#innocuous

Strips of fluorescent light ribbed the vacant hall, white beams streaking reflections across the glossy black floor like a frozen lane of hyperspace as the urgent click of your boots perturbed the calm. The corridors of the Steadfast were all but barren this time of cycle, only disturbed by the occasional patrol of noc shift troopers trudging mechanically in unison. Devoid of the usual bustle of footsteps and orders, the static hum from the ship’s walls washed the air with a bassy din of ambient noise that might be calming, were your heartbeat not adding an anxious percussion to the silence.

You really had no reason to be awake, you should have taken your sleeping aid hours ago, but the endless scroll of patient files on your datapad had kept you up just long enough to see the alarm flash. Hardly a momentary blip, but the peculiarity of it was what propelled you from your quarters and heated your step with urgency now. Medical Bay: Intake - Officer’s Ward, it had flashed, and then disappeared just as quickly.

Tapping the access pad that led to the sequestered corridor, you waited for the door to slide open and slipped through. Needles crawled up your spine as your gaze shifted around the familiar yet eerily still hallway, which was making you nervous now for absolutely no reason. Each private room should be empty, you knew you hadn’t checked any officers in for overnight care, and you could recite your inpatient registry as if it were etched into the backs of your eyelids. Droids didn’t typically throw faulty alarms -- maybe your eyes had simply deceived you after a long and fucking exhausting day of post-mission damage control in the med bay. Echoes of that exhaustion now placed a terror within each shadowed room that you passed, something that your brain was convinced would surely jump out at you.

You stopped dead as you reached the final door, half-hoping this one was your imagination. He was still. Too still. Limbs sprawling over the edges of the cot, with haphazard bandages crossing his bare torso aimlessly. They were visibly soaked through with blood, contrasting the blanched sheen of sweat-drenched skin, a black mop of hair askew over the pillow.

A violent spike of dread lanced down your spine. You darted into the room, your medical instincts hot-starting and roaring in your eardrums as you alighted upon him with gentle precision. Two fingers flashed to the pulse point at his neck, depressing the slick, hot skin there as your frantic eyes fell to the broad rise of his chest. Pulse. Breathing. Both too shallow and fast, but present, thank the stars.

You released the held breath that was starting to burn your lungs. The alarm. What had sent it? You glanced around. Monitor wires lay scattered over the floor around the metal feet of the bed, not a single one connected. A fizzling noise behind you nearly snapped your neck as you whipped around. A nurse droid lay lifeless, crumpled and sparking against the far wall.

Oh.

You turned slowly back to the unconscious Supreme Leader, fear trickling coldly down your veins in a moment of consideration. He’d wanted to be alone.

Your mind suddenly supplied you with an image of yourself in place of the droid, bones crunched like scrap metal against the wall, eyes glazed, life flickering and dying in the fried wires of your veins. How easy it would be -- effortless, even -- For him to crush the life out of you with little more than a flick of his wrist. How… maybe that knowledge made you tingle, just a little.

You derailed that train of thought with a sharp shake of your head as your eyes flicked across his battered torso and up the column of his neck, settling on the tranquility of his face. Bruised and bloody as it was, he looked… peaceful. Freckles and moles dusting his skin like starry kisses to soothe the ache of battle. His features, always chiseled from the sternest isoform of marble, now softened in sleep. Suspended in a paradoxical state of youthful serenity even as his body worked in overdrive just to tether him to life. He was… just a man. And he was absolutely beautiful.

Maybe you stared at him, just a little longer than you should, before committing to your courage and snatching an antiseptic cloth. If one of you was going to die, at least you were the more replaceable option. And this was what you’d signed up for, wasn’t it? To serve the First Order, even perhaps at the expense of your life. For… the greater good, or something. Yeah. Higher purpose and all that. You were a good medic, and good medics were selfless. It definitely wasn’t because you, perhaps, didn’t mind entertaining the thought of those large hands around your neck, squeezing...

Fucking focus.

Expertly, delicately, you began to peel back the blood-soaked evidence of his attempt to self-bandage, baring the flesh of his torso. Stars, he was magnificent. Glistening skin lay taut over lean muscle, a finely-tuned war machine sculpted by years of hard training, evident even in the depths of sleep. The subtle ripple of his muscles expanding and contracting with each breath spread that insistent tingle through your lower belly as you meticulously swiped the blood and sweat from his body.

