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"See? That's the fun part: he never even needs to know." The words came out slightly garbled, consonants slurring around the tool held between your teeth.

A series of incessant beeps followed your assertion.

You snickered.

"Well," Free hand skimming along the shapes to your left, you drawled, "Then just say you don't know how it got there."

The droid opted for a long 'whirr' at that.

Your brows furrowing, you kicked yourself backwards to visually inspect where your hand had been.

One beep.

Gaze flickering down past your nose, you gave a light-hearted huff, yanking the screwdriver from your jaws before turning again towards the BB unit.

"Thanks, bud."

You moved to fasten the last few bolts.

"Listen, your gyro-unit needed replacing anyway. The sensor was shot-- which, yes, he would have noticed sooner or later; but It would be irresponsible for me to just leave you like this when there's such an easy fix." You reasoned.

"Besides, he would have taken you to a service droid and all they can give you is the standard issue," You drew back, voice lowering to an exaggerated, stage-whisper, "And between you and me, the range on those things is downright archaic."

Wrist twisting one final time, you moved a foot or so away to survey your work.

"Might as well just cart you off to an antique stall at that point-- And we can't have that, now can we?"

A pause. Then, a reluctant noise of agreement.

You spun around, retrieving BB-8's missing outer panel before returning to him.

"Lovely! Then we're on the same page: the commander never finds out; you get a much-needed upgrade--"

The piece now back in its proper spot, you tossed your tool back on the table, grinning.

"--Everybody wins!" The phrase was punctuated with a flourish of your hand, followed by a decisive clap, "...Ready?"

With a confirming beep from the droid (accompanied by the few, excited movements he could accomplish on such a small surface) you pushed the button that lowered your work-table

The moment he was once again at your feet, the unit hit the ground...

Well, not 'running', but certainly 'rolling.'

He eagerly zipped about the room, a flurry of mechanical motion and high-pitched sounds that told you your work had been more than successful.

It warmed your heart.

...And also moderately raised your blood-sugar. Because, cute or not, the droid was more-or-less a loose cannon in a room full of very fragile tech.

"Okay, okay--" you chided, palm raising to smother your chuckle, "Don't go breaking the merchandise, kid."

Feet pushing you towards the doorway, you hit the keypad and directed the BB unit towards it with light encouragement, "C'mon; I've kept you cooped up too long. Go wreak your havoc."

BB-8 wasted no time, looping twice around you with appreciative chirps before promptly racing off down the hall.

Your eyes rolled, arms crossing in feigned exasperation. Ultimately though, the upward quirk of your lips betrayed your clear affection.

"Yeah, yeah. You're welcome, buddy."

.

You'd honestly expected that to be the end of it.

No, really--

You could count on one hand the number of times you'd ever seen the Commander on base before that day; so running into his droid had been more an accident than anything else.

You'd noticed an issue; you'd solved it. The whole thing should have realistically been a pleasant anomaly in your otherwise straight-forward life as a mechanic.

...Well, in theory, at least.

It seemed that, practically speaking, the universe had other plans; because, not two days later, the orange droid had been back to your station to visit. And, well, that had allowed you to notice the chip in his paint.

That kind of thing only took a minute to remedy. So, really, where was the harm?

Then a week after that you'd happened upon a new processing chip that you were sure would be perfect for him.

That one was a no-brainer too; I mean, the thing would just go to waste otherwise.

And, if an optics upgrade followed that, who could really say? Certainly not you.

Around a half of a year later (and with about thirty different upgrades you'd long since stopped rationalizing), you had come to just accept the droid's presence in your life.

"I think you're just paranoid." You remarked one day, scrolling through your schedule for the week, "There's no way he'd even notice."

If he was capable of expression, you were sure BB-8 would be leveling you with an unimpressed one as he trailed alongside you.

Pushing your data-pad back into your pocket, you both rounded the corner to the section of hall containing the cafeteria. "Okay, fine:" You relented, "No disco lights. But, don't come crying to me when you're finally ready to live a little."

A couple of somber-sounding beeps filled the air.

Laughing, you reached an open doorway and looked to check how long the line for the caf machine was.

"Have you at least considered the blasters--?"

You then found yourself frozen.

BB kept rolling, but slowed, turning to face you in light of your sudden stillness.

Commander Dameron, among several other pilots, were sat at a table in the center of the room.

Now, it wasn't as if you'd been purposefully avoiding the guy up until that point. In fact, you hadn't even properly considered the possibility of you meeting, really; Dameron was practically the poster-boy for the entire resistance, for kriff's sake. And you were...

Well, just you.

Even if, admittedly, you'd grown pretty attached to his droid, the Commander had always just seemed like a hypothetical, third-party that you'd been working under the nose of.

So, entering the room with BB-8 at your side to find him actually, physically there...?

It was a bit of an unexpected reality check.

And, ultimately, it was one that saw you promptly turn tail and run out of there.

.

The following morning as you approached your station, you were somewhat surprised to find a familiar, orange sphere waiting for you at the door.

Residual embarrassment from the previous day warmed your cheeks. Still, you tried for a sheepish smile, nonetheless.

"Beebs," You called, "To what do I owe the pleasure, buddy? You're not due for another day or two."

Only one chirp was the droid's reply.

Your brow quirked upwards, "Uh... Okay...?"

Now further perplexed given the vague nature of the droid's response, you made a slow move for the door, "Listen, you know you don't need an excuse to visit me anymore right? I think we're a ways past--"

And you're hit with quite the case of deja vu.

Because, upon entering the code to your door and seeing it open, you're immediately rooted to the spot.

Two cups of caf sat in the middle of your work station-- Which was cause for some concern given no one other than you and a small, handless machine really went in there.

But, arguably more alarming was the person holding them, sat casually in your chair as if he owned the place.

"Morning!" He chirped.

And you found yourself once again gawking at Poe Dameron.

.

"You planning on running from me this time?" The pilot smirked. He pushed himself off the wall before handing you your cup, sidling up next to you as you walked towards your station.

You rolled your eyes.

"First off, flyboy:" You drawled, accepting his arm as he offered it to you, "That was one time--"

"Twice." Poe cut in matter-of-factly, "You did it twice. In less than twenty-four hours, mind you."

"The first time doesn't count! You didn't even see me!"

"Doesn't mean it didn't happen. Besides, I'm pretty sure I felt it." His face contorted into a look of feigned distress and he moved his free hand to rest over his heart. "Heartbreak will do that to a guy, you know?"

"Once again," Your elbow playfully dug into his side and he broke, allowing a soft chuckle out when he swatted your arm in return. "You wouldn't even know it'd happened if the droid hadn't have ratted me out."

You considered a moment, "And really, I'd say the second time was warranted given you broke into my shop."

"I didn't break in; BB-8 gave me the code."

"Well, then you raised a traitor."

Beaming at you, he shifted to loop an arm around your waist, "We raised a traitor." He corrected.

That got a laugh out of you, sarcasm coating your responding, "Oh, goody."

An amused hum left him in turn.

"And I wouldn't blame the droid." Poe added, "He tried to keep your secret, I was just very persistent."

"'Persistent' isn't really the word I'd use."

"Daring, then?" His arm pulled you closer to his frame with each term he offered, "Bold? Charmingly persuasive? A fool in love?"

Your face turned crimson. It was suddenly very difficult to look at him.

"Menace. I would call you a menace." You peeked back at his face, softening when your eyes found his warm grin, "...And that last one wasn't even a synonym." You murmured in feigned exasperation.

Now fully tucked against him, you felt rather than heard the chuckle leave his chest. "What are you, a thesaurus? I'm trying to seduce you; stop critiquing."

The peck he placed on your head saw you melt.

"Believe me: It's working." You admit.

The two of you slowed as you reached your doorway, the conversation lulling now that your destination was in reach.

"...Pick you up for your lunch break?" He asked eventually.

You pivoted to lift your other arm around him, resting your cheek against him in an embrace that he easily returned.

Giving a sound of agreement, you both fell into an easy silence.

Then, a smirk broke out on your face and you pushed your head back slightly to look at him.

"Y'know... I have a spare hour today... I was thinking I could finally--"

You’d thought eventually, they’d either execute you or forget about you entirely. In a way, it was what you wanted. Living had felt like a burden for so long.

To your complete surprise, on the third day, Poe started hovering near the doorway to the cells, studying you. His big, brown eyes glared at you hard. He always left without a word.

You didn’t blame him.

When Poe had asked you to join him in the Resistance, months ago, you’d refused. You’d been hand-picked by your General. It was an honor, you’d told Poe.

To him, it seemed like you’d abandoned the ideals of the New Republic and chosen to help build the First Order. Technically, it was true, even though that hadn’t been what you’d wanted.

But even back then, no one had known that you felt like you couldn’t leave. You were already trapped. The intimidation, the control. You’d felt it happening to you like it was happening to someone else. Like you watched it from outside your own body.

Poe had left, following Leia Organa, along with every other person you’d been close to.

Soon after, you’d learned what being chosen by an Order General really meant.

You’d endured it. Thought of escape every day, but never thought you’d be brave enough to do it..

You knew your chance to leave would be hard to come by. You hadn’t wanted to leave empty-handed, especially since your Resistance contact had been reluctant to believe you’d leave the Order in the first place. But after that last night, you couldn’t stay.

The things the General had done were healed, thanks to the Resistance doctors, but you’d have the scars forever.

Poe spoke on the fifth day.

He leaned his shoulder against the door to your cell. It was an old-fashioned thing, a physical piece of metal with a window at the top. Through the bars, you looked cautiously at his crossed arms, the patch on his leather flight jacket, and just a flash of his necklace.

He didn’t even look at you, which spoke volumes. Poe was all about connection, togetherness. You’d shut yourself out of that.

“The doc said you’re healthy enough, but you had some injuries. She wouldn’t say what though,” Poe said, his gaze forward, down toward the end of the hallway.

You got up from lying on your back on the narrow bed, but you didn’t make a move to get up and get closer to him.

“It’s nothing life-threatening.” You almost said ‘don’t worry,’ but you were afraid of the reaction he’d have. You really didn’t want him to worry. You were afraid though, of how much you needed him to.

“Where’d it happen? The injuries?” He cleared his throat, looked down briefly. “I, uh, never thought your general would let you go into an actual battle.”

“He didn’t,” you said reluctantly, sensing Poe’s fishing expedition. “The injuries were from him.”

Poe’s heavy eyelids closed, his face pained, as if you’d just confirmed something he already knew.

“I shouldn’t have left without you,” he said quietly.

“It wasn’t your choice, Poe. It was mine. I wish I’d known how to leave him then, when you asked. I wasn’t brave enough.”

“Not brave?” Poe laughed humorlessly. “You’re a test pilot. You pioneered maneuvers that we use all the time. It isn’t about bravery.”

“I mean personally. I wasn’t brave enough when it mattered, with him.”

You saw just the corner of Poe’s eyes, like he could finally look at you a sliver of the way. You wished you knew how he felt. It used to be easy to know.

You sat back on the bed with your back to the wall, feet dangling off the long edge.

“You still use my tactics?” you asked, both to switch subjects and to get him talking more.

It felt so good to hear his voice.

“Yeah, well, they’re brilliant. Why wouldn’t I?” The corner of his mouth lifted. His eyes were sad, but you could see his heart in them again. That was a relief. He looked up and down the dim hallway.

“Screw it,” he muttered.

He unfolded his arms and punched a code into the panel. The cell door unlocked and he swung it open.

You didn’t move a muscle. Partially from the shock of seeing him again, like this. Partially because you were still skittish, your instinct to freeze in place at anything that had the potential to hurt you. You couldn’t help it.

Poe’s steps slowed. He could still read you. His brown eyes looked you over. You had on the mostly clean, tan outfit of a building cleaner, the disguise you’d used to escape.

He left the door open and dragged a stool from the hallway into the cell, sitting between you and the door.

He braced his forearms on his thighs, seeming to come to a decision about something.

“So, what do you want? If you could have anything right now,” he said. “Do you want us to drop you on some remote planet? Do you want to join the Resistance? You want to fly again?”

“No,” you half-laughed. “I haven’t flown in months.”

Poe frowned. “Not like you.”

“He wouldn’t let me,” you said, “but he put quite a price on your head.”

You’d heard about Poe, snippets here and there. Every victory Poe scored had only made your General angrier. He’d given you less and less freedom, cut you off more and more. Until finally, you’d spent weeks confined to his quarters, playing out a farce of domestic life that had seen the worst in him come out.

“He always thought we were seeing each other behind his back,” Poe said seriously. Then, he smiled at you. “I would’ve, if you’d been up for it.”

You almost smiled back. If anyone could make you, it would be Poe.

“No, you know me,” you said with an eye roll. “I’d rather go for the guy who treats me like shit.”

Poe swallowed thickly. “I knew he was horrible. I had no idea how horrible.”

He still doesn’t. You’re not ready to tell him.

“It must’ve been pretty bad, to make you finally leave,” he said.

You chewed lightly on your thumbnail. “Yeah, it was. And to answer your question, I don’t know what I want.”

Not exactly the truth. You knew what you’d choose, if like Poe said, you could have anything. But what you wanted was so far out of reach he’d laugh at you.

Poe must’ve sensed you weren’t ready to talk about it yet. “Maybe you’d settle for a change of scenery. Most of the rooms are underground here, but we can take a walk outside.”

“You’re a big deal in the Resistance, but are you sure that’s allowed?”

“Yeah, I’m sure,” Poe said confidently, which meant it definitely wasn’t but he’d do it anyway.

You cautiously followed him out into the hallway. As far as you knew, there wasn’t anyone else being held in the cell block. It was only four rooms, but they probably didn’t have a lot of prisoners.

The underground network seemed pretty extensive though, and you’d glimpsed an impressive amount of buildings outside. It was no makeshift base, and you had no idea how it hadn’t shown up in old Empire records. Then again, Leia’s cleverness was legendary.

“So, how’d you find us anyway?” Poe said as he unlocked the door to the outside. “I read what you told the interrogator, but I know you. There’s more to it.”

Poe opened the door, motioning for you to go through. You paused on the other side, just breathing in the air. You turned back around and held out your wrists.

“I’m not doing that,” Poe said, ignoring the restraints hung on the wall. “The doc said your hip would probably keep you from winning a footrace anytime soon.”

“Thought she wouldn’t share the details with you,” you said, your heart racing.

“She just wanted everyone to know you weren’t a flight risk,” he reassured you.

For a brief moment, his hand raised like he was going to touch your shoulder. It should’ve made you flinch. It was so strange that it hadn’t.

But Poe dropped his hand before he made contact, closing the door instead.

The fresh air smelled amazing. Poe led you behind the building, to a path that led off into the woods. The trees got denser right away, but it felt good to be closed in by nature.

You walked slowly, Poe matching your pace. Your hip was a little stiff. You’d tried to exercise it in the cell, but walking would do it good.

“Finding a Resistance sympathizer wasn’t hard. It was getting them to get me to you that was almost impossible,” you told Poe. “Luckily, a few people down the introductions, someone remembered me from our squadron days, and I had something to trade.”

The morning after that night, your General had shown up at breakfast with an inappropriately expensive necklace. Not that you’d been able to get out of bed to go to the breakfast table. He’d brought it in on the tray with the toast and juice.

He’d hurt you badly enough that he hadn’t bothered to change the door code when he went to work. Normally, he did it every day, to make sure you were locked up tightly. He’d thought you’d be too injured to leave. He had no idea how desperate you were, though.

You’d been prepared to die trying. You’d have crawled across a field of broken glass just to get away from him. Luckily, you hadn’t had to.

It looked like it hurt Poe to talk, but it was his nature to ask the hard questions. “Rose, a friend of mine, saw you when your ship landed. She said you were in pretty bad shape.”

Your feet shuffled slightly in the leaves. You sighed, grateful your ribs weren’t broken anymore.

“I’ve thought about you a lot. Every day,” Poe said quietly. “What I could’ve said to make you believe me”

“I believed you. I saw what the Order was doing to discredit Senator Organa, what he was doing at work. I didn’t realize the scale of it, but I knew it was wrong. That’s the part that’s crazy. I knew. And I still didn’t slit his throat when I had the chance. I just… let it happen. I let everything happen.”

