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.