#fo!poe

-- Fics --

Which Oscar Isaac characters like small breasts - Headcanons -

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Heated return

Poe Dameron x fem!reader

Summary: Poe comes back from a long and intense mission. He already had pent up energy but seeing you again (sleeping) makes him wanna lose steam.

Cw/triggers: Somnophilia, smut, humping, sloppy kissing, p in v, nsfw

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Double Deal

Marc Spector/Steven Grant x fem!reader

Cw/triggers: Takes place at the part where they were in the middle of the desert at night, soft dom!Steven, dom!Marc, smut, NSFW, p in v, possessive!Marc and Steven, couldn't help myself with making it a liiittle biiiit dark :)

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Service of affection

Joshua Martin x fem!reader

After every fight with Lindsay, Josh seeks out you for much needed company

Cw/triggers: Dub-con, abuse of power, implied use of alcohol and drugs, NSFW, p in v, gaslighting

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Privilege of power

Marc Spector x fem!reader

Cw/triggers: HUGE power imbalance, he's got so much stamina, smut, nsfw, p in v, oral (fem receiving), cum eating, Marc is a teasing dick (affectionate^^)

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-- WIPs --

Untitled First Order!Poe Dameron x (plus sized) reader

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Precious Cargo

First Order!Poe Dameron x fem!reader

That's the FO!Poe fic idea @hopecomesbacktolife gave me besides one for Marc and Santi in which the character (Poe) was hired to get reader but ends up keeping them for himself (and offing the client)

Cw/triggers: Captivity, cunning Poe, implied murder.

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The one that got away

Serial Killer!Marc Spector x fem!reader

Cw/triggers: Stalking, obsessive themes, murder (duh), NSFW, vaginal fingering, gaslighting, twisted mind games, somewhat pred/prey dynamic, attempted assault (not Marc)

Plot: It all started with a spilled drink.

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Note: Haven't used Ps for doing banners in aaaages and it was kind of collecting dust, maybe I'll use it more whenever I got more time lol

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Anxiety had been a constant companion lately. After all joining the legendary Commander Poe Dameron's squadron was the ultimate reward you could hope after the First Order's victory. Your missions would revolve around the solar system's safety by securing the different commercial routes. You would get deployed anywhere Poe Dameron demanded and you and the other pilots would follow him without a question and without a doubt. If you all had to spend a night in some shady cantina in an area controlled by the First Order you would go there. If your destination was some dark forest you would go there. If it needed you to fly above some megalopolis for several hours in a row you would do it. The thing was, you felt as if you did not deserve such an honor. Your young age attracted many comments amongst the soldiers both negatively and positively. Some would say you were there just as a propaganda tool to widen the recruits range, or because you had sex with an officer to get promoted, or maybe you had some influential father. Others would think too highly of you because they were convinced you must be some potential future ace that would replace Poe Dameron one day and that after all you must be one already to join him so quickly.

Just like now you felt like a fraud just for flying side by side with him during this routine patrol. The mere action of watching your radars and listening to basic comms of your squadron members messing with each other in a friendly was enough to make you feel abnormally lonely. Poe sounded especially tolerating with their antics and seemed to be in a great mood, specifically what you would love to join in a more normal day. Some thought he had a soft spot for you as you were the youngest of them all and maybe they weren't that wrong about it.

"Come on the rabid one, you can do better, over," the Commander said with an audible smile.

Poe certainly liked to taunt you and sharpen your skills but you still felt how rigid he could be unexplainably during missions. If at first you assimilated it to mysoginistic disdain from an older male pilot towards a young and impulsive female pilot you started to think of it more as a need of not repeating some past mistakes. He loved to repeat how reckless he used to be, how impressive his stunts were against X-Wings, how many times he almost died. The only thing that would kill you in this post-war era was your ability to cause your own stress gnawing you from the inside. So for once you didn't reply to his sentence. As Poe wasn't insisting you listened to another pilot without actually listening. Your brain moved to its auto mode and managed to filter successfully what was an order and what was stupid.

Even after landing on the temporary base consisting of a spot near a river you felt haunted by this imposter syndrome, lightheaded as if you didn't belong to that friendly atmosphere surrounding you. You chose to isolate yourself by acting more useful and sat at the entrance of your tent. Not that your eyelids heavy with slumber would be really effective with those millions of raindrops pouncing onto the trees and ground but you still wanted to feel fully as part of your crew. And yet you managed to miss the silhouette sprinting in your direction, Poe's weight heavier due to the water soaking his clothes and dark mop of hair. Fortunately you for the time to roll to the side to avoid him, and witnessed him falling onto the tent floor as a loud laugh escaped his lips.

"Well I guess you wanted to get rid off us all now, good job but you could do better. Not ready to drown today."

Maybe it was Poe's own tiredness he tried to hide with that smug grin but he did look older than on the propaganda flyers dating back from the war. Of course he was older, not only with his features but also some patches in his hair getting clearer or this beard he seemed to groom with much care. Despite his recent childish actions he couldn't appear any more as the reckless and naïve yet talented pilot choosing space dangerous adventures to save the galaxy from the Resistance. He was an experienced Commander that survived a war that took away too many souls from both sides. His charm remained there, only more mature looking.

"Oh. Well how shameful that would be to drown on the floor anyway," you stuttered as you sat up. "Exactly. Now tell me why you want to stay alone in your corner when we are supposed to be a team."

Benevolent voice, stern eyes. The usual when it came to scolding you indirectly. You ignored his heavy boots soiling the tent floor around the entrance now that he took them off. Cold water kept on dripping down his hair and beard.

"I needed some time alone. As there is no emergency and as we are in a safe territory, I considered that guarding the area would be…"

Your words died down at the warning sent by his displeased face. Poe knew precisely when to detect lies. You suspected him of being a liar in his past.

"My orders were clear. We have to turn our tents towards each other so that we can keep an eye on everyone. Radars and patrols will take care of the rest with much more efficiency due to that weather." "I'm sorry sir. This won't happen again."

Regrets and guilt made your body feel smaller than ever as you stared at the ground, your chest heavy. Between exhaustion and negative thoughts, anger and tears started to get hard to keep at bay. So you focused on your nails picking on your pants while listening to Poe wiping his face and hair with some tissue.

"I know you're having a hard time but I need you to focus," he mumbled as he sat down closer to you, "and for that I also need you to tell me the truth. Is there any reason for you to disobey?" "I… I don't want to disobey. It's just that… I mean I am not feeling well. And it leads me to disobey when it's not my intention to do so."

The man hummed as he kept on drying himself, then you watched his hands resting on his knees.

"You were silent today," he stated gently. "Yeah… I didn't feel like joking around." "Something I said?"

A quick "no" of your head gave your answer and you took the hand reaching for you. Poe's skin felt fresh and you shivered at this contact.

"Sorry for that," he chuckled, "but I know someone needing some advice from the old man I am, am I wrong?"

You grinned before looking up at his warm eyes and just by doing that you felt better already. A beautiful and comforting brown that had seen so many terrifying things without losing hope or care. This inspired you a lot at your arrival in his squadron. Relaxing a bit more, you handed him a large sponge towel that rested in one of your travel bags. The Commander thanked you with that same gaze and you looked away as he rubbed it all over his wet clothes.

"I might… need some… advice," you confirmed reluctantly. "Oh, well, who doesn't. So… what's bothering you?" "I don't feel as… deserving of being part of your squadron. I'm never good enough, funny enough, serious enough, useful enough, and as we don't really have any major enemy it's like this squadron doesn't need as many pilots as there are today."

The man got as silent as paralyzed for a short time before kneeling in soft motions, his hands holding the folded sponge towel against his thighs as he sent you a comprehensive look.

"Isn't that the good ol' imposter syndrome if I see one," he commented with a smile. "Maybe. Personally I call that a good sense of reality." "We all called that thing in a similar way. I know how that feels. I know the dread it causes. Not good, not good. Why do you think you don't belong there with us?"

The hands resting on your shoulders hold them right, just enough to anchor you to this world and that yes, Poe Dameron himself was your Commander for real and that he wanted to understand you more instead of seeing you as a dead weight.