You reached your hand out, letting your fingers glide along the leaves as you walk.

You wished you could cry about it, but you hadn’t been able to in a long time. So many of your feelings we still locked up. You see a flash of tears in Poe’s eyes, though.

“I let him isolate you. That makes me so angry.” Poe’s voice was rough and emotional. “He wanted you to have no one else but him, for you to have no friends, no other options, and I played right into his hand.”

You stopped walking and face Poe. He rests his hands on his hips, his gaze lowered.

“You had to go. To do all of this.” You looked back at the base you’d walked a few hundred meters from. You pointed to it. “That, is what’s important. The entire galaxy.”

“You’re important too.” Poe’s eyes lifted. Huge and filled with tears.

“Yeah, well, I didn’t feel like it at the time,” you grumbled. “I’m sorry, Poe. For everything.”

The heels of your hands swiped over your eyes and you were shocked to find them wet. Hopefully that was a good sign.

“I’m sorry too,” he said. His smile was sad, but at least it’s there. “The Resistance is a good place for starting over. At least, that’s what I’ve found. We have all sorts of people here. A few defectors, who know what it’s like when people they love choose wrong. If you want to talk to people who’ve been through something similar.”

You stuffed your hands in your pockets and took a deep breath, unsure

“When you’re ready, or if ever,” Poe said.

“Thanks. I don’t know if I ever will be, but maybe someday.” You wandered down the path again, warm yellow sunlight hitting you in patches through the leaves. “It’s weird, but when the interrogators were taking my statements, it felt good to get it all out. They were nice about it.”

Poe nodded. “I told them I’d served with you in the New Republic. I asked them to give you the benefit of the doubt.”

You smiled, closed your eyes. It was so Poe.

“I don’t really deserve that,” you said softly. “Technically-“

“I’ve never been a fan of that,” Poe interrupted. “Making a point on a technicality, I mean. It doesn’t give people room to maneuver or grow. Everyone has things they would’ve changed, in hindsight. We have to look ahead and try to do better.”

The path came to a natural end, branching off in a few different directions. None of them were as clear as the one back to base, though. You looked back at the distant buildings and makeshift tents, the tiny people going about their work. Not just trying to defeat the First Order, but trying to make a better future beyond that.

You believed they could, with a man like Poe to lead them.

“There’s a place for you here. I’ll make sure there is.” Poe moved closer to you. Slowly, like he didn’t want to startle you.

You stood your ground, though the animal part of you wants to run. This is Poe. It would take time to reset the anxiety you felt, being close to someone, having someone really see you.

This is Poe, you tell yourself again.

Even if your brain and body told you nothing is safe, your heart knew this man.

“I don’t suppose you’ll let me go right away, will you?” you asked, a spark of hope catching in your chest.

Poe shook his head. “No. I don’t want to let you out of my sight. Not because I don’t trust you, although I can’t say the same for everyone else. But like I said, we have all kinds of people in the Resistance, who needed all kinds of new starts. They’ll give you a chance eventually. It’s what we do here. In the meantime, I can find you a job. If you don’t mind doing inventory or some repair work. It’ll be way below your skill set, but it’s a start.”

“I would love that,” you said, feeling a smile appear on your lips. You didn’t have to fake it or force it. You didn’t even know you could feel that anymore.

Poe responded with a huge smile. It was the kind of moment where, in the past, he would’ve gathered you up into a huge hug. Now, he awkwardly brushed his fingers through his hair.

Someday, he’ll hug you and you’ll be able to hug him back.

For now, you headed back to base with Poe. For the first time in months, you had a goal, and something to look forward to, and most importantly, a friend.

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Poe's thumb brushes against the button that's the only thing between him and the enemy ship getting blasted into stardust. His heart is racing from the adrenaline of battle, no matter how big or small. This should be the last target in the sky.

He presses the button.

A flash of light fills his cockpit for a second. Pew. Then, the enemy is gone. It happens so fast that Poe can't even see the TIE fighter blow up before it's gone. The only evidence left of the enemy is scrap floating around in space. Poe's X-wing passes the debris by so fast that it's quickly left far behind. A memory, if even that.

"Target cleared," Poe tells his squadron. Now he can relax. He smiles a bit as his comrades cheer, most likely more relieved to have survived rather than actually being happy and cheerful. They managed to wipe out a bunch of TIE fighters without losing any of their own.

BB-8 beeps from the back of the ship, the droid joining in on the excitement of the rest of the squadron. Usually, Poe would be amongst the first to make a comment about getting rid of first order scum one by one - but he's tired.

Ever since Poe joined the Resistance, he's been dedicated, climbing up the ladder, worked on becoming the best pilot he can be, focused on defeating the enemy. People jokingly call him the Resistance poster boy... yet lately he's just been feeling guilty, as if he's betraying the cause he's dedicated his life to. Poe struggles to see himself as the leader people want him to be when he can be affected by someone who is supposed to be his enemy.

"What's the plan?" Wexley asks, noticing that Poe has been quiet for a while. It's unlike the pilot who usually always finds something witty to say. Hell, Poe has put on more shows than one can count, even on the battlefield.

"Start the descent to Jakku," Poe clears his throat, slowing down a bit. His gaze lazily zoomed across the stars that are scattered all around them. "Let's make sure the first order never receives those weapons."

"Roger that."

"Aye."

Poe watches as his squadron turns to the sand planet. Poe stays behind, wanting to watch their backs and take a change from leading. However, Poe doesn't get the chance to start his descent to Jakku before his radar beeps. His dark eyes are glued to the screen in a split second. One dot. One ship has joined them, arriving from somewhere in light speed.

"We've got company!" Poe warns the others but they're already too far gone to catch that. Poe is on his own.

As Poe skillfully flips his ship around to point the nose of the X-wing toward the enemy, he recognizes the ship. It's not just another TIE fighter. It's you.

Kylo Ren's little spy. Poe hates your guts, or at least he's convinced himself of that. He's called you every name in the book but prefers scrampweasel, sneaky little spy-worm or the simplest of all - shadow rat. Very creative. He's trying them out to see if any names will stick.

Poe hates how you're doing your own thing, no squadron, no rules. You appear whenever and wherever, usually at the worst of times, only to wreak havoc and piss him off. He hates how you slip away from situations that you should never get away from, how you spy on people and run back to Kylo Ren to tell him your intel. He hates how damn smart and resourceful you are and you're his enemy. He wishes your skills could be used for the good of the Resistance instead.

"You're late to the party, scrampweasel," Poe connects his comms to your ship. Staring you down from afar. He can imagine how you look in that ship, probably pissed that the first order squadron has been wiped out.

"Nah," You simply reply, your voice slightly distorted due to the comms system. "Also you've done better than scrampweasel, poster boy."

"Ouch, you're breaking my heart, sweetheart," Poe mutters sarcastically, "unfortunately I'm not taking constructive criticism right now." A few buttons are pressed. His ship buzzes to life as he loads his weapons again. Loading...

BB-8 beeps nervously as he recognizes your voice and ship. You and Poe have been head to head many times before, in the sky, on land, probably underwater. It always gets out of hand, it's always chaotic and especially when flying, the poor droid will get a good scare when Poe flies like a maniac after you.

"Where are your friends, Dameron?" You ask, noticing that he's alone.

Seems like the rest of the Black Squadron descended on Jakku, or at the very least entered the planet's atmosphere before you got here. Unless Poe tells them what's going on by turning the long distance comms on, they won't know until they notice that he never followed them to Jakku. Perhaps it's better that way.

"It's just you and me," Poe mutters and feels his pulse quicken. His weapons are almost fully loaded now yet a small part of him knows that you're too quick and smart to just wait for him to blast your ship to pieces. This is a standoff that's just the start of your usual dance that you always, always, find a way out of.

BB-8 beeps at Poe, reminding him that he's there too.

"I know, buddy," Poe reassures the droid, turning off the comms while speaking to him. As he listens to the intense beeping, he smirks because he can tell BB-8 knows what's coming.

"Too bad. No one will be around to see you get your ass dragged," You sigh into the comms, riling him up. It's your specialty.

Poe shakes his head and rests his thumb on the buttons again, one click away from blasting you into Jakku's atmosphere. He hesitates.

"Why aren't you doing anything?" Poe asks, suspecting that something is off. You haven't tried to blast him, not even once. Are you... stalling? "Performance issues?"

PEW

Poe saw it coming from a mile away, the first red blast from your ship. He laughs as adrenaline courses through his veins, ducking from the rain of blasts coming his way. This little tug of war you've got going on is fun for him.

"Now we're talking, baby!"

"You're so weird," You groan and set off into a compelling chase.

Poe speeds up, avoiding your blasts like second nature. BB-8 screeches as it begins. Then at top speed, Poe lowers his ship and slows down. You fly right past him, surprised by his dropping speed. Now he's behind you. He clicks down on the blast button as green light flickers across his face with each beam.

Of course, none of them hit you. Poe has convinced himself that you're just a good enough pilot to avoid getting blasted too easily. It's a lot for him to even think that a first order spy is a good pilot. He thinks it's just an unfortunate truth. He'd never consider the thought that he avoids vital parts of your ship on purpose, because then he'd be taking mercy on an enemy. Poe can't do that.

You're leading him away from Jakku. Taking your sweet time.

Poe is stalling because he wants to give his squadron enough time to stop the weapons trade on Jakku. You're stalling because you think Poe is alone and you want to give the team on Jakku enough time to finish the trade. Poe feels like he has the upper hand. He just needs to keep you distracted for just a little longer...

"Have you thought about my offer?" Poe wonders curiously, speeding up behind you. Every time you meet like this, he asks you to switch sides. Or at least to consider it. However, the way he delivers his offer makes it hard to tell just how serious he is.

"How's this for an answer?" You reply angrily and make a 180. Poe takes a sharp right as you blast back at him, your beams meeting his and creating a bright firework effect. You both have to fly away from each other to regain composure.

Every time the answer is the same.

"Is that a maybe?" He teases and tries to lock the automatic target tracking system on you again. The box tries to lock around the dot that represents your ship on the screen but you're expertly flying side to side to avoid detection. Poe has to take aim manually.

"The thought of seeing you every day and taking orders from you makes me a bit sick, actually," You insist harshly.

"But you have no issue taking orders from Kylo Ren?" Poe raises his brow although you can't see him.

Silence.

Poe is surprised that you didn't have a lively remark up your sleeve at that. He finds it odd, considering your reputation as Kylo Ren's pet spy. Thought you'd be quicker to defend him.

"Don't question my alliances."

"Maybe I should? Maybe you should?" Poe pushes a bit more, giving you so many opportunities to surrender and switch sides. He's giving you more mercy than most others. Poe tells himself it's only because you have skills that the Resistance could use. That's all.

BB-8 beeps suddenly, warning Poe of company. Another dot appears on the radar, far away. It's not one of his own. Poe thinks you've got backup, so he says nothing. Just prepares to fight you and some other first order scumbag.

What happens next completely takes him by surprise.

The first order ship that appeared takes a shot at you.

"Kriff me!" Poe curses, shocked at the events that unfold before his eyes. He has to back off to avoid getting blasted as well. The other ship comes closer and Poe recognizes it.

That's Kylo Ren.

At the sight of the approaching vessel, Poe gets ready to get out of there and fast. He's on his own and even if he'd like to blast Kylo Ren into bits and pieces, he can't do it on his own. The smart move is to go to Jakku and rejoin the rest of the Black Squadron, who by now have probably sabotaged the weapons trade and that's why Kylo Ren is here.

Poe speeds up his ship, heading toward Jakku. Things just got real.

As he flies away, and his heart beats like crazy, Poe thinks about what just happened.

Kylo Ren blasted you down.

"Kriff," He curses again, slamming his hand at the cockpit dashboard. Maybe it's shock. Poe certainly didn't see that coming. The one person you've been loyal to just discarded of you like it was nothing. Poe just knows your ship crashed on Jakku. He shouldn't care. He should just keep moving, find his squad.

But a thought forms in the back of his mind. Poe should be responsible and make sure that you're dead. Yeah, so he can know for sure that you won't cause any more problems. That this chapter is over.

Poe changes his course and programs the systems to track your ship. BB-8 makes a concerned noise, worried about Poe.

"Just tying up loose ends," Poe explains to the droid. "She could be alive. She... could be..." He trails off. Poe can't believe what he saw.

Why would Kylo do that?! Why would he dispose of the best spy the first order has? Sure, you didn't spy in the traditional sense by being a mole or anything like that - you actually stalked your targets and stayed in the shadows most of the time, dug up information that most people would never find. Surely, a valuable asset for someone like Kylo Ren.

As Poe enters the atmosphere, beginning his descent on the dark side of Jakku, he locates the crash site. Then he flies toward it, his gut wrenching oddly as he thinks about what he might find. Poe tells himself he only feels this way because he's so shocked by Kylo's unexpected actions.

"He must be losing it," Poe mutters to BB-8, questioning Kylo's grip on reality and his sanity as the war gets worse with time - as does the pressure on both sides.

No matter how many times Poe checks the radar, he can't see any signs of Kylo following him. It's incredibly suspicious but Poe keeps going.

He lands behind a sand dune and instructs BB-8 to stay put.

Then he starts making his way to the crash site. He can smell it, the bitter smoke lingering in the air. Your ship is in pieces, halfway covered in sand and flames. Too remote and desolate that Jakku's infamous scavengers haven't come to collect parts yet. This looks bad.

Poe puts his hand on his blaster as he gets close, unsure if he can trust you if you're alive. It's dark outside, night having fallen upon this side of Jakku. A sand desert with no life in sight. Just your wrecked ship and a sky full of stars. The flames on the debris create a dim, orange glow.

Then he sees you.

You've managed to crawl out of the cockpit but you've slumped down only a few feet away from the ship. Bloody, bruised, helmet broken. It's a miracle your skull didn't take a bigger hit when you crashed. Poe doesn't even think about it, he runs up to you.

"You're alive," He says in shock. Then Poe freezes, unsure what to do.

You're his enemy. You've spied for the first order for the longest time. Even though Kylo Ren shot you down now, it doesn't erase your past.

You lift your head weakly to look him in the eye. Poe notices how tears mix with the blood on your face. Those eyes... even when you're full of anger, he hates to notice just how captivating you are. Surely an attribute that's helped you in your spying and scamming ways.

"What are you doing here?!" You ask him and groan in pain as you fail to push yourself up. It doesn't take a genius to tell that something is most certainly broken. Poe cringes as he sees how injured you are. He almost feels bad.

That's a good question.

He opens his mouth to speak. It's a rare moment of Poe Dameron feeling speechless.

A cold breeze of desert wind makes the flames dance a bit brighter, sand hitting you both in the face. Days on Jakku can be scorching hot but the nights are definitely a cold pain in the ass too.

"Too scared to finish the job?" You ask him in tears, unsure whether it's rage or the pain of betrayal that has you falling apart. Of course, you're aware that it was Kylo who shot you down. You saw him approaching the scene, thinking he was gonna back you up. Thinking he was gonna deal with the trade on Jakku. But no.

Kylo shot you down because he felt you were getting attached to the enemy, too soft-hearted to kill, therefore no longer trustworthy. Apparently, he could sense you had failed to use your full potential against Poe in battle. After everything you'd done for Kylo, he stopped trusting you because of the damn Resistance fly boy.

As you face Poe, in your weakest moment, you see your own failure reflected on his entire being. It's his fault!

"You...for maker's sake, you really should've questioned where your loyalty lies!" Poe scolds you and then covers his mouth with his hand, struggling to compose himself. He hates seeing you like this. Bloody, trembling in pain, too weak to get up. The rage in your eyes is unlike anything he's seen before.

"I was weak," You admit and hang your head in both shame and pain. There's a throbbing headache that's banging in your skull, making it hard to think. Is this it? Is Poe really the last person you'll see? Is this how it ends?

