a hand behind you to wrestle with the clasp of his own trousers. He unleashed his cock and sat you back over it, so that it rested thickly between the flesh of your thighs, flush with the swollen line of your wet slit. You looked down and gulped. Stars, he was big. Not that you expected any different -- you'd be the first to admit that this man carried himself like he was packing. Still, you couldn't suppress a twinge of nerves as you looked down at the fat head of him, swollen beautifully at the end of a thick shaft and leaking a bead of pre cum between your thighs. He rocked his hips up, and the thick, velvety length of his cock parted your lips, coating the top of his shaft in your wetness as it slid against your tender folds.
You whined, your walls screaming to be filled, to be stretched, and you strained your pelvis down towards his dick, but the angle was all wrong for you to have any control. His glove snaked into your hair and fisted it roughly, yanking you immobile again as you gasped.
"Beg."
Your pussy throbbed, dignity a distant echo in your brain as you keened and clenched around nothing. You'd never been known to beg for anything in your life, but with the way that every nerve ending in your body felt like it was curling towards him, trying to take root, to feel him in every way possible, you were sure you'd do anything to earn his cock now.
"P-please-" it came out in a whisper, your voice absent from your chest, and he jostled you by your scalp sharply. Pain shot through your nerves, somehow only kindling the flames of need that were licking up your spine and you yelped, the roughness punching your voice back into you.
"I can't fucking hear you." He growled through his teeth, breath crackling in his throat as he fought his own restraint. The sound shot a thrill through you. Oh, you were gone.
"Ple-ase, s-sir, please f-fuck me," you moaned louder, and your voice sounded foreign through the ring in your ears. Your thighs strained against the hobble of your waistband as your body tried to spread and arch back for him like a bitch in heat. Thoroughly carried away, heady pleas continued to pour from your mouth. "I n-eed your cock in me, Com-commander, please." He huffed a pleased sound, pulling you back until his lips grazed your ear.
"Good girl."
He released your hair and gripped your hips hard, lifting you up just enough for the head of his cock to slide down towards your entrance. You found yourself pressing your palms eagerly into the seat, pushing yourself up to give your commander better access. You tipped your hips until you felt the swollen head of him perfectly align with your soaked entrance, and-- Oh, fuck.
Even thoroughly lubricated with your own cum, it was a tight fit as he began to sink you down. You whimpered as the angle forced you to take the entirety of him, struggling to relax your tight walls through your descent. You were sure you'd never taken a man nearly this big, sure that your body might break open around him, and yet you were determined to withstand his challenge. He hissed slowly through his teeth as he buried into you inch by steady inch, until you finally sat flush with his lap again, keening from the pleasant sting of complete fullness.
Ren choked on a stifled groan as you reached the hilt of him, his grip bruising your waist as he held you there for a moment. He shifted you both forward, allowing him to brace you up with his arms, and pumped his hips once slowly to test the position. The feeling of his thick cock sliding tight against your walls until it pressed your cervix was as obscene as it was delicious, and as he buried himself again, you couldn't hold back the wanton moan that tore itself from your diaphragm.
"Fuck," You heard Ren mutter raggedly behind you as he adjusted his grip. He began to rut his hips up into you at a punishing tempo, and your thoughts evaporated as his cock slammed over and over into the epicenter of your core. You cried out, voice hitching from his pace and ferocity, as you wildly clutched at the side of a control panel for stability. Somehow the pain of taking him over and over began to morph into blinding oblivion, and the viewport swam before your eyes as you lost yourself in the furious rhythm of his cock.
Ren grabbed your neck and arched you back against his chest, slowing his pace enough to allow shards of air to fight back into your starved lungs. The slower thrusts, the slick feeling of every ridge and vein of him, sent a spike of voltage through your limbs that jump started your senses again.
"Was I wrong to assume you could handle me, lieutenant?" He purred breathily as he slowed to nearly a stop, though clearly not intending to cease his torment altogether. You whined your dissent and tried to roll your hips down into him, hoping to fuck yourself on his cock, to feebly prove that you could take him. "No?" His voice dripped warm with mockery. "We'll see."
His grip anchored you fast. You gasped, almost panicking for a moment as a foreign pressure began to flit and squeeze around your clit. It wasn't his hand. One was controlling your neck, the other a vice on your hip. You didn't have much time to register the fact that he was using the Force until his hips were moving again, his cock filling you whole at a steady pace as that strange and wonderful pressure swirled faster at your bud.
Then suddenly his hand was closing like a leather serpent around your neck, slowly, expertly constricting your pulse. A primal burst of adrenaline blinded you for a moment. He could kill you. It rang between your ears, imploring you to resist, but your body was so pliant, so wholly under the spell of submission, that the thrill melted into something warmer. Something perhaps like trust, but with a much sharper edge as it cut a path through your veins. He squeezed your arteries steadily until your hearing began to fog and inky motes crossed your vision. Pressure swelled in your head, the cockpit beginning to drift away around you until all that grounded you to reality was the steady pumping of the cock inside your cunt and the Force at your clit shooting effervescent waves of pleasure into your darkening brain.
Just as the cusp of total unconsciousness began to seduce you, the pressure vanished. Ren slammed his length into you, and you gulped a massive breath of air as the Force jetted against your clit. Your orgasm crested hard, and shot you over the edge faster than you'd have ever thought possible as he held you steady and pounded into your core. You screamed as your release tore through your body in a perfect harmonic overtone to the oxygen flooding back into your brain, and the combined relief washed such a powerful bliss through your nerves that in that moment, you felt as if the very fabric of space could part for you.
