General? General.

The galaxy of stars before you is breathtaking. Those around you had spent their entire lives, some life spans tripling your own, staring out at them under the rule of the Order, and the spell of the endless blackness before them had worn off; dulled even. You’re still optimistic. Enchanted by them and all they have to offer, as well as enthusiastic about your position within the Order. You have your whole life to raise through the ranks, and this isn’t a bad place to do it. Your entire family before you had served in the Galactic Empire back before the days of the Skywalkers, and you would follow in their footsteps as everyone with your name had.

The relaxing sound of patrol fighters just outside and mouse droids transporting data to storage have become your daily ambience, if Kylo Ren isn’t present to add haphazard lightsaber strikes to it. Thoughtfully, you turn back to your post at the comms on the bridge.

“Was it like this back on Devaron?”

The horned, red-skinned co-worker sitting to your right turns away from the control panel to look at you. “What? The people, or the workplace politics?”

“Both,” you smile. The Devaronian takes a glance around behind him, before turning back to his position of duty.

“The officers here are nothing like my people. The environment here on the Finalizer is particularly dramatic, compared to the starships I skipped from prior to joining the First Order.”

“Ren?”

“Ren.” You continue to smirk as the horned officer goes on. “I’ve been told that just the other day, he was dissatisfied to say the least with the performance of the head cook on this ship. Half of the kitchen was destroyed, and I imagine that was catching him on a good day. Palp wafers for breakfast lunch and dinner it is, I guess.”

“That’s nothing compared to what I heard,” you whisper back. “Just the other day, Ren called the General to tell him just what he thought about how he runs things. Do you know what he said?” Your colleague’s eyes widen as he senses something, and turns back to his work as your own eyes slide shut.

“What he said is none of your business,” a sharp voice snaps. “Rather disappointing that you would while away your time on this bridge discussing matters not privy to you—ensign.”

“The comms were quiet, General,” you attempt to explain, gaze downcast. Hux’s resulting sneer is nothing short of terrifying.

“Is that so?” he spits. “Then why is it Lieutenant Mitaka has reported an incoming transmission from our liaison on Dromund Kaas about an escaped rebel prisoner within their camp?”

You glance over to Mitaka. He’s always been up Hux’s ass, desperate to snitch on anyone for the approval of the higher ups. You sigh. You can’t really blame him, with the kind of punishments they dole out around here. “It appears I missed that. I’m sor—”

“Would you fail to send out a distress signal were it necessary in favour of discussing the state of my uniform with your fellow officer, perhaps? Neglect your duties to gossip about the way I give orders, or perhaps the way I speak?”

“Certainly not,” you reply quietly. He scoffs.

“You’re lucky my forgiveness isn’t lacking when it comes to you.” You exhale in relief, but feel yourself tense again when the redheaded General beckons. “To my office.”

Your heartbeat picks up as you squirm in your seat. “Why?”

He glares down at you. “More backtalk?” By now, the entire bridge has gone silent, trying and failing to pretend not to listen to the standoff. Your cheeks burn under the scrutiny, especially under the intensity of Hux’s gaze.

“No, General.”

“Good. Follow, before I have the stormtroopers escort you.” You follow Hux with your head bowed, down the hallways. He walks with the purpose of a spiteful leader, his boots clapping loudly against the pristine floor, and the only sound he makes is a hiss when he kicks a small black droid out of his path. He’s intimidating, always has been, but it doesn’t stop that small twinge inside of you.

By the time you sit down at his desk opposite him, the flush in your cheeks is not from your public embarrassment on the job anymore... instead, it’s from being in Hux’s quarters alone with him.

“Ensign Nott.” Hux takes his time sliding his gloves off, lifting his chin and staring down his nose at you. Unfortunately you’re unable to make the appropriate eye contact when listening to your superior—you’re preoccupied by the exposed skin of his hands, distracted wondering why he removed the gloves in the first place. “Eliora.” You startle, looking up at him finally. He narrows those icy blue eyes. “When one is dismissed from the First Order, they are not given the luxury of a formal chat such as this one.”

“Please, General—”

“—They either find themselves simply and suddenly out of work, on a pod to the nearest sith-controlled planet, or dead.”

You shift nervously. “Are you letting me go?”

“Are you unhappy with your work?”

“No. No, of course not.”

“Good. Because the First Order is not in the business of caring.” He sits back in his chair, his face softening only by a fraction. “If I am not mistaken, you graduated top of your class in the academy.”

“Yes, sir.”