Your hands danced to the pace of your heartbeat. Quick and steady, as you tossed the cloth and fitted a needle onto a syringe tip. A light pinch of his skin here, so that he wouldn't feel the prick of the shot there. Pure habit, not that a small needle stick would hold a candle to his injuries in terms of pain. But you didn’t really want him waking up just yet. You pushed the plunger down to administer a microdose of bacta. Just enough to hotwire the healing process, without dulling sensation.

You'd mused privately to yourself on more than one occasion, that you thought he liked to feel the pain. Whether it was a show of control, or an exercise in self-punishment, you couldn’t say. But you'd learned early on, working here, never to bring a pain suppressant around the former Commander.

Maybe no one else had ever picked up on that, because it seemed you were the only person he ever allowed near him with a bandage. You didn't mind. Nor did you mind the way his eyes always followed you quietly as you worked, as you'd gently cleanse his wounds from the battles and conquests that he fearlessly led as the new Supreme Leader of the First Order. You certainly liked him better than the last one. You thought maybe Ren even liked the way your fingers would subtly worship his figure with every quiet and efficient pass of gauze. Maybe he knew where those fingers ended up later. Sick bastard. A smirk tugged the corner of your lip.

His arm was hanging over the edge of the cot, a cautery pen still held loosely in his bloodied fingers. You sighed, removing the device, and picked his arm up to lay it neatly by his side. The weight of it caught your breath in your chest, the solid and heavy cord of muscle dwarfing your hands.

You quickly shook away the distraction, seating yourself on the bedside stool and turning to your most immediate concern: The deep, ripped laceration that bled from his lower abdomen. Vibroblade, you’d wager. It was oozing around the half-cauterized flesh, ugly and red from where he'd clearly begun to try and solder himself shut. You gently placed the cauterizer on the bedside stand. A crude tactic, and not one you would settle for, you decided as you retrieved a sterile suture pouch instead. Preparing another antiseptic cloth and gauze for the blood, you hovered back over the wound.

A realization started to echo along the tunnel of your focus, and the walls crashed away with a thump of your heart as you stared at Ren's flank beneath you, where his breathing had notably deepened and steadied. Your hands froze as your eyes shifted up the planes of his torso, cold spines gouging your chest as you reached his face. His eyes were open, fixed calmly upon your own stare, a flush restored to his full, pouted lips. Ice shattered in your veins.

"S-supreme Leader, I-” You dropped your materials onto the mattress, “You- you want to b-be alone, I'll j-just-" you were stammering, pushing your seat back, brain vibrating with panic. This was it. You escaped now, or you were joining the droid.

You made it about halfway to standing when a hand cinched on your wrist, arresting your movement. Your breath halted as you snapped back around, your heartbeat slamming in your throat.

Something boiled up behind his irises then, trapped so fiercely under the tempered surface of his eyes that his jaw locked tight and his chin quivered slightly with the strain of it. Your brain began to scramble. The look held an unmistakable need, a plea that said, so deafening in its silence, Stay.

You carefully held his gaze as you began to sink back down onto the small seat beside the bed. Your hand was trembling under his grip, every drop of air evaporating in your lungs as his pleading eyes burned through you. You slowly let yourself sit until your weight rested fully on the stool again.

Ren’s body slackened, releasing the air back into the room, and his head dropped back onto the thin pillow in a flutter of raven locks. His eyes drifted shut as a breath rolled through his nose and deep into his chest.

His grip had eased around your wrist, enough for your brain to now register the pleasant warmth of his enormous hand as it softly enveloped the lower part of your forearm. The sensation dumbfounded you for a moment as you stared between your arm and your Supreme Leader's face. The muscles in his brow twitched over his closed eyes as several more controlled breaths seemed to forcibly banish something from his body.

You came back to yourself as a trickle of dark blood drew your gaze back down to his abdomen, where it painted a river over bruised flesh before falling down his side to soak crimson sunbursts into the white sheet. You cautiously twisted your wrist free, and he let his hand drop softly back to the sheet without resistance. Hesitantly, you ran a hand across his skin, next to the gaping wound, inspecting the separated flesh. Firm muscles bunched under your touch, tugging at the ragged edges and inspiring another pulse of fresh red. You studied his face as his lashes lifted open again to meet your eyes. It took you a moment to find your breath.

"I... need to close this," you breathed, tracing a featherlight and completely instinctive touch of reassurance over his intact skin near the wound. He chewed the inside of his lip.

"Do it."

