Chapter Text
The days of your suspension dragged by, the only indication of the passing days the red numbers on your bedside table. You had spent the first day in your bed, curled up under your covers as tears came and went. Sometimes you would be sobbing, other times you dissociated yourself completely. There wasn’t much else to do except wallow.
You had awoken on the second day by your alarm you didn’t bother turning off. You sighed as you turned it off, hitting the button a little harder than you meant to. You stared at the numbers for a moment before your gaze shifted over to the untouched bottle of Fluocenex. You contemplated taking it, just to see if it would help at all, but all you could do was stare. You just couldn’t get yourself to do anything.
You grumbled and turned over in your bed. If you were lucky, you would drift off again and the day would pass quickly. But, of course, your brain betrayed you as it buzzed with the worst thoughts about yourself imaginable. You didn’t deserve this job, it had been a huge mistake to be sent here. Nothing had felt right since you’d arrived on Starkiller. You buried your head into your blanket that soaked up the hot tears falling from your eyes.
And as you cried softly into the linen, indulging in these cruel thoughts, that familiar darkness enveloped you. It seemed that even in solitude, you couldn’t escape him: the one at the center of all your failure. His grim presence sunk into your heart and soul, creating a cocoon of shame and loathing.
You gripped your blanket tight, desperately trying to find any comfort in the vaguely soft material, but the weight in your chest only grew. The air even seemingly grew thicker, making it hard to breathe. You were practically suffocating before coming to a horrible realization.
Your door slid open suddenly.
A sharp jolt ran through you, your eyes snapping open. You let out a shaky breath at the sound of heavy boots slowly stepping into your room. This couldn’t be fucking happening. He wasn’t in your fucking room.
You shot up from your bed in a rage, absolutely furious that he had entered your space unannounced. Who the hell did he think he was? He couldn’t possibly think this was okay in any capacity. With your jaw clenched tight, you glared at him in the doorway as the door slid closed behind him.
“Get the fuck out,” you spat. He stood motionless, certainly with no intention to leave.
“You’re angry,” he said after a moment of charged silence. You huffed quickly.
“Yeah no shit,” you shot back. “I got suspended because of you. This is all because of you.” Tears began to form in the corners of your eyes as all your emotions spilled over. “Everything is falling apart, I’m falling apart and you don’t get to stand there and act like you don’t give a shit. Now get the fuck out and leave me the hell alone.”
He didn’t even flinch, your words seemed to go right through him. It was as if you were speaking to a brick fucking wall. The air in the room was suffocatingly tense, each passing second of silence only fueling your temper. You seethed, needing him to do anything, say something. Scream at you, hurt you, destroy you; anything but fucking stand there.
“Come here.”
That’s all he said, modified words cutting through the air like a blade. You scoffed incredulously, absolutely baffled by such a request. Still, the words sent a cold shiver down your spine, imagining the cruelty that would happen if you obliged. The harm he had already done was enough alone to hinder you, but thinking of what he was capable of only solidified your reluctance.
Then why did you do it?
You shuffled out of your bed slowly, feet touching the cold ground. He was calling to you, not just with his voice. It was a strong, undeniable and almost tangible pull that had you crossing the short distance between you. Your heart pounded in your ears, alarm bells sounding in your mind. But there you stood, right before the mess of black that now held your fragile life in his cruel hands.
There was a beat of silence as everything around you seemed to fade into nothing. Not even the constant hum of machinery could be heard. Only the two of you existed then, his presence fully consuming you, surrounding you from all angles in a tight embrace. It was almost…comforting, soothing your anger into a light simmer.
“You feel it don’t you?” He asked, his low voice echoing loudly in your ears. “That temptation. That urge.”
Your jaw hardened, wanting to shake your head, wanting to deny that compulsive yearn, but you just couldn’t. It was true, you did feel it, immensely stronger than you should have. Despite everything, you were still drawn to him, still constantly thinking of him. You just hadn’t let yourself accept it.
He grabbed your jaw suddenly, gloved fingers digging into your soft skin. You stumbled a bit, startled. What could have been a harsh strike instead kept you locked in place, gaze forced to his cruel mask. And you made no effort to pull away.
“I know what you want,” he started. “I know the desires you’ve buried.”
“You don’t know anything,” you said quickly. His grip tightened causing you to inhale sharply.
“I know everything.” The words bounced around in your mind, creating an unsettling sound that made you sick. What he claims to know hid in the darkest corners of your mind, places you didn’t even dare to go.
He released you quickly, the sudden lack of contact making you sway. You should run, get the hell away from him before this spirals out of control. You could already feel yourself slipping, giving into this shameful hunger he spoke of. Whatever came of this, you would surely regret, but there you stood, feet planted firmly in place with no intention to move.
“On your knees,” he commanded, the words piercing through your chest and ringing in your ears. You froze, skin flushing and setting your whole body aflame. No, you should scream, no. You shouldn’t, you wouldn’t let yourself sink that low.
But you did.
With a shaky breath, your knees met with the floor, eyes still fixed to the inhuman mask. Your limbs trembled ever so slightly, hyperaware of the compromising position you took. You were so small, so insignificant before him. Nothing but a pawn to him.
He reached out to you, trailing the side of his finger up the column of your throat and under your chin. You swallowed, the act foreign, resembling that of a comforting gesture, something you didn’t know he was capable of. Accompanying it was a soothing warmth, one that dared to chase away the last of your trepidation. And that scared you more than anything.
You tried to remind yourself of your hatred, your anger. But it was gone, or perhaps replaced by something stronger. The overwhelming heat of arousal you felt, it wasn’t entirely your own. Not only did you feel the temptation of your own desires, but you felt his. You could feel what he wanted, could feel the horrible things he wanted to do to you. It should have scared you. Why didn’t it?