His eyes narrow even further at the title, and he goes on. “Despite this, there are many behind you fresh out of the academy who would readily snatch up your position given the chance. Is this what you want?”

“No.” You shake your head. “I’ve made it clear how devoted I am to our cause.” Hux nods, settling forward once more in his seat.

“Very good. I am inclined to give you another chance.” He watches you sit before him, nervous and squirming. A small, mean smile begins to grow on his lips. He’s instilled the fear of the maker into you, and he appears to get off on it. “If you continue to shirk your duties and speak so rudely of me, the Supreme Leader will mistake me for a fool if I don’t terminate you. To ensure this doesn’t happen, you will shadow me tomorrow.” He flicks his wrist. “I will teach you what it means to be an Imperial officer, and how important duty is.” He sneers. “We’ll just pretend, you and I, that I have the time to do such a thing.”

You swallow, your throat dry. “I’ll be following you around tomorrow?”

“Is there a problem, Miss Nott?” He sees the way your cheeks flush pink, his smirk growing even wider. “Did you have some other form of redemption in mind?”

“That’ll be fine,” you nod. “Just fine.”

“Good. The start of tomorrow begins in this office. If you are late, you will be on the next pod to Coruscant. I understand they are in perpetual need of cantina workers there.” A flash of anger shoots through you at the implication.

“I’m not getting on any pod, or working for any rebel scum in a bar. I’ll see you tomorrow, General.” Hux flicks his wrist once more.

“Dismissed, then.” He watches you go, taking off his hat and pattering his fingers against it. Toying with you has been fruitful since he began, but you’re starting to strike back. Is it worth pursuing? He removes your file chip from beneath his desk, inserting it into the small black droid in his office and watching your details project.

Yes, he decides, Eliora is worth the pursuit.

--

When you get to Hux’s office early the next morning, he’s already inside, dressed and ready for duty.

“When you are on time, you’re late. When you’re early, you’re on time. Thankfully, all our pods are under maintenance today. Follow.” You walk quickly after him as he leads you down the hall. “We begin with patrol. Ensure that everyone is performing their best even at the start of their day, before handing that task off to those who have been hired to make my life easier.” He sniffs. “Not that they do.” He sharply directs his gaze to his left. “Lieutenant Kuna!”

“Yes, General?” The woman turns immediately from her station. Although she is much taller than Hux, you notice that he still manages to talk down to her.

“You are needed in the hangar.”

“Yes, General.” She keeps her voice monotone and her eyes straight forward as she abandons her post immediately and walks the other way.

“Notice her?” He clucks his tongue. “She doesn’t ask questions.” His eyes spend too long lingering on you. Are you mistaking his usual intensity for a different sort of interest? You can’t stop the words as they come out, taking the chance to find out.

“Was my questioning so offensive yesterday when I asked why you were interrogating me?”

“Silly girl. If you want diplomacy, join the rebellion.” He takes a step closer. “Here, we put an end to those who threaten disorder.”

“With all due respect, I know what we do.”

“Then why do you stick out like a sore thumb under my command?” For the first time today, Hux looks genuinely frustrated.

“Maybe it’s because you notice me more than you do others.”

His jaw clenches, and you know you’ve hit a sore spot. He simply leans in until you can feel his breath on your face. It’s strangely cool. “Be that as it may... you are an ensign. Here, you obey.” You fully intend to respond with another standard yes sir, but you’re distracted by the General’s proximity. You’ve never been this close to him before, outside of your fantasies.

“All I ever want to do is obey you, sir.” Hux can tell your tone is pointed, and he’s surprised—not unpleasantly.

“You can start today,” he murmurs, “Right here.”

“Here?” You tease him slightly. “Right here, on this floor?”

This time, it’s Hux’s turn to be rendered speechless. He only drops his gaze down to your lips, and your chin inclines ever so slightly in preparation.

“Have you found the droid?”

Kylo Ren’s unmistakably warped voice comes through his helmet, and draws Hux back to the present. He quickly stands up straight to face the grandson of Darth Vader. “I give you the news when I receive it myself, Ren.”

“You give me the news when I ask for it,” Ren replies, his voice sharp as he approaches Hux. You can’t tell if he’s looked your way or even noticed you from beneath that brooding black mask, but you can see Hux’s expression of utter hatred and distaste. “Don’t forget who you’re talking to.”