Your belly fluttered at the low command, his eyes never wavering from your gaze. You swallowed. Standing slowly to bend over his abdomen, you studied the open section of the wound. The edges were relatively clean, and it didn't look like the blade had made it deep enough to hit anything vital. The bleeding was nasty though, despite your meticulous cleaning job. His skin here would naturally be taut over firm abdominal muscles, a high tension area, you noted. You’d need to place dermal sutures if you wanted them to hold. Your brow knitted in preemptive sympathy.

“This is going to hurt.” You muttered.

Well, perhaps that was obvious. But stitching up conscious patients was not exactly your area of expertise, so maybe in a way, you were preparing yourself more than him. You were surprised at how well you managed to withhold the tremor from your hands as you quickly cleaned the wound again. It steeled your resolve slightly.

You tossed the soaked gauze, and plucked a curved needle and sinewy thread from the sterile bag. You readied your hand over the cleansed wound and flashed your gaze up to Kylo Ren’s eyes, waiting for... well, you didn’t know. Any kind of final approval or declination, maybe. He said nothing, but his eyes burned you steadily as his jaw locked in place, making the tightness in your chest flutter and twist. Swallowing, you turned back to the half-closed gash. You quickly threaded the first set-back stitch with nimble precision, and tugged the edges closed.

Ren’s muscles locked up with a full-body grunt, and a broad hand shot up from where it lay on the bed to grip the inside curve of your thigh. A jolt leapt through your body, setting your heart at a wild pace. Surely that was just a reflex. Surely he would let go. Blinking, you tried to find the voice in your chest.

"You… you have to r-relax." It came out more breathless than you intended as you fumbled only slightly with tying and cutting the thread. You paused to steady yourself, ignoring how warm your skin felt under his hand. A deep breath rolled through the Supreme Leader, and to your utmost shock, his core slackened obediently.

His hand did not leave your thigh. You took a breath and forced yourself to continue, fingers curling to pierce and thread the next suture through the tender, deep layer of skin. A lower, longer vibration left Ren’s nose as his large fingers gripped tighter into the soft pillow of your flesh. Your breath came shallow as your brain ignited, trying not to file that noise away under the category of pleasure. No. Stop that. You refused to indulge the thought, or the warmth that it shot through your lower body, as you refocused on your work.

You fixed your eyes firmly on your target, not letting yourself meet his gaze again. The next few sutures were accompanied by sounds from Ren that you diligently ignored. If you acknowledged what they sounded like, your focus would be obliterated. It already half was. But the growing hum at the apex of your thighs could not be indulged, could not break your concentration, even if it was just above where his hand… Oh.

Oh.

His thumb traced the slowest line along the crease of your groin.

It was impossible not to notice the stiffness that was beginning to tent his pants, close to where your face hovered over his lower abdomen. A shiver caressed your spine at the sight, as all of the heat in your body began to gravitate to the heartbeat in your cunt. You swallowed thickly. Stars help you, the sight of him. Supreme Leader Kylo fucking Ren, laying underneath you, his cock getting hard as you caused him excruciating pain. And you… you fucking... liked it.

His hand shifted then, sliding upwards to press a single, precise stroke along the concealed line of your heat. “Oh-” The soft moan came unwillingly from the bottom of your chest, and you braced one hand out on the mattress as your knees turned to liquid. Your body responded so automatically that it made your head spin, your thighs shifting wider, inviting his touch. You could have passed out when he curled his hand to pet another slow stripe over your clothed slit. 

Panting now, you lifted a pleading stare to meet his eyes. They were hooded black vats of desire, and your heart dropped right through your cervix as they drank you in. Your face tingled hot. Your brain wobbled along the line between finishing your task, and the primal need that was erupting through your belly. Either way, you couldn’t bring yourself to tell him to stop.

“Supreme Le-”

"Off." He interrupted lowly, pinching at the fabric of your pants. You weren't sure why you obeyed so fucking immediately, but before you could think, your thumbs were hooking into your waistband, and then you were stepping out of your boots, trousers, and underwear, kicking them carelessly across the floor. The tails of your white coat tickled your exposed skin as you positioned yourself back over his wound, wet cunt bared and leaking down your thighs. Cheeks burning with a heat that reached all the way down to your chest, you pointedly avoided his eyes. You tried to steady your hands, and you swore you could feel his gaze stoking a wildfire at your core. You swallowed, staring detachedly at your fingers.

No, the medic instinct in you wouldn’t allow you to leave your work half finished. If you had the wherewithal to think about it, you might have concluded that he knew this, but that didn’t mean he would hold back in making it as difficult as possible for you now that you were, well, in this state. Taking a breath, you threaded another stitch. This time he shamelessly groaned, and his fingers slipped easily through the silky heat of your slit. You gasped, almost doubling over again as you tied off the suture.

