#firefighter!poe dameron Tumblr posts

[eyelessfaces]

deep crust

firefighter!poe dameron x reader

happy poevember<3 here's this little alternate universe oneshot as a treat! it takes place not too long after the events of ashes to ashes, but you can read this even if you haven't read it (though it's probably more enjoyable if you have the whole context!)

summary: poe is utterly horrified to hear you've never tried a chicago pizza.

warnings: none<3

tags: poe being a drama queen, poe being absolutely whipped, fluff, kissing, just sweet stuff and moments tbh

word count: 1.2k

I gotta admit, my non american ass had heard of chicago style pizza but had never seen what it looked like before writing this so I realized it lowkey looks unappetizing (I'm so sorry chicago people)

heat me up masterlist

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

The topic comes around the first time you officially invite Poe to have dinner at your new apartment. He's properly appalled, his jaw dropping in shock as he lets go of his fork.

“You’ve never had a deep dish?”

You smirk, knowing it would draw this reaction from him – or from anyone you know here, as a matter of fact. You know from experience, and it being so amusing each time kinda participates in the fact you’re refraining yourself from trying those famous Chicago style pizzas.

You give him a shrug of your shoulder, indifferently keeping on chewing on your salad. 

“That’s fine. I’m doing fine living this way” you chuckle. 

“Oh but you’re missing out.” he shakes his head, his hand closing around his glass of wine. “You don’t know it but you’ll realize and you will hate yourself for not trying them sooner.”

He sips on his wine and you scoff, looking at him, at his handsome face bathed in the warm glow of your apartment light. “You’re so dramatic.”

He points a finger at you, a stern expression over his face. “This is a proportionate reaction.”

You huff out from your nose.

He shakes his head in feign disappointment. “I can’t believe I kissed someone’s mouth who’s never had Chicago pizza” he mutters under his breath, a laugh escaping him when you playfully swat him with the back of your hand. 

From there, Poe takes it as his personal mission to get you to try a Chicago pizza.

At first, it’s just a running joke. Every time he sees you, he manages to smoothly slip it into the conversation. 

“I still can’t believe you’ve never had a deep dish,” he’ll sigh, shaking his head in fake dismay as you roll your eyes. Or he will go off on mini monologues, exaggerating the “wonders of Chicago’s pizza crust” – as he calls it, then proceeding to babble out an elaborate description of the layers of cheese and sauce with a genuineness that borders on comical. 

And each time, you brush him off with a laugh, stubbornly sticking to your claim that you’ll get around to it eventually.

But Poe is nothing if not persistent. And the principle of making you try a Chicago pizza is also what would be considered a date with you.

One evening, you receive a text from him, a link revealing “the top ten pizzerias” in Chicago, even though he knows which one is his personal favorite. 

“It’s so you have multiple options to choose from. Whichever seems the most appealing to you” he attaches to the link.

You receive another text not long after. “I’m willing to drop my favorite place but I know the owner and he would be pissed if he learned that the man that put out his kitchen fire went to another pizzeria.”

You can’t help but laugh and text him you will think about it, but he still doesn’t let up, because he has not won until he's leading you arm in arm to a pizzeria. 

Finally, the very next morning, you receive another text from him while he’s on shift at the firehouse. “Even my crew thinks it’s crazy you haven’t had a real Chicago pizza. Don’t let us down here.”

You smile, shaking your head as you type back, “You’re relentless, Lieutenant”

Seconds later, his reply comes. “This is important. History is watching”

Characteristically dramatic. Then, a picture pops up. His face, mouth twisted into a small pout, and a something in his pleading eyes that makes you think he knows exactly what he’s doing because you’re quick to text back,

“Fine. Pick me up on Friday”

—

“I’m gonna show you the best in town” he assures you on Friday, his face lit up with excitement and a hand at your back as you get close to his pizzeria of choice. 

You raise an eyebrow at him. “You know, I have high expectations now” 

“Yeah, maybe I’m overselling it,” he laughs. “But trust me” he grins, pushing the door to the place open. 

Comes the time you’re served and you take your first sample of your awaited first Chicago deep dish experience. Poe has pushed his own plate aside, waiting for the conclusion, the denouement of that whole affair.

“So?” he asks after a while, forearms leaned against the table as he intently awaits your reaction. His teeth sink into his lip, gaze thoroughly focused on every micro expression of your face as you take your time chewing on your first bite.

You lightly clear your throat once you’re done, taking the time to wipe your mouth with a napkin. 

Poe impatiently shifts his position onto his seat, and you take a deep breath for the dramatic effect and impending suspense.

“Don’t get mad,” you start, pinching your lips. He stammers, his expression turning into a remorseful one at the idea you think he would truly be disappointed for you not liking it, his hand reaching for yours over the table. “–I should have listened to you. You weren’t lying” you smirk as you continue, witnessing his face clear up almost instantly, a startled laugh escaping his mouth. 

“You had me in the first half” he admits with a grin, leaning back in his seat. “See? I would never lie to you.”

You glance up at him when you savor your next bite, but he’s not eating – he’s just watching you. There's a soft look of satisfaction and an underlying sweetness in his gaze, and the expression is so open and so unmistakably Poe it makes your stomach flip. 

“You can breathe now,” you tease, lightly nudging his foot under the table. “Come on, eat before it’s cold” 

—

You keep on teasing him when you exit the restaurant, telling him that maybe his reaction was a bit too excessive and dramatic for something that is “just pizza.” Only he’s quick to exaggeratedly counter, telling you that “it’s not just pizza, it’s a life experience”

It’s cold outside as you walk side by side down the street, in a comfortable silence between the both of you. 

Your hands lightly brush and Poe's smoothly slides into yours, taking a glance over at you to make sure it is fine, and without even looking over at him, you squeeze his hand in silent assurance, firmly looking ahead of you as the feeling of his touch makes something flutter inside your chest. 

His hand is warm and his grip is steady against your fingers numb from the cold, and it feels undoubtedly right to be holding his hand.

When you finally reach your building, he pauses, still holding your hand as he faces you, a soft smirk tugging at his lips. 

“Can I kiss you again now that you’ve tried Chicago pizza?”

You laugh wholeheartedly, spontaneously nodding, a wide smile over your face as you lean into him. His lips are soft as they press against yours, his grip on your laced fingers tightening when you rest your other hand at the side of his face. 

“Goodnight,” he says quietly, the feel of him lingering as he pulls back with a soft smile.

“Goodnight, Poe.”

You feel hollow saying this, already missing his presence.

You only let him go after kissing him again.

—

any and every feedback/reblog/comment is greatly appreciated and keeps authors going!!

poe dameron taglist:

@lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift

@whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @spider-starry 

@jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious 

@stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96 @unear7hly 

@pigeonmama @c-losur3

[ofstarsandvibranium]

Firefighter!Poe Dameron and his squad coming to your rescue when your apartment catches on fire and for some reason you’re feeling bold and while he’s watching over you while you get some oxygen back in your lungs you’re like “are you a fire cause you’re taking my breath away.” and it makes him laugh and holy shit he’s so pretty when he laughs/smiles. at the hospital, he visits you and then helps you get a hotel room to stay in while you figure out your living situation. and he keeps coming by to check on you, help you go through your things, give you suggestions on other places to live, just overall being a great guy. he finally asks you out and you say yes and when he picks you up for the date he goes “it’s a good thing I’m a firefighter.” And you go “why?” And he smirks as he says “cause you’re smokin hot.” and you burst out laughing and you two proceed to go on your date and it’s amazing and you two just like each other so much omfg.

[campingwiththecharmings]

Some Like it Hot (2)

AN: HIIIII. Right. So. Part one is here. This...diverted quite a bit from what I had originally intended but, I can't say that I'm too mad about it. 🤭 This has very little to no plot, negl.

(Un-beta’d)

Poe is your muse and you can't help but see the beauty in everything he does.

Rated: M+ (this is smut so, i mean, you’ve been warned?) Words: 1,481 Pairing: Firefighter!Poe Dameron x Photographer!F!Reader Warnings: PWP, smuffy af, p in v, idiots in love, morning sex, please let me know if i missed anything. AO3

——————

You wake gently, the sunlight streaming through the thin curtains, filling the room with its glow. You smile, eyes fluttering as you stretch, allowing yourself to sink into the mattress a little. The sheets rustle beside you as Poe shifts, drawing your gaze. You take a moment to study him, splayed on his belly, your eyes tracing the soft curve of his lips, the sharp cut of his jaw, smooth brow, and stubbled cheeks. He’s a work of art, really. Just…stunning. Every inch of him is perfect, as if he’d been chiseled from a block of marble by the gods themselves. And if that wasn’t enough, he also had a heart of gold. Never in your life have you met someone so kind and caring, so ready and willing to help others. 

You’d started dating almost immediately after your encounter at your studio (quite literally that same evening), and now here you are, months later waking up with him in your bed. Maybe it’s strange but you love watching him sleep, love to watch the light from the windows play over his bare skin, love to study the way his short curls fall across his forehead. The artist in you longs to capture this moment, and you can’t help but give in. Silently, you reach over to the bedside table and grab your phone, quickly swiping the camera app open and pointing it at him. You take a few moments to get the angle just right, then click the shutter button. 

He knows, of course, knows your gallery is full of photos of him (and occasionally, him and you). That’s not to say that he really gets it though, how inspired you are by him. As far as he’s concerned, he’s just a regular guy. He’s supportive though, indulging your fascination.

Unable to help yourself, you roll toward him, leaning in to press a soft kiss against his lips. He stirs almost immediately, his full lashes fluttering as he opens his warm, brown eyes. You smile at him, pushing your fingers through his mussed curls.

“Morning,” you greet, your voice soft as you rouse him from sleep.

He returns your smile, eyelids heavy as he shifts and rolls onto his side to face you.

“Morning,” he says, his voice rough with sleep. 

His eyes drop to the phone still in your hand and his lips quirk in amusement. “Taking creeper shots of me again?”

You chuckle at his teasing, your cheeks warming. “Guilty.”

He grunts, reaching over and plucking the device from your grasp. “My turn.”

“No, stop,” you laugh, covering your face with your hands. “I haven’t even washed my face yet, come on.”

He tsks, grabbing your hands and playfully pushing them away. “You got me, only fair that I get you.”

You groan theatrically, pouting at him as he sits up and quickly your phone into position. “Yeah but, I’m not you.”

He snorts, the click of your shutter reaching your ears. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

Suddenly, you lunge, kicking the blankets away to free your legs and arms. He chuckles, moving the phone out of your reach. 

“Not all of us are as photogenic as you, Poe, just—give it back.”

He rolls onto his back laughing, your phone still clutched in his hand. “A photographer who doesn’t like getting their picture taken. Aren’t you a cliche?”

You growl, crawling over and up his torso, arm outstretched as you reach again for your phone.  “Shut up.”

His laughter becomes muffled as your chest presses against his face, the vibration sending a tiny shiver down your spine. You rise up slightly on your knees, the hand not reaching for your phone braced on his muscled shoulder. His free hand comes to rest on your lower back, steadying you as you reach. 

When you finally manage to take your phone back, he doesn't put up much of a fight, instead taking the opportunity to pull you even closer with his other hand. He nuzzles your breasts through your t-shirt, your breath hitching when his nose bumps against your nipple.

“You had ulterior motives, I see,” you breathe, the fingers of your free hand tangling in his hair as his hands slip down and underneath your shirt.

He chuckles, moving his face back from your chest as he pulls your shirt up and over your head. His hands slide up to your shoulders once you’re bared to him, his eyes meeting yours as he leans in to take your nipple in his mouth. Your lips part in a gasp, your fingers tightening in his curls, and he groans at the slight sting of his scalp. The vibration makes your hips jolt against him, your body instinctively seeking friction as desire quickly wells inside you.

You sigh his name as he releases your nipple, mouthing his way over to your other breast to lavish the same attention. 

“So beautiful,” he mumbles, flicking the tip of his tongue against the pebbled flesh before sucking it into the molten heat of his mouth.

Your head falls back with a moan, your phone slipping from between your fingers and landing on the plush comforter of your bed. Poe’s hands slide down to your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he encourages you to keep grinding against him. You can feel the hardness of his cock even through the thick fabric of his pajama pants, your need for him growing. He groans as you move, pulling back from your chest, the absence of his mouth dragging your gaze back to his. You swallow hard, the combination of lust and awe in his eyes making goosebumps rise on your skin.

He pulls your mouth back to his then, licking into it languidly, as if he has all the time in the world. You melt into him, your bare chests pressing together as you wind your arms around his neck. You let yourself get lost in his kiss, in the soft, wet slide of his lips as they brush against yours. It feels like you’re drowning, drowning in a sea of bliss, a sea where Poe is your only lifeline.

Poe slips his fingers beneath the edge of your panties, his thumb briefly circling your clit as he slips the others lower. He works you open gently, your cries of pleasure muffled by his lips and tongue. He brings you to your peak quickly, drawing out your pleasure with each pump and flick of his fingers.

You share a moan when you finally sink down onto his length, your slick heat welcoming him, engulfing him. He pulls your mouth back to his as you begin to ride him, your body rising and falling shallowly at first. His hand on your hip helps to steady you as you gradually increase your pace, your hands braced on his shoulders. 

“Poe,” you whine, throwing your head back as you chase the pleasure racing through you. “Feels so good—fuck, so good.”

He groans as he watches you, his eyes almost black with desire. “You feel like a dream, sweetheart. So beautiful like this.”

A shiver races through you at his words, at his attention. He’s always like this, so present, making you feel so desired, like there’s no one else he’s ever wanted so badly as you. He pulls you close, pressing his forehead against yours as you race toward your release, groaning as you move and clench around him. You moan when his thumb finds your clit, his touch bringing you even closer to the edge.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he breathes, pushing his hips up from the bed every time you sink down onto him again. “Take what you need.”

A few more thrusts and you’re there, body going taught, mouth slack, as you sail over the edge. His moan is broken as you fall apart around him, your body squeezing him, trying to take him with you. He spills himself deep inside you with a groan moments later, his hips stuttering with the force of his release. 