Poe grabs his blaster and takes a shaky breath. He paces a bit, kicking the scrap that's scattered across the dune as your ship fell apart. He knows what he should do.

"If you don't have the guts to finish the job, I'll die anyway," You tell him sharply, grasping onto your tough exterior. Even when facing potential death, you're hiding behind a wall of your own creation.

Poe turns to look at you with a dark look in his eyes. He just nods, indicating that he's listening to you. He hasn't felt this conflicted in a long, long time. The easy thing to do now is to kill you and no one would ever question it. You're an enemy.

"I'll either bleed out here or Kylo will send someone to finish the job," You explain, knowing the ways of the first order. No job is left unfinished or half-assed, at least not when Kylo is in charge. This was personal and he would hate to leave you living.

"You win," You whisper now, thinking about how many times you and Poe have been in battle. How many opportunities you've both had to kill or hurt the other yet you haven't, only prolonging this game of yours. It had to come to an end eventually.

"If you have mercy, you finish the damn job..."

Poe closes his eyes as he listens to you. He can't take it. His blood begins to boil the longer he stays uncharacteristically quiet and takes in your pitiful words. It's sickening that you believe what you're spewing.

"Mercy?" Poe snaps now, "You call this mercy?!"

The pain is getting worse as you use your last bits of strength to keep your head up, looking at Poe. Like tiny daggers sinking into your skin all over, white hot agony burning up your neck. There's probably scrap pieces of metal in your flesh, or at least it feels like it.

"You fool," Poe growls, but his voice cracks a bit. He pities you. "You should've...should've seen this coming..." Poe keeps lecturing, then he sinks down onto his knees. He grabs your shoulders and turns you around, making you lie on your back and stop using your strength to keep your head up.

The movement makes you wince in pain, although there's undeniable relief in being able to lie down. There's not even an attempt to fight back.

Being angry is exhausting. It's so damn tiring. Every day it's the mask you put on. Something to hide behind. The only way to make people take you seriously.

As you look up at the stars, you don't have the energy to be angry anymore. Instead, an overwhelming wave of sadness crashes over you. Like a blanket, weighing you down. It's cold and ugly, making your heart feel like is gonna tear to pieces. Maker be damned, you're crying in front of Poe Dameron.

"Well I didn't see it coming," The words leave your mouth in a whimper, lips forming a small pout. The lump in your throat is too hard to swallow or ignore. The emotions you've bottled for so long are finally spilling over.

Poe is surprised by the change in demeanour, sensing raw vulnerability. He looks at your injuries, trying to find the worst ones. Trying to help. He's hesitant, almost nervous as he brushes his fingers over your bloody shirt. He's never touched you this gently.

"Are you happy?"

Poe freezes for a second. You can see that his jaw is clenched and the vein on his forehead stands out. He looks so tense.

"No," Poe is honest, "I'm not. I don't think you were meant for this."

"You don't even know me."

"You're not meant to waste your skills on an useless organization like the first order and die while being loyal to an unpredictable maniacal hothead like Kylo Ren," Poe insists harshly, looking you directly in the eye. "I'm not happy. I made it clear long ago that I wanted you to switch sides and realize your potential. You still have that potential but you need to open your damn eyes!"

Taken aback by his rant, you just blink at him. To think this is the man you've been bantering with for a while now, always thinking it was out of pure spite. He actually saw good in you.

"I'm not like Finn."

Poe hates how stubborn you are. He clenches his jaw as he carefully lifts your shirt, revealing a nasty wound. He threads a thin line as he tries to remain respectful while also having to reveal your skin in order to assess the wounds. A piece of metal is lodged under your skin, bleeding crimson all over your skin, your shirt and now his hand. Poe doesn't try to remove the metal, knowing it's hindering even worse bleeding. He has no bacta spray on him but if he could get you to his ship, he could treat you.

"No, but he did the right thing and saw through all that first order nonsense. Others can do that too," Poe insists as he rips his shirt and uses the fabric to compress the wound. It's not clean but it'll have to do until he gets actual first aid supplies.

"Aaah!" You cry out sharply, squirming as he pushes the fabric into the biggest wound in your abdomen. It hurts like hell but it slows down the bleeding for now.

Poe hates hearing you cry out in pain.

"What are you doing?"

Poe can't believe what he's about to say;

"I'm saving your life."

Neither can you.

You close your eyes and grit your teeth, having no choice but to endure the pain. In a desperate attempt to understand what's happening, your brain rakes through every explanation but comes up empty. It makes no sense that Poe is helping you. He has no reason to.

"I don't deserve it..."

Poe's heart just breaks at that. He knows you're supposed to be his enemy but something tells him to help. That there's good in you and the reason you haven't killed him is because deep down you want Poe and the Resistance to succeed. He truly thinks you can do what Finn did and one day you'll laugh about how you were 'enemies'. That everything will be okay.

"Come on, let's get you up," Poe says surprisingly gently. He grabs you securely, under the arms as he lifts you up slowly. It hurts, it hurts so bad to even try to stand. But he's got you.

"What are you doing?" You ask again, choked up on tears and unable to phantom that someone like him would help someone like you. The sand is soft and unforgiving under your feet, forcing you to cling to Poe for support. Maybe it's instinctual, something deep and primal within you that clings onto survival, but you find yourself holding onto his arm and jacket so tightly that you're afraid you'll break him.

"There we go," Poe says softly and leads you toward his ship. His arm wraps around your waist as he supports you. There's truly nothing around these dunes. Just sand as far as the eye can see. Had he not come, there's no doubt in his mind that you would've bled out all alone in the cold. It's not a pleasant thought.

Finally, you reach his ship. Poe makes you sit down on the co-pilot seat. Then he begins to rummage through his stuff, finding the first aid kit that everyone is always supposed to keep onboard. He finds something that he can use. Bacta spray. Poe shakes the container and then uncaps it, spraying the cooling spray on your wound to disinfect it.

You watch as he works on you, patching you up so that you won't bleed out on him. Hopefully, you'll hold on until the Resistance base.

"You shouldn't help me."

"I probably shouldn't," Poe agrees and shrugs. He rips a package open with his teeth and grabs a handful of gauze. "You're really...messed up," He mutters as he sees the injuries in better lighting. It's disheartening to witness such wounds on anyone.

"I...I failed..." You whisper, leaning against the seat as reality begins to sink in. Kylo could sense it, there was no denying it. You were fully aware that you were going easy on Poe, letting him go when you had chances to hurt him, letting Poe defeat you on many missions. You hate Poe yet you let it happen. He's infuriating, always getting on your nerves yet you always prolonged every standoff with him. It makes no sense.

"What do you mean?" Poe asks gently as he throws bloody gauze away and uses fresh patches to soak up more blood. There's gotta be something else he can use in that kit. He drops more stuff on the floor of his ship as he tries to find something useful.

"I was supposed to kill you or... or capture you," The revelation doesn't really come as a surprise. Poe knows that he has quite the price on his head after becoming such a high-ranking member of the Resistance and successfully escaping from Kylo Ren's watch multiple times.

"But you haven't done that," Poe states the obvious.

You shake your head.

"I...I haven't. I didn't... I didn't want to," You confess. There it is. A simple truth. You didn't want to hurt or capture the enemy.

Poe stops in his tracks for a moment. He sighs deeply and meets your eye, his own eyes searching for answers so desperately, hoping that you can mend his own similar confusion. Why hasn't he let you die either? He's had many opportunities.

"Funny thing," Poe cracks a small smile although he's far from amused, "I haven't been able to kill you either, although I probably should've. And could've. You're a terrible pilot, got that auto tracker on you in seconds."

That's the Poe you're used to, a fucking smartass.

You chuckle, even at the cost of a shot of pain in the abdomen as your muscles tighten.

"Yeah yeah, I'm sure that's the case." A small curl tugs at the corners of your lips as well.

"Could've blasted you out of the sky a million times," Poe insists as he cleans your wounds. He's distracting you from the worst pain by talking and consequentially talking shit.

"Bad timing, you insensitive-"

"Woah, woah, woah!" Poe interrupts you before you can insult him and he laughs softly. "Don't I get a pass for coming here to save you?" He asks and then gives you a look that you can only describe as a man having puppy dog eyes. What's his issue and why is he so cute and charming?

"Whatever," You smirk and sigh shakily. His words don't actually offend. They're kind of comforting right now. Everything feels so scary as the life you know has changed completely. The moment Kylo shot you down, there was a disconnect from your previous life and the present.

"Everything's gonna be okay," Poe promises a bit more seriously now, "but you're gonna have to switch teams. Don't you want that?"

It's a valid question. The difference from the million times he's asked that before versus now is that Poe can see your expression.

Your gaze sinks to the floor as you think about it. It's an offer that has tempted you before but you've denied out of fear and an obscure sense of loyalty to someone you thought you could trust.

After thinking for a while, you finally break the silence.

"It's gonna suck to take orders from you," You mutter and gather the courage to face Poe. To see his reaction.

He seems happy. Relieved. It's weird that he can smile and trust that someone like you will turn out good. But if he believes in you, maybe there's hope.

"Don't knock it 'til you try it. Maybe you'll like it," Poe wiggles his brows playfully.

Your best friend usually told you everything, so if he left without saying goodbye...

"Have you seen Poe?" You asked a few dozen people throughout the day, even going so far as to find General Organa, pleading with her to tell you if he was off on a solo mission, or a secret one.

She assured you she had ordered no such mission.

So where was he?

Deciding to head back to your room to change for the festivities, you tried to shake off the anxiety prickling your skin. After a quick trip to the fresher, you put on your best outfit - which was basically the only thing you owned that wasn't Resistance-issued attire.

Upon checking Poe's room one final time, you reluctantly made your way to the mess hall, which, for the people remaining at the Resistance base, would serve as a dance floor.

Colorful strings of lights illuminated the dimly lit room, mismatchedbulbs from droids and ships and even various lanterns. Trinkets special to Resistance members were strung up here and there - good luck charms and souvenirs from missions - anything that would reflect and sparkle and shine.

As if holiday magic itself was guiding you, the sparkle of a familiar gold necklace glinted, catching your eye. All the sudden, there he was, sitting in a corner, surrounded by people, slurring his way through a story of battle glory.

Shit, he was already tipsy? Not good.

His dark brown eyes brightened as they landed on you.

"There you are," he laughed out, reaching out for you, suddenly ignoring the others vying for his attention. "I was just talking about you, come here."

Despite the fact that he was nestled in a corner booth, he insisted you shimmy your way to sit down beside him.

"Poe, it's okay, there's no room. I can just - "

"Nooo, 'sokay," he waved his hand dismissively before reaching up to pull on your sleeve. "Sit with me, right here. Been waiting for you."

Poe was so damn stubborn when he'd been drinking...which is how you ended up smooshed up against his side, halfway on his lap.

"You smell so good," he murmured, burying his nose behind your ear as his arm slid around your waist.

Nudging him with your shoulder, you couldn't help but smile. "How much have you had to drink? It's early."

The corner of his mouth curled knowingly as he touched his forehead to yours. "Started early. You weren't here to stop me."

Your face heated up at how flirty he seemed this evening. "What are you talking about? I've been looking for you everywhere."

"Not everywhere or you would have found me here," he shrugged, pushing his half empty drink toward you. "Gotta catch up."

"Uh, no thank you," you giggled, trying to find a comfortable sitting position that didn't land you all the way in Poe's lap. On second thought, maybe if you finished Poe's drink, you could keep an eye on what else he chose to imbibe for the rest of the evening.

"Actually, give me that." You downed it in a couple gulps, to Poe's great amusement and a whoop from your table mates.

"Okay, okay, you have to play the game too," a fellow pilot informed you, nodding to a cheap looking bottle of something or other in the middle of the table. "Truth or dare?"

You glared over at Poe. "Truth or dare? How old are we?"

"Four-hundred thirty-seven," an alien pilot opposite you teased. "Haven't played Truth or Dare since I was around two-hundred."

"Exactly," you decided to let a couple of centuries make your point.

"Come onnn, play with us," Poe breathed on your ear, goosing your ribs, which sent your backside jerking against his thigh as you shrieked in surprise. You nearly lost your balance, but Poe wrapped his arms around your torso to steady you.

"Truth or dare?" You were asked again.

With a groan, you decided on truth.

"You've hooked up with Commander Dameron," she declared. Everyone at the table leaned in, ready for your answer. You should have known.

"No, I haven't. That's the truth."

"Commander?" She challenged, fact-checking your statement with Poe.

"Don't ask me, it's not my turn," he mysteriously shrugged, which elicited some 'oooh's' and made you groan.

The game continued until it was Poe's turn. He choose truth and was posed the same question as you. His answer confirmed yours - no hookups between you. That fact didn’t stop his thumb from languidly tracing circles on your stomach as he held onto you.

On your next turn, you tried to avoid another probing question by choosing dare.

"Kiss Commander Dameron," the older alien pilot challenged. You felt a chuckle rumble in his chest.

"Fine," you shrugged, turning your head to peck him on the cheek. A chorus of 'boo's' went up, but you silenced them, letting them know they didn't specify where or how you had to kiss Poe.

So, naturally, when it was Poe's turn, he chose dare, and was dared to kiss you. On the mouth.

"Okay, time for bed," you decided, attempting to climb out of your crowded seat and off Poe's thigh, which you were certain had fallen asleep by now underneath your weight.

"Aw, don't go," Poe complained, keeping a loose hold on your wrist, but not holding you back, in case you really wanted to leave. "It won't be Life Day without you. Promise I won't kiss you."

Your eyes met his and you swore you saw a flicker of sadness dance across them. "Okay, I'll stay, but no more Truth or Dare." Hitching your thumb at your table mates you whispered, "They're ganging up on us."

"Then let's go dance," Poe proposed, releasing your wrist and clambering out of the booth and onto the dance floor. Just to make you laugh, he did a silly twirl and struck a pose before offering his hand. “Shall we?”

"Wow, you are so drunk," you cackled taking his hand and following him willingly.

You made it to the middle of the makeshift dance floor, and he pulled your hand to his chest, slipping his other arm around your waist as you began to sway to the music.

Smiling at him sweetly, you released his hand, pushing your fingers up over the exposed skin of his chest, revealed by one too many buttons unfastened. Not that you were complaining. Up your fingers traced, toying with the chain nestled there, over the smooth column of his neck. His throat bobbed under your touch.

Looping your arms around his neck, you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, swaying back and forth with a silly, dramatic flare, which earned a chuckle from Poe. His hands found your hips and squeezed, dragging you closer until your chest pressed against his and his forehead dropped to yours.

"What is going on with you?" You murmured, heart fluttering in your chest as you attempted to keep your wits about you.

"Nothing, just...really glad you're here. Missed you today," he whispered, alcohol tinged breath ghosting your lips.

"Could've fooled me. I couldn't find you anywhere, Poe. I thought you went back home for Life Day without even telling me."

"Without you? No," he shook his head as if trying to clear the cobwebs. "Not without you. Without telling you, I mean."

“But I couldn’t find you,” you insisted, resisting the urge to toy with the curls at the base of his neck. It felt good to be close to him - to have his attention. But he wasn't in his right mind and you couldn't take advantage of your friendship. "I thought maybe you were avoiding me. I was worried."

His gaze dropped, jaw clenching as your swaying eased to a stop. "I'm sorry."

In a group, drinking and telling stories, he could keep up a festive facade but you saw right through him.

"Hey," you softly redirected his gaze back to yours. "It's Life Day. You love Life Day. Right? The tree and the lights?"

"Yeah," he whispered, eyes flickering down to your lips. "I just...I'm not feeling so festive this year."

Stepping back, you ran your palms down his arms and took his hands. "Wanna get out of here? Let's get some air. We can look at the tree."

He nodded, following your lead out into the night, gripping your hand as if you might evaporate right before his eyes if he let go.

You walked quietly for several moments, cheeks burning as a few passersby noticed you holding hands with the Commander, prompting you to finally release your hold. Without the tether, Poe’s walking slowed, turning into a listless stumble, which was how you realized he might not be in any shape to take a stroll through the woods.

