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The Stormtrooper's Handguide On How To Handle An Insufferable Boss

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It's common knowledge around Starkiller Base that when Kylo Ren throws a tantrum, you make yourself scarce. All of the Stormtrooper training regimes in the universe still cannot hold a candle to the unbridled anger of a powerful Force user, and most of the tenured soldiers around the base are well-aware of this fact.

Unfortunately for the majority of the newer recruits, they have yet to learn this lesson the hard way, and it is one freezing day on the base when an agonized scream rips its way through the metal halls of the base.

FN-6123 pauses in his patrol. He's been trained to respond to any and all suspicious activities, and fears Captain Phasma something horrible, so he moves towards the noise to fulfill his job duties. When he rounds the corner, the smell of smoke and the odd scent of burning metal filters through his mask, and he pulls out his blaster to investigate the room coming up. What he sees first is that devastating red lightsaber, smashing and demolishing a control panel. As he evaluates the situation further, FN-6123 realizes there is no imminent threat – well, at least not an enemy one. Kylo Ren looks up from his destruction, at him, and the Stormtrooper is struck frozen by fear.

Or, well, apparently not, he's struck frozen by the goddamn Force, and Kylo Ren grins wickedly under his mask as he raises the man into the air and chokes him with his full strength. FN-6123's last moments are spotty, at best, but this close to death he's apparently become Force-sensitive, and as his pulse peters out he feels devastation from the jealousy pulsing around his killer.

“A shame you weren't FN-2187,” Kylo mutters angrily, still unsatisfied by the sacrifice as he steps over the body of the fallen Stormtrooper to exit the room.



When Starkiller is destroyed, and he's fully recovered, Snoke calmly informs Kylo that he cannot take out his frustrations on their troops, however expendable they are. Kylo is thankful he's wearing gloves when he hears the Supreme Leader chiding him like he's a goddamn child, because otherwise his nails would certainly be biting into the palms of his hands from clenching them into fists so hard.

He thinks of defying him as he leaves, of heading down to the barracks and unleashing his lightsaber and anger until the floors run with red, but it's a direct command and Snoke will undoubtedly torture him for such an indiscretion.

He's so fucking frustrated with it all that he can feel his blood boiling in his veins, and some small part of him knows he needs to calm down. Kylo tries to meditate; he truly makes the effort to re-align himself and focus simply on the Force and his own body, but he's too emotional, and he finds himself thinking of her.

She's probably off with her friends, laughing and plotting his demise, and that's it - he's lost this battle wihtin his own thoughts and his anger overflows. His body has just become a vessel for this entanglement of jealousy and anger and desire to have her.

Kylo can't help it. The first group of Stormtroopers he comes across get cut down in moments.



It is months later when Hux makes the mistake of mentioning his scar, once, when it's just barely healed. It's a passing comment, really, and as soon as it slips through his mouth and he sees Kylo tense up, he's already prepared for the Force choke. He is not prepared, however, for how the unmasked man reaches a hand up to touch the scar on his face, almost caressing it, and sighs. He's almost entirely confident that he hears the man breathily say, “She's so strong...”

It is almost more terrifying than the fact that the Master of the Knights of Ren could murder him with only a lifted hand. Hux does not mention the scar, or anything about the girl, again.



They're fighting, lightsabers drawn as First Order troops invade the Resistance base in a mass swarm, when Rey senses another presence in their midst.

Kylo grits his teeth against her onslaught – she'd knocked his mask off a few moments ago, and now their eyes meet, his Dark pools of passionate anger, and hers Light with the defiance of spiritual goodness.

A Stormtrooper aims his blaster in an attempt to assassinate the Force user fighting against his Commander, and his life is snuffed out so suddenly that it makes Rey flinch with the immediate shift in the Force. Kylo's just killed his own soldier with a literal wave of his hand, and she doesn't have time to consider why as he presses his advantage and bears down on her again with that monstrous lightsaber.

For some peculiar reason, his fighting seems stronger after the incident, more uncontrolled and wild. She doesn't mean to, but their fighting is so intense that it happens almost accidentally, and she can't quite understand why the dip into his mind reveals an almost-reverent snarl of, You're mine!

He's gone berserk in their combat, and Rey beats a hasty retreat. She's not sure she can win.



She's dreaming of a planet that Poe told her about, one with something called hot springs, where supposedly you strip down and relax in a naturally heated pool of warm, blissful water. As a water-starved junkrat from a desert planet, Rey thinks this appeals magnificently to her, so she has no qualms as she opens her eyes to see the steamy, rocky surface. Nobody's around, so she slowly undresses, feeling a bit sensual in the steamy atmosphere of the spring, and slides her hands down her body as she steps into the hot water.