"I've heard how traumatic the war has been on our soldiers so don't get me wrong but… I feel like I should take part to something bigger than just patrols. I have my strengths and my weaknesses and I should use them wisely instead of hinting down some weird creatures or clans or pirates attacking merchants." "It sounds pretty wise to me not to take inconsiderate risks when there is none to take." "I don't know… I've grown up to propaganda telling me not to shy away at any threat, that I should jump into combat mode whenever I see a danger so I could be useful. I want to be part of something bigger. It sold me camaraderie, team work to kill off rebels. And here I am calculating asteroid's trajectory and shooting at drunkards thinking that attacking small ships is the greatest idea of their life."

You might have gotten a little carried away by your diatribe but the look of absolute softness in Poe's face was everything.

"Look at you, talking like my young self instead of wanting to acknowledge reality. I miss it sometimes."

The slight trembling of his lips stopped in less than a second but punched you in your guts. Poe Dameron fighting off rebels during incredible battles couldn't suprise you but him crying? No. Impossible. He was an intense guy but mature, a military man that carried a good part of the Order's offensives on his shoulders couldn't cry. He was solid as beskar.

"I don't like it when people cry," you commented awkwardly. "I get it. Wasn't that supposed to be the rebels only that would cry at their downfall while we would celebrate our victory, our freedom and our superiority?"

Some vague slogan similar to his sour words flashed before your eyes. Then the ones claiming that the First Order's wives cried the troops that perished. Then another one claiming that only rebels and their allies would suffer. Then back to the First Order orphans mourning their fathers. This time it was your turn to repress some tears and you hid your face in your hands, rubbing your cheeks and temples as exhaustion was winning its way through each of your nerves.

"I just want to find my place into something bigger. More important," you complained. "I think the same sometimes. Then I remember I wouldn't have much to do out of our fleet. I don't want to become a farmer or a merchant. Not anymore at least. Flying is what gives me the most the impression of being free despite all the calculation and discipline required."

Poe came closer again, sitting right by your left. The hand he extended towards you reached for the small tear escaping the corner of your eye.

"I'm not crying," you protested weakly. "I know. It's exhaustion. I used to say that too."

With a mere gesture of his arms opening he welcomed you warmly in his embrace. This unthinkable situation helped you release a few more tears that had nothing to do with fatigue and he frowned at the tension present in your stiff body.

"Can you sleep these days?" "No. I tried but I stopped," you whined.

Trusting him fully, you let him guide your weight so that you were lying back against the floor, the back of your head resting on his belly and the rest of your upper body between his legs that hold you firmly.

"Close your eyes. It's going to help," he instructed.

That position already started to lure your muscles into a sleepy state, and your heavy eyelids closed by themselves while Poe was rubbing your temples gently with his fingers. His skin warmed up during the time spent in your tent and his touch felt amazing. And just like that you welcomed his face massage as his spread his fingers and palms on your forehead, cheeks, chin, on the bridge of your nose, whenever you needed it. The hypnotizing circles as well as your own breathing slowing down brought you closer and closer to sleep.

"You're more useful than you think," he said after a while, "I wish you were part of my squadron during that war. I know I would be able to count on you no matter what. You're the kind of person I would be grateful to dedicate my life for."

His words reached your ears but you were too far gone to even react at them. Your jaws opened a while ago, completely relaxed by his ministrations. Your brain kept on registering his touch, the intensity, your breathing, his breathing, his skin's warmth. You let him keep you in that position and also let him grab your hands so that he could start massaging those parts.

"I hope you can sleep better after this," he whispered, "you deserve it. By the way do you think you'd be available for dinner once back at the base?"

A discreet and undecipherable mumble from you later and you fell into the deepest sleep of your life.

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Thanks for reading please comment and reblog if you liked it !

But the gloves… black leather, expensive, a gift for finally getting that promotion to General… they fit his hands so well… make it even harder than usual to keep your eyes off them, even harder to focus on what he says to you rather than the way he moves so enthusiastically, so unlike any other General you’ve worked with… almost uncontrolled in his motions, betraying his undesirable traits to any who look too close. Not that anyone would dare to criticise the best pilot in the Order.

They’re like a second skin, protecting him from the cool sterile air that somehow rushes through the ship despite the lack of wind, and when he balls his fists to emphasise his points… and you’re close enough to hear the leather creak with the curling of his fingers, the stretch of it over his knuckles…

It’s no surprise that you’re ordered to remain behind due to a lack of focus. Told to stay standing as General Dameron decides whether you need to go to reconditioning or not.

Your eyes meet his when his thumb tilts your chin upward, breath catching in your throat at the feel of how soft they are.

“Come with me.” He orders, and turns sharply on his heel, not waiting to see if you follow. Of course you follow.

All the way to his quarters.

“Bend over the desk.”

No pussyfooting around, as if he ever would.

You move quickly, setting your hands on the dark metallic surface, eyeing the documents littered across it.

“Bend.” A warm hand presses against your spine, between your shoulder blades, forcing you forward and not letting up until you’re parallel to the desk, legs at ninety degrees. “Good.” He hums, “I knew there was a reason you bought me these.”

“Yes, General.” You whisper.

“Highly inappropriate for someone of your station to be ogling a superior, especially one of my rank.”

“I’m sorry, Gen-“

His hand comes down hard against your clothed ass, cutting you off with the muffled slap. “I bet someone like you would prefer that on their bare skin.”

“Yes, General.”

He grins, those warm hands palming your ass cheeks briefly before he grabs the waistband of your standard issue uniform and tugs sharply, letting them pool at your ankles, your underwear quickly following the same path down your legs, leaving you exposed to him.

“Such a pretty pussy.” He smiles, those gloved fingers holding your ass before one hand moves… you can’t stop the whimper that breaks out when two of those fingers move through your folds and brush your clit lightly. He pulls away soon afterwards, “These were expensive, right?”

“Yes sir,” you nod.

“Shame.” He muses, “They’re going to stain.”

You whimper again.

“You’d like that though, wouldn’t you? Have me walking around my ship giving orders and pointing at troopers with your cum on my fingers?”

He leans over you, presses his hard cock against your bare cunt, “I’d like that too.”

“Fuck, Poe,” you whisper, “Don’t tease.”

He grins, kisses your cheek, “Can’t help myself, Captain Dameron, I lose my focus around you as much as you do around my gloves.”

You smile, and, pushing your luck, press yourself back against him.

“Stain my fucking pants too,” he groans, withdrawing from you. You can see a warped reflection in the base of lamp beside your head, so you have a moment of warning when those gloves touch you again. A hard spank, harsher than the other, the crack echoing through the small room as he watches your ass jiggle under the force of his hand, soothing over the sting as you gasp and moan.

“Can I fuck you?” He whispers, “Like this?”

“Yes, Poe. Please, General.”

“General! I’m so sorry, I wasn’t looking where I was going. Please don’t report me,” you begged.

The man stared at you with dark eyes; you knew you were going to be in so much trouble.

“Madame Hux, I have no intention of reporting you. Armie isn’t worth my time.” You couldn’t help but glance up. Had you heard him right?

“Did... did you just call him ‘Armie?’” You couldn’t help the giggle that escaped.

Poe looks at you. “My dear, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you make that sound.”

You lowered your gaze. “That’s because I have no reason to laugh here. Sir.” You quickly added an honorific in the hopes that he wouldn’t be insulted.

Instead his eyes darkened. You didn’t have time to wonder what that meant, since your husband rounded the corner.

“Ah, there’s my lovely bride. I think we should retire for the evening and continue getting to know one another.” His eyes roamed from your head to your toes, making your insides revolt.

“I’m sorry, Armitage, I’m not feeling well. I should spend the night elsewhere so I don’t get you sick.”

Before Hux could argue Poe interjected. “She can sleep in my quarters for the night. At least you know she’ll be watched.” Hux glared at Poe but finally relented.

“Of course. I need to answer some letters anyway, and it’ll be nice to not worry whether or not my bride is trying to escape again.” At that, your captor sharply turned down the hall to your quarters and you breathed in relief as he left your sight.

That relief quickly turned to dread when you remembered you’d be spending the night in General Dameron’s quarters. You followed behind him at a distance, listening to his boots echo through the corridor.

The door hissed open and you gasped. Instead of shades of black and gray like everything else on the ship, Poe’s quarters were stark white, almost blinding.