Perhaps he was better off tucked into a booth, surrounded by people. The fact that you misread the situation and his needs brought a wave of trepidation and regret. You stopped walking and turned to him, pressing your palms against his chest.

It took his mind a second to catch up, so you guided him around the side of the closest building - closed for the holiday. Steadying him up against the wall, with hands on his chest once more, you apologized. “I should take you back to your room.”

Gripping your elbows, he stared at you so intently it made your knees go weak. As your body swayed into his, he wrapped his arms around you, gathering you close. Mistaking it for a hug, albeit an intimate one, you turned your head to lay it on his chest, but his mouth met yours, capturing your lips in a breathy kiss.

All the air rushed out of you as he tasted you, spreading his hand over the curve of your back and pressing and pulling you into him harder. The heat of his tongue and the solid warmth of his body consumed you utterly and you found yourself kissing him back with fervor.

The sound of voices and a clattering bottle nearby jolted you out of...whatever this was, sending you stumbling back, dazed. You felt as drunk as Poe apparently was, but from him alone rather than the half drink you’d downed.

Poe, mistaking your withdrawal as rejection, reached for your arms, murmuring, "No, no, I'm sorry, don't go."

Noticing his obvious distress, you allowed his touch, gripping his biceps through his leather jacket. "It's okay. I'm here," you breathlessly gasped, mind reeling and heart pounding. "Let me take you back."

"I don't want you to go," he whimpered, grip on your forearms tightening. "Don't be mad. I don't want...I can't - "

"Hey," you soothed, touching his cheek to direct his bleary gaze to yours. "I won't leave you. Not ever."

This seemed to appease him and he followed your lead back to his room. Your instincts seemed to somehow be way off with him tonight, and you regretted tearing him away from the fun he seemed to be enjoying before you interrupted.

Maybe it was you. Perhaps that's why he'd avoided you all day. Hot tears burned your eyes as you guided him to lie down on his bed. As he pleaded with you not to go, again, you hushed him, swearing you wouldn't.

You worked his boots off his feet before helping him sit up to remove his jacket. Climbing into bed, you wrapped your arms around him, guiding him to lie down on your lap. His distress calmed almost instantly as he murmured, "thank you" a few times, burying his nose in your tummy.

"Love you so much," he whispered so faintly, you convinced yourself he must have said something else.

Raking your fingers through his slightly damp curls, you shushed him a few times, realizing you'd never seen him like this. Tipsy? Yes. Drunk? Maybe once or twice. Handsy? Always. But broken? Not like this.

He fell asleep in minutes and only then, did you let tears escape your eyes. Before long, you felt your eyes grow heavy, so you worked your way down onto the bed, hoping not to wake Poe.

Somehow, exhaustion mingled with the pounding in your heart - from worry, from sharing Poe's bed, from the flavor of alcohol on your lips from his kiss. And from the words he uttered - things he probably wouldn't even remember.

Sleep finally came, granting you both reprieve.

The next morning, you awoke while there was barely light in the sky. Since Poe was still asleep, you decided to freshen up a bit and get him some toast and something hot to drink. You crept out of his room and back again as quietly as you could manage.

Upon your return, you were surprised to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows digging into his knees and head in his hands. Dark curls tumbled over his fingers, obscuring his handsome face from you. His shoulders slumped defeatedly.

"Hey there," you softly greeted, presenting the tray of bland food and hot tea to him like an offering. "How are you feeling?"

"Like an asshole," he lamented, voice muffled by his hands.

"Well, I'm used to that," you attempted lightly. "But you had a lot to drink last night. What was that about?"

Raking his fingers down his face, he managed to face you then, eyes bloodshot and lips parched. It was kind of endearing to see him not looking completely perfect for once.

"First of all, tell me how pissed you are. I can take it." He visibly withdrew, waiting for your verdict on how he behaved last night.

"I'm not pissed," you assured him, "just really worried. Why don't you eat something and then we can talk?"

After Poe choked down some toast, you decided to swing by your room and change while he visited the fresher. You promised to return, and when you did, he was waiting for you with open arms.

Folding you close, he breathed on your ear how sorry he was, over and over, while you pressed your nose to the clean scent of his damp neck, exposed by the clean, thin shirt he wore.

Easing back, you reached to toy with the wet curls flipping out behind his ear. "What are you sorry for?"

"Where do I begin?" He scoffed, his gaze dropping. "I ruined your Life Day. I ignored you all day. Kissed you."

"So...you're sorry for kissing me," you clarified, your stomach dropping.

"Yes. No." He shook his head, confused. "I didn't want to be alone." He winced, regretting the words as they left his mouth.

Your jaw clenched as you struggled to maintain your composure. "So you're sorry for kissing me? Or you're sorry that you kissed me while you were drunk, just so you wouldn't be alone?"

Pacing away, one hand landed on his hip while the other tore through his hair. "That's not what I meant. I...I was trying to forget everything and just drink and have fun, but not with you."

Shit. Wrong wording. Again.

"So, that's why you avoided me all day." It wasn't a question. The realization of it stole your breath from your lungs and you sank down on the bed as tears burned your eyes.

"No, baby. No." Poe was quick to kneel down before you, reaching desperately for your hands. "This is...shit, this is coming out all wrong." Seeing tears pool in your beautiful, shining eyes seared his insides with guilt and shame - his companions ever since the events leading up to the Battle of Crait.

"Tell me what's going on," you whispered. "What did I do?"

"Nothing," he insisted, bringing your fingers to his lips and kissing them urgently.

"Too many people have died," he finally confessed, his head bowed and his voice a broken whisper. "It was supposed to be Life Day, but there's only death. We lost over half the fleet."

"I know."

"So many families couldn't celebrate Life Day. Too many." His eyes met yours, wet with fresh tears. "And how many of them are dead because of me?"

"Poe, we all know what we're signing up for when we join. We're all ready to give our lives, you know that. You can't possibly take the blame for what the First Order has done to us."

"There's blame enough for me to share, believe me," he insisted. "And I just couldn't hang anything on the tree yesterday and celebrate life. Not with over half of us gone."

Eyeing him sympathetically, you squeezed his hands. "Life Day isn't only about being alive. Death is a part of life. Life Day is also about remembering the dead. And part of living is grieving the dead, and sometimes feeling a little guilty that you're still here."

“But I don’t, though,” he admitted. “I’m glad I’m here, and more than that, I’m glad you’re here. You, most of all. You're the one person I don't wanna...that I can't..."

"Come here," you coaxed. Poe joined you on the bed but never let go of your hands. "You're my one person too, you know. The person I look for after every mission. The one person I need to be okay.

"It scared me so much yesterday when I couldn't find you," you went on.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles. "Please don't hate me for yesterday. It's been a long time since I had that much to drink. I know it's no excuse for what I did."

"So you don't remember, then...what you said?" You should have known Poe would only kiss you and utter heartfelt confessions when he was wasted.

Releasing your hand, he titled your chin up to meet his gaze. "I know what I said. I do love you. Always have." A nervous, breathless laugh escaped his perfect lips. "But I understand, you know, if you don't - "

You silenced him, pressing your mouth to his for a tender kiss. "Believe me. I do."

The sadness lingering behind his eyes started to seep away, replaced by a flicker of hope. "Is there any way we could re-do yesterday?" He proposed, tracing the shape of your jaw. "I only have one meeting today."

"That sounds perfect," you agreed, leaning into his touch.

Hand in hand, you visited the Life Day tree, said the prayers, remembered those lost. Then you had something to drink with friends - just one though, before dancing and laughing all evening.

When he kissed you this time, he meant to do it, and everyone saw it. And when you walked back to his room, he asked you to stay. And you did. Every night.

1000 Follower/Holiday Celebration Masterlist

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Your best friend usually told you everything, so if he left without saying goodbye...

"Have you seen Poe?" You asked a few dozen people throughout the day, even going so far as to find General Organa, pleading with her to tell you if he was off on a solo mission, or a secret one.

She assured you she had ordered no such mission.

So where was he?

Deciding to head back to your room to change for the festivities, you tried to shake off the anxiety prickling your skin. After a quick trip to the fresher, you put on your best outfit - which was basically the only thing you owned that wasn't Resistance-issued attire.

Upon checking Poe's room one final time, you reluctantly made your way to the mess hall, which, for the people remaining at the Resistance base, would serve as a dance floor.

Colorful strings of lights illuminated the dimly lit room, mismatchedbulbs from droids and ships and even various lanterns. Trinkets special to Resistance members were strung up here and there - good luck charms and souvenirs from missions - anything that would reflect and sparkle and shine.

As if holiday magic itself was guiding you, the sparkle of a familiar gold necklace glinted, catching your eye. All the sudden, there he was, sitting in a corner, surrounded by people, slurring his way through a story of battle glory.

Shit, he was already tipsy? Not good.

His dark brown eyes brightened as they landed on you.

"There you are," he laughed out, reaching out for you, suddenly ignoring the others vying for his attention. "I was just talking about you, come here."

Despite the fact that he was nestled in a corner booth, he insisted you shimmy your way to sit down beside him.

"Poe, it's okay, there's no room. I can just - "

"Nooo, 'sokay," he waved his hand dismissively before reaching up to pull on your sleeve. "Sit with me, right here. Been waiting for you."

Poe was so damn stubborn when he'd been drinking...which is how you ended up smooshed up against his side, halfway on his lap.

"You smell so good," he murmured, burying his nose behind your ear as his arm slid around your waist.

Nudging him with your shoulder, you couldn't help but smile. "How much have you had to drink? It's early."

The corner of his mouth curled knowingly as he touched his forehead to yours. "Started early. You weren't here to stop me."

Your face heated up at how flirty he seemed this evening. "What are you talking about? I've been looking for you everywhere."

"Not everywhere or you would have found me here," he shrugged, pushing his half empty drink toward you. "Gotta catch up."

"Uh, no thank you," you giggled, trying to find a comfortable sitting position that didn't land you all the way in Poe's lap. On second thought, maybe if you finished Poe's drink, you could keep an eye on what else he chose to imbibe for the rest of the evening.

"Actually, give me that." You downed it in a couple gulps, to Poe's great amusement and a whoop from your table mates.

"Okay, okay, you have to play the game too," a fellow pilot informed you, nodding to a cheap looking bottle of something or other in the middle of the table. "Truth or dare?"

You glared over at Poe. "Truth or dare? How old are we?"

"Four-hundred thirty-seven," an alien pilot opposite you teased. "Haven't played Truth or Dare since I was around two-hundred."

"Exactly," you decided to let a couple of centuries make your point.

"Come onnn, play with us," Poe breathed on your ear, goosing your ribs, which sent your backside jerking against his thigh as you shrieked in surprise. You nearly lost your balance, but Poe wrapped his arms around your torso to steady you.

"Truth or dare?" You were asked again.

With a groan, you decided on truth.

"You've hooked up with Commander Dameron," she declared. Everyone at the table leaned in, ready for your answer. You should have known.

"No, I haven't. That's the truth."

"Commander?" She challenged, fact-checking your statement with Poe.

"Don't ask me, it's not my turn," he mysteriously shrugged, which elicited some 'oooh's' and made you groan.

The game continued until it was Poe's turn. He choose truth and was posed the same question as you. His answer confirmed yours - no hookups between you. That fact didn’t stop his thumb from languidly tracing circles on your stomach as he held onto you.

On your next turn, you tried to avoid another probing question by choosing dare.

"Kiss Commander Dameron," the older alien pilot challenged. You felt a chuckle rumble in his chest.

"Fine," you shrugged, turning your head to peck him on the cheek. A chorus of 'boo's' went up, but you silenced them, letting them know they didn't specify where or how you had to kiss Poe.

So, naturally, when it was Poe's turn, he chose dare, and was dared to kiss you. On the mouth.

"Okay, time for bed," you decided, attempting to climb out of your crowded seat and off Poe's thigh, which you were certain had fallen asleep by now underneath your weight.

"Aw, don't go," Poe complained, keeping a loose hold on your wrist, but not holding you back, in case you really wanted to leave. "It won't be Life Day without you. Promise I won't kiss you."

Your eyes met his and you swore you saw a flicker of sadness dance across them. "Okay, I'll stay, but no more Truth or Dare." Hitching your thumb at your table mates you whispered, "They're ganging up on us."

"Then let's go dance," Poe proposed, releasing your wrist and clambering out of the booth and onto the dance floor. Just to make you laugh, he did a silly twirl and struck a pose before offering his hand. “Shall we?”

"Wow, you are so drunk," you cackled taking his hand and following him willingly.

You made it to the middle of the makeshift dance floor, and he pulled your hand to his chest, slipping his other arm around your waist as you began to sway to the music.

Smiling at him sweetly, you released his hand, pushing your fingers up over the exposed skin of his chest, revealed by one too many buttons unfastened. Not that you were complaining. Up your fingers traced, toying with the chain nestled there, over the smooth column of his neck. His throat bobbed under your touch.

Looping your arms around his neck, you tugged your bottom lip between your teeth, swaying back and forth with a silly, dramatic flare, which earned a chuckle from Poe. His hands found your hips and squeezed, dragging you closer until your chest pressed against his and his forehead dropped to yours.

"What is going on with you?" You murmured, heart fluttering in your chest as you attempted to keep your wits about you.

"Nothing, just...really glad you're here. Missed you today," he whispered, alcohol tinged breath ghosting your lips.

"Could've fooled me. I couldn't find you anywhere, Poe. I thought you went back home for Life Day without even telling me."

"Without you? No," he shook his head as if trying to clear the cobwebs. "Not without you. Without telling you, I mean."

“But I couldn’t find you,” you insisted, resisting the urge to toy with the curls at the base of his neck. It felt good to be close to him - to have his attention. But he wasn't in his right mind and you couldn't take advantage of your friendship. "I thought maybe you were avoiding me. I was worried."

His gaze dropped, jaw clenching as your swaying eased to a stop. "I'm sorry."

In a group, drinking and telling stories, he could keep up a festive facade but you saw right through him.

"Hey," you softly redirected his gaze back to yours. "It's Life Day. You love Life Day. Right? The tree and the lights?"

"Yeah," he whispered, eyes flickering down to your lips. "I just...I'm not feeling so festive this year."

Stepping back, you ran your palms down his arms and took his hands. "Wanna get out of here? Let's get some air. We can look at the tree."

He nodded, following your lead out into the night, gripping your hand as if you might evaporate right before his eyes if he let go.

You walked quietly for several moments, cheeks burning as a few passersby noticed you holding hands with the Commander, prompting you to finally release your hold. Without the tether, Poe’s walking slowed, turning into a listless stumble, which was how you realized he might not be in any shape to take a stroll through the woods.

Perhaps he was better off tucked into a booth, surrounded by people. The fact that you misread the situation and his needs brought a wave of trepidation and regret. You stopped walking and turned to him, pressing your palms against his chest.

It took his mind a second to catch up, so you guided him around the side of the closest building - closed for the holiday. Steadying him up against the wall, with hands on his chest once more, you apologized. “I should take you back to your room.”

Gripping your elbows, he stared at you so intently it made your knees go weak. As your body swayed into his, he wrapped his arms around you, gathering you close. Mistaking it for a hug, albeit an intimate one, you turned your head to lay it on his chest, but his mouth met yours, capturing your lips in a breathy kiss.

All the air rushed out of you as he tasted you, spreading his hand over the curve of your back and pressing and pulling you into him harder. The heat of his tongue and the solid warmth of his body consumed you utterly and you found yourself kissing him back with fervor.

The sound of voices and a clattering bottle nearby jolted you out of...whatever this was, sending you stumbling back, dazed. You felt as drunk as Poe apparently was, but from him alone rather than the half drink you’d downed.

Poe, mistaking your withdrawal as rejection, reached for your arms, murmuring, "No, no, I'm sorry, don't go."

Noticing his obvious distress, you allowed his touch, gripping his biceps through his leather jacket. "It's okay. I'm here," you breathlessly gasped, mind reeling and heart pounding. "Let me take you back."