You finally looked at him. His nostrils were flared and his throat bobbed, as he watched his own long fingers collect the wetness that leaked from your core. Pleasure and shame waged war across your skin, and your knees went weak as he met your eyes again.

“Keep going,” he stated calmly, gesturing with only his eyes towards the wound that was now nearly shut.

“Fuck,” you whispered, eliciting a hiss of breath from the Supreme Leader as his fingers passed in a slow arc around the top of your stiff clit.

How you managed it, you had no idea, but in very little time you were looping the last thread over itself, tightening it, and cutting. You blinked, looking back along the neat line of sutures as Ren continued idly stroking at your slit, sending shocks down to your toes.

“D-done.” You stammered as you shuffled your supplies together and started to step back.

With a flash of rippling muscle, Ren sat up and captured the back of your neck, pulling you in just inches from the strong curve of his nose. Your materials clattered to the floor as your legs nearly buckled from the sudden weight of his proximity, his gaze pitching you in an inky black tide of lust.

“Gentle little thing,” he pondered, running a thumb under your jaw. Your lungs simply didn’t function any more, you decided, as heat chased the air from the bottom of your bronchioles and out into the space between you. “I’ve wondered about you.”

Your voice hiccuped dumbly in your chest. “Ab-bout me, S-supreme Lead- oh.” Your question hung unfinished from your slack jaw as the pad of his finger shifted wetly across your clit, shooting a liquid flame up your spine that burst in your brain.

“Mm,” he supplied in acknowledgement, his lust-blackened gaze all but swallowing you whole. “Such a pretty thing...” Heat flowered in your cheeks again. “So unassuming.” He slid two fingers down your slick folds towards your entrance, and the delicate stem of a whimper crawled from your throat.

“You want to let go.” He stated in a deep, near-whisper. “Don’t lie to yourself, officer, I can feel your need for it.” You shuddered. Absolutely you wanted to let go. You wanted to do a lot of things, but mostly anything that would elicit those sounds that he was making before, while you punctured his dermis with a curved fucking needle.

“Yes, Supreme Leader.” Your voice seemed far away in your own ears.

The hand around the back of your neck curled slowly until it tightened into the hair follicles at your nape, and the pinpricks sent a thrilling voltage through your nerves that made you gasp.

"Just as I thought," he hummed, the smallest hint at a smirk twitching on the corner of his mouth. “Your desires are far from innocuous.” The lust that thickened his voice had you clenching.

He held your hair tightly, the pain scraping down your spine and feeding heat into the coiling, writhing need that hummed above your thighs. He began to lean back and pull you with him, until you had to shuffle your knee onto the mattress to keep from falling. His hand abandoned the wet heat between your legs, and a solid arm slid impatiently around your waist instead, pulling your hips firmly over him until you straddled his lap on the generous cot.

The feeling of his clothed, straining cock nestling against your folds chased a whine over your lips, and Ren caught it in its tracks, drinking down the sound as his plush lips claimed your open mouth. Fire exploded through your body and your hands flew to his chest, sliding up over hot, bruised skin until your nails were dragging up his neck and into the inky softness of his hair. A deep growl quaked in his chest and his tongue slid greedily across the roof of your mouth, coaxing your jaw wider for him.

You felt his hands slide to grasp the lapels of your coat and yank them over your shoulders. With a thrill of excitement, you threw your arms back to allow him to shuck the garment roughly from your body. Your shirt followed over your head, forcing you to surface from the depths of the kiss with a vulgar wet sound. The second you were free, his massive hand trapped your wrists behind your back, and you gasped at the sudden feeling of immobility. Kylo Ren pinned you under his dark gaze, pulling your arms to arch your back and press your tits up towards him, his eyes devouring the bareness of you that he displayed for himself.

Then he lunged. His hot mouth latched into your neck and worked down to your chest, his strong grip arching you further until his lips pursed around your pebbled nipple. Your jaw fell open in a gasp as he slid his tongue across the bud and drew it between his teeth, pinching just hard enough to leave it aching, and mirrored the action on your other breast. He hummed as he moved back up to lick wet, open-mouthed kisses along your jaw, sliding along your skin until you felt hot breath flood the sensitive hollow of your ear.

“I wonder how you taste, pretty thing.”

The sound that left you was fucking obscene, his words dissolving every bone in your body. You instinctually ground down on his swollen cock, seeking pressure lest your cunt actually rupture with need.