You stay like that for a while, just wrapped around each other, his softening cock still sheathed inside you.  It’s comforting, having him this close, feeling this connected to him. Poe strokes your back soothingly, leaning in to press a soft kiss against the corner of your mouth. You smile, winding your arms around his neck and pulling him into a hug. He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, his warm breath fanning across your skin as he melts into you.

“You working today?” you ask, reaching up to run your fingers through his hair.

He makes a noise, then shakes his head. “Nope. I’m all yours today, baby.”

You chuckle, eyelashes fluttering as he presses a hot kiss against the side of your neck. “Mmm, don’t threaten me with a good time.”

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

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[girl-next-door-writes]

Every Time You Walk By

Characters: Poe Dameron x reader

Summary: Poe has developed feelings for his best friend, but with a war to fight, will he ever get around to telling them?

Word Count: 1219 words

Prompt: Best Friends, Gentle Kiss, Shared Clothing, Holding Hands When Stressed.

A/N: This is the last of my celebration fics and it is for the lovely and wonderful @minigirl87 . Thank you to everyone who threw something at me, and I am sorry some of these took me so long!

Things used to be straightforward, and that was the way Poe liked it. He had a war to win, a galaxy to save, that was just his life. It fell into a rhythm of sorts, a simple melody in the symphonic masterpiece that was the galaxy, like an oboe making the overall opus richer, adding depth. That was the way he liked it, his life was full, he didn’t need any distractions, so why did his stupid brain keep returning to you?

Poe trusted you with his life, he’d had to, and your friendship meant a lot to him, but that was all this was, friendship. If he told himself that often enough, then maybe he could fool himself into believing it. Something had changed for him, and although he couldn’t pinpoint when that had started, he knew the exact moment he had realised.

Returning from a mission, one which had got a little dicey for a while there, he had climbed out of his ship and seen you running across the hanger. Your hair was a beautiful mess, his jacket wrapped around you over your combat gear. It could have been a trick of the light, but for just a moment, he could have sworn you glowed as you smiled at him. Your hug had knocked the air from his lungs, and it took a second before his brain caught up to what was going on and he returned your embrace. That was the moment, as he rested his head against yours, eyes closed, that he mentally uttered an expletive. That was the moment he knew he was in love with his best friend, and it was utterly hopeless.

Poe had continued with life, ignoring this nagging feeling, this desire to always be by your side. He was a little clingier, not that he would admit it. BB8 seemed to spend more time around you, and that had absolutely nothing to do with Poe asking the little droid to keep an eye out for you, it definitely did not provide him with an excuse to seek you out more often either. The war was the focus. He had to keep his head in the game.

The command room was silent, except from the broken, tinny voice emitting from the comms. It was supposed to have been a simple mission, just a small squadron on recon, but the firefight that had ensued was devastating. It had been an ambush; they’d had no chance.

Mackenzie’s voice narrated the action, panic evident despite him trying his best to hide it. Poe hung his head. It should have been him. He should have insisted they waited until he’d returned from Yavin 4. Logically, he knew that he couldn’t go on every mission, but right now, standing there with his fists clenched, he felt so helpless.

“Green 4 has been hit. Collins is down.”

A single tear of frustration and loss escaped from his right eye, and he hurriedly swiped it away with the back of his hand.

“They are right on my tail. There’s eight of them. I don’t think I can shake them.”

Poe felt a warm hand take his and he looked up in surprise. His eyes met yours and he could see the pain and sadness there he knew was reflected in his own. Some of the tension left his body, and he found his fingers interlacing with yours. The two of you stood, side by side, in silence as the inevitable outcome of the ambush played out over the comms.

As the line went to static, Poe felt the usual weight of guilt hit him. What he hadn’t expected was for you to squeeze his hand, a silent gesture that seemed to say it wasn’t his fault. His thumb tentatively ran over yours in reply, his way of telling you that he knew. No words were needed, and he wondered if this was because you were best friends or if it was his deeper feelings for you. The comfort he sensed at your touch suddenly felt selfish, and he pulled his hand away. The Resistance had just lost some good people, he could not allow himself the luxury of letting the world go a little fuzzy around the edges.

He tried to avoid you, he really did, but his feet seemed to have other ideas. His entire body longed to be close to you, even if it was simply sitting in the same room for a little while. There was just something about you that made things better. Every time you walked by, it was like he’d drank a shot of pure caff, and if you smiled..! Oh, maker, if you smiled at him, he felt invincible. True, there had been times when you smiled and he’d ended up tripping over something or walking into a doorway, but even those incidents couldn’t dampen the feeling of walking on air.

Rather than admit his feelings for you, he threw himself into his work. The sooner the war was over, the sooner he could focus on other things, right? And so, Commander Dameron burned the candle at both ends, accepting any and every assignment, often taking back-to-back missions.

It was late one night as he stumbled out of his ship, exhausted and aching, when he felt you beside him. Without a word, you slipped your hand around his waist and took some of his weight.

“You’re dead on your feet, Poe. Please tell me you aren’t planning to fly again before you’ve had some real rest.” The soft chastising tone of your voice made the corners of his lips quirk up a little. He knew you cared, knew you worried, but hearing it always made his heart jump.

“I’m gonna rest, sweetheart. You don’t need to worry about me.”

“Well, someone clearly has to, because you’re not. Come on, let’s get you to bed.”

“Now that’s an offer.” He chuckled, not realising his inner monologue had escaped his lips.

“If that’s what it takes to get you to rest then I’ll come and tuck you in every night.”

Poe was too sleepy to respond, but his mind took that mental image and ran with it. A sleepy, goofy smile appeared on his face as he imagined falling asleep next to you every night.

It wasn’t too long before you got him to his quarters. Once inside, you’d made him lay down as you removed his boots. As soon as his back had hit the mattress, his body had begun to relax, allowing the exhaustion to take him. In that haze between consciousness and sleep, he felt you pull the thin blanket over him, tucking him in as promised. Poe couldn’t be certain, but he thought he felt your fingers brush his hair back from his face, and then the warmth of your breath fan over his skin. A soft warmth pressed to his forehead, had you just kissed him?

“Goodnight, Poe.”

He wanted to trace his fingers over the spot he was half certain you had gently kissed, but his body would no longer co-operate. Instead, he let out a contented sigh, his fingers twitching by his side. Maybe tomorrow he would return the sign of affection, perhaps even tell you how much you meant to him, but for now…

[virtie333]

Day 5 - Life Day Damerey Celebration

Prompt: Holiday

Summary: A new relationship is tested.

Warnings: This is a Modern Alternate Universe story. There will be more incoming. Fluff and feelings in this one.

AO3

“What do you mean you can’t come because you’re working?” he asked her. “It’s Christmas Eve! No one should have to work a holiday.”

Rey had just started dating Poe Dameron two short months ago. They had met thanks to their mutual friend, Finn, and while things had been going well in their relationship so far, and Rey was exceedingly happy to have finally found someone who actually seemed to ‘get her,’ she knew there would be bumps in the road. Apparently, this was the first one.

“I agree no one should work on holidays when you’re talking about retail or service industries, but some jobs are necessary all the time,” Rey argued. She hated that this conversation was happening over the phone. She would really like to see his expressive face right now, to know what he was thinking.

“Well, of course!” Poe countered. “Hospitals and cops and firefighters and such,” he continued. “They are needed and are hopefully getting extra pay for their service.” He paused. “But Rey, you work for a bank. Why are you working Christmas Eve?”

Rey smiled. There was a bit of a whine in his voice. “I’m not working my regular job,” she told him. “I’m volunteering at the local animal shelter.”

The other end of the line was silent, so after a moment, Rey continued.

“I’m volunteering to feed and clean that night so that the regular staff and other volunteers can have the night off to be with their families. I’ve always done it over holidays since I don’t have family of my own. I had already signed up to do it this year before we started dating and I didn’t bother changing it because I didn’t know if you even celebrated Christmas or not.”

“Well, yeah,” Poe answered her non-question. “Dad and I have always had a traditional Christmas Eve. Dinner followed by presents.” He sighed. “I was really getting excited about the thought of you joining us. I think he was, too.”

“I’m sorry, Poe,” Rey said, and she truly was. “I should be done by eight, if you guys want to do it a little later than normal?” She paused. “Or you could come with me and we could get done sooner..?”

“I… I wouldn’t know what to do. I’d just be in your way.” He sounded surprised but not upset. And he hadn’t said ‘no.’

“It’s not that difficult. I’ve done it so much I could do it in my sleep. It would be easy to direct you.” She bit her lip before adding, “and I know you’d love to love on all those dogs and cats.”

He huffed a laugh. One of the things that had helped them bond was their shared love of animals. Poe’s dog BB had solidified that bond by attaching himself to Rey more than any other woman Poe had dated. Or so he said. “Are you sure?” he asked, his voice still uncertain.

“Poe, I would love to spend Christmas Eve with you, even if it means cleaning cat litter boxes and scooping dog poop.”

His responding laughter made her smile. Oh, how she loved to hear him laugh!

“Okay,” he finally said. “I’ll do it. I’ll just let Dad know we’ll be a little later than normal.”

Rey’s heart thumped hard a couple of times in her chest. She was more sure than ever that she was falling in love with this man. “Thank you, Poe,” she said softly. “For inviting me to be a part of your traditions and for your help.”

“Thank you, Rey,” he responded. “For letting me be a part of your holiday traditions, too.”

This just might be the best Christmas ever.

[galacticwildfire]

Fire Meet Gasoline | Poe Dameron

One

Poe Dameron x Solo Original Character

Hope Solo’s haunted by the night the temple burned. Having gone rogue she hunts the First Order in search of answers until a fateful encounter with Poe Dameron brings her back to the Resistance and Leia puts her daughter under his command to find Luke Skywalker.

Word count: 8.3k

Tags/warnings: hondo ohnaka reminiscing the clone wars, boba fett, r2 being sick of skywalker bs, mentions of war crimes/torture, ptsd, descriptions of injury, typical skywalker bs over ranks, absent father/angry daughter, meet cute, flirting, ego's, simp poe, exhausted leia

A/N: hey guys first chapter is finally up after I swore to rewrite this in march and the prequel will be up in it's entirety very soon as well. First half of the chapter spends some time setting up the story before Poe comes in. I promise Han and Luke aren't as bad they are through her eyes, Leia pov next chapter will give context. Also all my stories are written for adults with adult themes, I use appropriate tags but read at your discretion.

Prologue

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~

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32 ABY | Two Years Before A Force Awakens

Hope

It was meant to be a simple run, picking up the package from the contact and ensuring its safe passage. Whenever Hondo Ohnaka tells me it's an easy job that I'd handle with no problem I know to expect some sort of trouble in the form of a skirmish or firefight, but I didn't expect that skirmish to be with tie-fighters.

I'm used to taking them out, but I prefer being the one ambushing them instead of the other way around.

"Solo, you're alive!" Hondo laughs anxiously at the look on my face as I walk into his outpost on Batuu and slam the box down on the table. "Careful now, that's fragile!"

"What the hell did you send me to get that the First Order would want?" I ask him and he curses as he downs the rest of his drink. "Hondo, I swear-"

"Those bastards have finally done it!" he declares to no one in particular. "I knew it was only a matter of time before they targeted my business, just like the Empire did. One empire falls and another-"

I don't wait for him to finish his dramatics before I pull open the box but freeze when I see what's inside. "We already raided Grakkus the Hutt's vault, where did you find this?"

"Maz Kanata," he answers and raises his hands in his defence at how I gape at him. "Like myself she feels a certain sense of nostalgia when it comes to Jedi relics and well, it just so happens I had one of my men infiltrate her castle to steal one."

"Maz Kanata is a friend," I remind him but he doesn't seem awfully phased.

"Which is why I did not tell you what you were getting or who it was stolen from," he tries to reason as I hold the kyber crystal in my hand, a real kyber crystal. It's cracked and faded from the years, no use to me but it would still be priceless. "Well, it's not as impressive as I was hoping for, but I don't suppose you can use your Jedi magic to make it look pretty again for me?"

"No," I answer curtly, there still being one question I need the answer to. "How did the First Order just happen to know I'd be transporting a kyber crystal when I didn't even know what I was carrying?"

"They didn't," he answers and now I'm the one cursing as I realise what's happened, that they weren't targeting the shipment, but me. "It is not profitable for the First Order's tie-fighters to be repeatedly destroyed by one rogue Jedi in a starfighter, embarrassing for their reputation, so I'll let you put that one together."

"Shit," I whisper, knowing if the First Order's profiled me then the Resistance is only going to be one step behind them in figuring out who's been tormenting First Order patrols in the Outer Rims. 

Which means Mom will know exactly what I've been doing out here.

"I still do not understand, you want to kill the bastards but left the only organisation willing to do it," Hondo says, a pirate but still a jedi and rebel sympathiser at heart, and like all supposedly legitimate former criminals running illegal operations, he's worried they're going to put his business at risk. 

"Because if I shoot first I break the Galactic Concordance and every other damn treaty they've signed which puts the Resistance in trouble with the senate and risks declaring open war," I answer, frustration still thick in my voice after all this time. "Which I did and got permanently grounded to avoid starting said war, but thankfully it made me realise it's no fun fighting a cold war when I can be out here taking the fight straight to them without consequences, and the last thing I need is to be held back."

But I didn't just fire first, I wiped out one of their elite ground squadrons to try to find out where Ben is on what was meant to be reconaissance, to ask their captain where Snoke has my brother stationed. Except I didn't just ask and he had a nice little electric shocker in his pocket to stop me from finishing my interrogation. When Mom heard about the mess I'd left I wasn't just demoted from captain, but forbidden from partaking in any off base missions at the insistence of every single member of high command pending complete expulsion. 

And so I left. Almost a year later I still haven't showed my face.

"Haha, you do come from that Skywalker boy, he liked committing war crimes too," Hondo laughs and my eyes roll back in my head, preparing to hear for the tenth time how he once fought the man who became Darth Vader and lived to tell the tale since the galaxy now knows that unfortunate truth. "Good with a lightsaber, although I cannot forgive him for killing my good friend Kenobi and you know, all the rest. But once I acquire the right weapon we must duel for old times sake."