"I don't want you to go," he whimpered, grip on your forearms tightening. "Don't be mad. I don't want...I can't - "

"Hey," you soothed, touching his cheek to direct his bleary gaze to yours. "I won't leave you. Not ever."

This seemed to appease him and he followed your lead back to his room. Your instincts seemed to somehow be way off with him tonight, and you regretted tearing him away from the fun he seemed to be enjoying before you interrupted.

Maybe it was you. Perhaps that's why he'd avoided you all day. Hot tears burned your eyes as you guided him to lie down on his bed. As he pleaded with you not to go, again, you hushed him, swearing you wouldn't.

You worked his boots off his feet before helping him sit up to remove his jacket. Climbing into bed, you wrapped your arms around him, guiding him to lie down on your lap. His distress calmed almost instantly as he murmured, "thank you" a few times, burying his nose in your tummy.

"Love you so much," he whispered so faintly, you convinced yourself he must have said something else.

Raking your fingers through his slightly damp curls, you shushed him a few times, realizing you'd never seen him like this. Tipsy? Yes. Drunk? Maybe once or twice. Handsy? Always. But broken? Not like this.

He fell asleep in minutes and only then, did you let tears escape your eyes. Before long, you felt your eyes grow heavy, so you worked your way down onto the bed, hoping not to wake Poe.

Somehow, exhaustion mingled with the pounding in your heart - from worry, from sharing Poe's bed, from the flavor of alcohol on your lips from his kiss. And from the words he uttered - things he probably wouldn't even remember.

Sleep finally came, granting you both reprieve.

The next morning, you awoke while there was barely light in the sky. Since Poe was still asleep, you decided to freshen up a bit and get him some toast and something hot to drink. You crept out of his room and back again as quietly as you could manage.

Upon your return, you were surprised to find him sitting on the edge of the bed, elbows digging into his knees and head in his hands. Dark curls tumbled over his fingers, obscuring his handsome face from you. His shoulders slumped defeatedly.

"Hey there," you softly greeted, presenting the tray of bland food and hot tea to him like an offering. "How are you feeling?"

"Like an asshole," he lamented, voice muffled by his hands.

"Well, I'm used to that," you attempted lightly. "But you had a lot to drink last night. What was that about?"

Raking his fingers down his face, he managed to face you then, eyes bloodshot and lips parched. It was kind of endearing to see him not looking completely perfect for once.

"First of all, tell me how pissed you are. I can take it." He visibly withdrew, waiting for your verdict on how he behaved last night.

"I'm not pissed," you assured him, "just really worried. Why don't you eat something and then we can talk?"

After Poe choked down some toast, you decided to swing by your room and change while he visited the fresher. You promised to return, and when you did, he was waiting for you with open arms.

Folding you close, he breathed on your ear how sorry he was, over and over, while you pressed your nose to the clean scent of his damp neck, exposed by the clean, thin shirt he wore.

Easing back, you reached to toy with the wet curls flipping out behind his ear. "What are you sorry for?"

"Where do I begin?" He scoffed, his gaze dropping. "I ruined your Life Day. I ignored you all day. Kissed you."

"So...you're sorry for kissing me," you clarified, your stomach dropping.

"Yes. No." He shook his head, confused. "I didn't want to be alone." He winced, regretting the words as they left his mouth.

Your jaw clenched as you struggled to maintain your composure. "So you're sorry for kissing me? Or you're sorry that you kissed me while you were drunk, just so you wouldn't be alone?"

Pacing away, one hand landed on his hip while the other tore through his hair. "That's not what I meant. I...I was trying to forget everything and just drink and have fun, but not with you."

Shit. Wrong wording. Again.

"So, that's why you avoided me all day." It wasn't a question. The realization of it stole your breath from your lungs and you sank down on the bed as tears burned your eyes.

"No, baby. No." Poe was quick to kneel down before you, reaching desperately for your hands. "This is...shit, this is coming out all wrong." Seeing tears pool in your beautiful, shining eyes seared his insides with guilt and shame - his companions ever since the events leading up to the Battle of Crait.

"Tell me what's going on," you whispered. "What did I do?"

"Nothing," he insisted, bringing your fingers to his lips and kissing them urgently.

"Too many people have died," he finally confessed, his head bowed and his voice a broken whisper. "It was supposed to be Life Day, but there's only death. We lost over half the fleet."

"I know."

"So many families couldn't celebrate Life Day. Too many." His eyes met yours, wet with fresh tears. "And how many of them are dead because of me?"

"Poe, we all know what we're signing up for when we join. We're all ready to give our lives, you know that. You can't possibly take the blame for what the First Order has done to us."

"There's blame enough for me to share, believe me," he insisted. "And I just couldn't hang anything on the tree yesterday and celebrate life. Not with over half of us gone."

Eyeing him sympathetically, you squeezed his hands. "Life Day isn't only about being alive. Death is a part of life. Life Day is also about remembering the dead. And part of living is grieving the dead, and sometimes feeling a little guilty that you're still here."

“But I don’t, though,” he admitted. “I’m glad I’m here, and more than that, I’m glad you’re here. You, most of all. You're the one person I don't wanna...that I can't..."

"Come here," you coaxed. Poe joined you on the bed but never let go of your hands. "You're my one person too, you know. The person I look for after every mission. The one person I need to be okay.

"It scared me so much yesterday when I couldn't find you," you went on.

"I'm so sorry," he repeated, rubbing his thumbs over your knuckles. "Please don't hate me for yesterday. It's been a long time since I had that much to drink. I know it's no excuse for what I did."

"So you don't remember, then...what you said?" You should have known Poe would only kiss you and utter heartfelt confessions when he was wasted.

Releasing your hand, he titled your chin up to meet his gaze. "I know what I said. I do love you. Always have." A nervous, breathless laugh escaped his perfect lips. "But I understand, you know, if you don't - "

You silenced him, pressing your mouth to his for a tender kiss. "Believe me. I do."

The sadness lingering behind his eyes started to seep away, replaced by a flicker of hope. "Is there any way we could re-do yesterday?" He proposed, tracing the shape of your jaw. "I only have one meeting today."

"That sounds perfect," you agreed, leaning into his touch.

Hand in hand, you visited the Life Day tree, said the prayers, remembered those lost. Then you had something to drink with friends - just one though, before dancing and laughing all evening.

When he kissed you this time, he meant to do it, and everyone saw it. And when you walked back to his room, he asked you to stay. And you did. Every night.

1000 Follower/Holiday Celebration Masterlist

It was late last year, after one of many missions in the Outer Rim. You’d been having a drink at the Cantina, drowning your sorrows after the loss of a friend. He’d been doing the same for similar reasons. You’d gotten to chatting, commiserating, slinging back drink after drink, and had soon ended up outside Poe’s quarters sloppily making out against the door. He’d been solid, and warm—and such a good kisser—and Maker, you’d just needed the comfort he was offering. So, you’d slept together. You don’t remember too much, just flashes here and there, but it must’ve been awful because the next morning, he was nowhere to be found. You’d been embarrassed to say the least but thankfully you didn’t really run in the same circles. You’d never told anyone about it and it appeared he hadn’t either, so you’d just tried to forget about it.

“Poe,” you say, voice shaking slightly. “Long time no see.”

He has the decency to look at least a little uncomfortable, which gives you some hope that he’s not a complete nerf herder. 

“About that–”

You cut him off with a hand, shaking your head. “I don’t wanna talk about it.”

He pauses, lips still parted. He nods after a moment, briefly averting his gaze.

An awkward silence falls between you before he breaks it with a question. “Still drink spice rum?”

Your eyes widen a little in surprise—he remembered your preferred drink? “Oh, um, yes.”

He smiles gesturing toward the bar. “Can I get you one?”

After a moment’s hesitation, you nod. So, this date was still on then?

He returns and hands you the glass of rum, just the smell of it putting you a little more at ease. “Thanks.”

Silence falls between you again, but it’s less awkward somehow. 

“How’s BB-8?” you ask, gingerly sipping on your drink.

Poe’s eyes light up at the mention of his droid and it kind of warms your heart a little. “He’s good, thanks. Just got back from a mission in the Mid Rim so he’s getting cleaned up by the techs at the moment.”

You nod, trying to make yourself relax a little. “So the mission was successful then? I know you can’t go into details but…”

He nods enthusiastically, his mouth otherwise occupied with his Jet Juice. “Yes, definitely successful.”

“Good,” you reply, wetting your lips.

Poe’s gaze briefly drops to your mouth and your skin heats. You swallow hard, the memory of what kissing him felt like popping into your mind unbidden.

Kriffing hell, you had to get out of here.

But you don’t, instead choosing to torture yourself with more awkward conversation. You talk about a lot of things, but none of it feels natural. Not even after four spice rums. Finally, after what feels like an eternity, he offers you an out, explaining that he has an early call tomorrow. Relieved, you jump to your feet, swaying a little, your head spinning a little. Maker, maybe four spice rums was too many on an empty stomach…

You feel Poe’s hands on your shoulders as he tries to help steady you, a concerned look on his face. 

“You okay?”

You chuckle, slightly embarrassed. “I think I just…stood up too fast.”

He looks unconvinced but doesn’t try to stop you as you move to walk away from the table you’d been sitting at, your legs feeling like jelly. 

“Hey, um, maybe I should walk you back?” he offers, eyebrows raising hopefully.

You shake your head, then immediately regret it, the quick movement making the room spin.

“Okay,” you hear Poe say, his warm, strong hands steadying you once more. “I’ve got you, it’s alright.”

He threads your arm through his, his voice soft as he directs you to wrap your fingers around his forearm for more balance. It gets better the longer you walk, your feet less clumsy, the room less…spinny. You’re pretty much back to normal by the time you make it to your quarters.

Wordlessly, you key the door code in, the familiar snick of the door opening reaching your ears.

“Thanks for walking me back,” you tell him softly, staring resolutely at your feet.

“Of course, anytime,” he says, slowly releasing you from his hold. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine,” you chuckle breathlessly, stealing a brief glance at him. “Just a little embarrassed.”

He tsks, leaning his shoulder against the wall beside the door. “Embarrassed? What for? Not like I haven’t seen you drunk before.”

You snort, shaking your head at the low blow. “This is true.”

He’s smiling when you finally meet his eyes, the tension between you thawing slightly. You stare at each other for a moment, Poe’s face shifting before he looks away. He chews his lip, drawing your attention as he says, “I know you said you didn’t want to talk about it but—”

“I still don’t,” you interject, averting your gaze once more. “Look, I get it. It was bad. Let’s  just…be adults and move on, okay?”

Poe’s brow furrows at your words. “What was bad?”

You scoff, not daring to meet his gaze. “You know.”

“I really don’t,” he argues, sounding genuinely perplexed.

You sigh, annoyance flickering in your chest. “The sex obviously.”

“Y–you thought it was bad?” he asks after a beat, stepping a little closer to you.

His proximity forces you to meet his eyes.

“You’re the one that left,” you whisper, swallowing thickly as you begin to walk into your room. “Good night, Poe.”

His hand on your bicep halts your progress and you snap your head back toward him, the quick movement making the hallway spin for a moment. 

“You were the one that left.”

Your mouth opens and closes wordlessly before you respond. “What?”

Poe leans in, close enough that you can feel his breath against your cheek. “I left to go get breakfast for both of us and when I came back, you were gone.”

No, that’s…that’s not possible…Is it? 

“I–,” you begin, exhaling heavily. “When I woke up, you were gone. So I thought—-”

He curses under his breath, releasing your arm as he runs a hand through his curls. “Listen, I would never—,” He pauses, swallowing hard before continuing. “I’m so sorry you woke up alone.”

His words ignite a spark in your chest, the warmth of it permeating, spreading out toward your fingertips. “Thanks.”

“Could we—,” he begins, wetting his lips. “Could we maybe start over?”

You smile softly, meeting his earnest brown eyes. “I think I’d like that.”

He smiles back, relieved.

—

The next date you have ends in Poe's quarters again, but this time you remember every second—every kiss, every sigh, every brush of skin against skin. It's so good. He makes sure you know he's still there in the morning, too, waking you up with his head between your thighs.

Maybe your friends were right, maybe he is actually The Perfect Guy.

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

🌟 Masterlist 🌟

Once you make it to the front, you greet the cashier (Finn), make a comment about the crowd, and order your usual. You stand to the side, scrolling through your phone as you wait for the barista to call out your name for pickup. They do so a few minutes later, your cup sitting on the table beside the counter. You call out a thank you as you grab it, your attention reclaimed by an incoming call. As you slip out the door, you answer, chatting idly with your friend Rose as you make your way down the sidewalk. You take a sip from the cup and hum, the warm liquid seeping into your belly and warming you from the inside out. 

You hang up with Rose when you reach your destination, pausing outside to drain the rest of your coffee. Satisfied, you move to toss the empty cup into a nearby trash can, halting when you notice writing beneath the cardboard sleeve.

If you were a triangle you’d be acute one.

You blink, staring at the writing blankly for a moment, before huffing out a laugh. 

This barista, it seems, has a thing for bad pick up lines.

You snap a photo of the cup before tossing it into the trash, chuckling again to yourself as you head inside and out of the cold.

—

You stop in again about a week later. Your workday had run late and you were convinced that the only thing that could fix it was a coffee from your favorite place. There’s a girl at the register this time named Rey and she smiles warmly at you when it’s your turn to order. Somehow, her smile makes you feel a little lighter as you head over to the side to wait for your drink and you’re grateful to her for it.

As you wait, you allow yourself to people watch, briefly considering whether or not to snag the table the man in the corner just got up from when your phone vibrates. Cursing quietly, you quickly grab it from your pocket. Just as you’re about to answer, your name is called by the barista. You return your phone to your pocket, deciding you’ll call whoever it was back later as you head over to the counter. 

The barista is a man with dark hair and kind eyes that you’ve seen a few times before but don’t recall knowing the name of. Your eyes flick to where his name tag should be, but are disappointed to see only an empty space. Ignoring the disappointment that lances through you, you meet his eyes, smiling at him as he hands you the cup, your fingers brushing against his.

“Thanks,” you say, nodding politely as you back away.

“You’re welcome,” he responds, his smile as soft as his eyes.

Something flutters in your belly as you turn away, clutching the cup to your chest. 

Your phone rings again as you push open the door and you scoff, taking it from your pocket and standing off to the side as you answer it. You sip on your drink as your boss rants about one thing or another, and you have to fight not to roll your eyes. Just as you’re about to walk away, you notice writing beneath the cardboard sleeve. Giddiness swells in your chest as you pull it down with your thumb, your teeth digging into your bottom lip.

If you were a Transformer, you’d be Optimus Fine.

You try to smother your smile at the cheesy line but it spreads across your lips nonetheless. You’re half-hoping he’s not paying attention when you glance back inside the shop, your skin warming a little when his gaze meets yours. He nods at you through the window, smile somehow both bashful and smug. You nod back, raising your cup to him as you take another sip.

His attention is reclaimed by his next customer, jolting you back to reality. A reality where your boss is calling your name through your phone. You apologize, asking them to continue as you start to walk away. As you do, you steal one last glance inside, smiling to yourself as you head home for the evening.

—

You visit again a few days later, your belly fluttering with nervous excitement. As you wait in line, you crane your neck to try and get a look at the day’s baristas, but are again thwarted by the massive coffee machines blocking your view. Sighing, you wait your turn, smiling at Finn once you make it up to the counter. 

Once you realize your admirer does not appear to be working today, you sigh, your excitement somewhat dampened. You pass the time on your phone as usual, mindlessly scrolling through news and various social media sites you’re subscribed to. Absorbed, you jolt when your name is called a moment later, head quickly snapping in the direction of the voice.

It’s him.

He smiles when your eyes meet his and you can’t help but smile back. Something in his gaze ignites your insides, burning gently beneath your skin as you approach the counter. He waits there for you, sliding your cup toward you once you make it there.

“Thanks,” you say, breath hitching slightly when your fingers brush his.

He nods, the barest hint of pink on his cheeks. “Any time.”

Your eyes dip bashfully, catching on the name badge pinned to his shirt. 

Poe. His name is Poe.