“Your quarters are impressive, Sir,” you stammered cautiously. There. There was that look again, as if he couldn’t decide what to do with you.

“Go ahead and take the bed. I’ll be up most of the night working,” Poe said, snapping you out of your thoughts.

Sleep came rather quickly, but you were restless. Memories of your village burning danced through your dreams, being ripped from your family’s embrace by your kidnapper, begging him to let you bring a few homely comforts.

You finally opened your eyes, realizing that your body was sore from sobbing in your sleep. It was dark; surely you remember General Dameron was working. Until you heard a voice next to you.

“Trouble sleeping?” He asked, voice gravelly, and definitely more attractive than it had any right being.

“Nightmares. Not that you care, since you’re the one responsible,” you huffed.

“Careful how you speak to me, pet, you forget your place.” Ok, you definitely shouldn’t like the way he called you “pet.”

“Besides, I care more than you know,” he whispers, voice trailing off.

“Yeah, right.” You turn away from him, hoping to get a few more hours of sleep before you start another tortuous day.

Poe slides up next to you, wrapping his arm over your waist. “You don’t think I care?”

“General, I think you feel something, but I highly doubt it’s ‘care.’ I think I’m simply a pawn in whatever game you and Armitage play.” You try to scoot away but Poe has a firm grip on you.

“Y/n, I’ve watched you since you were brought on board, desired you. Don’t tell me you haven’t thought the same?” You turn back, staring into his dark eyes, the only light coming from the stars as you race through hyperspace.

“I... it doesn’t matter what I think. No matter how I feel about you, Armitage would never-“ You stop as you realize what you confessed.

“So you DO feel something…” Poe looks at you hungrily.

“I mean, I definitely feel something, but I’m pretty sure that’s all you,” oh my stars, you think. What possessed you to make a dirty joke with one of your captors?!

Poe’s eyes crinkle, a smirk forming. He leans toward you, cupping your face with his strong hands, gently pressing his lips to yours. You whimper into his mouth as he deepens the kiss.

He pushes you on your back, resting his hands just under your tunic. He looks up at you, silently asking permission.

“We shouldn’t,” you protest.

Poe looks at you with his big brown eyes, lashes fluttering.

“Tell me you don’t want this. Just say ‘no’ and I’ll stop.”

But you can’t. You try to refuse but you just can’t say no to this.

You give him a slight nod and that’s all he needs. Softly, gently, he lifts the silky material up, raising you slightly to pull it over your head. You become self conscious, and try to pull the sheets around you. Poe grabs your wrists with one hand and pins them above your head. He stares down your body, bathed in starlight, as if he were a man starved.

Poe slowly trails down your torso, caressing your soft skin. His hand hovers above your heat, waiting. You arch your body into his hand and he laughs.

“Eager, pet?” He rolls on top of you, settling between your legs, his desire evident against your thighs. Poe leisurely pushes your leggings down and the air hits your glistening core. He inserts a finger and you wantonly moan as he adds another. Your toes curl along with his fingers inside you, a race to the finish line. The tension builds but Poe removes his hand before it snaps. You groan at the loss.

“Easy, pet, just wait,” Poe purrs as he removes his pants. Your eyes widen at the site of him, ruddy and weeping. He grunts as he sinks into you. He slowly pulls out before ramming back into you. You cry out at every thrust, at how delicious he feels within you.

You feel the heat pooling in your belly as the tension builds back up. Poe’s thrusts become sloppy as he chases his own release. Soon the dam breaks, waves of fire radiate from your core. Poe feels you clench around him and he pulses inside you, a blinding light as you scream his name.

Gently Poe lifts himself off of you and plops on the bed. You turn away, wondering if this was a mistake. If so, it’s probably the greatest mistake of your life.

“I should go,” you breathe.

“Don’t,” Poe begs, his eyes pleading. “You didn’t say ‘no’ so you don’t have to leave. I… I want you to stay. You’re the only light thing in a sea of black.”

You stare at him, your mouth agape. “What of Armitage? He may not be a genius but he’s not stupid.”

Poe’s glare turns dark. “Accidents happen all the time. Stormtroopers are notorious for missing their intended targets. It would be easy to take him out and blame it on bad aim.”

You run through all the possible scenarios and risks but come up with nothing.

Finding You Can Change

An irritated grumble threatens to escape Poe’s lips when he hears the loud banging on the door of his quarters. There’s no point in even having a door, because in 3, 2, 1, it opens with a hiss. Two Stormtroopers enter, and a First Order officer follows behind.

“Captain Dameron, you’re wanted by General Hux immediately.”

“Again?” Poe’s lips are in a tight line. His brow creased. Poe didn’t miss how the officer put emphasis on ‘captain.’ Poe was demoted today from commander to captain for ‘reckless’ flying. He’s been grounded and was told he’d been given other duties on the Starship instead of being allowed to pilot a TIE fighter.

The officer stands straight and still by Poe’s door. Poe gives him a look, and it’s apparent the officer won’t leave without Poe.

Poe huffs out his nose sharply, then stands to straighten his uniform. He tugs at the tight collar and smooths over any creases. His shiny boots click on the cold floor, begrudgingly following his new commanding officer to the general.

The Stormtroopers follow behind Poe. He raises an eyebrow in question, then chuckles to himself. They don’t trust him. Good. He likes it that way.

Poe wasn’t sure what he expected when he was to be brought to Hux, but what he sees before his eyes now is not it by any means. There’s officers and Stormtroopers all around, most of them working or standing guard. General Hux is by a large window overlooking the planet below. It’s the most gorgeous blue Poe’s ever seen. Standing next to him is a beautiful woman. You. You’re visible shaking, and Poe feels uncomfortable already.

He prefers flying, it’s easier. No emotions with flying around in a squadron. But seeing tears in your eyes, he shifts his weight on his boots. His hands behind his back clench into fists.

“Congratulations Captain Dameron,” Hux sneers. Poe wants to roll his eyes. Hux hates Poe as much as Poe hates him. Hux is the reason Poe was demoted. Poe’s ‘reckless flying’ was from flying too close to Hux’s particular window and scaring him. Poe still smiles at the thought.

“For what?” Why the hell is Hux congratulating him? “For being demoted for making you squeal?” A nearby officer snickers and Hux gives them a glare. Poe’s grin is smug.

“System 118 has agreed to our terms. A deal has been brokered. A peace offering given - pledging their allegiance to the First Order.”

“And?” Poe raises his eyebrows. He doesn’t care about this.

“She is the peace offering.” Hux points to you, and more tears fall from your eyes.

“What does that have to do with me?” Poe’s eyebrows crease in question. What is he supposed to do? Kill you?

“Meet your new wife!” Hux seems overjoyed to give Poe this news.

“Pardon?” Poe asks; at the same time, you gasp. A nearby Stormtrooper grabs your arm and shoves you towards Poe. He catches you; concern is all over his face. He can’t imagine what you’re thinking as you look at him. He’s thinking about how sad your eyes look, but also how lovely you are. Is that strange to think about? He wonders.

He’s so caught up looking at your face that he almost misses Hux happily declaring you as his bride.

“I think you’re supposed to kiss me,” you blink at him. The tears haven’t stopped falling from your eyes, and his chest feels tight. There’s an anger in the back of his neck. He doesn’t like this. There’s no way this ends with you just being his wife. What does that entail? Will you be something they use later? Is your life more than just as a bargaining chip?

“Right,” he murmurs to you and presses a quick peck to your lips. He frowns looking back up at Hux. Something is wrong with this.

“Commander!” Hux shouts, “fire at will!”

“What?” you shout and lunge forward.

“What’s going on here General?” Poe’s anger is building.

“I lied,” Hux shrugs. The nearby officers begin pushing buttons and pulling levers. In a few moments, an angry red beam hits the planet below. It pierces the surface and cracks the planet in two. The beautiful blue now red.

Screaming in horror, you fall to your knees watching your home planet fall to destruction. Poe is quick to catch you, and he presses your face into his neck.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, but he doesn’t know what good that does. For a moment you cry in his arms, then you pull back and hit his chest with your fists, crying all the while. Poe stands still, he lets you. You’ve lost your freedom and watched the destruction of your home in one day. He remembers losing his freedom.