“How could one, when you have such a distinctly foul presence?” Hux shoots back. You get the impression he’s toeing the line to bolster himself in front of you, and you’re right. Ren does as you’d feared he would—he brings three fingers up in a force chokehold, and Hux’s arms immediately fly up to his neck, fingers clutching at an invisible tether.

“Don’t test me.” He chokes Hux harder, and leans in. “Double the efforts on the droid. If lives are lost, replace them. I want it found.”

“Done,” Hux wheezes out, and Ren drops him, breezing past without a single glance to you. Hux catches his breath, climbing up from his knees and righting himself.

“Interesting,” you dare to break the tense silence. “I forgot you had a boss too, General.”

“Don’t you dare insult me,” he snarls. “My boss is the Supreme Leader.” He pulls down his uniform, brushing it off. “Not that overgrown, force-sensitive brat.”

“It doesn’t look like it.” Before you can gasp, you feel yourself slammed back against the wall of the hallway. It’s deserted—no one to witness but the two of you, and obviously, Hux enjoys it that way.

“Don’t forget your place,” he growls. His hands crawl up from where they’re bracing him around you on the wall, to grip your shoulders and hold you firm. “What you have just witnessed may have been demeaning, but I will not accept your insolence or disrespect. I am the cat. You are the mouse. Am I understood?” You exhale.

“Yes, sir.” He lets you go, straightens his hat out, and sticks his chin up.

“Very well. Follow.”

You catch a smirk growing on his face as he turns to walk ahead of you, and your brain begins firing off presumptions a mile a minute. He likes to exercise his power, that much is certain and understandable. But with you, it’s as if he sees it as a game.

A game of cat and mouse.

You almost laugh at the hilarity of it, then remember that you’d gone and caught feelings for your boss and he’s toying with you over it. Now, you could groan from what seems like the worst punishment in the galaxy. When General Hux dismisses you from shadowing him today, you know he won’t be finished with you.

--

The next few days, things had warmed up between the two of you. Threatening eyes had softened, and harsh tones had become as playful as they could in a professional setting. However it had happened, the ice encasing Hux’s heart had begun to melt, but that didn’t mean he had gone soft. Far from it.

Back at your post the next week assigned to work on the case of the missing BB unit, you mistake approaching footsteps for a patrolling bridge officer, failing to turn around and acknowledge whoever they are.

“Eliora.”

You look up to see Hux standing above you, lips downturned in his perpetual scowl. Secretly, you hope you haven’t offended him in some way, but that’s ridiculous. You hadn’t even seen, let alone spoken to the man standing before you.

“General Hux.” You raise an eyebrow, and Hux blinks down at you. He studies your face for a moment, pleased by the submission in your eyes and the growing flush in your cheeks from his presence. He folds a cocky arm behind his back, chest broadening.

“Anything to report on the droid?”

“Transmissions from Jakku have been sparse and very limited when they do come through, but there have been sightings of one that matches the description.” Hux’s eyebrows raise.

“Excellent. Good work.” Your coworker glances over, and Hux notices the attention on the both of you. He scowls again, and takes a step between you. “What of his location?”

“He’s been spotted in the Eastern dessert. With a girl.”

“A girl?” Hux mutters. “Hm. I’ll get Mitaka on it. He can pinpoint where this wretched outcast is, and where she’s harbouring the last piece of the map.” He nods. “Ren will be pleased.”

“Are you pleased?”

A hand rubs down your back. “Very much so.” Warmth flowers throughout your body, and the hand begins to travel down and rub circles. He goes on, tone morphing not back to his usual strictness as you’d imagine, but into amusement. “Did I tell you could refer to me by my name?”

“I put General before it,” you retort. He sniffs, nods.

He seems reluctant to let you go and resume his duties as General on the Finalizer, but when officers begin to take notice of his lingering presence, he does so, leaving you with a sensual trail of his fingertip up your spine to the back of your neck. Maybe the cat has become the mouse, you think, chewing on your bottom lip as the bundle of nerves in your stomach begins to spark flame elsewhere.

--

It had been a long day of enduring abuse from Ren, summoning you and your coworkers in to have a fit about the droid not being found yet. It had only been a few days since the assignment had been given, and Mitaka had already been forced choked over it after one minor loss. You don't particularly like Mitaka, but his life must have flashed before his eyes during that encounter with that moody sociopath. You wonder in abject terror if the Sith had come up with mind-reading devices yet. Certainly those force-sensitives could do it whenever they liked...

Hush, back on track. Nobody wants to read your mind.