Her eyes are closed, the picture of perfect relaxation as she is almost fully submerged under the water, when a large, smooth hand presses itself between her legs. She already knows she's dreaming, and the notion of pleasure is rather attractive, so Rey moans softly as the fingers tease and caress her sex. A finger slides into her, and she barely opens her eyes to see that mop of unruly, black curls peeking out of the water, affectionate eyes twinkling at her as she gasps and unravels under his careful ministrations.

She does not see, or sense, the black-garbed figure watching her from a distance.

Nor does he see the face of the one pleasuring her, though it is one he sees every time he deigns to look in a mirror.

He wakes up after that, and the damage done to his room is so severe that he is permanently moved to a different living quarters. Hux, in addition, decidedly does not mention to the rest of the troops how an entire squadron vanished overnight.



Rey's barely got her lightsaber in her hands again, ready to topple over the group of three Stormtroopers moving towards her, when one of them yells out a frantic, “Wait! We're not here to fight!”

She shoots them a disbelieving look as she turns the saber on, laser crackling, and waves it around to indicate the bodies she's already dropped. “We're in the middle of a raid and you're not going to try and annihilate us?” she asks. “Not likely.”

And then she's charging them, but she doesn't feel the shift in the Force that indicates the lifeforms she's engaging in battle against are about to fight for their lives. It throws her off, used to encountering the strange mix of killing intent and self-sacrifice that she's used to feeling from the armies of Stormtroopers, and maybe they aren't here to fight her? Finn was capable of dissenting, so it isn't impossible that they're not lying...

She stops in front of the one who had spoken, lightsaber threateningly close to his neck. “Alright, I'm listening.”

“We... have a favor to ask,” one of the Stormtroopers says slowly, almost sheepishly. The blank white faces of the masks stare back at her, but Rey can feel waves of embarrassment and fear rolling off of them.

Rey doesn't have all day to pander to them, so she lets out a low growl, daring them to continue.

“Can you please fuck Kylo Ren, already?” comes out desperately, and it's got to be the absolute last thing that she had ever expected to hear.

What? she thinks, and maybe she's said it aloud, because he continues, “The man is absolutely nuts, we're running out of options! When he even thinks of you with another person, he murders us! We're cannon fodder for his temper tantrums, and he needs to get laid! By you! For the good of the universe!”

“He killed my best friend because you hugged that goddamn traitor!” one pipes up, anger and sorrow causing his voice to crack.

Rey's fairly sure she's gone into some form of shock at this point – this can't be reality, can it? She's got to regroup. She takes a look at the Stormtroopers, a fierce light glinting in her eyes as she says, “Run. Run right now before I reconsider.”

They're gone in the blink of an eye.



Finn looks like she's speaking Wookiee. Poe is choking on the rations he's eating, and Rey considers letting him suffer for a brief moment before she slams her hand down, hard, on his back. The moment his throat is cleared, though, he bursts into laughter, and she regrets helping him immediately.

You,” he gasps in between his tears of laughter, “a scavenger from a little nowhere planet, have managed to unwittingly seduce your mortal enemy!”

Rey wants to threaten to choke him again with the Force, but that would be treading a line too close to the Dark. “Shut up! This is serious, I have no idea what to do!”

The entire situation is so bizarre. Every time she'd thought about the Stormtrooper encounter, she couldn't see any way for it to be a trick. Those men had risked their lives to deliver the message to her, and she hadn't felt anything about them lying when they'd spoken. But, seriously? Fraternizing with the enemy?

Finn has a bizarre look on his face. “Wait, Rey. This could be your fate.”

She leans over to him, curious. Poe seems to be doing a great impression of a dying Resistance pilot in the background, so she ignores him. “Hm?”

“You need to convince him to come to the Light, right? What if the only way to do that is by, you know... sleeping with him?”

Poe's howling now, drawing attention from all areas of the mess hall, and he strangles out, “Rey's so good in bed she can make you change sides!”

Sometimes, she hates her friends.



Things come to a head on a small forest planet, of all places. Rey is running at top speed towards the crashed wreckage of a fighter jet, and she knew even before it flew overhead that it was Poe's craft. It looks like a TIE has somehow managed to shoot him down, and she dodges as it fires at her and flies away.

“Poe? Shit, Poe!?” she's yelling, panicked, as she stumbles over the mess of the ruined aircraft. She can still feel his life-force through the Force, but Luke hasn't managed to teach her how to Force heal yet, and she can feel his heartbeat stuttering.

He coughs out a, “Rey?” and she's almost overwhelmed by the relief that drenches her like a bucket of cold water.

“I'm here, Poe, you'll be alright!” she calls out in response. She makes her way carefully over the wreckage to the pilot's seat, and sees him, bleeding but conscious.