I never thought a pirate could so intimately know two utterly separate generations of my family through swindling them but there always seems to be surprises. "So you can get your ass handed to you again?"

"He liked to insult me as well, although not as well as Kenobi," he remembers fondly and I'd be lying if I said I hadn't found his stories of working with and against Anakin and Obi-Wan interesting, to hear what my grandfather was like from one of the few people still alive who knew him during the Clone Wars. "So did your father, I'll never forget when I tried to steal the Falcon from him, I'm still mad someone else beat me to it."

My spirits sour at the mention of him and I pour myself a drink from the bottle on the table only to grow more bitter at the taste of the Corellian whiskey, then quickly put it down remembering another story Hondo once told me. "Well I fully intend to steal it back and if my father wants it he can come and find me."

Somehow that wound is more raw than anything that happened the night the temple burned despite the permanent scars it left me with. A father packing up and leaving because he couldn't look at my mother without seeing Ben, and he couldn't look at me for reasons I still don't understand. I'm sure he only stayed as long as he did because Chewie refused to leave me behind, until eventually Dad didn't care anymore and left both of us. 

"A lasar sword wielding maniac with the knack for piracy is a formidable opponent," he acknowledges and informs me. "From what I hear he is keeping low, owes money to the worst of the worst, people not even I, Hondo Ohnaka, would double cross and that is saying something. But I have no doubt he would be very proud his daughter is giving him a run for his credits and has certainly made a profitable investment."

The thought he'd be proud of what I'm doing is the opposite of what I want, but the rest is hardly news. "What can I say? I'm the best pilot there is."

I'm not quite sure how I ended up as an investment for some of the most established underworld figures there are. It began with me looking in all the wrong places for Dad and instead finding old friends and foes of his who were quite curious to see what I could do for them. Being nineteen with no credits, my weapons, and a ship in desperate need of maintenance, I was happy enough to oblige them. 

Perhaps I hoped working for the very people who'd betrayed Dad time and time again would be enough he'd track me down out of anger to smack some sense into me like he should have done to Ben, but no. He's a ghost like the rest of the men in my family. 

Still, in this unexpected change of career path I've learned a thing or two about profit and have turned my transport, my dear Shiraya, into an armoured starship that could almost be called luxurious, along with my more recently acquired and heavily modified Naboo Starfighter that I make use of for the contracts Boba Fett provides me to hunt down the First Order patrols trying to interfere in his operations.

"Speaking of which," Hondo continues to try to distract from the payment he owes for the delivery. "Boba has a contract for you."

Now those are always good words. 

"But first," I say and look at the kyber crystal knowing it could go for half a million credits even in this state since genuine kyber is so rare, especially since this one appears to have been used in a saber at some point, no doubt dismantled for parts long ago. "I want half of the profits."

"Oh no, you merely transported the goods," he says and negotiates. "Ten percent."

I hold his eye carefully. "Thirty."

"Fifteen and don't you try those Jedi mind tricks on me," he says and I just smile to myself. "Fifteen percent which you will receive once I find a buyer."

"Twenty five and I'll be coming for my credits," I promise him as go to head out the door to where R2 awaits. My faithful companion since I was twelve years old, my best friend, my only friend, although always eager to get off this planet since he has a longstanding grudge against Hondo for numerous Clone Wars era offences. 

But he won't exactly like where we're going next either.

"Come on R2, to Tatooine it is."

~

The evidence of the recent Boonta Eve celebrations are still evident from the bottles on the streets and firework shells scattered across the sand. People are still settling their debts from the races as a New Republic news channel plays from one of the holoprojectors in the square and I hear the Resistance mentioned fleetingly in arguments over funding for the ever decreasing Republic navy. A reminder that I've never been gone from base this long. 

For Mom's sake I held it together and threw myself into forming the Resistance with her after the temple burned, but when Dad disappeared without a word that was when I began to finally lose it. Mom and I had our fights to the point we became notorious for them. I'd run off for a week or two and stay with Lando, but eventually I'd always go home. 

Until now.

But after what I did she was horrified. One mention of my brother's name from the First Order captain, or rather his new name, and I snapped and learned just what a lightsaber is capable of doing to a lifeform. Even if he was the one who took his own life they still blamed me for his death since they knew the First Order certainly would and feared retaliation. I'd previously engaged the enemy and disobeyed orders countless times, I was known for insubordination and worked alone in the field since we didn't even have enough pilots for an active squadron, so when they told me I couldn't step foot in my x-wing after what I'd done I was shocked. I shouldn't have been, I'd pushed command to the brink too many times to count, but the torture of an unarmed evil man had them debating if I should be removed from the Resistance entirely. 

And so I made the decision before they could and took off. 

But not alone, never alone as long as I have R2 with me, even if he has been difficult this past year. R2 complains the whole way to the palace, while he's loyal to a fault he has made it clear he does not agree with my choice of lifestyle. Even if I'm walking around with more credits than Dad ever did while he's in debt to the worst of the worst. 

I hope that wherever he is he knows it too, that he abandoned his daughter to go back to the only thing he was ever good at, only for me to put him to shame.

I'm a recognisable enough figure by now as I walk through Mos Espa, the place Anakin Skywalker was found by the Jedi Order, a place I've now come to frequent having long ago deterred anyone trying to collect Dad's debts from me from trying that again, and being under the Daimyo's protection gives me privileges.

Perhaps Boba Fett thought it would be ironic to have Vader's grandaughter being the one serving him, or maybe he found humour in Han Solo's daughter being on his payroll, either way it's been profitable for both of us. He's getting old to say the least and muscle is a needed supply in these parts. Jedi have been myth for decades and the sight of Vader's own blood with a lightsaber is enough to deter most trouble, the rest I deal with.

"Solo," Boba says as I enter the palace that once belonged to Jabba the Hutt, my visions have showed me well enough what transpired here when Mom was his slave along with other unfortunate visions of my family's history here on Tatooine. Psychometry, to this day I still can't decide if it's a gift or a curse. "I have a contract."

"Hondo told me," I say and eagerly ask "First Order?"

"They've been patrolling well beyond the border regions and now they've turned their attention to my sector," he informs me. "I had one of my men string up a First Order spy we found in the city but we know there's more and I have it on good authority there's a squadron or perhaps more of tie fighters patrolling the system."

"I'll take them out," I say immediately and he gives an approving nod but stops me before I can leave. 

"You know Solo, it's past time you accepted the offer of membership to the guild," he says, and while the offer certainly flatters me I know the consequences of formally making myself a scoundrel for hire. "You can start making real coin then."

Except it's far more complicated than that when I still have legal duties. Mom did not pass down her responsibilities as Princess of Alderaan to me on a whim, she did it out of necessity. When the truth about her real father was exposed she was ruined, the senate and her allies had turned on her, so with full faith she stood there and transferred whatever powers that title still gave her to me. They could force her resignation and silence her voice, but not mine. 

"A princess joining a bounty hunting guild isn't good press for the Resistance," I say, knowing the moment my name is processed in the guild's database that information would be sent straight to the New Republic which would very much complicate any business I might have to conduct in the senate. Even if I've left the Resistance I cannot betray Mom's trust in me when it comes to those responsibilities. "Besides, its loyalties are too loose for my liking. The same as most of the people out here who keep trying to exploit me into paying off Han Solo's debts to them."

It's a miracle Boba Fett doesn't do business with the Empire's successor considering his loyalties were always famously for hire, but from the stories I've heard and those he's told me he has personal reasons to detest the Imperial remnants that the First Order came from, having made himself an enemy of them long ago. It's only because of the stories he's told I know there is one other survivor like me out there, although from a different destruction of a different temple many years before my own. 

Mom would be disappointed in my current career to say the least, but I only ever take work from those who were friends of the Jedi or the Rebellion, even if they didn't necessarily begin that way. Boba is as far as that line blurs, but considering he turned on those remnants to help save a Jedi youngling that's good enough for me.

"I would advise you to remember princess that it's the people out here who were the lifeblood that kept the Rebellion running, especially in its early days," he lectures. "They were the ones who smuggled weapons and all the rest to their bases without the Empire intercepting it, without them the rebellion would have been over as soon as it began. Even the Jedi in the Clone Wars did business with our kind, your grandfather included as Hondo's no doubt told you. Like him I'd met your grandfather long before he became Vader when I was just a child, he was much like you are now and just as self righteous. The biggest difference between Anakin Skywalker and Vader was that at least Vader kept his mouth shut when he didn't need to open it, a lesson you could learn."

"I was trained to be a politician before I was ever trained to be a Jedi so that's not gonna work," I retort and he shakes his head. "And there's a very big difference between smuggling weapons for a rebellion and smuggling people for traffickers."

He doesn't like that response but somewhere a line has to be drawn. "Your mother might be high and mighty about working with us low lives despite marrying one, but I would have thought you'd be smarter than that."

"I'm smart enough to know the moment the senate learns we do any business with smugglers and crime lords they cut all funding and support," I challenge, still politically adept from my upbringing and time served in the senate. "We can't afford to make more enemies than we already have."

"We?" he repeats and I lower my eyes. "I thought you said you weren't part of the Resistance, that you were too efficient for their liking, which you are. You've got a ruthless streak that would make you a damn good bounty hunter, or a mercenary for hire if that's more your style, but you're too afraid of what your mother would think to fulfil that potential, or maybe you just don't have the backbone I thought you did."

His words are true which is why they sting, except for the part about having a backbone. My first instinct is to lash out in defence but I bite my tongue, remembering who it is I'm standing in front of. I'm certainly not afraid of him but he's one of the few people in the Outer Rim's I'm willing to work for considering he's the only one willing to pay me to go after the First Order. And maybe I've found a certain wisdom in Boba Fett considering the enemy I face. The rest of the Resistance worries about stormtroopers and tie-fighters, but I know there's a different enemy only I can face and what better way to learn to kill the Knights of Ren and Snoke than from a man who is more than experienced in hunting and killing those trained in the force.

Mom would be horrified, but I know they're out there and I know I'm the only one who can destroy them since Luke's run away, which means I need preparation that she can't give me while she chases a ghost.

"You forget my focus isn't on credits, but on killing as many of those bastards as I can until I get close enough to their leader to strike him down," I say and nod my head in respect to the Daimyo. "And that's what I'm going to do."

But before I can leave he warns me "I bet Vader thought he'd do the same, but he didn't have a backbone either."

Something in me goes cold, but if there's anyone who has the grounds to challenge me on Vader it's his right hand man. "In the end he did. He killed Palpatine."

"When they were all but defeated above Endor," he says and I try to keep my face neutral, having never thought the day would come when I'd ever defend anything Vader did but things change. "Anakin Skywalker was known as the hero without fear and yet he became a slave, from what I hear for the second time in his life. Even if he did kill him in the end he was still a slave to his master. I wonder if Kylo Ren thinks he's going to do the same," he challenges and my face falls, my throat tightening at the very mention of his name. "So it is true then."

My hand tremors slightly and I'm at a loss for how he could have that information, managing only one word. "How?"

"Vader's grandson conveniently dies just like Skywalker did during Order 66 and now a new Vader pops up as the First Order's enforcer," he says and tilts his helmeted head. "Educated guess. You know what they say, history repeats."

My body may be cold but I can feel something burning in me at those words, remembering it all, everything up until the moment lightning hit the temple. Seeing his eyes turn yellow as he raged with his saber drawn, screaming that Luke was dead and that he'd betrayed us. 

Luke was his master and mine before Ben had taken me as his apprentice despite Luke's disapproval. I'd asked Ben to not hold me back and he did just that, something Luke never did. He was my brother, my teacher, and I tried to walk away from him and my training to form the Resistance. That was my final mistake that sealed what would happen that night.

And so my voice shakes as I insist. "He's no Vader."

"Someone should tell him that then," he remarks and leans back on his throne. "Because from what I hear he's earned himself quite the reputation, black mask and all."

I feel sick and without another word leave the palace with a purpose, knowing every tie fighter I take down is one less between me and killing their Supreme Leader. I thought I could never feel more horrified than the night the temple burned, concussed and choking on ash with lightsaber burns to my arm and thigh, only one of which I actually recall receiving, but when we discovered that Snoke, the creature that had seduced Ben to the darkness, was the mysterious leader of the First Order I watched Mom fall to her knees. 

Whatever Mom believes happened that night, whether I'm lying about not remembering or have suppressed it, I truly don't remember what happened after lightning struck the temple, there's only flashes of screams and pain. Once we felt Ben turn we let everyone believe he died in the fire, no one would dare ask a grieving mother to account for a missing son.

From the start I knew I was searching in vain, for an uncle, a father, a brother. All ghosts. Luke can stay hiding in exile for all I care, but for so long I thought I could bring Ben back so Mom wouldn't have to suffer the loss of a son as well as a husband and a brother. So I wouldn't have to suffer the loss of a brother as well as a father. My idiot brother who became so delusional when he discovered who the man he worshipped, Anakin Skywalker, truly was. As at odds as we were, he was the he only other person in the galaxy who knew was it was like to be the heir of Skywalker, of Vader. To be vilified for sharing blood with a man we never knew, for being able to wield a power so many distrust. Now I'm alone in that. 

For so long I tried so hard to do what she asked of me, but whenever I would step foot on Hosnian Prime to petition the senate for funding I would hear the whispers, the speculation. When a temple full of children burns to the ground and Luke Skywalker disappears people want answers, answers I couldn't give. Answers I can't give. 

But when I'm the only survivor people look to put the blame somewhere.

It's only fitting in their eyes that it's on the blood of the Jedi Killer himself.

R2 beeps at me as we scout the system, I thought by now he'd give up trying to get me to go home but he hasn't. I thought when I left Mom I'd no longer have to look at someone who's afraid I'll turn into Vader, or my brother, but R2 has seen too much to not be afraid I'll fall as well. Except much to my sorrow I can hardly fault him for it knowing what he's seen.