He started undoing his robes, your breath halting. You knew damn well what was about to happen, you practically saw it. He craved this, thought about having you like this for days. His hunger was strong, spreading to you like a disease. It infected you to your core, clouding your mind with a passion unlike any you’ve ever felt.
Only when the rustling of cloth stopped did your eyes leave his mask, gaze shifting downwards. You found him immediately, the red, angry tip standing out against the darkness of his clothes. Your breath hitched at his size. He was big, bigger than you thought you could take. Still, your mouth watered.
Gods, what were you doing?
You glanced back up, as if the cold metal staring back would give you any answers. The striking mask only served to accelerate your heart, the organ almost beating out of your chest. Of course, you hesitated a moment, the rational side of yourself still screaming. Yet, that scream was light years away, only hearing the echo of a warning in your mind. And as you held him, lips inches away from his hard, insistent cock, that voice waned, replaced by an intense craving. A need to serve.
Your lips parted, eyes still fixed to the blank mask. Slowly, you wrapped your soft lips around him, his breath hitching from behind the metal. That little noise, one that nearly blended into the deafening silence, chased away the last bit of your hesitation. No longer did you care about consequences or regret, all you cared about was that tiny fucking sound.
Your eyes fluttered closed as you pushed your head forward, letting the weight of his cock slide over your tongue. He was so warm, so hard. The heat between your legs was akin to that of a burning star realizing how much you got to him, how hard he was just for you.
You began to move, mouth sliding up and down his long shaft as his eyes bore into you. Even from behind the slit in his cold mask, they carried an enormous weight. You imagined what they may look like, conjuring up an image of a harsh, intense gaze. You saw red irises, burning with an intense passion, like that of an all consuming inferno. The thought of those eyes on you made you shiver.
A hand placed itself on your head, fingers tangling into your hair. The soft grip guided you, encouraging you to take even more of him with each descent. You willed your throat to open for him, finding yourself desperate to feel him down your throat. He pushed his hips forward in time with his guidance, his length threatening to make you gag.
But that guiding hand changed, his fingers curling into your hair as he began snapping his hips with a new urgency. Your throat protested, struggling to accommodate the added length and vigor. An obscene, wet noise filled the area as you surrendered to his touch, allowing him to move you up and down his cock.
He only became more persistent, his grip tightening and his hips thrusting insistently. You grasped onto his robe as he pushed you to your limits, your movements now completely in his hands. Your eyes watered heavily, wetness running down your cheeks as your throat struggled.
Suddenly, with his hand on the back of your head, he shoved his entire length into your mouth. Your nose met with a patch of hair and soft skin as your eyes snapped open. A part of you panicked, startled by the sudden intrusion and by the fact you suddenly couldn’t breathe or move. You gagged around him, eyes watering and blurring your vision.
Then he released you, using the grip on your hair to pull you off quickly. You gasped for breath, coughing immediately after. Drool ran down your chin from your puffy lips as you looked up at him through half-lidded eyes, the mask still unwavering.
You should have been furious, angry that he had shoved himself down your throat like that. It was violating, demeaning, so completely wrong. But you smiled.
Wearing a soft grin, you caught your breath, a feeling of bliss washing over you. The hand in your hair moved to grip your chin, the gloved thumb wiping the wetness from your skin.
“Good,” he said simply. “Again.”
You returned to him without hesitation, now with a taste for praise and approval, a taste for him. His hand returned to your hair as you enveloped him again, his grip instantly beginning to rock you back and forth.
He repeated these motions several times, allowing you small breaks to breathe and recover. Each time you did, you would smile, eyes filled with lust. You were sure he could feel you, just as you felt him. You were sure he could feel your core throb with an intense warmth, an intense need.
At some point, something shifted. The air around you felt different, his movements aggressing. As much as your throat ached and your jaw cramped, you in no way wanted him to stop. You wanted him, all of him, everything he would give you and more. This is exactly where you belonged.
He sent his cock completely down your throat once more, stalling as he bent over you slightly. His breath caught before he grunted softly, another wonderful sound that stoked the flame in your core. You were forced to swallow hard, his hips rocking slowly as he spilled himself into you.
You could feel it, the waves of pleasure that washed over him like a tidal wave, because they crashed over you too. That burning warmth from your core spread, soothing your muscles into a relaxed state. Little noises of indulgence left you, yet muffled by him. He hadn't even touched you and yet you were reeling and moaning as if he did.
He held you there for a beat, slowly riding out the waves of his release. You had to swallow a few more times before he finally pulled you away, hand lingering in your hair. You drew in a heavy, shaky breath, eyes finding his mask once again.
He was quiet, eerily so. Not just his lack of words, but his lack of thoughts. He didn’t feel as heavy, as suffocating as before. It actually felt like you could breathe, even if just for a moment.
In his silence, he released your hair, ridding you of his touch completely. He tucked himself away slowly as a strange ache built in your chest. He was leaving.
And yet he lingered, only for a moment, standing completely still in your doorway.
“You will see me again,” he said suddenly, although it did little to soothe you. It hadn’t occurred to you that he couldn’t stay, but you understood why he couldn’t. There was a mutual, unspoken understanding, yet the pain in your chest lingered.
With a heavy heart, you watched as he turned around and left. As the door slid closed, you felt a foreign emptiness, a longing unlike anything you’ve ever felt. It physically hurt to see him leave when your body was still screaming his name.
You let yourself collapse onto the cold ground, the chill soothing to your hot skin. You stared into nothingness, realizing that your situation just got a whole lot fucking worse. It was bad enough when you hated him, but now you needed him.
And you were going to have him, no matter how much it destroyed you.