“Best of wishes tonight Poe!” an officer laughs, “she’s a fighter!”

Poe almost pulls his blaster on the man in anger. Instead, he reaches for you gently. “C’mon,” he beckons. You don’t want to go with him, but you don’t have any other options.

The walk down to Poe’s quarters is long and awkward silence has Poe tugging on his collar again. His door opens with a hiss and you follow him inside.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Poe offers, he’s unsure of what to do. A sob escapes your lips and you run towards what you can only guess is his private refresher. The second the door closes behind you, the sobs come freely. The door does nothing to hide them from his ears. Poe stands alone in his room feeling helpless. He doesn’t want this any more than you do, but he didn’t lose his home today.

It’s such a private thing to hear someone cry, and he wishes he didn’t have to hear you. Because he can do nothing to offer any comfort. He doesn’t know how. He’s been trained for death and destruction since he was taken from his home as a child. He’s trained as a pilot his entire life, never thinking, or caring about others because he didn’t have to. Now there’s a woman, his wife, crying in his fresher and he has no idea what to do.

He stands by the door and almost knocks. His gloved hand forms a fist and he’s inches away from rapping his knuckles on the door, but he doesn’t know what to say.

Your crying seems to get louder, echoing in the small space. He knows that you know he can hear you. It hits him then that you were given to him as a punishment – but he will not punish you for this. The thought fills him with dread that you could have been given to someone else. He has no desire to hurt you. You’re not his enemy. He’s never been entirely sure who his enemy is. Adrenaline and thrill of the flight has pushed those thoughts from his mind. But8 being grounded and you brought into his life is changing everything he thought he knew.

He has to say something.

He takes a deep breath and steps closer to the door, getting ready to knock.

“Leave me alone,” your voice is muffled through the door. You heard him take a breath.

“I only wish to know your name.”

“My name?”

“They never even told me your name,” he huffs out his nose in distaste.

The door hisses open and suddenly you’re face to face with him. He looks at your appearance. Eyes puffy from crying. Cheeks stained with smudged makeup. Your dress is elegant and flattering to your figure. What a terrible wedding day.

You both look each other over. His uniform is the sleek black that matches all the rest. But you notice his eyes have something in them that the others don’t. His hair is styled nicely. Curls slicked back on his head in thick waves, then the sides of his head above his ears are shaved. It’s clean and sharp, just like the rest of him. He’s all sharp angles, except for those soft eyes and lips.

You say your name, and he repeats it.

Your next action shocks him. You start to remove your dress, but he stops you.

“What are you doing?” he asks, your wrists in his hands.

“I don’t have any choice, do I? I’d rather let it happen than you-“

“Hurt you?” he finishes your sentence. “No,” he lets go of your hands. “You don’t have to let them win.”

“But I’ve already lost everything,” you look down at your feet. “You, my husband, are all I have. I guess.”

“Here,” he steps away from you and pulls a drawer from a hidden dresser in the wall. He hands you a pair of shorts and a soft shirt. He feels your fingers touch his. Even through the leather of his gloves it sends a spark.

“Standard issue?” you smile. That’s the first smile of yours he’s seen. It’s lovely.

“It’s all I have that’s comfortable,” he replies with a smile of his own.

“Thank you,” you nod. He swears he can see a shy smile on your lips as you hold the clothes tight. He’s already feeling taken with you.

“You’re welcome,” Poe nods back.

You take a step towards the fresher, but his voice stops you.

“Have you eaten? Would you like me to bring you something?” He watches your expression for any apprehension. He can tell you’re nervous. This situation is delicate. He wants you to feel safe.

“I don’t want to be alone,” you admit. He nods and offers you his arm. You set down the little stack of folded clothes on his desk and take his elbow. He smiles to himself when he feels you squeeze his bicep.

It’s a strange feeling walking down the corridors of the Starship with you on his arm. You squeeze tighter every time someone passes by. In his youth, Poe would have loved knowing the fear the First Order brought. But seeing the direct result of it, and having you literally thrown into his life has him thinking differently. Your smile is so much more beautiful than your sobs of fear.

Once you reach the entryway for the common eating area, Poe places his hand on your back and gently nudges you in the doorway. Your eyes look frantic in the room full of officers. Poe’s look is stern, but his touch is gentle and protective. He directs you to a corner table and takes your hand as you sit down.

“I’ll be right back,” he makes sure you see his eyes. You nod, but he senses your nerves.

He turns away from you for a moment to get some food for you both. Turning back around, he sees a couple officers cornering you at the table.

“Hey!” Poe snaps. A snarl is on his lips as he storms over, dropping the plates with a clatter on the table. He grabs one officer by his uniform shirt and pulls him towards his face. “Leave her alone.”

“Captain Dameron!” Poe stops when he hears Hux speak his name. He sees your eyes wide with fear, and Poe turns to face Hux – his hands still holding the other officer’s uniform. “Would you like to be demoted a second time today?”

Poe looks between Hux, the officer, and you. He releases his grip on the officer, and sits down across from you at the table, ignoring those around him and digs into his food.

Hux turns with a laugh and the rest of the men follow, leaving you alone with Poe at the table. It’s only then you feel like eating.

“Demoted?” you ask, attempting to make conversation.

“He hates me,” Poe smiles fondly. “I was a pilot. I flew too close to his window. Scared him.” He can’t help but smile retelling the story. “I heard he squealed.”

Laughter bubbles up from your lips and you both laugh at the thought of Hux getting scared.

“He demoted you for that? Seems a little harsh.”

“He said something about respecting my superior officer, but I wasn’t listening.”

Another smile breaks out on his face as you continue to laugh. Poe feels a pride in getting you to laugh so much after such a terrible day.

Once you’ve finished your meals, Poe offers you his arm again and proudly leads you through eating area. The walk back to his quarters seems less long, and lighter. You make light chit chat all the way to his room. It carries on, only stopping when you grab the clothes, he gave you and step into the fresher.

When the door is closed behind you, he takes this opportunity to change out of his uniform. He’s glad to be rid of the collar itching his throat. He moves about his room as normal, hanging up his uniform and pulling on a pair of sleep pants and a comfortable shirt. When he passes by the refresher door, he gets a whiff of your perfume hanging in the air. He can hear you crying softly in the refresher, obviously hoping the water would mask the sound of your broken heart. But he hears it all the same.

This hurts him, even though he brought a smile to your face and had you laughing – the pain of loss still lingers in your mind.

He decides to busy himself now with making a bed for himself. He has an extra blanket to sleep on. The ship runs cold most of the time, but Poe finds himself hot at night. He’ll be fine to sleep on this folded up blanket on the floor. He will give you his bed.

He hears the fresher door open, and he stands from where he was kneeling on the floor by his makeshift bed. You stand awkwardly, hair wet and your dressed draped over your arm.

“Here,” he walks towards you. “I’ll take that.” As he approaches you, his eyes can’t help but see your nipples through the shirt he gave you. When you cross your arms over your chest, he feels his cheeks heat up in embarrassment. He ducks his head and takes the dress to hang it up in his closet.

After he hangs it up, he turns to see you start to lay down on the blanket laid out on the floor.

“No, you can take the bed.”

“Are you sure?” you act surprised by his gesture. He nods jutting his chin out. He’s sure. You don’t ask any more questions. He watches you climb under the covers and lay down with a sigh.

“I don’t want this as much as you do,” he offers as he lays down. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know this would happen.”

“What did you expect joining the First Order?”

“It wasn’t my choice.”

“You could have left.”

“I don’t get that choice. You can’t leave.” He sighs and says “OFF.” The bright room is suddenly dark, and he hears you gasp softly. He rolls over trying to ignore your cries, but it’s not working.

Eventually, exhaustion and grief catch up with you. He can tell when you’re asleep because your breathing evens out. Laying there in the darkness, he tries to imagine what life the two of you will even lead now. What will your purpose be for him?

Poe must have fallen asleep at some point because he wakes up in the middle of the night to hear you scream.

“ON.” Poe says quickly and scrambles to get up to see what’s wrong. His eyes adjust quickly, but yours don’t and you’re blinking rapidly. You’re sitting upright in the bed, more tears welling up in your eyes. “What’s wrong?” Poe asks.