He flashes her a grin, and murmurs, “Ain't it nice being rescued by a pretty girl?”

If he can make jokes, Rey knows he's probably alright, so she digs around in the cockpit after scoffing at him. The emergency kit stowed in the cockpit isn't too damaged, and Rey grabs a jar of bacta from it before slathering it over all of the injuries she can see. It looks like a part of the ship rammed into his shoulder as he landed, and Rey thinks she should wait to pull it out until they're on safer ground.

“Was flying too low to do a proper ejection,” he explains, inhaling sharply when she prods too deeply at the pole embedded in his shoulder. “But low enough to survive the crash.”

“Finn's going to be pissed,” she says softly, smiling down at him. “I'm glad you're okay, though, let's get you out of here.”

Poe bemoans the loss of his jet as they walk towards the Resistance stronghold, Rey supporting the majority of his body weight as her arm rests securely around his waist. He's got his good arm wrapped around her shoulder, and they make it a few hundred feet before a deep, rage-filled voice growls out above the sounds of battle in the distance. “Get away from him.”

She'd recognize that voice anywhere, and she starts to panic. Shit, Poe needs medical attention, and who's to say that Kylo Ren won't cut him down to get to her?

Poe seems to be thinking along the same lines. “Go get him, girl. I can make it back okay, the bacta helped a lot.”

Rey looks at him warily. “Are you sure?”

“Don't think I have a choice,” he responds, before he grins maniacally all of a sudden and Rey gets a sinking feeling in her stomach. Poe leans forward, pressing a kiss to her forehead, before he pushes her away and bolts towards their stronghold as an anguished howl fills the area.

“I'm your opponent, not him,” Rey bites out, unsheathing her lightsaber and preparing for battle. But Kylo Ren has no lightsaber out to meet her attacks, just an outstretched hand and amongst imposing figure.

“Very well,” is all he says, stepping closer to her.

Rey's always been stronger in the Force than him, even from that first interrogation encounter, but Kylo Ren sounds more dark than she's ever heard him before. When he almost-yells, “Sleep, girl!” she can't even resist it, his power enveloping her in darkness.



She awakens quickly, alert and ready to brawl. She's lying on a bed, but unrestrained, so she immediately sits up and searches for her weapon. Naturally, it's missing, and she turns to the figure standing quietly by the door.

“What do you want, Kylo Ren?” Rey growls. If he wants a Force battle, she's got one for him, and the training Luke has drilled into her comes to the forefront of her mind.

“That is a complicated question,” he responds, and some tiny, tiny part of her is glad that he sounds calm once again, not like the sheer evil she'd heard before.

“Seems like I've got some time,” is her response, and damn, it's hard being trapped in close quarters with him. He isn't wearing his mask, or the majority of his usual outfit, and she can see the pale, toned flesh of his arms. When they usually meet, the heat of the battle distracts her well enough, but the quiet of the room does nothing to quell the deep, burning attraction she's always felt to him.

“I find myself wondering why you,” he says, calculated eyes observing her carefully.

"Why me what? Why I can use the Force?"

"No," and he's shaking his head, looking annoyed. "Why I can't stop thinking about you, some little junkrat from Jakku." He pauses for a moment. "Why it pisses me off every time I see you with anyone that isn't me." And maybe the confession is too candid, too obvious, but it's not like he can take it back now.

The room is tense, and Rey isn't entirely sure how she should respond. “Didn't know you were the jealous type,” surely isn't even a viable option among her possible responses, but somehow it's what her mind has decided on without her permission, and his eyes flash dangerously, lips pulled into a scowl, as he strides quickly across the room.

He pushes her down onto the bed, and before she can contest the motion he's climbing on top of her. Unexpected, but not entirely unwelcome, it doesn't even cross Rey's mind that she could easily use the Force to repel him away. Instead she watches, eyes wide, as she arches over her.

Grabbing her wrists, he harshly pulls them above her head and ensnares them with his long fingers. It takes minimal effort for him to rip her shirt, exposing her shoulders and the bindings across her chest. Looming on top of her, Rey can feel her heart picking up frantically, and she has to even the odds. This is another fight of theirs, both scrambling to gain the upper hand, and so she hooks a leg behind his knees and pushes her hips up into his.

A strangled moan bursts forth from his lips at the contact, and then as a counter he's pressing her down into the mattress, and she can feel how hard he is, how much he wants her. She's still restrained by his hand, but Rey isn't out of the fight yet. She has to tilt her neck up at an awkward angle to kiss him, but she manages, and he's only just opening the seam of his lips to her prying tongue when she bites down hard on his lip, drawing blood.

“You're so goddamn tall,” she complains as she resumes her former position, and shudders as he licks a stripe up her collarbone and her neck.