"How about after this we go to Naboo for a little while?" I propose to him, it's only a stone's throw from Tatooine and where I've resided in my free time. With the Lakehouse all but forgotten during the Empire's reign I've found refuge there, having put most of my spare credits into restoring it since it fell into ruin. The Naberrie family had said it was meant to be where Padmé raised her children, and that all that was left to her she would want to be passed onto me and I do what I can to preserve her memory. For a long time Naboo was my home almost as much as it was her's, and R2 likes that idea, Naboo having been his home once as well.

The N-1's controls are engrained into my memory from my training and education there, having been the youngest starpilot to ever fly as part of their starfighter corps at the mere age of twelve. I'd grown up in N-1's as much as the Falcon, although I had become quite fond of my x-wing that no doubt still resides on D'Qar, that better still be there and waiting for me, even if it never saw as much action as I wish it had.

I like to think Dad would be proud of me if I could tell him that by the age of twenty I'd become a quadruple ace, even if those kills were achieved with contracts like these instead of with the Resistance. Perhaps he'd be horrified instead despite being the first one to put me behind laser cannons in the field. Any reaction would be acceptable if it meant I could just see him, but now I'm seeing another target.

"Here we go R2, you see them?" I say, eyeing a group of tie's coming out from behind one of the moons. "This is where the fun begins."

Even if he pretends to be worried for the sake of my self preservation, an override of his loyalty programming installed by Luke to keep me from getting myself killed, I know he loves this almost as much as I do. When a droid's been in action for nearly seventy years he tends to become more independent than his programming and I know he's missed being shot at even if he'd disagree. 

"It's just target practice R2," I tell him as I prepare to ambush, taking a moment to see if the First Order's bothered to make any modifications to their tie's with the amount I've been taking out, having collected data from the wreckages, but it seems they're happy to keep sending them out as cannon fodder. "Let's see, take them out in the open or herd them into that asteroid belt?"

He agrees with the asteroid belt, and so do I. Tie's aren't as nimble as a Naboo starfighter.

"I count eight, should be easy pickings," I say and prepare to attack. "Let's get em."

I debate strategy as I come up behind them to ambush, my instincts tell me now might not be the time to play around and I have the nagging feeling there's more where these eight have come from and so instead of taking my time I fire the proton torpedo I've been itching to use right into the centre of their formation. The shot takes out the tie's in the centre with the exception of the flanking ships that scatter at the blast and sure enough another formation comes up behind me from one of the moons.

This just got slightly more dangerous now that they're the ones trying to push me into the asteroid belt, but only slightly. "Easy R2, follow my lead and prepare for a L'ulo stand."

After taking out the flanking ships I cut the engine's thrusters and pull up hard a fraction of a second later in the same manoeuvre that L'ulo taught me when he joined the Resistance, a manoeuvre he taught me could only be done in atmosphere, space is a little trickier to pull it off in but manageable with counter thrusters. The nose of my ship slams upwards to slow the acceleration of my fighter so the tie's behind me overshoot, counting ten in total that head straight past me for the asteroid belt, finding myself surprised by the amount they have to spare, but at least the amount I'll get paid will more than cover the cost to replace the torpedo.

Now to scatter them and pick them off.

"Alright R2, fire up those thrusters for me," I say and a second later they come back roaring as I roll the N-1 before slamming the nose down again and shoot forward to herd the second formation into the asteroid belt, grinning as I follow after the scattering ties, manoeuvering the belt with ease and by the time I exit the tie's are either destroyed by my laser canons or their own shitty piloting. The First Order clearly have pilots to spare but not instructors. 

But in the heat of the moment I failed to notice the x-wing that had followed me through the belt and my heart stops at the realisation I didn't see it, a mistake that could have me dead if it was a First Order ship.

"The hell?" I whisper at the sight once I recover from the momentary shock. "The Republic shouldn't be out here..." It's then I take in the model of the x-wing and realise it's a T-70. It's a Resistance X-Wing. "Fuck." R2 beeps at me and I remind him "Who taught me to curse R2? I'd settle somewhere between you and Mom and if she's sent a fighter after me... no- no, she has no idea where I am."

At least I hope not.

A transmission comes through the radio as R2 begins to lecture me, a man's voice interrupting him. "Naboo starfighter identify yourself."

R2 feels the need to point out it's the Resistance, not so kindly suggesting we should follow them home. I never knew a droids patience could wear thin but R2 may just be getting too old to deal with Skywalker bullshit. 

"Yes R2 I'm aware it's a Resistance x-wing," I say before answering the transmission and replying to the pilot. "No, I don't think I will."

He doesn't seem to like that answer, but plays along. "Before you get cocky are you aware you were just ambushed by a squadron of tie-fighters belonging to the First Order and that I came to assist?"

He hasn't identified himself which means he's impersonating a New Republic officer by ordering me to identify myself, most pilots wouldn't pick up on the difference between x-wing models, but I know better. 

"I was the one ambushing them," I grin, a little smug I'd taken them out before he could even get a shot, finding his voice unfamiliar which means he's a new pilot who wouldn't know mine. "I'd thank you for your assistance but you were a little late."

His ship pulls up beside mine, close enough to see clearly into the cockpit, and I make out a grin beneath his helmet as he says "It's a shame, I thought this patrol was about to get interesting."

"I didn't think New Republic pilots were allowed to engage," I say since he's failed to identify himself and I want to see how long he keeps this ruse up, but I can't help but like what I see and tease. "Am I under arrest officer?"

I hear him laugh and study his face as best I can, finding it attractive and unfamiliar even with it being obstructed by his flight helmet, but my stomach drops at the markings on his ship and helmet that tell me I'm certainly not mistaken in my identification that he's with the Resistance, spying an orange and white astromech with him. "It's your lucky day, I'm not New Republic."

"Thought not," I say, continuing to play naive. "They aren't allowed to patrol this sector anymore so that leaves the question of who you are."

He continues to play along and I realise he's enjoying this. "Take a wild guess?"

"A moonjockey in a beaten up x-wing?" 

"Beaten up?" I hear him repeat in offence and I can't help but smile. "Not everyone's got the credits to be flying state of the art N-1's so why don't you tell me what organisation you're with?" he asks, knowing I'm sure as hell not part of any New Republic starfighter corps if I'm attacking the First Order without provocation. "Bounty hunters guild or something like that, hired security?"

"Something like that," I answer before remarking "Maybe I'm just a pilot like you who's sick of those bastards and decided to take matters into my own hands."

He seems to like that answer as much as it surprises him. He keeps his ship level with mine and only then does it occur to me that my face could be recognisable from his angle since I can certainly see his, but he doesn't seem to have a damn clue who I am.

"You know," he begins. "The Resistance is looking for pilots."

I have to hold back laughter at the irony. "Is that so?"

"I was tracking the tie's that got behind you before you went into the asteroid field, counted fourteen you took out with those cannons, makes you a double ace, triple if you count the one's you herded into the asteroids."

"I'm a quadruple," I correct a little too proudly. "And that was easy work."

Somehow nothing clicks in his head which makes me wonder where the hell the Resistance believes I actually am for one of their pilots to not register who I must be. Even if he's a newer recruit I'm the daughter of Leia Organa and Han Solo, hell I was the best pilot they had before they permanently grounded me. People know who I am and I'm slightly offended he doesn't. 

Which is why I'm confused as much as amused when he offers. "You're a hell of a pilot, I've only ever known two pilots to pull off that manoeuvre you did and I'm one of them, definitely the only other one to be able to pull it off in space. If you're as good as you seem I can put you in touch with General Leia Organa herself."

I can't help but look back at R2 to make sure he's hearing this but instead of laughing along he beeps at me to consider it, to go home.

"I know I'm a hell of a pilot," I state. "Best one there is."

"Well I don't know about that," he says and wonder just how good he thinks he is. "But I'd be willing to see what you've got."

The challenge is clear in my voice. "Is that so?"

Instead of backing down like a responsible Resistance pilot should he takes it on. "That's right."

He tilts his helmet towards me and I make out the stubbled face beneath the helmet, even obstructed I can't miss the stupidly handsome grin he flashes me and he knows it. Typical flyboy.

Except I might actually like this one.

"Alright hotshot," I say and fire up my thrusters, finding myself genuinely curious. "You know, I never got your name."

"Commander Poe Dameron," he says and it rings a bell even if I know it won't come to me until later. "Of the Resistance if you haven't put that part together yet."

I roll my eyes and even R2 has to laugh at that until something clicks and I very quickly change my mind about liking this one. 

"Commander huh?" I say, realising he must be something then for a man who wasn't there a year ago to get promoted so quickly to a rank I never even held. It almost makes me bitter, nope, it definitely makes me bitter. Almost three years, there since the damn beginning and I was never even considered for that rank, then a new flyboy turns up and takes it. "You must be a real hotshot then."

"The best," he says and R2 begins calculating the jump to hyperspace before I can even give the command. "And you still haven't identified yourself."

"And I'm not going to," I say as I prepare to take off. "But I'm sure you'll figure it out Commander, give General Organa my regards."

He's taken back enough by that remark that I get a head start on him, my ship being far faster than his is with the illegal modifications to the thrusters and while he pursues I quickly lose him through the asteroid belt, getting far enough out of his line of sight until I'm satisfied before jumping to hyperspace so he can't follow and once I'm clear I realise my hands are trembling slightly.

Even if he has no idea who I am, Mom will piece it together if she hasn't already. If the First Order's profiled a rogue Naboo starfighter in the Outer Rims targeting tie fighters I know she has to have the same intelligence from Threepio's spy network. 

If she doesn't know what I've been doing, she's about to.

And if she thought me engaging the enemy was bad, she's going to lose it when she realises what I've been doing in the year since I left base. 

~

Poe

She jumps to hyperspace and I sit there purely stunned, the slight hit to my ego overshadowed by her piloting. I've never seen anyone ever fly like that except for myself, pulling off stunts I thought were impossible until I'd done them in the heat of a skirmish, and not just that, she pulled them off like they were nothing. 

I've come to think of myself as one of the best pilots in the galaxy, knowing it's not ego or arrogance but pure fact. I know damn well what I can do in a cockpit and the results I produce, but she might be the first person I've ever met who could possibly, potentially, have me beat.

I should be mad about that possible fact, but that's the last thing I'm feeling right now, and maybe there's a few butterflies flying about amongst the overwhelming awe. 

"She's something huh BB?" I find myself saying and shake my head in wonder. "Is this what love at first sight feels like because wow..."

No adequate words to finish that sentence come to mind and for a few more minutes at least I sit there stunned until getting it into my head that I have to tell Leia about her. For whatever no doubt valid reason she hates the First Order and she's picking them off like they're nothing, Leia's had me doing recruiting the past few months since I joined and I think I just hit gold.

I have to recruit her.

My heart's still racing from the encounter as I come out of hyperspace and enter D'Qar's atmosphere, asking myself who the hell she could be and what training she has to have to be able to fly like that. She has to be ex navy, or from a planetary starfighter corps, but even then I can't begin to comprehend that a rogue pilot who flies like that is picking off tie-fighters and hasn't been recruited. 

I've gotta tell Leia about her and then go track her down.

"Another boring patrol?" Snap asks as I climb down from my ship but I can't help the grin on my face and the moment my feet hit the ground I can practically feel myself pumping with nervous excitement and so can he. "Get some action then?"

"Oh I wish," I answer and can't help but blurt everything out to him. "Thought I was gonna get some when I tracked some tie-fighter's trying to ambush a lone starfighter but turns out she was the one ambushing them. I counted her take down fourteen with my own eyes and when I caught up to her and asked her to identify herself she just laughed like it was nothing." I find myself shaking my head, knowing it wasn't just her flying that left an impression. "Let me tell you Snap, she's something else."

"So Poe Dameron sees someone blowing up tie fighters and falls in love?" Snap teases while working on his ship, half listening. "Sounds about right."

"You should have seen her man, the manoeuvres she pulled, she pulled a L'ulo stand like it was absolutely nothing and let me tell you when I saw her I swear I did fall in love," I say and can't help but gush a little since it's just Snap. "Brunette with these big eyes, the messy eyeliner you know." He suddenly stops what he's working on but I don't take much notice. "She's got an attitude on her and she's damn beautiful too, but that's beside the point. I've never seen anything like what she did in the field, hell I don't even know where she learned a L'ulo stand but she did it in space. In space Snap! I thought I was the only person that's ever pulled that off." 

He looks over and clears his throat before asking "She identify herself?"

"No, she didn't," I admit, still a little mad she got away without identifying herself but she has to be contracted by someone in the sector to be taking them out with missiles like it's nothing. Hell I wish the Resistance had the spare credits to use torpedoes on tie fighter formations. Not that we're meant to even shoot at them of course. "But I've got another patrol in the sector in a few days and I'll track her down, she'd be a hell of an asset."

Cautiously he asks "And how old was she?"

"Early twenties maybe?" I guess and he nods, like he knows something I don't but my mind's racing a little too fast to think about that. "She was amazing, hell I've never seen anyone fly like that, except for me of course."

Snap nods slowly and slaps a hand on my shoulder. "Might want to mention that to the General."

"Already on it," I grin, maybe a bit ahead of myself but Leia's had me doing recruiting and I'd be neglecting my duty if I didn't follow this up, but I'd be lying if I said that's the only reason I'm excited. "You know, I think she was flirting with me."

He's visibly surprised and looks like he's struggling to keep a straight face as he says "Maybe not mention that part to the General."

~

The grin's still on my face as I come to Leia's office still in my flight suit but she hardly seems phased by the informal visit, if anything relieved to see me in one piece. "Poe you're back, did you find any activity around Tatooine?"

"Oh yep," I say and sit down across from her, practically buzzing with an excitement I haven't felt in a long time. "Two squadrons of tie's, I was following their trail when they were ambushed by a pilot in a Naboo starfighter and she took them out like they were nothing, fired a damn torpedo right into them."

"She?" She wears the same expression Snap did now. "Did she identify herself?"

"No, she took off before she did."

"Well did you get close enough to see her what she looks like or anything else identifying?" Leia asks and her sudden interest surprises me, but it's the desperate edge to her voice that really takes me aback.