“Nightmare,” is all you can manage to say. All you could see was your home crack in to pieces. “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” Poe sits back down on his bed.

“Waking you.”

He shrugs and lays back down. “Off.”

“Wait, on.”

When the light doesn’t turn on, Poe laughs.

“On,” he says, and the lights turn on. He sits up, still laughing.

“What?” you smile too, a little embarrassed.

“It’s trained to my voice,” he says. “But I can program yours in too if you’d like. What did you want?”

“Oh.” You’re visibly flustered, and Poe is delighted in this. It means you’re feeling comfortable around him, even though you’re flustered. That’s better than angry by a mile. “The floor looks terribly uncomfortable.”

“It is, actually.” Poe laughs, raking his hands through his curls. He needs more gel in his hair because the curls aren’t slicked back anymore but are resting on his forehead.

“Would you-“

“Join you?” Poe smiles softly. He knows why you want him up there. He tosses his pillow up and climbs under the covers with you. “OFF.”

“I didn’t want to be alone,” you whisper.

“I know,” he says quietly. His shoulder is touching yours, and he’s about to roll over when you suddenly reach for him. Fumbling in the dark, your hand brushes against his crotch, and he sits up grabbing your hand. “What are you doing?”

“I don’t know,” you pull your hand away and roll away from him. “You were being so nice I-“

“You don’t have to,” he tells you. Voices whispered in the dark offer little comfort, but his is a comfort to you somehow.

“I just thought, since you’re my husband now...”

Poe snickers, “what a day huh?” He laughs, but you’re not laughing. Your voice sounds small when you speak again.

“I understand if you don’t want me. You probably have someone else.”

“It’s quite the opposite in fact,” he admits. He’s taken many lovers in his life, but there is no one else for him. And he is quite taken with you. “In fact, your touch has turned me on.”

With the command from his voice, the lights turn on, causing you to giggle.

“OFF.” He says immediately, getting another laugh from you. “So, you’re not scared of me?”

“No,” you reply. “I’m scared of them, not you.”

He feels your body jump under his hand when he touches your arm. He rolls you over on your back. Your eyes have adjusted, and you can barely make out each other’s faces, but it’s enough.

“I wouldn’t be opposed,” he grins. “But if you don’t want this – then no harm done. You weren’t expecting this.”

“Actually, I was.”

“How?” Poe sits up. “On.”

In the light, you sit up too, facing him.

“I knew I was going to be a peace offering for my home. It was not my choice, but I knew for some time. I was frightened, but then they sent me to you. And you’ve been nothing but kind. And-“

“And what?”

“Say ‘off,’” you smile, flustered again.

“Oh, no. You’re gonna say it,” Poe quirks up a brow and waits. He holds your gaze. He doesn’t mind staring at your face. He watches you wriggle uncomfortably. Taking a chance, he leans forward, his lips millimeters for yours. “Say it.”

“You’re gorgeous,” you whisper.

He chuckles darkly.

“Off.”

Then his lips are on you. He’s a little rough, but his hands are gently pushing you back down on the bed. His teeth clack against yours, and he growls when your fingers weave through his curls. His tongue slips into your mouth and you gasp a little.

“Poe,” you keep gasping his name through hot kisses, “Poe, wait!” You’re laughing but he can hear the skittish tone in your voice. “I’ve never done this,” you say really fast. As if that will make it easier to admit.

Poe sighs in the dark, you can’t see his expression. He can’t see yours. That wild pilot side of him is eager, he’s never been anyone’s first before. But this new side of him that’s embracing the emotions, decides it’s better for everyone to go easy on you.

“Nice and slow,” Poe says, kissing your lips again. It’s been so long since he’s enjoyed the taste of another. His hands slide under your shirt and you help him pull it off. In the dark, he finds your breasts and cups them greedily. Your gasp is sharp and is music to his ears. He squeezes them and his thumbs flick over your nipples. “Baby, you got nice tits,” he purrs in your ear.

Your head falls back on the pillow when his lips latch on a nipple.

“Poe,” you gasp.

“Yeah, baby?” he hums.

“What do I do?” your voice is sheepish. Your body is responding, and he can tell you’re into this. But it’s driving him wild that you’re shy.

“Put your hands anywhere you want, baby. Pull on my hair.”

You give his curls a slight tug, and he moans. You do it again, pulling that groan from his lips.

“Atta girl. You’re catching on quick.”

He takes this opportunity to take off his shirt. He scoots down on the bed and reaches for the hem of the shorts he gave you.

“Is this ok?” he asks tugging a little.

“Yes.”

As soon as the confirmation leaves you lips, he pulls them down and off. He chuckles again when your legs clamp together.

“Baby, if you want me in there you gotta open up.” He rests his hands on your thighs, and he’s dizzied with his own arousal. You feel so good in his hands. He’s already decided he wants to give you everything.

He feels when the tension in your legs fade, and he takes that as his cue to part your thighs for him.

“Good girl,” he licks his lips and sucks with a loud smack. You jump when you feel a fingertip touch your sex. “Easy,” he coos. “Gotta get you warmed up for me.” His thumb begins working circles on your sex, and he slides a finger then two into your heat. He coaxes you through the first orgasm, then he adds another finger. Your whines only encourage him.

When he deems you ready for him, he tugs off his pants and positions himself on top of you.

He wears a ring around his neck on a chain, and it touches your chest and you gasp in surprise.

“What’s that?”

“Oh,” he stops, taking the necklace off. “I’ve had it since I can remember. I think it was my mother’s or something. I suppose you should wear it now.”

“Why?” you whisper.

“You’re my wife.” He’s surprised at himself for saying it, but he’s accepted it. He puts the ring on your finger. Your fingers fumble together in the dark. He holds that hand when he pushes himself inside you.

He pauses when you wince, giving you a moment. You surprise him then with a sudden kiss and roll your hips under him. He laughs, feeling your eagerness grow as you become more and more at ease with this whole situation, and him.

His hips move fast and hard. You’re seeing stars and you feel a tight coil in your belly like you’ve never felt before and he’s already given you an amazing orgasm.

“I’m gonna spoil you baby, give you everything you want.” He purrs in your ear, biting it. His hands squeeze your breasts.

“Harder,” you groan. He obliges. His grin could split his face.

He feels you tighten around him, and your release hits you both hard. It triggers his own and he spills himself into you. Your groans mix together with heated kisses.

“Beautiful,” Poe hums kissing you before he rolls off you.

“You can’t even see me,” you giggle.

“Oh yeah? On.”

You shriek and jump under the covers with a laugh. He shoves his hands underneath to tickle your sides. When the covers fall, exposing you fully to him in the light, he smiles.

“I got damn lucky.”

“So did I,” you smile and lean forward to kiss him. Your fingers tug on his curls a little more and he closes his eyes happily. He gives you another quick peck then hops off the bed and disappears into the fresher.

He returns with a damp rag to clean the sticky between your thighs. Maybe it’s the loss and trauma from today, or maybe it’s the intimacy in his touch, but tears fall from your eyes once more. Only this time you don’t fight them or try to hide them from him. This time his thumb gently reaches up your dry your tears.

“I’m sorry,” Poe says again, laying down beside you on his back. Timidly, you curl up next to him. With a sure arm, he guides you to rest your head on his chest, and he holds you tight. “Off.”

He doesn’t know how else to apologize for what’s happened today, but he can only hope that he’s brought you some comfort with intimacy. If anything, it’ll help you sleep.

For the second time that night Poe finds himself laying awake, hearing you drift off to sleep. This second time is much better. He didn’t realize how empty his bed felt before.

He sleeps hard.

He almost forgot what happened the day before. When he wakes up next to you, it startles him for a moment. But when he sees your sleeping face, he smiles softly.

The peaceful moment is rudely interrupted when Poe’s door opens, and he hears Hux’s voice shout “ON!”

When the lights come on, Poe immediately covers your body with his, pulling the sheets up around you both. You gasp at being woken up so abruptly, and Poe gives you a look of apology.

“Can this wait?” Poe’s voice rises in anger. You’re embarrassed and he’s angry, you’ve had enough stress for a dozen lifetimes.

“So, you didn’t waste any time then,” Hux sneers. Poe turns his head slightly, seeing Hux with two officers and 6 Stormtroopers. He smirks to himself. They really don’t trust him.