The knight wanted the crew of the Finalizer to do the impossible. You suppose the Order is in the business of getting the impossible done, but it still takes hard work and at least a little time.

Hands behind your back and posture impeccable, you walk down the sleek black passage toward the bridge. As you're heading back to your station, you notice none other than General Hux walking by you.

"General," you say, and he turns swiftly.

"Eliora. I heard what Ren did." He shifts uncomfortably for a moment. "He... shouldn't have done that."

"That's the kindest thing you've said to me in a while," you smile.

"Mm. I won’t hesitate to speak to him if he goes too far," Hux reminds you. “I have the authority, no matter how he loves to choke me for it.”

"I appreciate it."

"What he did in there was the equivalent of a child taking a tantrum. Not that it's any different than dealing with him in any other capacity." The two of you start to walk together.

"I'm used to getting yelled at," you shrug. "I'm still fresh out of the Academy."

"Ah, yes. The Academy," Hux nods. The barest glimpse of a smile crosses his lips. "It was long ago for me, but I remember the torture."

"Is that what whipped you into shape so strictly?" you asked.

"No. That was of my own doing." You both come to a stop in front of Hux's office. Tentatively, you reach forward to put a hand on the General's hip. Reflexively, he jerks at the touch, glancing everywhere and ready to reprimand you.

"What are you doing?"

"Just a little something to keep us through the day." He's still tense, as you're still his subordinate. You back away in defeat and embarrassment, but he inhales sharply at the loss of your touch. “I’m—” Giving in when he sees there's no one around, Hux takes you by the arm and holds you against his door.

"You think you can tease your superior like this?" he whispers in your ear, fingers coming up to stroke a strand of your hair that had come loose from your standard uniform bun away from your neck. He tsks. "Eliora. You know how I value respect above all things."

"Then I respectfully offer myself to you," you whisper, almost begging, and he can't resist any longer. He closes his hands over your breasts and seals your lips in a kiss. You reach your hand forward to cup Hux between his legs, and he draws in a sharp breath as he humps forward at the touch. He begins to kiss you like a starving man, as if it had been all he could do to stop himself from touching you earlier. You're just as lost in the sensations, forgetting where you are and why you can't tease him into fucking you right there in the hall against his door.

At the sound of approaching footsteps, the two of you break away from each other, and you wipe your lips as patrollers come around the corner. A small droid toots around behind them, and it backs up for a moment. Hux sneers down at it, and it beelines past the two of you. He’s only taking his anger out on it; the two of you always seem to get interrupted before anything can be done about this infernal tension.

You nod to Hux with a shrug, and he watches you go as he lets himself into his office. The sheer power he has over you is intoxicating, but for the first time, he doesn't feel the inkling to abuse it. He touches his lips as he sits down, sliding his tongue to taste you again. You do the same as you take your seat at comms and stare off through the front of the star destroyer into space. 

--

You’re awakened by a loud banging on your door. Groggily, you open one eye to take a look at the blinking time on your watch by the bed. It’s nearly midnight.

The bang sounds again. It’s systemic, as if a droid is doing it. You know it’s not droid, however. Rising from bed, you open the door to find what you had expected—two Stormtroopers.

“Ensign Nott. General Hux requests your presence.” You rub your head.

“He has duties for me at midnight? There are alternate comms workers for that, when I’m off.”

“Come with us.”

“I have to get my uniform on—”

“He said it was urgent. No need to change.” Your eyebrows raise. Sighing to yourself and tugging on a shawl, you follow them until you reach Hux’s office. They leave you at the door, and it slides open by Hux’s control from inside.

“Enter.”

You expect him to be pacing—facing the window with his hands clasped behind his back. You expect him, despite the late hour, to be impeccably dressed as usual and at his sharpest, determined never to be seen in any state of vulnerability. Instead, you find him behind his desk, one hand braced. His ginger hair is hanging in his face as if he’s attempted to sweep it back to no avail. His lips are parted and his pale skin is slightly flushed just beneath his eyes.

“Sir, are you alright?” you ask, stepping forward. He looks up at the stormtroopers patrolling the door.

“Leave us.”

They do as he says, and you turn back to him, confusion and concern evident in your expression. The first thoughts that flood your mind are thoughts of an attack, some kind of issue or sickness even he might have come down with. Then you start to wonder why he would call you to discuss any of that. No, he isn’t sick. He looks particularly affected. Physically compromised, even, as if he had been caught in a compromising position. Standing up straighter, you present yourself properly in front of his desk.

“Thinking of me?”