"She was pretty," is the first thing that comes out of my mouth, even if it's an understatement, but I quickly realise I misspoke with how she raises her eyebrows at that answer.

"I'm going to need a little bit more than that Commander Dameron," she says with the fond but frustrated tone that's become familiar and I quickly try to redeem myself. 

"Early twenties, brunette, wasn't wearing a helmet and it um-looked like her hair was braided," I start trying to describe and realise she looks a bit like Leia but considering I just blurted out that she's pretty I won't say that, that would just make things weird. "Fair skinned, human."

I can't quite read her face as she clarifies "So she was flying a Naboo starfighter, and did she have a blue and white astromech, an R2 unit?"

"Yeah," I answer in surprise and at the look that crosses her face realise "You know her."

A thought quickly comes to mind but I dismiss it just as quickly. I know Leia has a daughter who's a pilot, Leia's said as much, but from what I've heard she's at university and doing political stuff in the core worlds on Leia's behalf so there's no chance it could be her and besides, there's no way the kid of Leia Organa would be out there acting like that and taking jobs for hire in the Outer Rims. Well considering that's Han Solo's kid as well it's possible but still, from what I've heard about her and seen on the holonews she's more of a politician like Leia than a hop in an x-wing and blow something up sort of fighter, otherwise she'd be on base leading the wing Leia put me in charge of.

Still, Leia takes a deep breath, having to stabilise herself. "I know this Naboo starfighter has gained quite the reputation in the Outer Rims," she reveals to me and feel that cloud of grief that so often follows the General, hear the ache in her voice that's so common but this time there's hope amongst it. "We've been trying to build a profile and the information you've just brought me is far more valuable than anything else you could have collected. Thank you Poe."

"I'm meant to go back out there in a few days," I begin, knowing I'm not gonna be able to let this go. "She's a hell of a pilot and I really think she could be a great asset."

"So do I," she says without missing a beat, amusement written across her face.

"She said she's sick of the First Order and it seems like she's being contracted to take out tie's in the sector so I told her the Resistance was recruiting and she said to give you her regards."

She stills now. "You spoke to her?"

"Yeah," I say and her face changes. "She might have a bit of an ego but from what I've seen she lives up to it. I've seen a lot of pilots but I don't think I've ever seen anything like her, she was picking them off like they were nothing, pulling stunts I've barely been able to pull off."

It hurts my pride a little to admit that but it's true, she really is something else and I need the General to see that as well. 

She purses her lips together and nods before asking "What else can you tell me?"

"Claimed to be a quadruple ace which not even Biggs Darklighter was but-"

"Not about her boasting," Leia sighs and I start to get the sense she actually must know her personally only to jump in my seat as she loudly exclaims "Quadruple ace?! How many kills is that?"

"Twenty or more," I answer and can't hide my concern as she puts her head in her hands. "General?"

"So you're telling me this rogue pilot has made herself a quadruple ace by hunting the First Order for sport?"

Not how I'd put it but I still nod, not seeing a problem with it. "Sounds about right."

"Force give me strength," she murmurs and asks "What impression did she give you besides being pretty and please use your head when you open your mouth this time."

I press my lips together slightly embarrassed, realising I definitely had the wrong choice of words there so try to make up for it now. "With the modifications to her starfighter she's got to have some credits to spare. Took her for the type to be doing contracted work to take them out since it's Tatooine and the people there wouldn't want the First Order anywhere near their business. When I asked if she was part of one of the guilds or something like that she said something like that and that she's sick of those bastards and decided to take matters into her own hands. Her words not mine."

She leans back in disapproval, but surprisingly not towards me. "Did she now?"

Before I can say anything else to put Leia off recruiting her I stress what I came here to say in the first place. "Which is why I recommended she consider the Resistance and that I'd put you in touch."

"You did?" she says and I realise I might have overstepped but stand by my decision.

"With all due respect General, you didn't see what I did out in the field."

"I'm quite aware of her skills," she says but before I can ask any more questions she waves me off. "I'll handle her, you focus on your patrols and have Snap fly a reconnaissance mission in the sector to see where those tie fighters were based, there's no doubt more where they came from."

"General, I can-"

"No, because you'll blow them up," she says knowingly. "That's if this rogue pilot doesn't get to them first. Thank you for bringing this information to me, could you write up a mission report as well."

She's frustrated, but not with me for once. She really does know this pilot personally.

I'm left with questions but the pained look in her eyes keeps my mouth shut and I nod. 

"Of course General."

"Thank you," she says again, genuine gratitude in her voice. 

Over the past few months I've been here I've felt the unmistakeable shroud of mourning that hangs over her as it does now, having become familiar with it from my own father. Except I've never seen such raw emotion in her eyes before, which leaves me wondering what history she and this rogue pilot could possibly have.

[bejcwcled]

welcome to london, POE DAMERON! did anyone ever tell you that you look just like OSCAR ISAAC? well, no matter, we hear that you are 33 and working as a FIREFIGHTER. we also hear that you currently HAVE your memories from STAR WARS and have a tendency to be CONFIDENT as well as IMPULSIVE.

𝙎𝙏𝘼𝙏𝙄𝙎𝙏𝙄𝘾𝙎

full name : Poe Dameron

relatives: Shara Bey (mother - deceased), Kes Dameron (father)

dob : March 19

star sign : pisces

pronouns : he/him

sexuality : bisexual

moral alignment : neutral good

memory status: complete

𝘉𝘈𝘊𝘒𝘎𝘙𝘖𝘜𝘕𝘋

poe is the son of two rebel alliance heroes who took after his mother and became a pilot. he belonged to and eventually helped lead the resistance effort against the first order.  more info about him can be found here in his wikia

he thinks the reason he’s stuck in london is some sort of plot.  not sure who’s doing it maybe palpatine or someone else involved with the dark side.

he’s currently working as a firefighter. he just seems like the kind of person who’d want to run into a burning building and help people.

wanted connections: friends, exes, love interest, roommate(s), co-workers

[phoenix-rising-starbird-one]

I posted 989 times in 2022

That's 232 more posts than 2021!

86 posts created (9%)

903 posts reblogged (91%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@buckymilf

@musette22

@justarandomgirly

@chromium-siren

@dusted-souls

I tagged 386 of my posts in 2022

#writing - 62 posts

#x reader - 36 posts

#reader insert - 24 posts

#mine - 15 posts

#sigh - 13 posts

#shameless self promo - 11 posts

#lmao - 9 posts

#lol - 8 posts

#sebastian stan - 7 posts

#😏 - 7 posts

Longest Tag: 135 characters

#this man’s adonis belt is fucking ridiculous and i’m like looking respectfully cause that shit takes dedication to look like that as in

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

Fic authors self rec! When you get this, reply with your favorite five fics that you've written, then pass it on to at least give other writers. Let's already the self love 💖

Thank you for this ask, Laralie. 💖💖💖

So I’ve done this before but it doesn’t hurt to give my other works some love.

1. Tesselate - A Stucky x fem!Reader one shot. This one started with the simple idea of what if reader can’t sleep after a botched mission and just went from there. Wrote this one at lightning speed and am really proud of how it came together, keeping Steve’s and Bucky’s traits and pasts in mind.

2. You with me? - A Poe Dameron x Reader story taking place in the Star Wars universe. Right now, it’s on hiatus and only written up to before the sequel trilogy. But it will be written within the sequel trilogy timeline. Fingers crossed inspiration hits me soon to finish this one.

3. You’ve got this! And we’ve got you! - A Stucky x friend!reader (platonic) one shot which I wrote days before I had started chemotherapy. I’d poured all my fears into this one. It’s not for everyone as it’s heavy on medical.

4. I Think We’re Alone Now - A modern AU, Firefighter/EMT!Bucky x plus-size!fem!Reader story. Currently only 2 chapters are posted but I hope to have the next one up soon. I went full steam into writing this and then I kind of crashed.

5. Bread, Salt, Wine and Tender Loving Care - A Bucky x friend!Reader medical drama one shot, written from my own experiences. It’s very heavy on angst. So be warned.

Honorable mention: The follow up to #5, which is Of Comfort Foods and Lightning Bugs and Midnight Dances. This one is Bucky x friend!Reader, Sam x Reader. It takes place two years after BSW&TLC.

Please head the warnings for these stories. Most are 18+. They, like my other ones, are all on AO3 and I’ve marked and tagged stories accordingly. Media consumption is the reader’s responsibility and if you’re unsure about the tags or warnings, skip my works.

12 notes - Posted March 28, 2022

#4

Why is it so wrong when I say that I’m not an ambitious person? Like? I’m not lazy. I just don’t care for the never ending contest of always having to be the best. I don’t care about leaving a legacy or some mark in history. And I feel like that should be okay?

13 notes - Posted June 12, 2022

#3

Just thoughts…

Sometimes, I sit here and wonder if my writings have inspired/influenced other writers.

I know that since I started back in 2015ish, there’ve been quite a few writers on here who have influenced my writing and who’ve inspired me to keep going. @oh-nostalgiaa @rinskiroo @whimsicalworldofme @chromium-siren @revisionaryhistory @plussizeappreciationfics @mycapt-ohcapt @drabblewithfrannybarnes @comfortcap @who-talks-first just to name a few.

When I say influenced, I mean that I’ve read some, if not all of their works, and in turn my story telling has expanded/ gotten better, from syntax to vocabulary to world building. Like never underestimate how much your writings have helped and still help me grow as a writer.

17 notes - Posted October 29, 2022

#2

This took an embarrassingly long time to assemble.

40 notes - Posted June 3, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

This gif of Seb is one of my faves ever.

He does the interview, gets distracted as he spots his love either in the crowd or just standing to the side. He’s maybe a little stressed but as soon as he sees them, all that stress just lifts away and he’s visibly lighter and more relaxed.

137 notes - Posted June 14, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

Neato…

[ao3feed--reylo]

HCFD

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/dKwzhPW

by Scyfymom13

Ben Solo smirked, effortlessly reaching to retrieve the breakfast cereal, his long muscled arm resting on the shelf at Rey’s eye level, “Here you go, ma’am.”

“Rey!” She breathlessly corrected, “Thanks.”

Words: 1373, Chapters: 1/3, Language: English

Series: Part 20 of 24 Days Of Reylo Twitter Prompt Fics

Fandoms: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Categories: F/M, M/M

Characters: Rey (Star Wars), Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Armitage Hux, Rose Tico, Finn (Star Wars), Poe Dameron, Ezra Bridger, Tai (Star Wars), Temiri Blagg, Unkar Plutt, Maz Kanata, Leia Organa

Relationships: Rey/Ben Solo | Kylo Ren, Rey/Ben Solo, Rey & Ben Solo, Armitage Hux/Rose Tico, Poe Dameron/Finn

Additional Tags: Twitter, Prompt Fic, #24DaysOfReylo, Mistletoe, Fairy Lights, HEA, Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Firefighter Ben Solo, Rey Needs A Hug (Star Wars), Rose Tico Needs A Hug, Armitage Hux Needs A Hug, Ben Solo Needs A Hug, Christmas Fluff, Christmas, Fire, Foster Siblings, Foster Care, Hospitals, Secret Santa, Visiting Santa Claus, Christmas Cookies, Dreidels, Christmas Eve, Awkward Flirting

read it on the AO3 at https://ift.tt/dKwzhPW

[wearelondonhq]

(brittany) welcome to london, POE DAMERON! did anyone ever tell you that you look just like OSCAR ISAAC? well, no matter, we hear that you are 33 and working as a FIREFIGHTER. we also hear that you currently HAVE your memories from STAR WARS and have a tendency to be CONFIDENT as well as IMPULSIVE.

— WELCOME TO LONDON, poe dameron! you look very familiar, do we know you from somewhere? anyways, take your time settling in because whether you want to or not, it looks like you’re going to be living here for awhile! // welcome brittany, please be sure to follow our checklist here. welcome to the group!

[eyelessfaces]

ashes to ashes

firefighter!poe dameron x reader

it's been so long since I first announced this fic, I know. loosely inspired by this post. thank you to @ofstarsandvibranium for allowing me to write something based on the concept <3

summary: crawling as you witnessed the fire claiming half of your apartment, the only thing you could think about was how cinematic the whole scene was; half of your life burning down in the night, the blurry sight of pairs of chunky boots walking around your apartment and through the flames, the painful feeling of emptiness in your lungs as you rolled onto your back and fought to catch your breath.

just as you began to feel yourself go, an arm wrapped behind your head, holding it up gently.

warnings: depiction of a fire, post-trauma, brief mentions of ptsd, mentions of homelessness, questioning your whole goddamn life, angst, reader has hair

tags: f!reader, obvious firefighter au, slowburn... lol... burn. get it? because of the fire. anyways. mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, domestic fluff, kissing

word count: 8.3k

moodboard!

heat me up masterlist

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

Chicago had the infamous reputation of having harshingly cold winters; that was the promise you had had when you moved there, and as soon as summer faded into fall and instead began to feel like winter, you quickly understood what it was all about, where the myth came from.

And it was okay, in your small apartment at least. 

It was okay whenever the main heating system of the building was working, because it wasn’t always. Surely a small detail your landlord had forgotten to tell you about when you signed the lease. 

Piling up blankets was fine, but that wasn’t the easiest way to stay warm and certainly not your idea of a good winter period.

It was okay again once you made the bright decision of buying a space heater to put in your living room, then it was not okay the night you woke up to the harsh and very distinct smell of smoke because your carpet had caught on fire.

Not exactly the kind of warmth you were expecting.

And it must have been the chemicals, because while down on the floor, crawling as you witnessed the fire claiming half of your apartment, the only thing you could think about was how cinematic the whole scene was; half of your life burning down in the night, the blurry sight of pairs of chunky boots walking around your apartment and through the flames, the painful feeling of emptiness in your lungs as you rolled onto your back and fought to catch your breath.

And just as you began to feel yourself go, an arm wrapped behind your head, holding it up gently.

“Hey, hey. What's your name?” the man shouted loud enough to cover the default slight muffle of his mask and the menacing creaking of flames claiming your space.