He began to lay back, his hands releasing your wrists, and your strained muscles flooded with relief. Clutching your thighs, he pulled your hips insistently to follow his face back to the head of the cot. A nervous tremor wracked you as he guided your thighs over his shoulders, the realization crashing over you all at once. You were about to sit on the face of the most dangerous man in the fucking galaxy. He closed his eyes and pressed his nose to your mons, inhaling deeply and releasing a growling moan that vibrated right up your body.

A deep magenta bruise flowered his temple and cheekbone, decorating the seam where the flesh of your thigh now ended and his face began. Your core clenched in anxious anticipation, and he turned his face to sink his teeth into the tender flesh of your thigh. Remnants of fear were still paralyzing your chest, but the bolt of pain that flashed up your body pierced through it and into your brain for a moment of blissful clarity. You moaned as you suddenly registered just how much pulsing heat was settling inside your walls, aching now to be soothed by his tongue. He ran his hands down your sides and gripped your hips, and he leveled a dark look up at you that liquefied your bones.

"Please…" you began to whisper.

In a flash, he took your hands and pinned them to the small of your back, then thrust his warm, flat tongue against your cunt with a low groan. Your mouth fell open in a silent cry as he licked a wide stroke up the length of your slit, parting your folds and dragging the flat of his tongue across your swollen nub. Tingling pleasure erupted through your lower body, the feeling of him warm and divine and utterly unbelievable. He moved slowly, almost lazily, lost in the taste and scent of you as he began to work that beautiful mouth over every inch of your cunt.

You shifted your hips in desperation, trying to ride his face and gain more friction on the ache that was coiling in your clit, but he locked your arms up roughly, immobilizing you with one of his huge hands around both of your wrists. You whined and he resumed his torturous pace, lapping at you indulgently, rolling his nose across your clit, building a hot pressure in your core that cried painfully for release.

When his lips finally pursed around your bud, his tongue sliding across it in a way that shot light behind your retinas, it was enough to send you reeling. “Oh, fuck-” you groaned as you felt your orgasm start to pull up tight and hot, your body desperately grasping at its relief.  But then it was plateauing, ebbing, as he slowed and slid his silky tongue away from that epicenter of pleasure.

“No, pl-please, please--” you wailed as you felt your impending orgasm slip away down your spine.

Ignoring you, Ren closed his eyes and swallowed with a grunt, sucking down the arousal that had gushed from your entrance, and you felt it travel through his whole body as he went rigid. He shuddered in consummate pleasure then, and your brain suddenly shifted from grieving your denied orgasm to wondering where his other hand might be. You imagined it wrapped around his own cock, and the thought tightened heat around your spine.

You craned a glance over your shoulder, but the sight that met you paralyzed your brain. His cock was free of his trousers, beautifully hard and leaking a bead of precum onto his stomach, untouched. His fingers were instead plunged into the neat line of sutures that studded his low abdomen, fresh crimson welling around his pressure-whitened fingertips as his body trembled. A protest shot instinctively through your chest. 

“Don’t-”

Two huge hands hooked over your thighs, smearing you with red, and yanked your ass back onto the warm, broad expanse of his chest, cutting off your objection with a breathy yelp. You had little time to bemoan the absence of his mouth at your center before your world was spinning, as Ren flipped you underneath him in a shockingly strong, fluid motion that inverted your senses.

You flailed an arm behind you for balance, but before you could get your bearings, he was hauling you effortlessly down the thin mattress by your hips. A squeak escaped you as your shoulders met linen, and then you were wailing as he devoured you again, his eager tongue sliding hot and heavily down your folds. 

He groaned and slipped two blood-drenched fingers into you, pumping and scissoring them slowly as he massaged your clit with his mouth. Shock and pleasure quaked in equal magnitude through your body, every instinct clashing in a spectacular array as your brain fought against itself. You wanted to be horrified, sickened even, but every nerve ending was screaming in nothing but wretched liberation.

In a wash of euphoria, you submitted to it, let your fingers find and lock into his sweat-dampened hair, let yourself sigh and clench around his warm, wet digits as they stroked against something devastating inside of you. He built you up like this again, higher, tighter, but before you could reach the apex of that perfect ache, just when you were whimpering with the promise of shattering into bliss, something began to coil around your spine. An invisible force -- the Force -- squeezing dark numbness down every nerve below your lumbar spine.