“And you're so goddamn mine,” he responds, looking satisfied at the trail of blood that smears down her exposed flesh, biting down hard on her shoulder. He's marking her, she thinks, and the thought shouldn't be as hot as it is but she's squirming and moaning underneath him and he hasn't even really touched her yet, which isn't fair.

Her eyes flutter as he soothes the wound with his tongue carefully. “Afraid you'll have to earn that,” she manages to get out, and it's like a switch has been flipped. She supposes she should have known he'd be the possessive type – “That lightsaber belongs to me” – but seeing the evidence of just how much he wants to own her isn't entirely unappealing. Oh, who exactly is she kidding? She's wet as hell.

“No,” he growls out. “You are mine.” And he's so confident in his response, so sure she'll submit to him, that Rey feels a slight flicker of frustration. She's not a possession to be won, and even if she wants this, there's no way she's going to make it easy for him.

“Hm,” she says offhandedly, as though she isn't about to be ravished. “No, I don't think I am.”

She can feel his hand tighten around her wrists, and she's fairly sure they're going to bruise. He seems enraged, almost unstable at her response, and she takes advantage of the moment to concentrate. “You will unhand me,” she says, pure confidence reflecting in her eyes.

“I will unhand you,” Kylo says, and his grip loosens before releasing.

Rey knows she has only a few moments before the hazy obedience of the Force lifts, and she slides out from underneath him. She turns him over and climbs on top of him, her knees caging his legs between her.

“People don't always get their way,” she murmurs at his shocked expression when clarity reaches his eyes again. He's lying on the bed, now, and Rey thinks she'll take her time with him.

“You – !” he starts, but she's kissing him earnestly now, tongues entwining as they both fight for dominance. She's not going to just lie there and let him fuck her into submission, no, she's a goddamn Jedi of the Light, and she's stronger than him.

From this position, she can angle her hips and grind down on top of him, and his gasping reaction is certainly the one he's looking for. She reaches out with the Force into his mind, can hear his slightly panicked Shit, I'm going to come, and grins wickedly.

She doesn't ease up on the pressure, hips gyrating sensually over his lengths, and she has him coming before she's even taken a stitch of clothing off of him. His orgasm is powerful, she can tell from the blissed-out, almost agonizing look on his face, and satisfaction warms her veins.

Her sex is aching now, though, desperate for attention, and while he recovers she sits back on her knees and slips out of her ruined shirt and baggy pants. While she's unbinding her chest and unraveling her underclothes, she can feel his eyes on her, and when she's finally naked, tanned desert flesh revealed, she smirks. “You didn't think we were done, did you?”

Kylo looks reverent, before he slides his own complicated clothing off. He doesn't bother to untie the wraps binding him, instead tearing them apart quickly, and he looks up at her expectantly once his long, flushed cock is released from its (slightly sticky) confines. He's already hard again, and Rey can admire such a libido, so she crawls back on top of him. “Who belongs to who, then?” she goads, and she's dripping wet as she slides her cunt teasingly against his cock.

He groans involuntarily before sliding his arms over her toned ass. “You belong to me,” he says as he adjusts her over his length and pushes her down in one smooth stroke.

Having him inside of her is better than the first drink of water after days of dehydration, and she falls apart on top of him. Teasing him had also meant teasing herself, and she's desperate for release, now. They begin a quick, rough rhythm, his cock sliding deeply inside of her slick wetness before he pulls out until almost completely unsheathed and pushing back in.

She thinks she might be sobbing in between her moans, but all she can feel is the sensation of his cock ramming into her. Rey hardly notices when he flips her onto her back again while they're still connected, but this new angle allows him to fuck her harder. She wraps her legs around his waist as he pounds into her.

“Tell me, Rey!” he commands, and his next thrust pushes into her so deeply she feels liike she might break apart. She can't even form words at this point, and he's fucking her fiercely but he refuses to let up on his demands.

Her mind has dissolved into a litany of loud moans, and by the Force, or some miracle, she manages to cry out, “I'm yours!” before her orgasm hits her and her vision explodes into pure white. She hopes he's coming with her, because fuck, she feels incredible and boneless and she's not going to be able to get him off again after this.

It feels like hours later when she comes back to the present. She could get used to these mind-blowing orgasms. He's still lying on top of her, inside of her, heart racing and breathing only just beginning to even out. “Mm,” she sighs, halfheartedly moving one arm to slide up and down his back.

“Same,” he murmurs, face down into the bedding.

Rey figures the endorphins are still rushing through his body, and she can pull off a joke or two, so she murmurs into his ear, pressed closely against him, “So, can I call you Ben yet?”

She's shocked when he doesn't respond in outrage, responding instead with a quiet, seductive, “You can call me whatever you want and I'll respond, Rey.”

Oh, Poe is never going to let her live this one down.