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Peep Show

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“Just try it!”

Your cheeks flush and you wave your hand to silence your bunk mate, Otta from across the breakfast table. “Shh! Are you nuts? I could lose my job!” Your gut sank as you looked around, making sure none of your immediate colleagues heard you. “Or he could kill me.”

Otta rolled her eyes twirling her fork between her fingers. “Oh my gods, y/n, relax! Stop acting like you’re the only one who would get freaky with the commander,” she lowered her voice, using her fork to low-key gesture around “You AREN’T the only one who’s seen him with his mask off,”

You remember that day. A rogue blaster shot that ricocheted down the eastern hallway clipped his respirator and he pulled it off right then and there. You were passing through to your station and when you saw him, his luscious hair and sweet honeyed eyes, nose and cheeks dotted with beauty marks, you dropped your data pad.

“Yeah, but you forgot the part where I made a fool of myself,” you mumble.

“So you fell on your face, so what? He probably thought it was cute.”

“He called me a bumbling idiot,”

“He picks on you because he likes you.”

You frown. Despite what Otta was saying, you wish it hadn’t happened. It left you red in the face for weeks, unable to even look at his mask when he walked down the hall. You also wish you hadn’t told Otta about the dream you had last night.

“So tell me about this dream again,”

She wouldn’t stop asking.

You sink down in your chair, “Otta, lower your voice!” you hiss.

Otta giggled, tapping her toes against the tile, hunching her shoulders, “Just cut to the part where he keeps the glove on,”

You drop your fork, putting your face in your hands. What a nightmare.

“I’m just kidding, y/n.” Otta forks more food in her mouth. “But really, just try it.”

She wanted you to think about it, on purpose. Loudly, if that was even possible. The thought made your heart go cold. The commander Kylo Ren in your head on purpose, watching your filthy fantasy.

“But don’t think too much, you know? You know, when he scans the room looking for—abnormalities, just…” she waved her fork again, “throw him a bone.”

You pull your hands down off of your face, dragging your cheeks. “Yeah, but remember Siala? Haven’t seen her in a while, have you?”

If you remember correctly, Siala was an avid admirer of Kylo Ren. After she got caught day-dreaming, no one has seen or heard from her since. However, reports leaked from General Hux’s desk suggested she was ‘disposed of accordingly’.

Otta shrugged, chewing her food, “She wasn’t as cute as you though,” she mused.

That may have been true. But it’s been so long, you could hardly remember what she looked like in the first place.

“Besides,” Otta returned to eating, “the whole department knows the commander’s soft on you.”

That was one time! And he wasn’t soft on you, he just didn’t Force-choke you when you accidentally stumbled into him. You really should invest in the correct size boot. 

“Stop–!” you pause, volume-checking yourself as a few other officers walked by your table. “talking me into this! You’re going to get me killed!”

Otta leaned in, stretching out her words, “Just….try it.” She whispered. “You’ve got nothing to lose. Except maybe your life, but if it goes well?” she raises her eyebrows suggestively. “Bah,” she sat back in her seat and sets her fork down on her tray, “you’ll probably do it without thinking anyway.”


  You hated it when Otta was right.

As you were sitting at your desk, the image of Kylo’s eyes, his real eyes, staring up at you from in between your legs passed behind your eyelids when you blinked. You looked around. Everyone was still busy, even Otta who was sitting a few people down from you.

Taking a deep breath you sit back in your seat, closing your eyes for a moment, rubbing your eyelids. With your eyes away from the screen, you slipped again. He was close, gripping your hair and pulling it back. Looking down at you, he licks his lips, drawing a deep kiss from you.

Something feels wrong.

Your eyes snap open and without turning around, you know he’s here.

Otta was looking at you with her eyebrows raised. She flashed you a thumb’s up before getting back to work.

You turn around quickly, just quick enough to catch him enter. General Hux was speaking to him in hushed tones, and you started to tremble. You tell yourself to relax, but your thoughts start becoming invasive. You can remember how your neck tingled when he trailed his lips on them, even though he never has. Gloved hands squeezing your flesh, gripping your trousers hungrily, he’s tugging on you.

You try forcing yourself to work, but the words you’re typing aren’t making any sense and you realize you’re editing more than you’re reporting.

Then, you feel them. The tendrils of his influence reaching to all corners of the room. You feel them brush against the back of your neck and you shiver in anticipation. Otta and you exchange glances and you look back towards your computer. It was time.

Suddenly, you are filled with fear. This is a horrible idea, but the seed was already planted. You couldn’t stop thinking about his arms, flexing as he pins you back against the wall, and the muscles of his chest shifting under his warm flesh. You imagine running your hand down his chest, brushing over the hair leading to his manhood.