You replied in a drowsy, dazed mumble, and it felt like you were on autopilot mode, like your body was acting on his own, your mind not following – you're barely sure of the veracity of what you're saying, and your answer is punctuated by a painful cough.

“Alright, I’m Poe.” he affirmed with a nod before observing and evaluating the behavior of the flames in your apartment. He looked back down at you, his grip on you tightening. “I’m gonna get you out of here okay? Stay with me.” he demanded, cradling the back of your head as you struggled to get air back in your lungs.

You nodded hastily, shutting your eyes tight as he lifted you up, hoping it would make it all better; the reflection of flames in his mask was too painful to see, and you knew seeing all the debris across your apartment would make you faint if you didn’t because of the smoke.

You could only hear the crackling of flames and the distant wail of sirens filling the air as the firefighter stumbled out of there, his grip on you firm yet gentle. You fought to cling to consciousness, trying to focus on the rhythm of his steps as he guided you to safety out of the building.

Your coughs were painful, and the contrast of the fresh cold night air as you got carried outside hit you all at once.

“It's okay, you're out of here, you did amazing” you heard the firefighter say, his voice barely audible to you as you felt yourself go.

The last thing you remember from there is him calling for the medics as a black veil covers your eyes.

—

It takes no time for you to readjust your position in your hospital bed when one of the firefighters pushes the door to your room open.

“Can I?” he asks with a small smile, to which you approve. “How are you feeling?” the man asks as he steps in, carefully closing the door behind him.

“Could be better” you scoff, a coughing fit quickly interrupting you. You try to take a deep breath once you’re done, as the doctor advised you.

“Are you the one that got me out of my apartment?” you manage to ask quietly once you catch your breath, your voice rough.

“Yes” he declares as he approaches, and you squint and read what's written behind his turnout coat as he pulls a chair to sit beside your bed. “You got lucky the fire started in your living room” he continues as he sits down, his lips curling into a small, empathetic smile. He has a handsome face, you can tell now that you can truly and clearly look at the man that saved you. There’s a faint, small scar over his cheek, probably one he got on the field, you guess. His brown eyes are gentle as he looks at you, his gaze somehow consoling, reassuring in some kind of way.

You have no idea what time it is or how long you’ve been there, but he still has some dirt over his face and his dark curls are unkempt, so you figure it might not be that long after it all happened.

“Thank you, Lieutenant Dameron” you croak out, your voice gravelly from coughing so much, and you weakly smile, reaching for the glass of water at your bedside.

“It’s only my duty” he chuckles, revealing an objectively charming smile as he helps and hands you your glass. “The fire started from an electrical problem in your space heater that caused it to short circuit.”

You take a sip of water, taking the information into account. 

“Guess my idea of staying warm backfired,” you joke, with a demoralized smile.

He leans back in his chair, a weak, compassionate smile over his face. "It happens more often than you'd think. People underestimate the risks sometimes. Good thing you made it out okay."

You nod, putting the glass back where it was. “Yeah… I can’t believe half my place is gone.”

“It's tough, but, you know…” he sighs, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Things can be replaced. Lives can't.” His expression is serious but compassionate, and you appreciate his attempt at reassurance, even though the reality of losing most of your belongings and your place is still slowly, painfully sinking in. The room falls into a momentary deafening silence before he breaks it. “We managed to contain the fire, but your apartment took a hit. You'll get through this eventually, it’ll take some time but it's fixable” he declares in a tone both firm and comforting as he runs a hand over the light stubble on his cheeks.

You pinch your lips, your mouth abnormally dry though you just drank water. You shake your head, the knot tightening in your throat.

“Fuck, I have nowhere to go. I have no family here, I won’t get my apartment back before a while, hell, I don’t even know if I want it back” you sigh, reality suddenly hitting you right in the face. A chill runs down your spine as you say it, as if wording it out loud makes it become true.

The Lieutenant shifts in his chair again to lean closer, his hand coming to rest over your wrist.

“We can help you. I will help you.” he nods, searching your gaze. “You can stay in a hotel room while you get it all figured out,” he suggests, trying to cheer you up a bit, showing you the possibilities. “I know a nice hotel downtown, not too expensive, and I’m childhood friends with the manager’s son so you can say you’re coming from me” he smiles, trying to draw one out from you, though he knows damn well that his charming smile can’t do miracles in this job. “We have rehabilitation programs, people usually make it out okay, I don’t see why you wouldn’t. It takes some time, and you’ve gone through a trauma so it’s not easy at first, but I promise you it gets easier.”

You nod, pinching your lips in a small smile as you feel him slightly tighten his grip over your wrist. 

“It’s gonna be okay. I’ve seen people take this as a sign to begin again, an opportunity to start over” he nods again as you look up at him, his brown eyes glistening with a sense of hope that you want to believe in.

“I’ll probably do that. Thank you” you acquiesce, still not fully convinced, though his kindness and sympathy makes it all seem easier somehow. As you look at him, you can't help but wonder about the man behind the firefighter's gear, who he is beyond the guy that rescued you. He smiles gently, getting up from his seat. “And thank you for… You know, saving my life” you smile gratefully. “Really. I don't know how to repay you,” you say genuinely.

“Sure.” he waves off your gratitude. “No need. Just take care of yourself. And maybe consider a safer way to stay warm next time.” he jokes with a grin, but you know it’s lighthearted.

You manage a weak laugh, appreciating the lightness he brings to the whole situation. The gravity of it all is still there in the room and inside you, but the Lieutenant's presence and empathy makes it a bit more bearable.

“Alright, I better get going. If you ever need anything please don’t hesitate to stop by the fire station.” As he stands to leave, he glances back with a warm smile. “And take some rest. You'll be back on your feet soon.”

You nod, a polite and grateful smile over your face.

“Hey,” you call as he reaches for the door handle. He turns back to you, a wondering expression over his face. “What did you say your name was again, Lieutenant Dameron?” 

He smiles warmly, “Poe.” 

—

Poe’s eyes look up from the newspaper as his last name is called by one of his colleagues, followed by a quick gasped “someone for you” with a thumb directed towards the apparatus bay before said colleague leaves.

He tosses the newspaper onto the table his feet are propped onto before he gets up and beelines to the area he’s expected at, looking around for whoever is supposedly here for him until his gaze lays on you, a surprised smile growing over his face.

“Hey!” he exclaims, his voice echoing across the wide room. “How are you doing?” he asks as he walks over to you.

“Better than last time you saw me,” you start, smiling. “Still trying to figure everything out, it’s a bit exhausting but it has to be done, so” you shrug.

“Mhm,” he nods. “Well, as I said, if you need anything I’ll be happy to help” he suggests, a bright smile over his handsome face framed by neat, wavy dark curls. Now that his face is clean, you truly realize how pretty he looks, and his closely shaven face makes him look a bit younger, a bit more innocent than he did the last time you saw him.

“Thank you Lieutenant” you smile back.

“Oh– Please, call me Poe” he scoffs, waving you off. “You know that’s my name” he teases.

“Alright, Poe.” you oblige. “So, yeah, actually I came here to thank you again, and I brought this” you declare sheepishly, handing him a box wrapped in gift paper.

“Oh” his expression immediately turns into an apologetic one when he looks at what you have in hands. “That’s very kind of you but I can’t accept it,” he shakes his head with a skeptic smile. “Against policy.”

You sigh. “Yeah, I figured” you scoff, looking back at the box in your hands. “I wanted to try just in case” you shrug, defeated.

“Yeah sorry, legally and ethically we can’t accept those kinds of gifts.” he explains. “Someone once tried to write us a generous check, and as appealing as it seemed, we had to turn it down” he chuckles, hands coming to rest over his hips. 

“Wow.” you laugh. “Some people are really grateful huh?”

“I guess” he smiles. “And he’d still insist after I told him I could get fired for accepting the check.” 

“Fired?” you ask. 

“Yeah, money’s nice but I could get fired if they find out” Poe nods.

“Fired?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow as a treacherous small smile unwillingly grows over your face.

“Yeah– Oh,” he huffs out a small laugh, before he eventually bursts out into chuckles. “Okay, alright, I get it” he nods, a playful, silly smile over his face. “Yeah, fired, unfortunate for a firefighter, right?” he scoffs, the corner of his eyes softly crinkling as he laughs.

“You get it” you laugh, unable to repress it when he wipes a hand over his face. “Sorry, this is lame.” 

“No, no, I actually never heard this one before–” 

The loud alarm sound cuts him off and resonates through the large room, announcing the units needed for an intervention. “Hah, I’m sorry, I gotta go” he says as you witness his squad rushing to the apparatus bay. “I’ll catch you later maybe, alright?”

“Sure, go do your thing” you pinch a smile, and he gives you back a bright one that makes your stomach flutter and a quick wave before jogging to the truck to quickly change into his intervention clothes.

—

The next time you come back to the station, you make sure it’s with a gift you’re certain he can accept. His face lights up when he sees you coming in, a warm smile plastered over his face.

You see the genuine appreciation in his eyes; even though you had made a good batch, your plate of cookies doesn’t survive for long, Poe’s squad and himself making a feast off of it.

“These are really good.” one of his colleagues babbles, mouth still full of his latest victim. A few poor crumbs are all that’s left off your plate. You smile.

“I’ll take your word for it” you chuckle, reaching to retrieve your empty plate.

“Come on guys, you didn’t even leave her one” Poe reproaches as he watches over you putting back the plastic film to cover the plate.

“You ate most of these Dameron,” another guy of the squad throws accusingly, making the Lieutenant scoff and hold his hands up in surrender. “Okay, alright, sorry” he nods. “They are really good.” he says pointing at you. “Were,” he corrects himself, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Sorry”

“That’s alright, those were for you” you immediately retort with a dismissive wave of your hand. Poe shoots you a sweet smile that you mirror before your gaze shifts to the clock on the wall to overlook the heat rising to your cheeks. “Well, you're good company but I gotta go” you announce as you stand from your seat, giving him a small smile.

“Thank you for the cookies” one of the firefighters calls out.

“Yeah. You really didn’t have to, thank you again” Poe nods as he follows you, a hand over your shoulder. You nod, a small, sheepish smile over your face at the physical contact. “Really, they’re the best cookies I’ve ever eaten, that's why I gobbled them like a glutton. Sorry again for not letting you have one. Is that your job? Are you like a pastry chef?” he asks with genuine curiosity, facing you as you both stop in your steps.

“Nah, just a hobby,” you affirm with a shake of your head and a wide smile that you can’t seem to repress. “But I’ll take the compliment. And you know, I had to go and borrow my friends’ kitchen to make those cookies, so it was basically teamwork”

“Well, gotta thank those friends too then” he grins. “No but really, they were so good. I’d pay for that” he admits as he tilts his head towards you, an admirative glint in his eyes. 

“Well good, because I need money to get my shit together” you joke. Poe smiles at your joke though it shifts into a genuine empathetic grin that you find adorable. You glance back at the clock when you start to feel the blush creep up your cheeks. “Yeah, time to make money, I’m gonna be late to work” you sigh softly.

“Good luck”

“I’m not the one with a high risk job” you scoff. 

He grins and leads you back outside. “You know, we sometimes host charity events here. You could bring some cookies, I guarantee you you could raise a hell lot of money from that. Think about it. We’d let you use the oven here” he grins.

You nod, appreciating the idea. Plus, it’s a reason and occasion to see him again. 

“I will.”

Poe leans against the wall of the firehouse front wall, glancing at you until you're out of sight. He sighs softly when he goes back inside and notices your jacket on the chair.

—

It’s been seven hours; you’re not coming back for it.

His fingers mindlessly run back and forth over the seams of your jacket, his gaze planted towards the pile of paperwork over his desk, waiting to be filled and sent to his superiors.

A couple knocks at his doorframe tear him out of his reverie, eyes darting to Rey standing at the threshold of his office. He greets her with a faint smile as his chair turns to face her, and she frowns as she crosses her arms and leans her side against the doorframe.

“Been watching you, what's wrong?” she asks throwing her chin towards him, and he reacts with a huff from his nose and a shrug. The downside of having a glass windowed office with broken blinds.

“What do you mean what’s wrong” he nonchalantly asks, his voice low, putting your jacket down over his desk.

“You’re leaving this pile of paperwork to rot” she points out, looking at the sheets messily laid out over his desk.

He scoffs, like what she’s saying is complete nonsense. “You know I hate paperwork.”

He does, she knows that, but he hates it so much that he usually does it as soon as he gets it to be over with it, and to avoid procrastinating the daunting task. “I know you do but you usually sit and do it. Here you sat and didn’t do anything” she declares as she watches him slightly turn back and forth in his desk chair. “That’s not like you. You usually can’t stop working one way or another, can’t rest for five minutes.”

“Yeah,” he sighs softly, adjusting his position in his chair.

“This is not me scolding you for taking a breath for once. This is me being worried” she makes clear. Poe doesn’t say anything in return, the blank expression over his face attesting of his lack of concentration. Rey bites down onto her bottom lip, pondering what she could do or say to help her friend out. It’s not like Poe to act so closed off, so quiet, like an empty shell. 

“Is that a new jacket?” she asks, hoping to lift the tension.

“No, not mine” he says as he reaches over to the desk to have the piece of clothing in hands again. “It’s from…” he pauses. “The cookies feast this morning, she left and forgot it”

“Oh”

“I gotta find a way to give it back to her.” he declares mechanically before muttering, “But I don’t know where to find her”

“Well,” Rey lightly clears her throat. “With some luck she will notice soon enough and she’ll come back for it” she shrugs.

“It’s been seven hours”

“People that just lost their place are busy trying to sort things out Poe” she shrugs. “It’s winter and she probably doesn’t have much clothing left. She’ll come back for it”

“It might happen when I’m off shift” Poe mumbles absent-mindedly. 

“So what? Just leave it somewhere everyone can find it, another team will give it to her” Poe closes his eyes and shakes his head, sighing in defeat, and Rey scoffs at the obviousness of it all. Poe is smarter than that, he’s a lieutenant for a reason; something’s not right.