“Would you mind giving me and my wife some privacy?”

“I won’t be actually,” Hux tuts. “There’s been a change of plans.”

“I’m sorry, sweetheart, I don’t know what’s going on,” Poe whispers you an apology, your eyes are wild with fear.

“Sweetheart?” Hux continues to laugh. “He’s become attached,” Hux looks to the officers for a supportive laugh. They reply in tight smiles, no one thinks this is funny but Hux. “Then this will become more of a shock.”

“What are you talking about?” Poe asks. He can feel his blood pressure rising.

“There’s been a change of plans, and I’d like the peace offering back.”

The anger in Poe’s chest blooms and he grits his teeth. He blows hot air out his nose and jumps out of the bed, much to the shock of everyone in the room.

Poe doesn’t care that he’s naked either, his anger has him seeing red. You pull the sheets up to your nose and delight in the shock all over Hux’s face as Poe grabs him by the collar. The Stormtroopers are unsure of what to do – they stand frozen in shock. The other two officers are stifling laughs at Hux’s expense.

“If you dare to touch one hair on her head,” Poe snarls. His grip tight on Hux’s collar.

“You’ll what?” Hux challenges back through his surprise. “Seize her!” Hux orders the Stormtroopers.

“Don’t!” Poe yells and leans back, and with full force he punches Hux in the nose. Hux leans forward yelling in pain, grabbing his already bleeding nose. Poe takes this as his chance to run behind his desk, he yells “OFF!” and you hear blaster fire – and see six red bolts zap across the room.

When the blaster fire stops, the smell of smoke is thick in the air. Hux yells out “ON!”

All six Stormtroopers lay dead on the floor. The two officers stand in amazement at what they’ve just seen. Slowly they walk backwards through the doorway, their footsteps running down the corridor can be heard echoing.

You’d be scared of Hux in this moment, but this situation is humorous. His face is red with anger and his own blood pouring from his nose. Poe stands behind his desk, his eyes full of rage. You’re not scared of Poe – but between the two men, Poe’s expression is more terrifying. Poe looks at you, and he sees no fear in your eyes, which is all that matters. He also sees your eyes flick down to look at his ass, which gives him a little pride.

Hux makes a threat, then trips over a dead Stormtrooper on his way out the door.

The moment the door closes, Poe’s shoulders drop, and the blaster falls from his hand with a loud clatter. His hands come to rest on his desk, and he sighs, you can see him trembling from the bed. Wrapping the sheet around yourself, you gingerly walk towards him – putting a hand on his shoulder. He tenses at first, then relaxes at your touch when he sees your face.

“We have to leave,” he tells you, looking at his knuckles, they’re bruising. “Now. I have no idea where we’ll go, but I have to get you out of here.”

“I know a place,” you tell him. “We’ll need a ship.”

He nods, starting to get dressed in his uniform.

“Get dressed,” he tells you, tossing you your dress. “We can’t waste any time”

“Poe,” you reach for him, your hand coming to rest on his bicep. “Thank you.” He holds your gaze for a  beat, nods, then turns towards his closet to get his uniform shirt and coat. He feels your gaze hold, and you reach for his bruised hand. Your thumb softly touches his knuckles. “You risked your life for me.”

He pulls his hand from your grasp and cups your cheek, “we need to go, sweetheart.” He leans forward to brush his lips on your forehead. “Hux’s broken nose gave us some time, but we don’t have much.”

You take the dress and Poe tries not to let his eyes linger – but he’s captivated by your beauty. Seeing you standing naked in his room, that shy look in your eyes as you try to dress quickly.

“Can you?” you turn your back to him, signaling you need him to fasten some clasps in the back.

“You are beautiful, you know,” Poe offers quietly. His hands squeeze your hips a little in comfort. “Ready?”

You nod, and he holsters his blaster. He shoves a large amount of credits in his pockets from drawers, then you’re out the door.

You hold your skirts in one hand, allowing you to walk quickly. Poe’s hand is on your back, his other hand ready on his blaster.

He sneaks you both into the main ship’s hangar. A squad of Stormtroopers is following closely behind. He manages to kill a couple of them before directing you to his TIE fighter. Blaster rounds hit the ship, and Poe swears under his breathe trying to get the ship to come to life.

“Coordinates?” he looks to you and you give them; he punches them in quickly and makes the jump to lightspeed.

He sighs loudly and leans back in the pilot seat.

“Where are we going?” Poe asks once he catches his breath. He looks on the screen and sees the coordinates location.

“The Resistance base.”

“You’re Resistance?” Poe’s eyebrows raise, and he laughs in surprise.

“You are too now,” you tell him. “When we get close, I’ll open a channel, so they won’t shoot us out of the sky.”

Poe nods. He’s glad he’s left the First Order, but a thought haunts him now. What if, you want nothing to do with him after this? He’s only known you for a day, but you’ve changed the entire course of his life.

“Look,” he starts, and you look up at him. Your eyes are so beautiful, if you really do turn him away, he doesn’t know what he’ll do. “I understand if when we get on base, if – if you don’t want anything to do with me.”

“Who said anything about that?” you ask him, reaching for his hand. “You’re my husband.” You take off his glove, checking on his bruised knuckles. “I owe you my life.”

“I don’t want you to stay because you feel you owe me,” he starts to pull his hand away, but you won’t let him pull away.

“Well maybe I have a crush,” you avoid his gaze and start to trace the veins on the back of his hand. “On a certain commander who punches First Order Generals while naked.” Your eyes look up at him, and he sees the humor in your eyes, and the soft grin on your cheeks.

“It was only because I was naked right?” he deadpans, getting you to laugh. “Don’t think I didn’t see you look at my ass sweetheart,” he leans forward, lips near yours. He growls playfully and nips at your bottom lip. “Maybe I have a crush too on a beautiful woman who lost everything but still shows a tremendous strength.”

His heart his hammering in his chest, and he wonders if you feel the same.

“And she makes these cute little noises when I touch her tits,” his eyes flick up to yours, the emotion on your face goes from soft to a flustered grin.

You shake your head and lean in to kiss his lips.

“You’re wrong about one thing though,” you comb your fingers through his wild curls. No time for gel this morning.

“What’s that?”

“I didn’t lose everything.” He quirks a brow. “I got you.”

He blinks, then smiles kissing you again. “You’re wrong about one thing too,” he teases.

“Oh?”

“You called me commander. It’s captain remember?”

“Oh, I didn’t forget,” you laugh, “but I didn’t think we were listening to anything Hux said.”

A beeping alerts Poe that you’re near the system.

“You’re up,” he tells you. The ship drops out of lightspeed and a green planet comes into view. He watches you with silent pride as you open a channel to the base below requesting permission to land.

Poe feels uneasy, his entire life he’s been a part of the First Order. He’s stepping into uncharted territory.

“C’mon,” you tell him and offer your hand. He takes it and follows you off the ship. A curious crowd of rebels have gathered, they’re excited to see a TIE fighter up close. And many that have gathered are friends of yours.

Poe hears whispers as people walk by, and he holds your hand tighter.

The both of you are greeted then by an older woman, she has kind eyes. Poe observes her take your hands in hers and give her a gentle look. He can’t place it, but he knows she must have heard what happened with your home yesterday. You hug this woman, and Poe can barely make out what she says to you in your ear, something about how “she’s been where you are.”

He waits patiently for the introduction to be made, and his heart jerks in his chest when he hears you call him your husband.

“It’s a long story,” you laugh, but you pat his arm and lean up to kiss his cheek. “The First Order has ruined his life too, and he’s got intel. I trust this man with my life.”

Never once does it cross Poe’s mind to reveal the location of this base to the First Order, in fact it now gives him a great joy that he knows this big secret and Hux doesn’t. Now he knows why Hux must have wanted you this morning. The fact that you trust him so deeply with this, touches his heart.

“Wait, you’re Commander Poe Dameron?” someone runs up. There’s a burst of laughter and at first Poe frowns to be the center of attention. “Were you the one that broke Hux’s nose? While naked??”

Poe looks at you, and you both share a laugh.

“Word travels fast,” Poe feels smug. Hux is probably seething with rage even more now that he’s figured out Poe and gotten away, and you with him.