He looks like he’s about to say something, but then another employee calls his name and he turns away. Disappointment washes over you and the moment is broken. Not wanting to hold up the line any longer than you already have, you move out of the way, pulling the cardboard sleeve of the cup down expectantly.

 I'd like to take you to the movies, but they don't let you bring in your own snacks.

His phone number is beneath it.

You press your lips together in an attempt to subdue the maniacal smile trying to spread across your face, chancing another look at Poe. Your heart skips a little when your eyes meet his again. He raises a questioning brow at you, you feel your skin heat, quickly nodding in acknowledgment and all but running from the shop. You’ll text him later to work out the details once you’ve gathered your courage a bit.

—

He’s already waiting when you arrive, shifting on his feet by the entrance to the theater as he scans the crowd for you. He looks good, his white t-shirt a black leather jacket, tight dark-washed jeans, and combat boots giving him a bit of a bad boy vibe. Butterflies flutter in your belly as you make a beeline for him through the crowd. His eyes light up the moment he spots you and you can’t help the little jump your heart does when he smiles.

“Hey,” you greet breathlessly, praying your smile doesn’t look as maniacal as it feels.

“Hey,” he responds, his smile soft as he reaches his hand out to you. 

You take it of course, your breath catching at the contact. It’s a little juvenile perhaps, the silly way your body is reacting to him, but you can’t seem to help it; there’s something special about him, you can feel it in your bones, in your soul. 

You chat with Poe briefly as the two of you walk inside the theater, your hands still clasped. The movie is good, or at least you think it is. Honestly, you were so focused on him, you barely even remember it. You share a bucket of popcorn, your hands brushing every other time either of you reaches for another handful. He’s so warm beside you, so solid, his presence oddly comforting given how little you know about him. 

After the movie, he takes you to his favorite food truck, insisting that popcorn is not a sufficient enough meal. You sit on a bench nearby, talking and laughing as you eat and it’s nice, so nice. He tells you about his family, about his lifelong dream of being a pilot, about his cat Bee Bee, and you, in turn, divulge your own life stories, tell him about your dreams. Needless to say, the night ends far too quickly and, even though it’s almost midnight, you don’t want to go home, don’t want to go back to a life that doesn’t have him in it. He walks you home but you’re at the steps that lead into your apartment far too soon.

“This is me,” you tell him, gesturing to the door behind you, your other hand clasped loosely in his. 

You want to invite him inside, want him to stay so you can keep talking to him, can keep looking at him (because damn it if he doesn’t get more and more attractive by the minute). He hums, nodding as he takes a step toward you, the action forcing your gaze to his.

“So,” he breathes, a mischievous look in his eyes, “Are you gonna kiss me or do I have to lie to my diary?”

You snort, shaking your head at him as you try (and fail) to bite back an amused chuckle. He beams, as if making you laugh is his favorite pastime. You pretend to consider his question, looking at him slyly from beneath your lashes, then grab ahold of his jacket and pull him closer. He melts when your lips touch his, his free hand coming up to cradle your cheek. He’s warm, the taste of him sweet with just a hint of spice. Neither of you wants it to end but, regrettably, air is a necessity and you’re forced to pull away, pressing your foreheads together as you try to regain your respective breaths.

“Goodnight,” you breathe, smiling at him softly. 

He smiles back, caressing your cheek with his thumb. “Goodnight.”

—

At some point—you’re not 100% sure when—the bad pickup lines just become his Thing; not a day goes by where he doesn’t find a way to sneak at least one into a conversation. Some are cheesy as hell (“Four plus four equals eight, but you plus me equals fate.”), while others are so bad they’re hilarious (“Did it hurt when you fell from the vending machine? Because you look like a snack.”). Strangely though, it just makes you fall for him more.

You’ve been dating for a few months now, spending as much time together as your schedules allow. It’s the end of a long, grueling week and all you’d both wanted to do was stay in and veg. You and Poe sit on the couch, curled against each other as you watch some mindless action film. It’s getting late and you’re starving but you have zero desire to cook anything for dinner and you doubt he does either.

“What do you wanna order for dinner, babe?” you ask, you hand splayed against his chest.

He hums, considering, then says, “Pizza?”

You make a noise of agreement; pizza does sound good right now. You’re so comfortable though, nestled against Poe’s side, your head resting on his shoulder.

“Can you call it in? Please?” you ask, looking up at him with pleading eyes. “You’re so much better at it than me.”

Poe snorts, looking at you in amusement. “I’m better than you at ordering pizza? Careful with the compliments, sweetheart, I might get a big head.”

Immediately, he reaches for his phone, dialing the number for your favorite pizza place. You smile at him brightly, then lean in to press a kiss to his cheek.

“My hero,” You tease, chuckling when he playfully rolls his eyes.

The pizza comes and it gets eaten quickly and soon you’re both nodding off on the couch, another movie playing in the background. Poe nudges you gently, and when you look up at him in question, he smiles. 

“Wanna share your side of the bed tonight?” he asks, quirking his brow suggestively.

You laugh, shaking your head as you playfully smacking his chest. “You’re ridiculous.”

His eyes shine at your joy as he gasps somewhat theatrically. “Wow, a simple ‘no’ would have sufficed.”

You chuckle, slipping your hand up his neck to tangle in his curls. 

“I never said it was a no,” you whisper, pulling him close and claiming his lips in a kiss.

—

You move in together several months into your relationship, a slightly bigger place with just a tad more space, and even a little terrace that Bee Bee likes to sun on. The two of you quickly fall into a routine, waking up early, going to work, coming home, making dinner together. Poe gets up a little earlier than you thanks to his shifts at the Hutt and has taken to making you breakfast and lunch every day. Nothing fancy, just some coffee and toast, a sandwich and some carrot sticks. 

His penchant for bad pick-up lines has yet to wane, he’s even taken to writing them down. He leaves you little notes everywhere, be it in the apartment, your pockets, in your lunchbag. You smile fondly as you open today’s note, chuckling softly at its contents (“Hey, tie your shoes! I don’t want you falling for anyone else.”).

When you make it home that night, he’s already there, lounging on the couch. You greet him with a smile, dropping your things at the door and sitting down beside him. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” he says, his voice soft as he wraps his arm around you and pulls you against his side.

You smile, leaning in to peck his lips. “Hi,” you whisper as you pull away, shifting to settle against his side.

He smiles back, his eyes roaming over your face languidly, as if he’s committing every detail of you to memory. 

“Ya know,” he begins, his voice gentle and low, “If I had a nickel for every time I saw someone as beautiful as you, I’d have five cents.”

You sniff a laugh, your skin heating at the compliment, at the way he’s looking at you. You’re not sure you’ll ever get used to it, to his sincerity, to the unabashed love that shines in his eyes. It’s clear that he means every word, no matter how cheesy.

“You’re a sap, you know that,” you tease, leaning in to kiss him again.

He hums, smiling against your lips. “I’ve been called worse things.”

You chuckle as you pull away, gazing at him fondly for a moment before shifting to settle against his chest.

He sighs contentedly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. You both watch the television in silence for a minute, your fingers mindlessly tracing the chain beneath his t-shirt. Not for the first time, you think about how lucky you are to have this, to have him. He makes you happier than you’ve ever been and you’re so grateful to have him in your life.

—

Sunday mornings are your favorite, not only because you get to sleep in but also because Poe does as well. Waking up with him wrapped around you is the highlight of your week, the warm solidness of him feeling more like home than any building ever has. Today though, you wake up alone, his side of the bed mussed and cold, as if he’s been up for hours. You frown, wondering for a moment if you’d gotten the days wrong.

Then you notice the smell of freshly-brewed coffee, hear faint clanging in the kitchen just outside the bedroom door. You smile softly, realizing Poe must be out there making breakfast and sit up, stretching all the kinks from your neck and back. Just as you’re sliding out from beneath the covers, the door swings open and in walks Poe. He smiles when he sees that you’re already awake.

“Morning, sweetheart.”

You walk over, smiling as you grab ahold of his t-shirt and pull his mouth to yours. You hum at the taste of him. 

“Good Morning, indeed.”

He chuckles as you pull away, letting his gaze linger on your face. “I made you breakfast.”

You sigh, hand resting on his chest. “You’re too good to me, you know that, right?”

He tsks, pressing a kiss against your cheek. “If anyone is too good, it’s you. Now c’mon.”

You follow him from the room, his hand clasped loosely in yours. Your heart skips in your chest when he guides you over to the table and see all your favorites beautifully laid out, the table set for two.

“Poe—” you begin, so touched by this display. 

“Sit,” he insists, his voice soft. “I’ll go grab the coffee.”

You nod, smiling as he turns away, then settle down into the chair to wait. Your attention is reclaimed by the food as soon as he’s out of sight, a warm ache settling in your chest. He was always doing stuff like this, sweet man that he is, and it’s rarely ever for any particular reason, it’s always just because he wants to. 

Poe returns a few minutes later, a mug in each hand, and sets them both on the table. He’s about to join you, when he pauses, patting his pants pockets. 

“Oops, forgot something,” he mutters, heading back to the kitchen.

While you wait for him to return, you gaze again at the table and notice something you hadn’t before: the corner of a bright pink post-it note poking out from beneath your plate. You sniff a laugh, knowing it’s likely one of his little notes. 

I always thought happiness started with an ‘h,’ but it turns out mine starts with ‘u.’

He’s beside you again before you realize he’s even returned to the room, and just as you’re turning to look at him, he drops to one knee.

Your heart skips in your chest, mouth falling open in shock as you meet his gaze. “Poe?”

He smiles, eyes shining as he takes your hand and slips a ring—his mother’s ring—onto your finger.

“Well?” he asks softly, raising his eyebrow in question. “Wanna marry me?”

You chuckle, tears pricking your eyes as you look down at your entwined hands then back at him. You swallow thickly, taking a deep breath to quell your nerves.

“One condition,” you whisper, leaning a little closer. “No pick up lines in your vows.”

“No promises, sweetheart,” he chuckles, a teasing glint in his eyes as he leans in for a kiss.

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

🌟 Masterlist 🌟 🍵Coffee & Cream Zine🍵

Fucking hell.

You’d spend the better part of the last thirteen manic hours tracking him down, going from trader to trader until you got here, a meeting with the quadrant Tsar. 

He was a large Terlion, powerful in his golden armour. He’d greeted you in his native tongue, and you knew enough about the culture of Tel’Ra to reply in basic. If you even said one word in the Tsar’s language then that was all he would speak, and everything would get very messy. 

“This… humanoid,” the Tsar formed the word slowly, “He is yours?” 

You nod and he pauses.

“I paid good coin for him.”

“So you admit he’s here?” You keep your tone even and calm. 

The Tsar smiles and gestures to one of his guards, speaking in Krazel. You understand enough of the language to understand that they’re bringing Poe here. 

Relief floods your veins, that was something at least. 

“The traders had no right to sell him to you.” You repeat. 

“But a trade was made, wasn’t it? You received goods for him?” The Tsar smiles.

“The trade was for Keseun. Not him.” You swallow, the guards in the room make your skin crawl, there were too many. Even if they had been troopers there was no way you could get out of an altercation alive, besides Terlions were large, physically powerful. One alone could snap you in half with two fingers. 

You keep your chin held high, they respected confidence, straightforwardness. They wouldn’t attack unless you made a faux pas. 

The resistance needed them to stay outwardly neutral to the rebellion. The planet was no fan of the first order, but would trade with anyone that showed respect. 

You couldn’t blow this. 

“Keseun.” The Tsar repeats, stroking his chin. 

“I would offer you the same, for this inconvenience.” 

He nods slightly, thinking when the door opens and Poe is pushed into the room.

You try your very best to hide the shock on your face.

You’d assumed that he had been sold as a labourer, or a servant. Not as… not as a… 

Your gaze hinges on his scantily clad form, soft thin fabrics and lace and dripped in gold jewellery. 

Your mouth dries as heat runs along your skin. That’s when you notice his expression, the relief plasters all over his face as he sees you. 

You shake your head ever so slightly, trying to clear your not so pure thoughts, and chastising yourself. 

“This is the humanoid?” The Tsar asks, beckoning with his hand. The guard pushes Poe forward to him. 

He stumbles slightly, and you see the gold chains are not just for decoration. 

“Yes.” You nod. 

Now that he’s closer you can see the thin gold bar across his lips, the chain connecting around the back of his head, keeping his mouth closed.

The Tsar touches Poe’s cheek, grabbing hold of the back of his neck when he struggles and flinches away. He chuckles. “He is a spirited one.” He pulls Poe closer, forcing him into his lap and you stand, anger blazing through your veins. 

The guards around you tense, but you keep your hands open and away from your weapons.

The Tsar laughs again, waving his hand and the guards relax. 

Poe looks at you imploringly, at first you think he is begging for your help. But then you realise he is pleading for you to leave, for you to not get hurt for the sake of him. 

“He has quickly become my favourite.” The Tsar grumbles, holding Poe to him, “I will enjoy taking-”

“He is mine.” You snarl, taking a step forward. Oh, this was risky, far too risky, but you don’t know how else to play this. 

The Tsar raises an eyebrow, amused “Yours?” 

“Mine.” You swallow, you might as well go the whole distance now. “My mate. Mine.” 

Poe gives you a confused look as the Tsar freezes, his fingers digging into Poe’s side. This was a faux in Terlion culture, this had implications for the Tsar. 

“Your mate.” He repeats and you nod. 

“My mate.”

“You did not say this before, why?” There’s anger in his voice. 

“I did not want to cause embarrassment over a mistake, however, you touching him and flaunting,” you shake your head, injecting as much rage into your voice as you can to cover the panic. “I cannot stand for it.” 

The Tsar’s grip loosens on Poe, but there is fury burning in his gaze. “Humanoids… lie.”

“I am not lying about this-”

“I have no way of knowing if you are other than your word. Which is worth little.” 

You clench your jaw to stop it shaking. 

“If he is… yours. Then he would pass the test of Seva. He would resist the touch of anyone but you.”

You swallow. Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck. You’d heard of Seva, a plant extract that caused extreme arousal that was banned in half of the galaxy and highly regulated in the other. It had been used in the past to prove the loyalty of royalty’s romantic partners. If someone took it and were truly devoted to their spouse then they would only accept the affections of that person while under the influence. But if they weren’t… well, anyone’s touch would do.

You and Poe weren’t together. This was going to end very, very badly. 

“I am insulted that-” You try to argue, but the Tsar cuts you off. 

“The test will be taken, and if he goes to you then you may take him from here without payment,” he pauses, “as I will deal with the traders myself, however if he doesn’t crave only your touch, I will keep him and wear your skin as a trophy and nail your tongue to the wall as a warning to other humanoid liars.” 

Somehow you keep his gaze. “Very well.” 

You were going to be sick. There had to be something, some way out of this. You rack your mind, searching for anything, anything.

A servant brings an ornate pot to the Tsar, bowing as they take off the lid and use a golden spoon to measure a serving of the fine seeds. 

The Tsar undoes one of the chains at the back of Poe’s head, finally allowing him to open his mouth. He looks at you, about to say your name. 

“It’s alright.” Your voice is soft, even. Somehow sure of itself even if nothing else about you is. 

He keeps his shining eyes fixed on you as he opens his mouth and swallows the seeds when offered. 

The servant steps back, retreating and the Tsar smiles. 

“It will only take a few moments, Seva is strong on humanoids.” He muses, “If he is not yours as you say, I will claim him now to relieve him of its effects.” 

Poe shivers, blinking hard. Heat starts to run along his skin, first like a gentle breeze, a caress that is not unwanted. 

The Tsar strokes his back amused as Poe shakes his head, trying to clear his quickly clouding vision. 

The touch is… nice. Soothing almost. Poe leans back into it, sighing. He needed to do something, there was something he was trying to remember… but his thoughts just wouldn’t hold. Would slip out of his grasp the second he tries to focus. 

A weight settles in his stomach, his muscles clenching. He wanted…

The Tsar laughs as Poe sighs, pushing back as he runs the tips of his fingers along his skin. Triumph in his eyes. He takes Poe’s chin and turns him towards himself.