Suddenly, you realize you aren’t driving this thing anymore.

The tendrils of his influence weren’t just brushing by you. They were inside your head, between your ears, running along your curves. He knows. You let him guide you, the image of him digs his nails into your hips and you arch your back, pushing your waist to him.

Your brain skips ahead to the climax. Your fantasy is getting out of hand, but it’s an avalanche now. You’re bent forward on his office desk, your nipples perking up against the cold. He’s behind you, one hand in your hair, the other at the base of your spin, pushing and pulling at the same time, fucking you in excellent rhythm. Pleasure is surging through you relentlessly, and you realize you’re not driving the dream anymore.

And suddenly it stops.

Your eyes snap open.


You snap to attention, clicking your heels together. “Sir!” you stammer.

General Hux doesn’t glance up from the data pad. “The commander wishes to meet with you. Immediately.”

The numbers are still flashing across the screen at your station while you catch your breath. You shoot a glance to Otta who is tapping her toes excitedly. She winks at you.

“Yes, sir. Right away, sir.”

You scrape your earpiece out and fumble to get your hair back the way it was. You straighten your shoulders and take your leave.


The commander was pacing when you arrived. His office was heavy with pressure, on the desk, his helmet was vibrating. You entered timidly, attempting desperately to mask your nerves with confidence. However, seeing his helmet not on his shoulders sent an icy dread over you.

“Commander,” you address him firmly, performing a full salute. “You wished to see me?”

Kylo stopped, kneading his gloved hands in a fist behind his back. He turned slowly to you, the sweet eyes you remember turned dark with frustration.

 “Tell me, Y/N, what are your intentions here?” he whispers.

The sound of your name on his lips filled you to the neck with fear, and you found yourself pulling yourself up taller as not to drown in it. You hate Otta, this was a horrible idea.

You clear your throat, “Sir, I—”

“–This is not the first time, I’ve been tempted by you,” Kylo turned his face to you, his eyes locking onto yours, “The image of your body haunts me. You torment me.” He can’t take his eyes away from you.

Tempted? “Commander,” you whisper again, if not a little softer.

 “I’m ordering you to show me.” Kylo’s voice rumbles. You can tell he’s trying to remain calm, but his helmet was still vibrating on the desk.

“I’m sorry?” you whisper.

He turns to you completely, and you can see to the extent that he’s been blushing and holding himself back. His pressure increases and he’s trembling, squeezing his fist tight. “Show me now what I’ve seen in your mind.”

“Commander,” you insist again, swallowing hard.

He approaches you, pushing his hand against your stomach, pinning you back against the wall. You gasp, as he grabs your chin.

“Show me what you are hiding from me.” He’s gentle, but he wants to push you. He’s already been as deep into your head as you ever wanted and he won’t let you say ‘no’. “Or I will take it myself.”

Fear overwhelms you and the longer he stares into your eyes, the weaker you become. Your eyes fix on his and you obey, letting his eyes into your fantasy. Piece by piece he slips inside, your ears ringing as you follow him down.

A hand clutching feverishly hot flesh, nails digging deeper, a sigh that tumbles from your lips into a moan, his breath on your nose and mouth making the skin on your neck prickle. The dizzying arousal of breathing his air met with an insatiable hunger for his lips.

In a rush of sensory detail, you take him to the next level, deeper, harder. The stars are dancing across your eyelids and you cry out, reveling in Kylo’s grip on your hips. Thrusting relentlessly, tossing your breasts with the force of his body, toes above his head curling in anticipation.

“Fuck me, daddy!”

Holy shit.

His concentration suddenly shattered, Kylo stumbles back, his broad shoulders heaving. He wildly searches your face, flushing furiously from the neck up.

Free to breathe, you pant, feeling your womanhood pulse. Panic sets back in, your face burning so red, your knees knocked together. Despite your embarrassment, your fantasy seemed to thrill him, even the last part. You couldn’t exactly remember the part in your dream about a daddy kink, but it wasn’t about to disappoint you.


He stumbles toward you, his lips parted in desperation. Your lips come together and his tongue dips down into your mouth. He drinks the kiss from your lips, pushing his hands down your sides, gripping you hungrily.

You’re a puppet in his hands; your body moves where he puts it. Left, right, then he secures you in the middle, rubbing his hips into yours.

When he breathes out, you breathe in and it winds him up. He pulls you by the waist, your lips still devouring each other. He props you up on his desk and you hook your legs around his waist, keeping him as close as you could manage.

Kylo’s drawing from your head now, pulling your fantasy out like a ribbon. As he pulls, it unravels pinning you to his icy desk, pushing his gloved hand on your groin. His thumb pushing hard against your trousers, finding your clit easily. You arch your back, feeling the arousal ride the curvature of your spine into your chest, kicking your heart into high gear.