Poe looks around this place, sees all the smiling faces. He’s never seen so much happiness in his life. He watches you walk away with General Organa and he feels his heart jump again. He thinks he might love you, and when you turn around to give him a smile, he thinks you might love him too.

“Tell us the story!” another voice pipes up. Poe looks at all their faces and starts to smile himself. He opens his mouth to speak when he stops, noticing all their uniforms aren’t tight around the neck. Oh yes, he’s going to love it here.

xxx

He had caught your eye the moment he landed in the hangar, jumping out of his busted up x-wing with a grace that was rare from such pilots.

You were about as close to the top of the totem pole as you could be without having the responsibilities of someone at the top. Your title was “Agent”--you were above Phasma but below Hux and you liked having a different life from the rest of the people in the First Order.

Your job was to gather information from around the galaxy and hand it over to Hux, and you did a fantastic job of it.

So, naturally, when the Resistance’s top pilot showed up on the doorstep and there were whispers of him having defected, you were called up immediately. If anyone could get the truth out of him, you could.

You weren’t necessarily expecting him to be the most handsome man you’d ever laid eyes on, but your work came first. You interrogated him for hours that first day, grilling him ruthlessly and exchanging flirty comments until you were sure that his loyalties were to the First Order.

You learned two things, right off the bat, about Poe Dameron.

One, he was a terrible liar. He couldn’t tell you that he hated General Organa without his lip trembling. She’d been something like a surrogate mother to him, but he’d made a choice that would benefit everyone. A choice to preserve justice.

Two, he was different from the rest of the First Order, just like you. He wasn’t here because he had a taste for blood or because he wanted to get revenge on someone. He wanted order. He wanted to stop watching his loved ones get hurt because there was no one to protect them.

You despised violence, too. That was why you worked in intel.

Naturally, Poe had been taken with you from the very beginning. You weren’t cold and unfeeling like some of the other people around the base, and you were beautiful. He hadn’t expected someone of your caliber to be here, and he was thankful as hell that you’d been assigned to him as his welcome party.

You also found out that he led with his tongue and that he oozed confidence, but those weren’t professional observations.

Affection wasn’t outrightly condemned by the First Order, but there was definitely a nonverbal agreement among its members that romance didn’t really have a place in such an organization. So it was great, really, that you weren’t technically an officer, because it meant you could do almost anything you wanted to with minimal consequences.

Poe barely waited two days to make his move on you.

His second night on base, Poe started banging on the door to your quarters like the whole planet was on fire.

“You’re gonna get yourself in trouble,” you hissed before grabbing ahold of his shirt collar and pulling him inside. You checked up and down the hallway before shutting the door behind him. “Why are you here?”

“Wanted to see you,” he shrugged like it was nothing.

“Why would you want to see me?”

He shrugged again. “You’re the closest thing I have to a friend around here. And I was bored, and I had an idea.”

You smirked teasingly as you brushed your hair behind your ears. “Great. Those are never good for you.”

“Wow, okay,” he gasped, feigning offense. “Harsh. No, I think you’ll like this idea.”

“Well, are you gonna tell me what it is? Or are you gonna leave me in suspense forever?”

“Think of it as a symbiotic relationship,” he explained, unconsciously ruffling his beautiful, dense curls. “I know you’re the best spy around here. I know all of the Resistance’s secrets. You’ll get so many awards for that kind of intel, you won’t know what to do with ‘em all.”

You couldn’t deny that the prospect was appealing. As much as the First Order appreciated the information you drudged up, your well had been running dry recently. Whatever Poe had to give you would definitely be priceless.

You raised an eyebrow. “Why would you give me that kind of information? What’s in it for you?”

His mouth turned up in a smirk, and you almost audibly gulped.

“I get to rail the hottest woman in the galaxy.”

Ten minutes later, you had a hand clapped over his mouth to silence his gorgeous moans as he blew his load on your heaving chest.

You were definitely getting more out of the bargain than he was. Not only did he give you one of the Resistance’s main supply routes in exchange for sucking him off, but you got to suck him off. You’d had your eyes set on him since he first set foot in the hangar. You had been lonely for a while, and you could tell that he had been, too. It was nice to take comfort in someone else, even if it was only for a little while.

The next time he knocked on your door, he offered you the name of a high-level Resistance intel operative. Basically the Resistance’s version of you. He ate you out that time, returning the favor for your previous encounter and also so he could find out what you liked. He’d need that information for the next time you got together.

He put it to good use when he came to give you the intel operative’s last known location.

He finally fucked you that time, on your knees from behind with your back up against his chest. He panted and whimpered against your shoulder as his fingers expertly worked your clit and your tits. You came four times that night in just one hour with Poe, and you felt it every time you moved for the rest of the week.

You tried desperately not to fall for him. You knew it was just sex. It was just a fun way to relieve stress, and it was aiding your career. Still, you couldn’t help developing some sort of fondness for Poe. You found yourself hoping for his familiar knock every night when you were alone in your quarters, and the nights he didn’t come by you would usually end up touching yourself to the thought of him.

But it was just sex. You couldn’t afford for it to be anything more, and he hadn’t given you any indication that he shared your affections.

You didn’t know what came over you, but all you could remember of the previous five minutes, when Poe opened the door to his quarters, was feeling a crippling loneliness in your room by yourself.

He was surprised to see you since you’d never knocked on his door before, but his face lit up instantly.

“Agent (Y/L/N). You’re up late.”

He wasn’t wrong. It was two in the morning.

“So are you.”

He chuckled at that. “Touché. Did you need something?”

God, he sounded like sex. How was that even possible?

“Yeah. You.”

That was the first time he’d ever kissed you. Before then he would trail open-mouthed kisses over your body, but in five times of being together in the most intimate way possible he’d never bridged that gap. Kissing was too intimate. Too dangerous.

He’d always loved danger, and you were as dangerous as it got.

He wanted you to stay that night after he’d fucked you--rough and fast from behind, because he couldn’t let himself get too close yet--but he understood that you couldn’t. You would someday, though. He would make sure of it.

Poe Dameron’s biggest weakness was his heart. It was too big for his own good. Sure, he’d wanted your relationship to be purely physical. It would’ve been easier for both of you, considering who you worked for. But he’d been attached from the very first moment you’d touched him, and not just because you were oddly good at giving head. He wasn’t flattering you when he said he thought you were the hottest woman in the galaxy. He truly believed it, and he was falling for you.

If he was smart, he would’ve called off your little arrangement before it became too much for the pair of you to handle. But he wanted to be selfish for once in his life.

You weren’t fucking him for the intel anymore. More often than not, he didn’t give you anything new, anyway, but you didn’t care. You wanted him, not Resistance secrets. As much as you hated to admit it, you were falling for him. Hard and fast.

He didn’t know why he thought it was a good idea. You were just so fucking good with your mouth, and he was feeling a bit lonlier than usual.

“You’re so fucking gorgeous,” he mumbled with a tenderness in his voice that scared you as you licked his come off of your lips. You smiled to yourself anyway, gently biting the sensitive skin of his thigh before pushing yourself to your feet. 

“I think I love you.”

Fucking shit. Of course he had to make this difficult.

“A horrible decision on your part, really,” you mumbled, pressing a chaste kiss to his jaw before you adjusted your shirt and tried your hardest not to sprint out of his quarters.

The bastard actually smiled as he watched you flee, though, because he knew what it meant. Maybe you didn’t say it back, but you loved him, too. And the way you ran all but confirmed it.

You tried to avoid him after that, but he was impossible to shake off.

“Why are you scared?” He asked with a wide smile one night after he trapped you in an abandoned hallway.

You knew exactly what the real question he was asking was. Why are you scared of loving me?

“Because I don’t want to stand out in a crowd of unfeeling killers!” You hissed before you could stop yourself.

He let it sink in for a moment, and it hit him a lot harder than it should’ve.

He didn’t know why he was surprised at your wavering loyalty. You’d described how hard you’d fought to remain, technically, out of the First Order’s ranks. Still, he was shocked that you weren’t truly as dedicated as you pretended to be.

“If you don’t trust them, why are you here?”

“Because I don’t have a reason not to be,” you whispered, trying your damnedest to escape him.

He pressed closer still, completely trapping you between his arms as he supported himself against the wall. “We could leave.”