No, no, fuck. Tears rushed to your eyes and you choked out a sob, as you trembled in excruciating bereavement. Your wrists were wrenched to your side and tacked to the bed with that same invisible power while Ren continued to indulge himself in your numb cunt, sucking and lapping steadily at your wet heat. Your insides blazed with need and neglect as you watched him slide his fingers out of you and into his mouth, humming in satisfaction as he savored the mixture of his blood and your slick. That was it. You couldn’t keep quiet.

“Kylo, please-”

His eyes locked onto yours, lips still pursed around his fingers. You did not mean to call him that. You quailed suddenly, in your state of helplessness, at the sight of the large man as he began to crawl over you. He kicked off his trousers, looming until you were caged underneath his powerful body and staring helplessly up into the wicked excitement that roiled in his irises.

“Poor, poor thing,” He taunted as an electric current of sensation shot back down your legs, causing you to yelp. His hips rocked to part your slit with the velvety weight of his cock, his swollen and weeping head dragging moisture across your clit as it tingled with renewed feeling.

“So desperate to cum that you’d forget all respect for me.” The words dripped from his lips to pour over your neck as he nipped above your clavicle, seeping into your blood and heating it tenfold. He felt heavy and inviting and perfect, and you clutched your nails sharply into his sides as a crippling wave of need crashed down your spine. He hissed in a breath, letting it out in a nearly inaudible “Fuck.”

A tear spilled down your cheekbone. He was right, you were absolutely fucking desperate, coiled painfully tight after being ripped back from the edge twice. This was his particular brand of mutual torture, denying your release and losing himself in his pain. You needed to do something, anything, to fracture that infuriating, adamantine control. Anything to break the endless cycle of torment.

Your eyes were drawn down to a river of crimson that streaked into the valley of his hip, welling from the fresh spring of your sutures. A writhing, dark desire slithered up your brain stem, burning with some foreign audacity, and it moved your hand almost on its own. Fuck it, you could play this game, too. 

“Please, Supreme Leader,” You corrected yourself, letting your voice thicken through your tears to a noxious sweetness. “I’ll do anything.” 

Your palm slid to his low abdomen, collecting the warm blood with your thumb and sliding it back up towards the neatly closed wound. You slowly ran your slick digit along the raw edge, your breath catching in your chest as you flicked your gaze back to his eyes, just inches in front of yours. His lips hung open slightly, in disbelief, in want, it was impossible to say. But his pupils were blown wide and hungry as he stilled, the smallest twitch of his eye daring you, pleading you, to continue.

“Anything…” you emphasized in a whisper, holding his stare through your damp lashes as you pressed your thumb into the bruised, inflamed skin, crushing your finger straight into the raw nerves. You dug down, down, watching his lips slowly pull into a wild snarl of pain, his thick cock twitching against your folds as a ragged groan tore through his teeth. You were panting now, watching his eyes as they filled with liquid black fire, unblinking, burning through you.

Heart pounding, you pressed further, building a pinpoint of pressure over the closed wound until you felt the fine strand of a suture give way under the pad of your thumb, popping open with a soft shift of flesh. A choked roar ripped itself from Ren’s chest as his hand came down on your throat. His eyes were glazed with a terrifying need, inches from yours, strands of hair beginning to mat on his face as sweat decorated his skin.

His hips began to sink heavily. The head of his cock pushed past your folds, pressing insistently at the tight heat of your entrance. You whimpered, pulse racing under his grip, and braced your hand involuntarily against his abdomen as your walls began to stretch, the wet sting reverberating up your spine. Your eyes shot to his, pleading, but found them fiendish.

"You’re going to take all of me, pretty thing." His voice was barely above a ragged whisper, caged behind rusted bars of restraint that were slowly splintering across his eyes as he broke you open. “And you’re going to cum around my fucking cock when I tell you to.”

It was all you could do to simply whimper and nod, his words paired with the intense stretch effectively wiping your brain blank now. And the stretch kept coming, endlessly, filling you completely, until you thought you might crack in half. When he finally sheathed himself, his body flattened down heavily on top of you, pinning your hips wide open. You couldn’t move your hand, his sheer mass was crushing your thumb inside the wet, raised flesh of the wound as you felt it leak warmly around the base. A sound caught in Ren’s throat, and a shudder wracked his whole body.

He laid there for only a moment, crushing the air from your lungs, bathing in the pain, before he lifted his torso and began to thrust. Still slowly, still so controlled, breath rolling hot and rabid down your neck. You pulled your thumb from beneath his skin with a sickening squelch. Trembling, a morbid urge had you bringing the hand up to your mouth.

You moved to flick your tongue out over the warm, coppery liquid that was now coating your thumb and beginning to run down your forearm. In an instant, Ren snatched your wrist and pinned it beside your head. Something utterly feral played across his eyes that made your stomach squirm.