You moan desperately, involuntarily pressing your hips against his hand and he forces you back down to the desk. You try to speak, say something, anything to get him to let up, but the words don’t come.

Kylo takes your chin in his hand, squeezing you firmly. You feel his hesitation; he’s battling the urge to threaten you, but something is pinning his tongue behind his teeth.

“Say it again,” he muttered.

“Say what?”

“You’re a fool to tantalize me,” his menace shakes you.

You weren’t trying to tease him, but your mind was spinning so fast, you had to remind yourself where you were at least a handful of times. It was safe to say your brain was nowhere near where your body was.

Veins push out on his neck and forehead, and he’s trembling. Ripping the image from your head, he puts his gloved hand that gripped your chin around your neck. He pulled his lips into a tight line, tightening his grip on you, his thumb massaging you steadily.

You gasp, the air squeaking out from your windpipe. His gloves were icy, sending goosebumps rippling down your neck.

Through gritted teeth, Kylo gives you room to speak. Holding your waist in place with this thumb still massaging your clit through your trousers, he pulls you close. He pushes your foreheads together, pulling your chin towards him. “Call me daddy,” he breathes to your lips.

That word, his voice.

“D-daddy,” you moan.

In one swift motion, he locks your hands above your head, throwing you back onto the desk by your neck. You hit the desk and moan, arching your back in pleasure.

Easy work is made of your trousers. Before you could catch your breath, you’re bare from the waist down. He takes your panties in his fist, tearing them at the hem before throwing them in pieces to the growing pile of your belongings. He doesn’t bother removing his gloves, just resumes thumbing you, the friction sending vigorous waves of excitement that made your hair stand on end.

“Again.” He grunts dipping his thumb into your folds, “Louder.”

He’s demanding moans from your lips now, his influence holding your wrists in place. You struggle against him, but he’s pinned your knees and the rest of your body against the desk. You’re dripping now at the mercy of his glove, your chest heaving, trying to keep up with his relentless pace. You time your breaths with the rotating pressure on your clit as it runs your head in circles. Dizzy, you cry out and he responds, slipping two gloved fingers into your folds.

“Don’t be stubborn. I know how to push you.” His voice rumbles in your folds, “I know what you like.”

Fighting the urge, you ball your fists as you release more of your juices onto his glove. It’s squeaking now, sliding with ease into you. He nestles his hand in your folds, and as he pulls his fingers out, the friction catches on your clit and grinds against its curvature. You gasp violently, struggling against the Force that held you immobile.

“Now, say it,” he leans over your body, unfastening his own belt, letting it clatter to the floor. His cock is pulsing. You can feel the heat of it on your thighs, but his fingers continue to work you without ceasing.

“Daddy,” your voice is small, just barely a breath with articulation.


Your head is spinning. “Daddy!” you whine, desperately pulling at your wrists. But Kylo is stronger than ever, your fantasy fueling his thirst for control.

“Good girl,” His grin is wicked, and he releases you. He snatches you by the neck and turns you around, splaying you on your stomach across the desk. He doesn’t have to push your legs apart, you want his cock too desperately.

Kylo doesn’t wait. He digs his fingers into your hips, yanking you back on his cock. He groans as he slides easily between your folds. You clench your fists on the top of the desk as his cold gloved hand shoves you down by the small of your back.

He sets the pace fast, the sounds of flesh slapping ringing out, his balls slapping against your clit, jolting you with pleasure. He grunts hard with every thrust, the rumbling in his throat pushing you closer and closer to the edge. Your breathing is heavy now, and you can feel your orgasm shoving against your gut. “Daddy, I’m coming!”

The commander reaches down, taking a fistful of your tangled hair in his hand, forcing you to arch back, taking his entire length. You’ve been here before, and the climax is even better when you’re reallythere. You’d never imagine Kylo fucking you so good. If you didn’t have a daddy kink, you certainly do now.

Your sigh escalates to a scream as you come, stars streaking by on the insides of your eyelids. The pressure in your gut release in a flurry of fluttering, that rises all through your chest and blooms in your cheeks.

But he isn’t stopping. The slickness of your womanhood drives him into a frenzy, gripping your hair tighter and thrusting with his entire waist. Your cries are hiccupped by the slamming of his hips into you, and before you can scream again, he drops you on the desk, desperately gripping your hips.

He doesn’t pull out, just shoves in one last time, further than you can take and you snap your head back. You cry out together, shuddering as he empties his cock inside of you.

Panting, Kylo pulls himself out of you, and satisfied, you sink against the desk.

“You’re dismissed,” Kylo grumbled wiping his lip with his thumb.

You decide you’re keeping this one from Otta.