"That's it, fuck, good fucking girl." Ren’s snarls were filthy and delicious in your ear as he continued to fuck you hard, the pace of his cock refusing to let your body come down from the orgasm. You keened and moaned in an incoherent stupor as he slammed up against a spot inside you that was somehow, impossibly, pushing you towards the edge again already. Another orgasm ripped through you, this one singeing your nerve endings as you felt his thrusts become unsteady. Ren bellowed through gritted teeth as he came, cock pulsing inside you while your quaking walls milked him through his release. He pumped you slowly through your aftershocks, tensing with each clench of your cunt around his oversensitive dick, until your bodies stilled in a tranquil beat of silence and shared breathing.
You didn't know at what point he had wrapped both of his arms around you, but you snapped to the realization that Kylo Ren was now holding you tight, his face buried in the crook of your neck as he came down through shuddering breaths. You blinked, slowly bringing the geometric planes of the viewport back into blurred focus, and then beyond it, the distant Supremacy.
It hung suspended like a leviathan in the void, a staunch and silent voyeur to the star-shattering sequence of undoing and accretion that you had just experienced here at the hands and cock of your inscrutable commander. You couldn't be totally sure this hadn't all been another dream, but the feeling of him now was so real, so warm, so human in the depth of his breathing and the slight dampness of his skin against yours, that you were sure no version of Kylo Ren you'd ever conjured in your dreams could feel like this.
You didn't move, didn't dare, but simply felt him encase you, afraid to break whatever spell was holding you in this moment. In a place where maybe, maybe, you could pretend that you weren't just a rank. Or a strategist, or a minuscule pawn in the grander scheme of First Order rule. Here you were a body, yes, but a body that intertwined with something beyond material. Something that laced gently with the threads of humanity behind the frozen carbonite mask of Kylo Ren, which now seemed to thaw for the smallest moment as he held you wrapped in an embrace that could almost be mistaken for tenderness.
Almost.
Your high descended on clipped wings as he finally stirred, settling colder in your stomach as he loosened his arms and you waited for whatever would happen now. He was still inside of you, and half-hard at that, but even so, you felt filled to the brim with his cum and stretched tight around him. Your body bemoaned the idea of vacancy, but if time was up, then it was up. You weren't about to push it. You started to move, shifting to lift off of him.
"No. Stay." He murmured against your neck, and you almost questioned whether your brain had shorted out and you'd misheard him. He coaxed you back against his chest with a press of his palm, and you hesitantly allowed the gentleness of it to malleate your rigid spine. Your brain misfired again as you felt the soft brush of his thumb running slowly up and down the contour of your ribs. Your pulse skipped into your throat. You didn't dare allow your body to think that this was anything akin to intimacy. You had been starved of it for so long that if you let it believe so, you might fully lose sight of the fine line you were now walking. And if you fell, it would be straight onto a saber's edge. The vibration of your body fighting against its own tension ricocheted to the walls of your pussy, and as you squeezed him slightly, you felt his cock already beginning to harden again inside you. Your breath hitched.
Kylo Ren made no acknowledgment of the exchange as he peeled his face from your neck, straightening slightly. He reached his long arms around you to grip the controls of the silencer, but didn't move the craft. He sat still. Contemplative, perhaps.
You were leaned back against his shoulder, forehead resting just by his jaw, and you dared to let your face tuck gently towards him. You waited for a reaction -- to be pushed away, for some signal that you'd overstepped. But he was still. You cautiously nestled the bridge of your nose against his neck, feeling the steady thrum of pulse there, the soft currents of breath that drifted from his nose down to trickle across your skin. You tried to memorize the warm, masculine scent of him that drifted up from his collar, magnified by body heat, stirred by the gentle tide of his breathing. Oh, how long it had been since you'd had this…
The oxytocin-riddled valleys of your mind echoed with a sudden and deadly urge to tilt up and press a soft kiss under his jaw, but a harness of fear held you still as you remembered your place, and the fragility of whatever this was. Instead, you squeezed his cock with your warmth again, a flame of lust already flickering against your belly and providing a welcome distraction from the confusion that was drawing and quartering your brain.
Ren's chest swelled with a soft "mmph" as he seemed to come out of his own trance of thought. You wondered if he'd even been listening to yours at all. He rocked his hips once, the slide of his stiffening cock making your walls leak, and you sighed. Yes. This was fine. This was simple. He pressed his hands forward, beginning to guide the craft towards the twinkling planet in no particular hurry. You gripped his thighs and rolled your hips, squeezing and riding him slowly so as not to break his concentration as he guided you both through the silent expanse of space.
Yes, it was best just to enjoy the simplicity of this. Of two bodies exorcising your respective tensions through the physical release you could pull from one another. And soon it would be over, and the chaos would resume around you, and you'd carry on like your spirits hadn't just fused like two atoms -- for a microsecond -- within a supernova of passion in the middle of space. And that was fine. That was for the best.
So you fixed yourself on that tangible goal of physical pleasure, on the rhythm of your hips, on keeping your commander nice and hard and ready for whatever he decided was next.
After the first HORRIBLE PRACTICE DAY (for Finn) of “Fighting arts”, Lyre goes looking for him and finds Finn in an embarrassing INFERIORITY situation, totally "DISARMED" by Fawn and CRYING FOR HELP; definitely Fawn is a HARD RIVAL for a fight, and that Finn found out in the WORST WAY!!
In Finn there is only one thought running through his head: "LYRE, SOME DAY I'M GOING TO RETITUTE YOU FOR THIS !!"