Poe goes with the touch, lightheaded and… he freezes, pain spikes into his chest. There’s a pause, a look of horror on his face before he practically throws himself off the Tsar, and scrambles back. He shakes his head rapidly, his eyes wild and glazed. 

The Tsar frowned, about to speak. 

“Poe!” You rush forward, panic gripping your chest. “Are you a-”

The second he sees you, relief rushes into his mind, presses solidly into his bones. He grabs hold of you, his skin hot and sweaty, “Baby, baby, baby,” he slurs, practically sobbing as you help him to his feet. Which is easier said than done.

He presses his body against you, whining the second there is a fraction of space. 

“Poe, it’s okay,” You soothe, trying to keep him upright. 

He buries his face into your neck, shivering and breathing hard. “It hurts.” He whimpers and you hold him tighter. 

The Tsar drops to his knees, “A great insult has been cast to you by myself.” The guards all fall to their knees as well.

“I-” Your own gasp cuts you off as Poe kisses your neck, lightly sucking on your skin as he grinds his very obvious erection against your leg.

“I will sort this disservice with the traders, please, I offer any future trades to go directly through me and my house to ensure its standards.”  

“Thank you,” you manage to get out, as you grip Poe’s wrists to stop him from undressing you then and there. “There is no ill will, please let me leave you with Keseun as a sign of my appreciation.” 

The Tsar nods deeply, “I will accept, and will repay you for your generosity in the future.” 

Poe wriggles one hand free, pushing his fingers under your shirt.

“I, thank you,” you bow your head, “I need to be getting back to my ship and-”

Poe kisses your cheek, nipping lightly at your jaw as he tries to press his lips to yours. 

“Please,” The Tsar gestures to the side, “Let me show you our hospitality, at least while the effects are still strong in your mate.” 

You want to refuse, you want to get the hell out of there. But there’s no way you can get Poe to your ship like this. 

You nod and are quickly guided to a lavishly decorated room. You barely get the chance to thank the servant before Poe’s tongue is in your mouth. 

It’s dizzying, desperate the way he moves against you, how his hands slide and tug at your clothing. He pushes you back, up against the door.

“Poe– Poe,” You manage to pull yourself away, to resist getting caught up in his warmth. You have no idea how this worked out, maybe Poe had gotten himself together for long enough to throw himself away from the Tsar and to you? 

“You okay?” You hold his cheeks, stroking his feverish skin. 

“Need you,” he moans, his eyes soft and dilated. 

“I’m so sorry.” You mutter. God, you had to find something, do something, knock him out for a few hours until his body worked this out of its system. 

“Why? Why? You saved me.” He bites his lip, rubbing his hips against yours. 

“Hey, hey, let’s see if we can-”

“I love you, you know that?” 

You freeze, your mind blanking out for a second.

“Ever since Heiran. Ever since then, I knew it, I love you.”

“Poe, you’re not thinking straight, the, the S-”

“I should have kissed you on Heiran,” he closes his eyes, pressing his face into your hands and sighing. His skin is burning, desperate for the relief of your touch. “I should have kissed you after, I was scared. Scared you’d reject me…” His eyes are shining when they open, “But you can, you can say no. I won’t…”

He lets out the sweetest sob when you lightly kiss him, moaning into your mouth as you wrap your arms around him and pull him close.  

“I should have kissed you on Heiran,” you whisper, “I wanted to.”

He groans, rocking lightly against your legs to take the edge off the deep ache in his stomach. “I…” He bites his lip, it hurts. The weight is so much, too much. All consuming now that he knows you want him to. 

“Here, it’s okay,” you turn him around so that his back is flush with your chest. “I’ll take care of you, don’t worry.” You kiss his temple, his skin feverish and sweaty as you slide your hand under the fabric around his waist.

He moans, grabbing hold of you desperately as your fingers touch his velvety length. 

“It’s okay.” You soothe as you start to stroke him in earnest. “You’re safe with me.”

Thank you for reading!

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One of the most exciting things about The Resistance using this moon as a new base was the preexisting structures that included personal rooms. Even though they were small, and you didn’t really mind sharing with others, it was nice to have your own space. Was nice. 

Emphasis on the was. 

Poe had basically collapsed in your room, far too out of it to make it back to his own after the celebration night at the cantina. You had kindly given up half of your tiny bed, the act of altruism aided by your soft spot for the pilot. (More than a soft spot if you were being honest.) 

But that was hours ago, when you were more awake and the unspoken deal had been for half of your space. Not the current 95% Poe was laying all over. 

You shove him again, wriggling quickly to take up the free area you managed to push him out of so you could lay comfortably. 

Poe let’s out a soft moan of confusion, but doesn’t open his eyes. 

You settle, satisfied with your well earned extra room. But it’s less than a minute before he’s shifting closer again, trying to encroach on your side. 

That’s it. 

“Poe.” You say harshly, pushing back on him. 

You expect him to wake up groggily, or at least turn over onto his other side facing away from you. 

Instead he mumbles something intelligible and flops his arm over your stomach and snuggles close. He presses his face to your neck, his soft breath hitting your skin. 

Heat rises to your face. This definitely wasn’t what you’d intended. 

“Poe.” You whisper, your previous annoyance burned up with embarrassment. You try to push on his arm, move it back over. But your movements only cause him to grumble and hold you tighter, curling his body into yours. 

You breathe in deeply. At least you had some space, right?

Eventually you drift off to sleep again. And even though you didn’t want to admit it, there was something comforting about Poe’s warmth and tight hug. 

But of course his close proximity made you dream of him. 

It was hazy, and not quite tangible. Part of you was vaguely aware that you were dreaming, the edges were too soft, too liquid and not quite in focus.

Except it felt real. 

There was an ache between your legs that was being teased by a constant pressure. You squirmed against it, trying to find some semblance of relief. 

A faint sigh pulled you further from sleep. A quiet muffled whisper of your name murmured into your neck sent a sharp thrill of sensation down your spine.

“Poe?” Your voice was heavy, saturated with sleep as you shifted slightly, moving and- oh.

He moans softly against your skin as your hip brushes against his hard cock, his fingers digging into your ribs as he holds you close, silently begging you to repeat the motion. 

“‘m sorry,” he mumbled, obviously just fully waking himself. “I didn’t, I didn’t mean to,” this time he shifts slightly, raising his legs and you gasp, unable to stop the sound from spilling out of your mouth. His thigh rubs against your centre, pressing your soaked through pyjama bottoms against you.

You grip hold of his shoulder, your other hand fisting the curls at the nape of his neck as you pull him against you, needing him closer. 

His breath hitches. “Is that good?” He murmured, pressing his thigh against you again and rocking it back and forward slightly.

You bite your lip and nod desperately, your eyes screwed shut. 

He watches you, enraptured for a second, before he slowly leans back to your neck and places a light kiss against your skin. 

You whine at the caress, rubbing your aching clit back and forth against the strong muscle of his thigh. 

Poe briefly mistakes the small sound as distress, all his senses on high alert. “I can stop, I’m sorry, I don’t-”

“Please don’t stop,” you beg, your voice breaking, sounding needy and pathetic and so, so wrecked. “Feels good, please, Poe, please, I-” you moan loudly, giving up any pretence of trying to hide your feelings as he latches back onto your neck, sucking hard, and grabs hold of your hips, fucking you against his leg. 

“Poe,” you whine, dragging out his name. Not sure for a moment if this is real or if you’re still dreaming. 

“Fuck baby, yes,” he growls, biting at your skin before licking a stripe up your neck. “Keep moaning my name like that, keep doing it.” 

He kissed you sloppily, biting at your bottom lip and slipping his tongue into your mouth, as he moved. Before climbing on top of you and hooking his hands under your knees so that he could move your legs apart and settle between him. 

He moaned as he pressed his cock against your clothed heat, echoing your cry of pleasure. 

“Poe,” you whimpered between kisses, so desperate for every touch and caress. 

“Wanted you for so long,” he kissed you hard, trailing his lips down your jaw and neck while he ran his hands over your breasts and waist. “Always imagined what you’d sound like, feel like, taste like.”

He kisses down your chest, biting softly at your breast through the material of your top and moaning when you gasp and buck up against him. 

“Always want you to make that noise,” he groans as he keeps trailing his lips downwards, dragging his fingertips lower until he can slip them under the waistband of your trousers. 

You yelp in surprise as he pulls them off in one fluid motion, partially lifting you off the mattress in the process. The cool night air hits your feverish skin, but you barely have a moment to shiver before he’s pulling your legs back open. His fingers digging into your thighs and leaving bruises in his hast, not that you care. 

When his tongue touches your clit it feels like heaven. You gasp and moan loudly, crying out his name as he sucks. His own groan of pleasure vibrating through you.

He presses his left forearm against the inside of your thigh, spreading his hand out across your stomach and pinning you down as he devours you. 

Instinctively you grind up against him as your claw at the bedsheets. He sucks at your nub, alternating between kitten licks and rolling circles, driving you completely mad as he purposefully ignores your aching centre.  Poe growls low in his throat happily as you moan and writhe under him. 

“Poe, please!” You never imagined it would be like this, never dared to hope that he would want to touch you like this, and now he had pushed all rational thinking completely out of your mind, filled you utterly to the brim with only thoughts of him. 

He moans again, bucking against the mattress to give himself some slight relief. “You’re so wet,” he runs his nose through your folds, following it with broad licks of his tongue. He teases your entrance, just slipping inside for a smallest moment, and chuckling when you whine and try to thrust up against him. 

“How long have you been this wet, hmm?” He nips at your thigh, bringing his right hand up to trace the outline of your pussy while he keeps you pressed against the bed with his left.

“You been walking around the base just desperate for me? Just needing me to take care of you?” 

“Yes,” you sobbed, your skin burning with embarrassment as you admitted it. 

“Oh, fuck,” he whimpers, the dark seductive tone faltering at your confession. He buried his face into your thigh, sucking a love bite into your skin. 

Poe presses two fingers into you easily, slowly sliding them in and out and moaning as he feels your walls contract around him. 

Your back arches, toes curling as he gently readjusts the angle, searching for the spot to make you see stars. 

“Poe,” you breathe, so overcome with the sensation of his thick fingers. 

He reaches up with his left hand and grabs yours, squeezing tightly. “That’s it baby, that’s it, fuck,” he bites his lip, watching your face intently. 

The ache in his dick is maddening, all consuming, he’s so hard he’s sure he could cum just from watching you. 

“Always need you,” he mutters, unable to stop himself as he continues to fuck you deep with his fingers. “Always so desperate for you, just want you all the time, I-” He stops himself, stumbling over the words he wants to say, that every fibre of his being demands he says.

He can’t speak those words, can’t admit them when every day is just another chance for the universe to tear you apart. 

“Poe,” you grab hold of him, pulling his lips to yours and kissing him deeply before you yank off your top and tug at his trousers. “I need you too.” 

He groans and kisses you back, almost completely swallowing your words. But thankfully he gets the message and helps you to tug down his trousers to his knees before he leans forward and thrusts into you. 

You both cry out, moaning loud enough to wake the whole base, still just for a moment to truly feel each other before Poe starts to move. 

He rocks his hips against you, thrusting in and out with long lazy strokes as he bites his lip hard enough to bleed. His features pinched together in deep concentration as he tries so hard not to cum. 

“I’m not gonna… I’m not gonna last long,” he moans as you clench around him, at how tightly you grip him and how your muscles tense as you arch up to meet his every movement. 

“Me neither.” You pant, every nerve feels like it’s on fire, ignited by every touch. 

He presses his forefinger against your clit, rubbing soft circles around the nerve and gasping when you twitch and clamp down on him. 

“Poe,” you barely get the word out, pleasure twisting in your stomach and chest and drowning your lungs. 

The slow rock is driving you insane, a gentle push and pull, give and take. It would be so much easier, so much simpler if it was hard and fast and meaningless and wasn’t… wasn’t…

“Baby,” he gasps, so close and needing more, needing you to overwhelm him, to-

You cry out as you cum, throwing your head back and squeezing him hard. He sobs as he follows, thrusting once more and stays deep as he cums inside. 

The sound of both of your breathing fills the room as your heartbeats return to normal.

There’s the smallest fraction of a second where insecurity raises its ugly head, starts to whisper in your ear. 

But it’s almost as if Poe can hear it too. He pushes himself up to look into your eyes before kissing you softly and holding you tight. 

You chuckle as he nuzzles your cheek. 

“I’ve still got my shirt on.” He mutters and you laugh. 

He grins and snuggles into your neck for a moment before he fumbles with the blanket, mostly managing to pull it over you both. “I’ll clean us up in a second, I just wanna…” He yawns and you smile. 

“Me too.” You kiss his cheek and hug him close. He sighs happily and holds you tight.

____________________________________

Thank you for reading!

@pleasurebuttonwrites @raven-rk @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @cocodiem @oscarisaacsspit @whatthefishh  @mbakubabe @romanarose @pimosworld @jake-g-lockley @thefamilybloodstone

Nevertheless, James was glad for the sudden change. At least he didn’t have to sit in this classroom for an hour with his nose occasionally tucked under his shirt, trying not to be suffocated by the scent that lingered in the air.

With a smile, he strutted over to his usual seat, barely paying a sneering Snape any attention as his eyes zeroed in on you—a twinkle of mischief sparkling beneath his glasses. He didn’t even notice his three best friends who were conversing amongst themselves.

“Fancy seeing you here, love,” he greeted as he smoothly sat on the stool with the grace of a toddler who landed on his arse, purposely brushing his elbow against yours—just to feel the tiniest bit of contact with you. “You’re looking smashing today. Is that a new hairstyle?” he added, a smile still annoyingly intact.

You rolled your at James, a habit that you have now been accustomed to ever since he decided to torment your every shared potions class. You were astonished you haven’t gotten yourself blind considering that it had been exactly six months since he started pestering you. Six months of always rolling your eyes at him. It had always been like this since the beginning of seventh year—with James sitting beside you ever since the start of term. It was surprising to everyone, most especially to you, since the Gryffindor had always made it his mission to sit with Lily Evans, a Gryffindor girl who had been unfortunate enough to have caught the bespectacled boy’s attention.

But that was years ago—back when James didn’t realize that other girls besides Evans existed.

“It’s my everyday hair, Potter. Did you smack your head on the way to the potions lab? Your head seems to have grown thicker than usual,” you mumbled, tone a bit harsh, though it did nothing but widen James’ stupid smile.

He didn’t even hear the rest of your words, or maybe he did—but as usual, he let them slip from one ear and out the other, instead focusing on the way your lashes fluttered softly as you sent him a glare, nose flaring slightly in annoyance. You’re pretty, he thought to himself silently before forcefully and painfully pulling his eyes off you just as Slughorn arrived with the sound of the wooden door banging.

“Good afternoon, class!” greeted Slughorn as he paced towards the table positioned in front of the classroom—a bubbling cauldron sat just above it. He pointed at it—eyes flitting towards the sea of students. “I’d like to ask if anyone in this class has the slightest idea of what this potion might be.”

Someone raised their hand in the air—and the smile that James had donned on his face dropped as soon as he realized that it was none other than Severus Snape.

“It’s Amortentia, professor,” the Slytherin answered, prompting a frown to morph on James’ face.

He looked at his friends, mouthing a discernible ‘kiss ass’ that made Sirius and Peter chortle, whilst Remus silently shook his head with a small smile.

“Very well, and I suppose, Mr. Snape, that you know how this potion works?” Slughorn grinned—eyes twinkling blindly as if Snape had just handed him a bar of gold.

“It is a love potion; known as a powerful one.” James’ brows furrowed at Snape’s words as looked back at the front of the classroom, mouth parting in concentration as he let each syllable sink into his mind. For the first time in his entire life, James found himself listening to Snape with a look of interest—no visible signs of a frown on his face. It was as if another person was talking in front.

“The smell that this potion produces is different for each person, depending on what or who they are most attracted to. The potion is also considered dangerous as it could cause someone to become obsessive if it is drunk.”