“Watch yourself,” Hux snaps, panting as he sits himself up higher to appear presentable. “You know better than anyone who you’re speaking to.”

“That’s how I know what you were doing. General.”

He narrows his eyes at you, standing from the desk. He’s in a black bathrobe, one he was obviously sleeping in or got into to relax before calling you here. “And what if I told you what I was doing? How urgently I touched my cock with your name on my lips?” He turns away from you with a harsh sigh. “Our little game is becoming too heated, Eliora. Something must be done about that.” Your stomach drops. Of course you should have expected this little tryst to come to an end sometime; it’s inappropriate and dangerous anyway, and you suppose it’s for the best that it end.

“I understand.”

“Mm. Good.” He walks circles around you, but when you try to turn to face him behind you, you feel his grip on the back of your neck. You don’t feel the usual icy fingers—instead, his hand is hot tonight, clammy. “Then bend over the desk.”

“What?”

“Need I remind you again that I won’t tolerate the questioning of my authority?” he asks slowly, annunciating his command. “Over the desk.”

You obey him, bending over. The shiver that runs through you is prolonged by his hand cupping your ass through your nightie. You’re suddenly hyperaware of your state of dress, or undress as it may seem. You’re only in your small night gown and panties. “I apologize. I didn’t have time to get into my uniform when you called for me, General.”

“On this occasion, Miss Nott,” Hux smirks, smoothing your nightie up your back to expose your underwear, “You are forgiven.” His breathing becomes ragged as his other hand comes up, rolling the meat of your ass around and squeezing. “Do you know how it tortures me so to see you every day, and restrain myself?”

“I know,” you breathe, arching your back and pressing your breasts further into his desk. “I can tell by your touches.”

“Curious that an ensign could steal my affections so quickly,” he mutters, giving your ass a sharp slap. “Like a spell. I, normally, am unbreakable.”

“Except when it comes to Kylo Ren.”

“What?” he snaps. He smoothes his hand up your back again and you moan, until he grips the back of your neck once more and pulls you up to snarl in your ear: “You do not mention him here. Him, or Snoke. Here, I am your Supreme Leader.”

You nod, grinding back against him. “You seem tense. Take it out on me?”  

“An inspired idea,” he nods, “But you don’t deserve it just yet.” He helps her stand up, and directs her into the other room, onto his black satin sheets. He stands over you. “You’ve caused me a lot of trouble. I can’t get you out of my mind, and my performance has suffered for it.”

“Your performance on the job, or in bed?” Hux scowls.

“You know as well as I, I haven’t fucked anyone. How can I when you haunt my mind?”

“I only thought you wanted to play.”

“We’ve played.”

“You won.”

“Not yet.”

“And your work has suffered.” You pout. “How can I make it up to you?” you coo. His lips curl up again.

“On your knees.” You stalk forward on your hands and knees and meet him at the end of the bed, where he stands. You get to work untying his black robe, but do it slowly to entice him. Hux looks down at you, lips parting slightly and tongue darting out at the prospect of what you’re about to do. Flippantly, he huffs. “Take care of it.” You hum.

“Yes sir.” First, you give a small lick up his stomach, where his ginger happy trail leads up to his belly button. You keep moving up, kissing and sucking gently, sensually around his chest, until you reach his stark pink nipple and graze your teeth along it. Hux’s cock twitches into visibility through the part in the robe, and as your mouth waters, you decide to finally do as you’re told.

When you first take him into your mouth, his hand can’t help but bury into your hair. It’s not tucked into a bun like it usually is beneath your uniform cap, and he appreciates how he can finally run his fingers through it as he’d dreamed of doing each night. Every small tug of passion he gives only makes you take him deeper.

“Tell me how much you like it,” he sighs, watching your every move. You pop off with a moan, eyebrows knit. “Tell me how you’ve had no other like me.”

“It’s so good. You taste so good, General. I’ve never tasted a cock so nice... so big.” Hux’s breath hitches, and he watches you on your knees for him as he sucks in his cheekbones.

“I never imagined what talents you possessed in the bedroom,” he notes. “Especially with that silver tongue. I’ve learned however, you have a talent for obedience. Isn’t that right?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Then tell me. Hold nothing back. I want to hear of your fantasies of me. What did you think of when you would watch me, your superior, walk by your station? When I would reprimand you?” For the first time in several minutes, the blush returns to your cheeks. Realizing he expects an answer, you search for words. “I expect you to speak when you are spoken to,” he growls, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger. The fear in your eyes makes him smirk, chin jutting out in that smug manner he always seems to possess.  