He panted through his teeth, eyes drifting across your face to the hand that he had pinned down. “You want a taste, whore?” His tone was somewhere between incredulous and eager, only fueling your desire to pry further at the seams of his restraint. You bit your bottom lip, lifting a pleading look into his eyes, and nodded with a whimper.

“Yes, please, ple-- Ah!” He slammed his cock into your cervix, making you cry out.

He snatched your wrist up with a grunt and enveloped your thumb with the heat of his mouth, swirling his strong, silky tongue around your knuckle to collect the liquid. Your head spun as he drew his lips up and off of your digit, slamming your wrist back down to the mattress and crushing his mouth to yours. His tongue pushed ravenously past the guard of your teeth, and your palette lit up with the sharp mix of metallic blood and the remnants of your cunt on his lips.

It was deafening, the rush that cascaded between your ears and crashed down your body at the visceral taste, the sensation of his hot tongue swiping across yours, passing the grotesque mixture back and forth. You moaned into his mouth and he shuddered, gripping your jaw muscles to force your mouth open as he drew away, resuming the rhythm of his thrusts. He spat a thick emulsion of blood and saliva into your open mouth before releasing your face, shoving your jaw closed with the heel of his palm. From this angle he could see your neck ripple as you swallowed, and the sight had him deepening his thrusts with a low groan.

Yes, yes, finally. His cock stroked fire along your walls, the sensation of fullness making your eyes roll into your skull. Drunk from deprivation, you wanted more. You blindly reached down the contour of his obliques and drove your thumb back into his wound, finding the slight firmness of another suture and digging into his flesh until you felt a sinewy pop. Kylo Ren roared, his hips stuttering as his body locked up in a rippling wave of tension. Eyes wild, he gripped your throat again, yanking you roughly as your eyes flew open and met his.

“Fucking filthy slut.”

He slammed into you at a merciless pace, hurtling you past any possibility of orgasm and straight into overstimulation as your body burned around him. Your vision swam, your ears beginning to ring as he pounded you relentlessly. Blood struggled to reach your brain under his grip, building a pressure in your skull that made your face vibrate.

He slowed his pace suddenly, and heat sparked to the tips of your nerves again, alighting on every inch of your quivering skin and fuck, you were close. Oh, fuckfuckfuc--

“Cum. Cum for me. Fuck!”

Ren wildly snatched the cautery pen from where you left it on the bed stand, lit it, and plunged the glowing tines straight into the flesh of your thigh. White hot pain fractured your vision, locked every muscle down tight with a scream you couldn’t hear as your orgasm eviscerated you.

Breath stuttered back into your lungs in hazy, broken sobs. Euphoric pain was weeping from your nerves, flowing across your skin to rival the tears that now ran free and hot down your face while razorblades of pleasure still flayed your veins open. The ringing in your ears finally began to give way to low grunts breaking over the fragmented tide of your sobs.

“Good girl, g-ood, fuck-- shh... pretty fucking thing.” Ren’s deep murmurs faded into your eardrums, the words slurring and thickening through his teeth as he pried the tool from your sizzling flesh. He set it aside, pace unrelenting, and dragged a hand over your cheek. Sticky blood mixed with your tears as his fingers fastened into the flesh of your face. He watched your eyes come back into focus, his own glazed in primal rapture.

He propelled a few more slamming thrusts into the depths of you as the death throes of your orgasm withered on your skin. And then you were empty, gasping, and he was flipping you over so easily you didn’t know which way was up any more. Your breath was muffled by a pillow, and you turned your face just in time for a massive, dirty hand to come down on your cheekbone.

He crushed your face into the fabric, wrestling your hips upwards with his other forearm until your knees reluctantly shifted up to support them. You whimpered at the pressure on your skull and the throbbing pain that radiated from your thigh, but the sound deepened in your chest when you felt the blunt head of his cock graze along your swollen lips. Stars, you needed him to fill you in any way, your emptiness now entwining with your pain to send a cry of grief through your shuddering bones that could only be soothed by that voice, those hands, that perfectly thick cock in any part of you. Overcome, you moaned for it.

“Fuck,” he rasped, dragging his tip back and forth over your clit, adding skittering jolts to the ache that might as well be burning away your peritoneum like paper, causing your organs to pour out over the floor in gruesome mercy. He slid his hand back along the curve of your spine, releasing your face, and you gasped in the acrid taste of copper. His palms smothered your ass, fingers splaying wide and squeezing, pulling your cheeks up and apart for his view. It was filthy, the eroticism of it, but shame was a faraway song in the tempest of your need, barely heard as you clutched the sheets and arched in presentation for him. You heard a hissing intake of breath, which he let out in a slew of unintelligible filth as the fat head of his cock slowly split you again.