“No, we can’t,” you snapped. Your eyes frantically glanced up and down the hallway. You never knew when someone could be watching or listening--or both.

“Yes, we can,” he insisted quietly. “I still have contacts in the Resistance.”

“I know you do.”

“You do?”

You smiled sourly. “You’re a terrible liar, Poe Dameron. I know you’re not here because of loyalty to the First Order. I knew from the very first time we spoke.”

He gaped at your confession. “You knew I was here on a mission?”

“Of course I knew. How could I not? You stuck out like a sore thumb, Poe, and I dig up secrets for a living. That, and, every time you gave me a base location or a trading route, the rebels were surprisingly prepared for attack. That only happens when there’s a mole on the inside.”

He pushed himself away from the wall as he let your words soak in. He hadn’t meant to give you a window to escape him, but you took the opportunity without a second thought.

He knocked on your door that night. You turned off the lights, locked your door, and pretended you were out.

You wanted his comfort that night, especially since you didn’t know when you would get the chance again. You would be leaving for a mission in the morning--a simple intel exchange at some hotshot senator’s wedding. You weren’t sure how long you would be away, though, and you wanted Poe to wish you luck. He was really, really good at it.

You needed the night to think things over, though.

One thing was for certain: this had become far more than a casual sex-for-information exchange. You were in love with Poe Dameron and--stranger yet--he was in love with you. He was offering you a way out of this.

But you didn’t really want a way out. Law and order were important to you, and they were also important to the First Order.

How bad could the Resistance be, though, when they had someone like Poe Dameron?

It didn’t matter. You had chosen your course in life, and if that meant you had to stop casually fucking Poe, then you would do it. It would break your heart, but you would do it.

He barged into your room the next morning while you were packing.

“Don’t go.”

You sighed deeply, straightening the fabric of your short a-line dress as you set some folded clothes into the bag on your mattress.

“I have to. Important intel drop. If I don’t, they’ll kill me.”

You turned to face him, and you regretted it immediately. He’d skipped the typical gray officer uniform, instead opting for a navy blue sweatshirt that he’d left half-unzipped (with nothing underneath) and a pair of tight athletic pants. You had no doubt that he’d specifically formulated this outfit to turn you on, and it was working. The little amount of his chest you could see was enough to have your thighs squeezed together, and the view of his bulge...

But you had to go. You would be in some deep shit if you didn’t.

“I’m leaving today,” he told you quietly once he’d closed the door behind him. “Come with me. Please.”

“I can’t.”

“You can.”

“Why are you so fucking impossible?” You sighed, exasperated.

He took a step closer, his eyes already dark. Your dress was low-cut, and he didn’t even try to hide the fact that he was staring at your wonderful cleavage.

“Because I’m in love with you. And you’re in love with me.”

“No I’m not.”

He smirked, and it was the closest you’d ever seen him to actually looking like a First Order officer. “Yes, you are. Say it.”

“Fuck off, Dameron. I don’t have time for this.”

He’d gotten dangerously close, and every instinct in your body told you to push him away. Instead, you found yourself wrapping your arms around his neck.

“I like fucking you, but I’m not in love with you,” you whispered against his neck, and even you didn’t believe yourself.

“Sure, sweetheart. Whatever you say.”

He led with his tongue, just like he always had. It was a little different this time, though. He kissed you with everything he had, like he was trying to convince you to leave with him. He was. You could feel his hands on your thighs, squeezing and kneading until they slid up to your ass, pushing the skirt of your dress up with them.

He let out a groan when his fingers came into contact with the skimpy thong you were wearing.

“Fucking... what's with this, baby?”

You shrugged simply, reluctant to pull away from his kiss. “It’s comfortable.”

You didn’t realize that he was walking you backwards until your back met the wall, separated only by Poe’s hands tightly gripping your ass.

You kissed him desperately, trying as hard as you could to show him what you couldn’t say.

And then his hand slid down between your thighs and his middle finger pushed into your dripping cunt.

“Fuck!” You bit down on his clothed shoulder to silence yourself, knowing that there was a good chance someone walking by had heard your exclamation.

“Oh, sweetheart,” he whispered soothingly, pressing a kiss to your temple. “So fucking wet already. You get off on lying to me, huh? You get off on playing with me?”

You whimpered, unsure of how to respond. Your last intention had been to hurt his feelings. But there was something inherently hot about the idea of him forcing those three words out of your mouth.

His free hand slid around your hip and between your thighs, rubbing frantically at your clit while the other hand kept you close and pushed into you with two fingers, slow and deep.

“Come for me, baby. I want you to come on my fingers and tell me you don’t love me.”

He bit and sucked at your neck, pressing you further into the wall, and the overload of sensation shoved you over the edge with force. You bit his shoulder again--hard, but in a different place so you didn’t hurt him too much--as your legs shook and your juices flowed over his palm.

“I can’t,” you gasped as his fingers continued working you. You couldn’t tell if it was a protest to his continued ministrations on your overly sensitive cunt or a protest of what he’d begged you to say. It was a little bit of both, you supposed.

He kissed you as you came down, and you gasped when he pulled away to lick your orgasm off of his fingers.

“You always taste so good,” he muttered, his free hand wrapping around your waist to guide you over to the bed. You pulled your dress over your head before you gracefully fell onto your back and pushed your bag away. Automatically, you spread your legs to accommodate him.

His dark eyes raked over you appreciatively, a boyish smile spreading over his face. “No bra?”

You smiled coyly. “Dress was too low-cut.”

He growled as he scrambled his clothes off, practically pouncing when you reached to remove your underwear.

“Leave it on. You’re gonna wear that for the rest of the day so you think about me every time you cross your legs.”

You pouted a little bit as he started pressing hot kisses all over your torso. “That’s not fair. I soaked through it.”

He smiled wickedly. “I know, sweetheart. You think it’ll get soaked with my come, too?”

You gasped at the idea of wearing his seed for the rest of the day as you watched him pull his boxers off. You didn’t see where he threw them to--you were too busy taking him in. This was the first time he’d fucked you on your back in all of your months together, so the only time you ever got to appreciate him was when you sucked him off.

And stars did he deserve appreciation. He was so thick that it felt like the first time whenever he pushed into you, with texture and veins that you could feel every time he was deep inside of you. The head was your favorite part, though. It was swollen with arousal and it was turning a deep shade of purple. It was hard not to involuntarily open your mouth when you saw him.

Your wanting hand reached for his cock, but he gently took it away as he crawled on top of you. You expected him to pin your wrists above your head--something he had shown his appreciation for a couple of times before--but instead he intertwined his fingers with yours and pressed a sweet kiss to the back of your hand.

That was it.

“I love you.” You would’ve been surprised by your admission, but you knew it was coming. It had been for a long time.

He smiled triumphantly as he tucked your underwear aside and lined himself up with your entrance. “I know.”

He pushed in fast and the stretch was insane but he paused to let you adjust, kissing you deeply and overwhelming you with the lingering taste of your arousal on his tongue.

“Always so fuckin’ tight,” he murmured as he trailed kisses all over your face. “Made for me, though. Fuckin’ love that pussy of yours.”

You gasped and bit down on his shoulder as he started rocking his hips into yours slowly, squeezing the hand he was still holding.

Usually he was rough and fast, trying to make you come as hard as physically possible. Now, though, he took his time. His thrusts were deep and slow--focused. He loved you, and he proved it to you with every inch of his body.

Somehow--you couldn’t explain it--that made you come easier than his frantic rutting and fast circles on your clit ever had.

He moaned long and loud at the feeling of you clenching around him, picking up his pace just a little bit.

“So close, baby. Can I come inside you, sweetheart?”

You nodded, eyes shut tightly from the pleasurable overload of sensation. “Please.”

He came hard, with a beautiful series of groans that almost tipped you over the edge again, and made sure your thong was put back in place so it could soak up all of his come before he collapsed beside you on the mattress.

You had cuddled maybe once before, but Poe was quick to pull you into his arms so your head rested on his chest. You trailed languid kisses over his skin as he stroked your hair.

“What if you waited until I got back to leave?” You mumbled against his chest.

“What if I picked you up after your intel drop?”

You paused thoughtfully. “Okay.”

“Okay,” he hummed.

THE END

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