“What if my mouth’s full?” you grin, kitten licking his head. Something flashes through his eyes, but you start to jerk him off before he has a chance to reprimand you again. With his head rolling back, you go on. “I thought of deliberately mixing the signals just so you would come over and take me to your office to spank me.”

“You would jeopardize the First Order’s mission just to ride my cock like a little slut, wouldn’t you?” he mutters. You look up at him, tongue out as you nod. The General buries his fingers once more into the back of your hair, guiding you back onto his cock. “Then let us correct this insatiable desire, before you get into any more trouble.” He guides you on and off a few times, and when he groans, he pulls you off and lays you down. Flipping you over onto your stomach, he humps against your ass a few times. You bite into the sheets as you feel his prominent erection prod against you, and wiggle back. “How badly do you want me?”

“I would have fucked you that day you kissed me against the wall,” you murmur into the sheets, “I would’ve let you take me right there, I wanted you so bad. I’ve held off on touching myself while thinking of you, because I wanted the real thing. I can’t wait any longer.” Hux hisses as he takes himself out of his pants, and tugs your panties down with his free hand. He slaps the head of his cock against you, getting himself slick, before he finally breaches you, bracing himself on his forearms around you and burying himself inside. You gasp, arching back, and he takes one of your hands, slamming it down in his fist and pinning it to the mattress as his other one slides between the bed and your stomach, reaching down to rub at your clit. The first stroke of his fingers makes you jolt, gasping even louder, and he nips at your ear.

“Get nice and loud. I want to know just what I’m doing to you. I want all of them to know who you belong to. The General’s little whore.” Your cries grow, the rhythm of Hux’s thrusting with each circle of his finger around you drawing out pleasure from the pit of your stomach.

“Please,” you whimper, “Sir, harder!”

“You want me to pound you until you scream, do you?” he growls. “I’ll give you exactly what you need. Move yourself back on me.” With fervour, you grind back with every pound of his cock, and he starts to grunt. His teeth sink into the back of your neck, and he presses soft kisses to the top of your back as he slows his movements inside of you to deep, gentle pumps, keeping himself at bay. Each throb you feel inside of you makes your pussy clench, and you grind back again. Hux turns you over and makes eye contact with you, lifting one of your leg up to wrap around his back. This leads to you sitting up and in his lap as the two of you push and pull and kiss hard toward your orgasm. Your lips meet his first, and he bites your bottom lip as your teeth clash and lips overlap one another’s.

“Hux,” you sigh into his mouth. He swallows your gasp, holding you up by your back. He buries his face in the nape of your neck, and your moans grow in pitch until they reach a crescendo. “Fuck—I’m coming!”

“Eli—” He shudders, sinking his face down your chest into your breasts. You feel him finish inside of you as he pounds twice, growling out his release. When you fall backward away from him, his lips are parted, forehead damp. His pale chest is heaving, covered in dark love marks you don’t remember leaving there.

The large floor to ceiling window opposite the bed gives the two of you an unobstructed view into the vast corners of space.

"I used to feel insignificant within all that before I joined the Order."

Hux hums. "I did as well. Very much so." He takes a pause to think. "At first, it was freeing to join. I had found my place in the universe-- I had found my calling. What is life without order? Then, as I raised in the ranks and took on more responsibility, I began to feel as though I was only a mouthpiece. I still feel that way, subordinate to Ren when I truly only take orders from Supreme Leader Snoke."

"I think you're a competent leader. A great one at that. You get things done like no other, and you're feared."

"Yes. I find though, I've lost some of me in who I’ve become." He runs a hand through his hair, and shakes his head. "But I have found my purpose here. At first with you, I was afraid of the disorder I would experience when another's feelings were involved. I enjoyed toying with you, of course, but then I began to worry I was getting too attached."

"What changed your mind?"

"I haven't an idea. I just made a decision. Perhaps with you in my life, I can find balance."

"The balance that we're working to restore to the universe."

"The balance of a just galaxy," he nods. "And order." Hugging you closer to him on the bed, he buries his lips into your hair.

"What's your name?" He pauses.

"What?"

You stop your hand where it's running up and down his chest. "What's your first name?" He exhales.

"Armitage."

"Armitage Hux." He smiles down at you.

"That's General to you."

"Is it?" you challenge. He sniffs.

"Perhaps not in here."

"I'd say especially in here," you whisper back, and he places a kiss to your forehead.