Even after just moments of vacancy you had to readjust to the size of him, but the stretch was utterly demulcent this time as he gradually sheathed himself in your aching walls until his head was grinding down against your cervix. Your eyes flew wide with a gasp as you clawed the sheet, streaking it redder, willing your body to relax around the merciless presence of his cock. He pumped his hips once, slowly, powerfully, and your eyes rolled back again as your muscles turned to warm jelly.

“Kylo…” You barely heard yourself moan out, and you had no idea whether he heard you either, as a loud groan suddenly kicked up his pace and the decibels of his rambling.

“Ffffuuck, feel sofuckinggood, so tight…. fucking perfect little cunt…”

You could die, you could actually fucking die from how it felt to lose yourself in this, how possessed you were by the repulsive freedom of it, of him, spitting filthy nothings into the thick air while you entwined yourselves in the dirty rut of shameless pleasure and pain.

You felt hot liquid trickle into the seam between your flesh and Ren’s with the next few smacks of his hips against your ass. His pace faltered, and he fell over you like a snarling carnivore, palms slamming down on the backs of your hands and pinning them beside your head. His breath tickled hot in your ear, and you shuddered, clenching around him.

“I’m going to make you cum again.” He snarled, before yanking you back sharply by your hair until you were nearly upright on your knees, your shoulder blades meeting the warmth of his chest. You caught a flash of blood-coated fingers as they reached around you and began to rub hot, wet circles over your clit.

“Like the filthy fucking whore you are. That I- fuck- knew you were.”

Your muscles gave out as he spoke, your body supported only by his overbearing strength, as euphoria wrapped your nerve endings in white flame. You were keening, though you could hardly hear yourself, as the pressure on your clit started to pull a second orgasm outward from your bones.

His hips pounded ruthlessly against your ass as he brutally fucked you, the force of it knocking air from your lungs with every impact. A glow began to erupt from your spine with the next few passes of his fingers over your clit, and then you were cumming, hard, sailing into an abyss of ecstasy that swallowed your sight. When you resurfaced he was roaring, his arm a vice around your ribs, his cock slamming deep and slow inside of your quaking walls and pulsing with his release. 

Ren collapsed on top of you, flattening you into the mattress. Dizziness swam through your blood, intensified by his weight crushing your lungs. He felt warm, sated, absolutely sublime as your spent hole fluttered around his cock, the sensation of his damp breaths on your shoulder easily overriding your need for oxygen. You were perfectly content to lay like this until you blacked out, if that’s what it would take to keep him there.

But then he was rolling off of you, a soft groan rumbling through his body as the cold air of the room kissed the sweat on your spine. It sobered you like an ice bath and you shifted away from him, suddenly feeling the weight of a needed distance between yourself and the Supreme Leader. You dropped your legs to the floor to stand, and pain ricocheted up your body from your thigh. You winced as your leg buckled in a blatant refusal to support your weight, catching yourself on the edge of the bed frame.

You instead sank back onto the small stool, and felt it become slick with cum as you grabbed wads of gauze from a drawer in the bed stand. Blood was gushing from his abdomen again, joining the sheen of bright red that mottled most of his skin as well as the sheets, and you began to work mechanically to staunch the flow once more. Kylo shifted onto his back and let you do it, his eyes falling shut as panting breaths oscillated through his chest. You were filthy, you registered, as you looked down at the red-brown crust of half dried blood that was smeared on your hands and all the way up your forearms.

You gently dabbed at his skin, slowly cleansing the mess and wrangling the bleeding back under your practiced control. The edges of your skin practically cried out in neglect, the dull pain that thrummed through your body begging to be soothed by even the smallest of tender touches that you didn’t dare ask for. The pain seemed to catch up to him as well now. He breathed through it, but you saw it lock up in his exhales, in the tense pull of his brow over his dark lashes. You let the pass of his skin under your palms soothe you both until his bare skin glowed clean and the bleeding was no more than a steady trickle.

Staring at his comparatively clean body under your blood-crusted hands, you suddenly felt disgustingly exposed in your nakedness. You stooped quickly to grab the leg of your pants where they lay on the floor, but Ren’s hand gripped your arm roughly, yanking your elbow back onto the stained mattress.