“Oh Poe” Rey scoffs, a scoff of disbelief. She stares at him as he rubs a hand over his eyes, then runs it through his hair. “This is what it's all about isn’t it?” she asks rhetorically, as she already knows it is. “My god… You’re into her” she mutters like she doesn’t believe it.

“Yeah,” he chuckles, admitting it like he’s guilty of something shameful or immoral; but it almost is, in this job. This kind of thing is not supposed to happen, you’re not supposed to fall for a victim. It’s supposed to be a come and go without looking back.

“Look, I’m not opposed to you shooting your shot but–” she halts mid-sentence; she tries to find the right words to say the right thing. “Be careful. You know it’s a touchy subject in our jobs” she pinches her lips in a small, slightly skeptic smile. “Overstepping and everything.” she adds.

“I know” Poe blinks, looking down at your jacket. “I’ll sort this out.”

— 

To be fair, he feels stupid for not thinking about the hotel sooner when he was the one to suggest this place for you to stay at. 

The end of a shift has never felt so long; when he usually finds stuff to do to remain occupied when there’s no intervention, today his mind couldn’t stay off of you. A shift with no major intervention was awfully long already, but it seemed to be so much slower as he looked forward to seeing you.

His knuckles hit the surface of your assigned room in a couple knocks, and your confused expression turns to a bright smile when your door opens to him. His face and ears are slightly flushed from the cold, his dark curls coming out of his beanie, nicely framing his face. “I usually go home and catch up on the sleep I didn't get during my shift but it's cold out there and I figured you wouldn't have brought back a lot of clothes here with you, so I think you'd make good use of this” he smiles, presenting to you your own jacket. 

“Oh” you reply, trying to ignore the way your heart speeds up in your chest, staring at your jacket neatly folded in his hands as he hands it to you. “Thank you,” you sigh, feeling stupid that you managed to forget it at the firehouse.

He smiles. “Of course.” There’s a brief pause as you stand there, and you look back inside your room, at the mess of cardboard boxes filled with the life you’re actively trying to piece back together. You want to tell him to get inside, but you also need to work on that mess of belongings. You hesitate, wondering what to say when he speaks first. “You need help with that?” he asks, nodding towards the room.

“Uh, yeah,” you admit, huffing out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. “I took your advice and decided to start over by sorting out and giving away or selling stuff I don’t need anymore but there’s a lot. I never realized how much stuff I had in my possession until now” you chuckle. “But I’ll manage. You don’t have to worry. You’ve had a long shift, you should catch up on your sleep” you grin.

He waves a hand dismissively, smirking. “Oh, I’m fine. We take turns sleeping during the shift. You know, as long as you wake up when the alarm goes off…”

The daunting task seems to get so much quicker and easier now that Poe is here to help. Surprisingly enough, it even gets pleasant as you talk and laugh about anything and everything, as he intently listens to you as you reveal stories about the trinkets you discover again. Poe has this natural ability to make you feel like whatever you’re talking about is the most interesting thing in the world.

After a good hour and a half of reorganizing and labeling boxes of what you’re keeping and what you’re getting rid of, you’re finally done and it’s time for him to go. You can’t ignore the slight feeling of disappointment as you watch him put his jacket back on.

“Hey uh,” he trails off, grabbing his beanie resting on the bed. “Technically I’m off work and you’re not a victim anymore so,” he rubs the back of his neck, his dark curls falling slightly into his eyes as he looks at you with a grin. “Would you like to go for a drink or something sometime that week?” Poe intently awaits your response; maybe he’s making a mistake, maybe he’s overstepping. 

You can’t repress the smile that grows over your face, the feeling of delight that fills you at the prospect of seeing him again. “Sure,” you nod. “I’d love to”

Your heart leaps inside your chest as your hands brush when you hand him your phone so he can put his number in, and he feels just the same when he pushes his apartment door to a text from you that reads, 

“thank you for today. I look forward to seeing you again :)”

He can’t help the foolish smile beaming over his face.

—

There’s not much left of your belongings after you give them out to charity and after hours spent throughout multiple days waiting for strangers to pick up the different things they bought from you. 

Some part of you assumes that giving up on your life in Chicago would be easier, that moving states and going back to your family would be more reasonable, until you get back onto your feet at least. 

But you hate it, hate the thought of giving it all up just because your stupid space heater short circuited. 

And maybe it's also because something is holding you back.

You’re at work when a text appears onto your phone screen, forcing you to drop everything you’re doing when you see it’s from Poe. Your heart races inside your chest when you open the conversation and read the message. “hey! still on board to hang out?”

Your fingers hover over the keyboard, not sure about which way you should say yes. You settle on “absolutely” and press send.

You try to go back to work while you wait for his response, but the task is compromised because even though you have your ringtone on, you can’t help but check your phone every twenty seconds.

Your phone rings again after what feels like an eternity though in reality, it’s only been two minutes.

“great. I was thinking about going to a bar downtown” 

Another message pops up.

“is it okay if I pick you up at the hotel at 7?”

You take a glance at the time displayed on your computer screen and sigh softly before you reply. “I’m doing extra hours so I get out at 7 :( and I need time to get ready and look somewhat presentable“

Poe’s text comes almost instantly. “hey, no pressure. I’m sure you look just fine”

A foolish smile grows onto your face, and you’re glad he’s not here to see it. 

Another message pops onto the screen.

“I can pick you up at 8 or later if you prefer. or I can pick you up straight out of work at 7 if it makes it easier for you”

You sit and think about it for a moment. It would make it easier for you. You could avoid an extra ride to the hotel.

“I think it does”

You text him the address to your workplace, and the next time you use the office bathroom, you take a moment to make sure you look okay.

The bar is dimly lit by fairy lights strewn all across the ceiling and walls. It casts a soft light over Poe’s face that allows you to admire the faint, dark stubble that is back onto his face again, and you can’t help but look at his teeth when he talks to you; you remember the way they look when he laughs, and the thought makes your stomach flutter and makes you feel like a creep at the same time.

“So, extra hours?” he asks, tearing you out of your reverie before he takes a sip of his half full glass of pina colada. You wince softly. 

“I'm quickly starting to run out of money. You know how insurances are” he raises his eyebrows and tilts his head to the side in agreement. “And I mean, I’m trying to save up because I don’t think I want to go back to my apartment” you explain, an uneasy feeling running through you the moment you start to picture your apartment again, the way it was the last time you had seen it. 

“Yeah, it’s understandable. It’s something we often see.” Poe nods.

“Most people prefer moving out instead of trying to rebuild their home. Too much trauma attached to the place” he affirms, pinching his lips in an empathetic smile.

“Yeah,” you trail off, nervously fiddling with your glass. “And I can’t stay in that hotel room forever. Some friends offered me to stay over at theirs so I’m gonna crash wherever I can until I get back on my feet” 

Poe nods, intently watching you as he swallows another sip of his cocktail before speaking. “Well, you can stay at my place too if you need somewhere to go.” he offers in earnest.

You shake your head, a soft chuckle escaping you. “Poe it’s– you don’t have to” 

“No, no, it’s alright” he insists. “Plus, my apartment is empty for twenty four hours when I’m on shift, so you can take advantage of that”

“This is very kind of you but–” you pause, not certain what you want to say. “We met what, three weeks ago, and you’re willing to let me stay at your place?”

He shrugs, an amused smile over his face. “You made me cookies. You’re trustworthy”

You laugh wholeheartedly, and the sight brings a wide smile to his face. 

“Okay, well, thank you” you huff out, and he grins before taking a sip of his drink. “I won’t bother you much, I’m working extra hours anyways.” 

“Oh and also, you’ll have to let me cook for you when you’re there” 

He raises his hands in fake surrender, a content expression over his face. “If you insist”

—

You’ve established some kind of routine based on a rotation; half a week at someone’s place, the other half at someone else’s. That way, weeks seem to go by quite fast.

Being at work is the only sense of normalcy you can find since those past few months; it’s pretty depressing when you think about it, but it might also be a good thing considering how much time you have to spend at the office doing extra hours just to gather enough money to try find that sense of normalcy back in your life.

You sigh softly as you knock at Poe’s door and set down your suitcase of necessities while you wait for him to answer; you’re endlessly thankful for your friends allowing you to leave your boxes of belongings in their home office instead of having to haul them around or pay for storage. 

“Hey you” Poe greets when he opens the door, a dishcloth in hand as he wipes them clean. You smile at the sight of him wearing an olive green apron, and you walk in when he makes way for you to. You look around the wide place that actually resembles a loft, the place dimly lit and filled with the smell of food cooking, and just that scent is enough for you to be striked with a stomach rumble. 

“Smells good” you affirm, forcing a small smile through your tiredness. “I was the one supposed to cook though, remember?”

“It’s your first time at my place, I have to be a good host” he huffs out, hands placed at his hips. “And I wanted to try this new recipe” he declares, motioning for you to follow him.

You follow his steps, acknowledging the space around you. “Actually it's perfect cause I'm exhausted” you admit in a small sigh.

“Good thing I planned on pampering you tonight then” he grins. 

He was in no way lying about that. 

Poe pulls your chair for you like a gentleman and makes you sit down, absolutely refusing you help him set the table or help him in any other way. 

He finally sits down in front of you after serving your plates and pouring you something to drink, wishing you bon appetit before you both start to eat. 

You listen attentively as he tells you about the interventions of his past few shifts, taking your sweet time to savor his dish from how good it is; you wouldn’t have suspected him to be that good of a cook.

Then suddenly, Poe trails off, his face dropping when he sees you're crying. “Hey,” he calls softly, getting up from his seat to join you. “What’s wrong?” he kneels down in front of you, his gaze raking over your face painted in tears.

“This is simultaneously the best and worst I've felt in months” you chuckle through quiet sobs, nervously fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “And I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing, I have no idea what I should do” you shake your head. Poe watches you intently while you try to avoid looking at him, afraid of what he could think. You’re just the poor girl he saved that lost everything, after all. “Sorry, I don’t know why it’s all coming out now. I’m not even drunk” you apologize, drying your tears with the back of your hand. “And I know some people you rescue have it so much harder than me, but even this, somehow… It feels insurmountable” 

“Hey,” he takes your hand in both of his, stopping you from tearing at the loose seams of your shirt. You feel stupid for breaking down like this in front of him, feel stupid for feeling so lost. “Just because people go through worse doesn’t mean your struggles are not legitimate” he affirms, one of his hands coming to rest over your arm. His other hand soothingly rubs the back of yours, and your tears-filled eyes finally meet his.

“Having to rebuild a life from scratch is a pretty tough thing, but I promise you it eventually gets better” he nods. “And you’re doing great so far. You’re motivated. It's a good thing. There isn't much you can do but wait until it gets better”

His eyes are gentle, his touch soft, and something inside you slowly starts to ease. 

You want to believe it, you want to believe it’s going to get easier, but right now, you can’t seem to see the light at the end of the tunnel.

“I know. But– I’ve been thinking about leaving Chicago.” you admit in a mutter. It hurts to say it, hurts to picture it, but deep down you know it’s probably the solution and the right decision.

“Oh– okay,” he mumbles softly, his voice dropping slightly. You look him in the eyes, before looking down at your lap again, a weak, saddened smile tugging at your lips.

“What you said about starting over… Maybe this is it. Maybe that’s what I need. There’s not much left here for me” you say, swallowing a sob. 

The urge to burst in tears gets violent again, and just like he can sense it, Poe squeezes your hand and gets you onto your feet so you can crash into him and break into sobs while he wraps his arms around you.

— 

You shift in your sleep and your mind screams at you to wake up; something feels off. The bed is too unfamiliar, too big, too comfortable. 

Because you’ve never been there before. 

It somehow simultaneously takes you ages and no time for you to realize you’re in Poe’s bed. 

You sit up, rubbing the sleep off your eyes, pushing the blanket away. You don’t remember coming to bed.

The last thing you remember is talking and watching a few The Office episodes with Poe on his couch, wrapped in one of his blankets. 

You hear the faint clinking of dishes in the kitchen, and you push yourself out of bed to go there. The wide space is filled with the smell of coffee and Poe is standing by the stove, flipping pancakes, dressed in the same clothes as last night, just like you are. He turns when he hears your footsteps, and gives you that easy smile that makes your stomach flutter.

“Morning,” he greets you, his voice warm. “Got your beauty sleep?”

You chuckle, rubbing your face. “Yeah, about that, you didn’t have to leave me your bedroom.”

Poe shrugs, turning to flip another pancake. “C’mon, it’s fine. It was part of my plan already anyway.”

You scoff and join him, leaning against the counter beside him. “I was already on the couch, I bet it would have been easier to leave me here than to drag me to your bed”

“You deserved a better night's sleep after the day you had.” he turns the stove off and looks at you. “I carried you out of a building in fire, remember? This was nothing” he smiles softly, handing you the plate of pancakes. You take it, and he gently rests a hand over your shoulder as he walks past you to pour you both a cup of coffee and hand one to you. "Besides, you’ve been through enough. A comfy bed is the least I can do sweetheart”

You take a sip of your coffee, savoring its warmth, but his words cut deeper than they probably should. There’s something so natural about the way he’s taken you into his space, about the way he looks out for you. 

It’s comforting, and maybe that’s what scares you the most. 

You haven’t brought last night’s conversation up again, and neither has he, but you can feel it there between the two of you. 

The possibility of leaving Chicago feels more real every time you think about it, and yet, being here with Poe makes the idea of leaving seem that much harder.

—

Poe is seated at his desk, locked in onto a pile of paperwork when a soft knock sounds from the doorframe. 

He glances up and it's Snap leaning casually against the door with a mischievous grin. 

"Your girlfriend’s here," Snap mouths teasingly as he points behind him; Poe rolls his eyes but can't help the small smile that tugs at his lips.

Snap steps aside, making room for you to enter the room. You flash him a quick, grateful smile before he leaves and before you step inside the office. Poe rises from his seat to greet you with a warm hug, one that feels natural after how close you've grown those past few weeks. The installed routine of crashing at his place every other week has deepened your relationship, turning it into something that feels comfortable, familiar.