James’ eyes almost bulged out of their sockets—a flush flooding over his senses as soon as he realized that what he might have smelled upon entering earlier could be none other than your signature scent. He blinked, once, twice—willing himself to calm down as a thought rushed through his head.

Turning his gaze at you—James let a smile grace his lips, an idea already simmering in the corner of his mind.

He didn’t even hear the rest of what was exchanged between the potions master and his nemesis—already imagining various things between you and him; ones that he would not dare to voice out lest you give him the hex of the century.

“Now—who’d like to take a whiff of this concoction?”

James’ hand shot up faster than you could say Quidditch, an excited smile stretching across his face. A cacophony of giggles flitted across the classroom—something that only fueled James’ determination to be the first one to try the potion. He could feel the heat of your eyes from the side of his face—feeling as if you were looking through a magnifying glass to sift through every nook and cranny of his mind.

He couldn’t blame you for staring, not when it was his first time volunteering in Slughorn’s class.

The professor seemed pleased at James’ insistence as he nodded, the older man’s lips widening into a smile. “Well, if you insist, Mr. Potter.”

A victorious grin bloomed on his face; looking as if he had just accomplished an almost impossible feat and was rewarded an Order of Merlin. With a small glance in your direction, he winked, leaving you all hot and slightly embarrassed as he strutted over to the front of the class as if he owned the very damn classroom.

Silence fell over the entire potions lab the moment James reached the table. Though it wasn’t entirely silent, as a couple of whispers and giggles bubbling from every corner of the room could be heard.

He could feel his heartbeat triple inside his chest from excitement—a sharp sound ringing in his ear as if someone had let a Bludger loose inside the room and smacked him square in the head. Tentatively leaning over the cauldron, the familiar scent of your clothes and hair travelled through his nostrils, leaving a warm and fuzzy feeling to wash over his entire being.

Godric, he could stay here—with his head halfway dunked into the potion and not even Slughorn could pull him out of it. Was this what Snape was talking about?

Lips curling into a smile, James dared himself to look at you, eyes holding something that made your stomach twist—sly and mischievous.

An idea popped into his head; one that made his smile even more wide. Painfully wide. With a dramatic gasp and widened eyes—James clutched his chest as if he were some maiden protagonist in one of Remus’ favourite novels. Looking as though he was about to faint any second.

“Professor,” he called, voice coming out breathless, “the potion smells like her!” he exclaimed, lips slowly morphing into a grin, index finger pointing directly at you.

There was silence. Thick and loud silence that James swore he could hear a pin drop on the stone floors. Half of the class seemed to have been frozen in their seats—eyes just as comically wide as James’, whilst the rest were smiling, clearly amused at his theatrics. Remus looked as though he might shrink at any moment, whilst Sirius and Peter appeared to be thrilled at James’ words, their shoulders shaking as they tried to contain their laughters.

You looked at him, body turning rigid as a statue. James could make out the way your nose flared even from a distance, lips twitching in embarrassment at the fact that everyone’s attention has been poured on you.

Even Slughorn seemed to be at a loss for words, not really expecting someone to be so frank. But there’s nothing really surprising when it comes to Gryffindors as they wear their heart on their sleeve like a badge of honour—especially when the Gryffindor in question was none other than James Potter.

It was a bold statement, that much he knew.

“What? Do I need to say more? It’s like what Sniv—I mean Snape said. It smells different to everyone based on what they find attractive.” He shrugged his shoulders, walking back towards your shared table as if he hadn’t just flipped your entire world in front of the class.

Oh you were sure your stool had vanished under your arse, feeling as if you were defying the fucking gravity. You could still feel everyone’s eyes on you. Burning and drilling through you.

When James neared, he stopped just a few meters from your table, wearing a stupid smile that looked as if the sunlight was slipping past his lips. He leaned in, the scent of the entire room clinging to his robes. “So now that I’ve made my feelings clear, how about a date this Saturday?”

#1 she ignored my letter!

➥ In which, James writes you a love letter and hides it into your luggage carrying your clothes, not knowing he put it in a pocket you never open.

#2 she can date whoever she wants to, i don't care.

➥ In which, James and you still aren't on talking terms, he avoids you, never gets too close to you, yet complains to everyone when he sees you get close to your new charms partner.

#3 this is awkward..

➥ In which, you were fed up with James, deciding to put aside your pettiness you drag him away from the gryffindor party to talk to him.

#4 what letter? sirius, what letter?

➥ In which, you never planned on talking to james ever again, not after your last encounter with him. Luckily Sirius saves the day.

“no, no, no, your secret santa asked me to ask you.” you lie. “they also asked if you wear a size medium or large.”

“don’t worry, i can’t make it to movie night,” he says casually. your lips immediately drop into a frown. it was the annual tradition in the house—a night where all five roommates came together to watch a terrible holiday movie and exchange department store gifts. he couldn’t miss it. “i’ve got a mandatory frat event,” he adds with a shrug. “apparently, it’s not optional this time. i’m surprised your boyfriend didn’t tell you about it.”

you feel yourself dull at the mention of him. “we’re on a break.”

luigi raises an eyebrow. “a break, huh? didn’t see that one coming.” his tone is neutral, but there’s a flicker of something underneath. “what made it happen?”

you shrug, avoiding the conversation.

luigi’s expression softens, his gaze shifting to something a little more concerned. he takes a small step closer, his voice quieter now. “you okay?”

“yeah,” you weren’t, and it was overtly obvious. luigi stands over you, his tall frame leaning closer, his warmth wrapping around you like a quiet embrace. “i thought i heard you say you were done with all that fraternity nonsense,” you say, remembering the times he complained to your roommates about the tumultuous nights and endless responsibilities waiting for him at the phi kappa psi house. it’s strange to picture your boyfriend in that world now.

“you’re nosy,” he says.

“you specifically told my boyfriend it was a huge waste of money.”

“ex-boyfriend.”

“we’re on a break!” you emphasize, eyes narrowing. “plus, it sounds like you’re just trying to get out of secret santa.”

luigi leans in slightly, his voice lowering, teasing. “and it sounds like you’re getting me a gift card.”

you can’t help but laugh, the tension between you both shifting into something lighter, something that felt just a little too comfortable. “alright fine,” you say, accepting defeat. “secret’s out. what is it you want?”

he pauses, studying you for a moment, the faintest smirk curling at his lips. “what do i want?” he murmurs, his voice low, as if weighing the question. hesteps a bit closer, just enough to make the space between you feel charged. “i don’t know, what are you willing to give me?”

you flush under his gaze, unsure of what to make of this moment. you have a boyfriend—yet you’re ninety percent sure luigi is flirting with you, and about a hundred percent sure you’re liking it.

the warmth in your chest is both unsettling and familiar, a confusing mix of guilt and something else you can’t quite place. you try to shake it off, but the way he looks at you lingers in your thoughts, pulling at you in ways you didn’t expect.

he seems entertained by your befuddlement, his eyes lingering on yours in a way that makes you second-guess yourself. he looks away, breaking the moment with a soft chuckle, then turns to leave.

“i’ll see you,” he says, but it’s not casual. it’s something else, something that makes you wonder if he’s looking forward to seeing you again as much as you are him.

you bring yourself back to reality, forcing your mind to settle. you can’t flirt with him. it would upset the house dynamic, intrude on your peaceful living space—you cannot let that happen. you shouldn’t. you were on a break from your boyfriend, a small pause in something that still felt important. and soon enough, you’d be back together, just like you always were.

as much as his presence lingers in your thoughts, you remind yourself of the needed boundaries, the reasons why things can’t get blurred.

still, as you continue baking cookies, dodging glitter explosions, and downing soju bottles, his absence nags at you, a quiet reminder that you’re trying not to want something that might never be.

“you’re still awake.” luigi’s voice cuts through the quiet kitchen, startling you so much that you nearly drop the piece of ribbon you’re holding. you whirl around, clutching your chest, only to find him much closer than you’d expected—close enough that you have to tilt your head up to meet his gaze.

“sorry, didn’t mean to scare you.” he says as you try to shake off the way your pulse seems to have kicked off into overdrive. “you’re not tired?”

“not yet.” you shake your head. “the party didn’t exhaust you?”

“it did.” he says, exhaling. “figured i’d check if i’m eating american or chinese tomorrow before i hit the hay.”

you pretend like you’re offended. “i’d never get you something so thoughtless.”

you grab a gray glittery gift bag and toss it his way. his teasing falters for a second, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. “a tie?”

“yeah, you’re always dressed fancy, going fancy places…” you say, brushing the glitter off your hands, suddenly feeling self-conscious. was it the wrong choice? did fancypants mcgee only wear silk imported from asia? “you don’t like it?”

“no,” he says quickly, the corners of his mouth lifting into a faint smile. “it’s sweet.”

you glance at him, unsure what to say, and his smirk softens into something else, something warmer. he steps closer, the space between you narrowing just enough to make your breath catch.

“guess i’ll have to step up my game,” he says, his voice low, almost thoughtful. “didn’t realize you were paying attention.”

you blink, caught off guard, scrambling to come up with something, but before you can, he leans back, breaking the tension with a chuckle. “looks like you could use some help.”

“you don’t have to.”

“i want to,” he replies, tossing the ribbon into the trash before grabbing the broom from the corner. “besides, i can’t have you using this tie to guilt-trip me later.”

“it’s weird having you be so nice to me,” you blurt out the words before you can realize the reprussions. his dark brown eyes glance up at you, eyebrows pinched together.

the regret is immediate. “i just mean we’ve never really talked before.”

luigi looks at you, his expression shifting slightly. “was that my choice or yours?”

you blink, caught off guard. you’d always assumed it was mutual. “well, that’s not really the point,” you say, trying to brush it off. “we’re friends now, right?”

his dark eyes shift away from yours for a moment, but only to return with even more intensity, holding you in place, freezing you in the moment. your heart stutters in your chest. “i was never interested in being your friend.”

“oh.” the word feels hollow as it leaves your mouth, and you instantly feel your face go pale. you scramble for something to say, anything to make the moment feel less heavy, but the silence hangs between you, thick and unrelenting.

“that’s not what i meant—“

“it’s fine of course, you don’t have to—”

“no.”

he shakes his head and runs up to you, closing the moment of confusion with an abrupt force—his mouth is on yours, tongue slipping past your lips and sliding into you.

whether it was the warmth of the kiss, his big hands groping your body, or the fact that this was just all so irredeemably wrong—you didn’t know—but the rush you got from being with him left you dizzy and dazed and desperate.

luigi laughs into your kiss. “you’re so fuckin’ eager.”

you should be reasonable. you shouldn’t be doing this, this is a mistake. “sorry, i—”

“no, don’t be sorry,” he says, smiling into another sloppy kiss. it felt so tender, so loving, when he takes you into your arms. reason flies out the window. “i want you, too.”

“luigi,” you whimper into his lips, not recognizing the desperation in your voice.

“i’ll give it to you baby, don’t worry,” he hums.

your fingers rush to unbutton your top, half-way done before luigi realizes what you’re doing and he grabs you. “keep your clothes on. i don’t need you naked to make you cum.”

he’s so strong and forward and unlike anything you’ve ever had before. in one swift motion, he turns you over, pressed against the kitchen counter as he slides his warm hand down your silk shorts and cradles your tit with the other.

“you put these on for me, didn’t you?” he tugs your lace panties, pressing them against your hot cunt. your back arches at the sensation and you feel his cock hard underneath his jeans.

“luigi.” you whimper, barely breathing.

“admit it,” he says, in between licking and kissing and biting the nape of your neck, sure to leave marks. “you wore these for me, didn’t you? wanted me to take your mind off that fuckin’ asshole, hm? wanted me to take care of you?”

you swell underneath him, shaking. he grinds his straining cock against your plump ass as he works your pussy, groaning into your neck.

“oh, baby, is that too much for you already?” luigi’s breath is hot against your neck, hands busy rubbing your clit and pinching your delicate nipple.

you felt like you couldn’t breathe. the expression on luigi’s face is smug. “you haven’t even had my cock yet, look at you.”

he brings his wet fingers up to your lips, then shoves them into your mouth without permission. you can’t help but shudder underneath his wicked touch. “yeah.” he laughs. “squirm like that, slut.”

“lu,” you pant. “i want it.”

“no, not yet,” he says, rubbing his hard big cock against your clothed ass. “see how hard i am for you? see how worked up you got me?”

“yes,” you whimper, fingers still in your mouth.

“get on your knees,” luigi grunts. “show me how much you need it.”

you needed it more than anything. dropping down to your knees, you notice a spot on his jeans wet with precum. he’s straining for you. you try to get as much of your mouth on him as you can as soon as his bottoms are off, desperate to show him how good you are.

“you’re so pretty like this,” luigi murmurs as you try to fill your mouth with his entirety. seeing that you’re struggling, he puts his hand on the back of your head and guides you down onto it. “such a good girl.”

he rocks hip forward deep into your warmth, using your face. “choke on it.” he orders. and you do. your eyes tear up at the feeling of his length touching the back of your throat. “god, you’re so fuckin’ filthy.”

before you can breathe, luigi pulls himself out of your mouth and barks out another order, “put your hands up against the wall.”

you do as you’re told. your core aches like it misses his touch. pulling your shorts down, he groans at the sight of your wetness, driving his big cock inside of you.

“slipped in so easy with your spit all over me,” he whispers in your ear. god, he’s driving you fucking crazy. the pleasure is almost overwhelming as he leans down, forces your chin back to bring your lips together, a sloppy, loving kiss.

“i knew you were gonna be like this,” he purrs into you, sucking and biting.

“like what?”

“like a fuckin’ slut.” luigi grumbles. he grabs something off the counter, and you don’t know what’s happening until you feel the silk material fasten around your wrists. the tie.

“luigi.” you gasp.

“i’ve been waiting to get my fuckin’ hands on you.”

you shiver at the confession. “really?”

he groans as he watches your ass ripple against his hips—at how easy and soft and weak you were at his mercy. he melts at the sight of you, using your binded wrists to buck deeper into you. you moan and whimper and scream on the force—he’s so harsh, so mean, so good—you’ve never even dreamt of a pleasure like this.

“listen to you.” he buries himself so deep inside you that you could feel his balls pressed against your ass. “you’re fuckin’ loud when you’re getting treated right, aren’t you?”

“please, daddy,” you whine, completely out of your mind.

luigi groans, pushing your head into the kitchen counter. “god, i didn’t think you were gonna call me that,” he rumbles, rocking his cock hard into your frothing core, rubbing against your clit and sending sparks of pleasure swirling through your body.

he pulls your hair back again, causing you to shriek. “didn’t call him that, did you?” he says it like a statement, leaving no room for correction. “god, i used to jerk myself off listening to you moan. wondering if you were riding him or bent over your fuckin’ mattress.“

“luigi.” you cry.

“always knew i could treat you better,” he growls. “always wanted to bend you over in front of everyone and make you beg for it.”

“i would’ve let you,” you mewl out, helpless.

“yeah?”

“you’re s’good.”

his thrusts come faster, more frantic. “better than him?”

“yes!”

you’re so close and so needy. your mind glows white as he fucks into you. squirming underneath him, the friction of your frantic movements growing hotter as the both of you chase your high. “good girl,” he praises, kissing all over your neck and back. “cream all over daddy’s cock, baby.”

“luigi,” you moan as your orgasm gushes beneath him, shivering as you feel his cock quiver, his load shooting deep into your cunt. he grunts with his final thrust, whimpering your name.

he kisses your shoulder as he pulls out of you. “so good,” he pants, just as helpless and shaken as you were. he unties the present you’d given him and pulls you in for another kiss.

“luigi,” you sigh against his lips.

“pretty girl,” he whispers back, running his hot wet kisses across your lips, your cheeks, your neck. “let me take you out tomorrow, yeah? a proper date. i’ll wear my tie ‘nd everything.”

you laugh—a mix of disbelief and something else—something lighter. before you can say anything, he’s leaning in again, kissing you softly, like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“it was a good gift, right?” you hum.

“yeah,” he agrees, the corner of his lips curling into a smirk. “versatile.”