“How’s your day going?” you ask, leaning against the wall.

“Busy, but nothing I can’t handle,” Poe replies, shrugging with a grin. “How about you? What brings you here? Missed me?” he grins playfully, and it widens when you huff out a laugh.

“I actually came to tell you some good news.” you take a deep breath, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through you. “I got an update about my apartment.”

Poe’s eyebrows lift in curiosity as he steps a little closer. “Oh? What’s going on?”

You can’t help but smile. “Since it’s uninhabitable for now, and because I’m not responsible for the fire, I’m getting my deposit back– and insurance is going to cover a pretty decent amount.”

Poe’s face breaks into a wide grin. “See? I told you so!” he says, his voice full of genuine happiness, as his hand rests lightly over your arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. There’s relief in his tone too as things are finally looking up for you.

You pause for a moment  before adding, “So…” you grin, tentatively. “I’ve decided to stay in Chicago.” 

Poe’s eyes light up at the news. “Really?” he asks, his voice a little breathless, as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing.

“Yeah,” you huff out a small laugh, nodding. “Actually, I came here because I was in the neighborhood looking at an apartment. It’s a bit cramped, but it’s all I can afford right now. And, hey, it’s better than nothing.” you shrug. “And… it’s like a seven-minute walk to the firehouse,” you add with a grin.

Poe smirks, “So, you’re gonna bring me cookies every day?”

“Obviously,” you laugh.

“I’m gonna have to exercise at least twice as much because of you.” he grins, placing a quick affectionate kiss on your cheek. Without thinking, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Thank you, Poe,” you murmur softly, your voice filled with gratitude. “For everything you’ve done for me.”

He hugs you back and holds you tight for a moment longer, the embrace a silent acknowledgment of everything you’ve been through together, how far you've come since you met– this could have happened in a better context but somehow, some part of you is glad it had to be him you stumbled onto.

“You don’t have to thank me,” he says, pulling back just enough to look at you. “You’re strong. You’ve been handling this like a champ.” he nods with a proud smile.

You smile back, still holding onto him. "I couldn't have done it without you."

Poe chuckles softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes rake over your face, from your eyes down to your mouth before he stops lingering and pulls away. "Come on," he says, stepping back and motioning for you to follow him. "I’m gonna introduce you to everyone."

The sound of chatter and laughter fills the room where the rest of the crew is gathered. Poe introduces you to his colleagues and friends, and as you chat with everyone, you feel a sense of belonging and acceptance like you’ve known them for ages.

—

The new year passes around and January takes place quicker than you realize; sleeping on your friends couches is starting to take a toll on your back, so you’re barely able to keep a facade and hide your excitement when you finally get the keys to your apartment and when Poe and your friend Jay haul your brand new sofa bed up the narrow stairwell of the building.

“Where is it going?” Jay asks, short of breath after struggling to angle the piece of furniture to fit your doorframe. 

“Right there,” you point, and your other friends quickly push the cardboard boxes aside to make way for Jay and Poe as they transport and set the sofa down.

It’s the first time in months that things feel real, that you feel like you’re moving forward again. The apartment is small – really small – but it's yours and that fact alone is enough to make you feel relieved.

Your cramped space is a mess of half-unpacked boxes, random piles of bubble wrap, and stacks of furniture pieces waiting to be assembled. 

Your friends each have their own tasks, helping in various ways; Olivia starts assembling your coffee table, grumbling under her breath about missing screws, while Poe puts together your dining table with a look of concentration.

You're tucked away in a corner, hunched over a cardboard box labeled kitchen, sorting through utensils and plates. Your friend Sam joins you, taking out mugs and setting them on the counter beside you. She looks over at Poe, who’s working on screwing a table leg into place with the help of Mike, then she leans in a little closer to you, her voice lowering in that teasing way she does when she’s trying to stir something up.

“Your firefighter boyfriend is cute,” she grins. Your grip instinctively tightens on the pile of plates you’re holding, afraid you’re going to drop it at any moment.

“He's not– we're friends” you scoff, trying to play off though you can’t deny your heart rate going up. 

Sam gives you a knowing look, raising her eyebrows dramatically. "Oh, come on. You can’t tell me there isn’t something there. I’ve seen the way you look at each other."

You feel your cheeks heat up instantly, a wave of nervousness rising in your chest even though you can’t really bring yourself to argue. Poe and you– there’s always been something there, you know that, it's painfully obvious. But putting it into words, admitting it out loud? 

"I don’t know," you finally say, your voice quieter now. "I mean, yeah, he’s amazing. I just… it’s complicated. I haven't really had the time to think about it that way” you shrug, taking a glance at him. 

"Look, I’m just saying, if you’re not interested, maybe I’ll ask him out." she shrugs nonchalantly though her grin attests of her playful tone.

"Very funny, Sam."

She chuckles as she pats your arm, obviously enjoying your flustered reaction. "Just think about it. You two have that vibe, you know?” she insists, putting away the cardboard box she’s unloading now that it’s empty. “Whenever you're ready to admit it, just know I'm rooting for you."

You roll your eyes, though the smile on your face betrays you. 

You hadn’t allowed yourself to think too deeply about it– about him. It had been much easier to push that aside and focus on practical things, like getting through each day, finding a place to live, and piecing your life back together.

—

Your apartment empties after getting filled and reaching a state that starts to make it feel like a home; your friends progressively leave until Jay and Sam are the last to, each giving you a hug at the door and congratulating you on the new place.

"You owe us dinner for all this labor," Sam jokes as she steps out, winking at you as she heads down the stairs. You roll your eyes with a smile, watching her go before closing the door behind them.

A small sigh leaves you when you turn back and look around the place that is significantly quieter now. Poe is still sitting on the floor, carefully tightening one last screw to your dining table to make sure it’s secured. “Okay,” he groans softly as he stands up, wiping his hands over his jeans. “Should be good”

“Thank you” you say softly, standing against the counter.

He gives you a modest shrug as he puts the screwdriver down on the table. “It’s nothing.” he smiles, stepping closer until he’s standing beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. 

You both proudly admire the place you have spent the last few hours furnishing – it’s small, but it’s just enough for you alone there, and at least now you won’t have to rely on a space heater to survive Chicago’s cold.

You feel Poe look at you, truly look at you, feel the warmth of his gaze lingering over you. You feel it so clearly that it makes you blatantly aware of how close you are, how intimate it feels to be here, in your apartment, alone with him.

You glance over at him and he smiles, his expression softening as his hand reaches out, brushing a stray strand of your hair away from your face; the touch is so tender that it sends a shiver through your spine. “I’m glad you decided to stay.” 

His confession makes your heart flutter, and a tired smile tugs at your lips. “I am too.” you admit, fully turning to him. “And thank you again. Not just for this. For everything”

He shrugs, his face twisting in a grimace. “You’d have managed just fine, even without me”

You tilt your head to the side in disagreement. “I would have been roasted chicken without you, if you remember. So thank you. I mean it” 

He breaks into a laugh, rich and warm, shaking his head. His laughter is so contagious you can’t help the wide smile that grows onto your face. “Okay, maybe I saved you once. But, anytime,” he nods, his voice softer now, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. "You know that, right?" 

You find yourself nodding, scarily aware of how fast your heart is pumping inside your ribcage. You swallow as his gentle eyes rake over your face, your own gaze flickering between his lips and his eyes. 

“I know,” you whisper, your breath cutting short like you’re out of air. Somehow, all nervousness escapes you when his fingers drift to gently grasp your chin, ever so slightly angling it towards him.

He hesitates for a second, like he’s giving you the option to pull away if you wanted to; you don’t, there’s nothing you’ve been wanting more since you met him.

You lean in, meeting him halfway as his lips press softly against yours, tentatively. Your hands instinctively find their way to rest over his chest, and you sigh into the kiss when you feel the fast beating of his heart under your palm, the comforting warmth of him beneath your fingers. 

It’s not rushed or hurried – it’s like this action is a quiet, mutual acknowledgment of everything that has been left unsaid between the both of you for the past few weeks– hell, months.

The drunken smile over his lips as he pulls away has you going for another kiss; he pulls you even closer, his hands finding your hips, gently resting there. 

His forehead rests against yours when your lips grow apart, your arms wrapping around his neck when he nuzzles your cheek. “I should get going,” he whispers reluctantly, his hands still on your hips.

There’s a moment of silence– You swear you could almost hear the snow falling outside. “Really?” you finally ask, your voice teasing.

“Nah” he murmurs, and you both laugh softly as he pulls you closer, his arms fully wrapping around you.

—

please note that I'm planning on extending this universe just because I love it so much, I love them so much and I had so much fun writing this, so there will be more stuff linked to this one shot and you can request drabbles, headcanons or whatever you'd like about this AU!

people that wanted to be tagged in this (it was so long ago you probably forgot about this, sorry): @steven-grants-world @faretheeoscar @minigirl87 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @spectorslut

@lunar-ghoulie @ineffablewifes @whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @thatwonderouswoman

poe dameron taglist:

@lockleysgrl @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @campingwiththecharmings

@mintgreen24 @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem  @friedwings

@luxisluxurious @stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96

@unear7hly @pigeonmama

[ofstarsandvibranium]

firefighter!poe gets beebs a firetruck outfit and it's the cutest thing ever. on halloween, the station hands out candy to the local kids and you bring beebs with you and the squad and kids are all over beebs and his cute costume.

[campingwiththecharmings]

for minigirl87

Hi, congratulations 🎊 on your 1 year anniversary. Could I request, please. Poe Dameron and the AU firefighter. I used to clean in a fire station and have a thing for firefighters, plus I could could easily see Poe as a fireman, lol. Take care ❤️

Some Like it Hot

For @minigirl87

AN: Another fic-aversary request! I know you sent this to me via messenger AGES ago and you probably don't even remember doing it but I need you to know that Firefighter!Poe has had me in a chokehold ever since lol. THAT SAID, I have no idea if this is what you were looking for but my muse is a whore (esp for Poe) so here we are. Absolutely shameless smut, very, very little plot. Hope y'all enjoy 😌❤️

(Un-beta’d)

Rated: M+ (this is smut so, i mean, you’ve been warned?) Words: 1,297 Pairing: Firefighter!Poe Dameron x Photographer!F!Reader Warnings: PWP, p in v, strangers to lovers, praise kink, please let me know if i missed anything. AO3

——————

Somehow, you’d known that it would end this way.  

Well, maybe not this exact way—with you fucking a smoking-hot firefighter in the dark room of your studio—but the second he’d walked into the room, you’d known something was bound to happen. Granted, you’d been thinking more along the lines of a coffee date or, if you were really lucky, dinner.  

The Universe had other plans, it seems (and who were you to argue?). 

His strong fingers grip you tightly as he fucks into you from behind, every powerful thrust of his hips all but knocking the breath from your lungs. A choked moan escapes you as he hits one of your sweet spots, cunt clenching around his (considerable) length and pulling a groan from between his lips. You feel so good, so full, the pleasure zinging through your body as he drags himself in and out of your slick heat.  

You don’t normally do this—this being fucking someone within hours of meeting them, without even knowing their full name—but there’s just something about this guy—Poe—that makes you wanna give him everything. 

It had started innocently enough, just lingering glances and a bit of flirting, but the tension had grown between you the longer the shoot went on. More than once, your gaze had lingered, unable to stop yourself from admiring him—with his leanly muscled body, chiseled jaw, deep eyes, and that stubborn curl that kept falling across his forehead. He could tell you were into him; you’d known by the way he’d looked at you. 

Normally, you were more professional while you worked, more respectful of the vulnerability of your subjects as you shot them. You’ve never felt this before though, this pull, this need, and it surprised you how quickly you’d thrown out all your principles for what you assumed was just a one-time thing. 

“Taking me so well, sweetheart,” Poe slurs, the pace of his thrusts faltering slightly as you flutter around him. “Fuck, feels so good.” 

You can’t help the whine that escapes you at his praise, your fingers gripping the edges of the counter he has you pressed against. You kind of wish you could see his face (you bet he looks stunning when he comes), but he’s hitting you so deep like this it’s a little hard to complain. 

He grunts when you flutter around him again, your fingers aching as your grip on the counter tightens. You’re so close, can feel the tension coiling inside you as he spears into you again and again. You push back to meet him and he moans, his cock somehow reaching even deeper inside you, electricity zinging up your spine. 

“Please,” you breathe, unsure exactly what you’re asking for. 

He seems to know though, adjusting his thrusts so he can lean forward and slip his hand between your thighs, calloused fingers immediately finding and circling your clit. You whimper in pleasure as a myriad of sensations race through you, your arms shaking as your body is pushed closer and closer to the brink.  

“You’re right there aren’t you, sweetheart?” he murmurs, his voice thick with his own pleasure. “You’re so close, squeezing me so tight—” 

All you can do is moan in pleasure, in agreement, the combination of his cock and his fingers making you feel almost drunk. 

“Need you to come for me,” he pants, more of a plea than a demand. “Need to feel you.” 

Without warning, Poe pulls you up from the counter so your back is flush against his chest. Your mouth falls open in surprise, a noise somewhere between a squeal and moan escaping as he grinds up into you, his thrusts slower now but no less devastating. 

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, head lolling back against his shoulder as he groans in agreement.  

He’s just as far gone as you, it seems, his thrusts a little sloppier now as he nears his peak.  

“Pussy feels like heaven, sweetheart,” he slurs, his mouth and tongue molten against your heated skin. 

You feel like you're drowning, like he’s suffocating you with pleasure. You need something, something to hold onto, something to keep you grounded. You reach back, plunging your fingers into his soft curls, gripping them for dear life. You’re so close, right there at the edge, the tension inside you wound so tight you feel as if you might burst.  

Another brush of his fingers against your clit is enough to send you soaring over the edge, your body shaking in his arms as your release slams into you. Poe’s groan is choked as you convulse around him, but he fucks you through it, mumbling words of praise and encouragement in your ear as waves of pleasure surge through you (“That’s it, baby, soak my cock. Oh fuck, yeah, just like that, oh good girl—”) 

He stills a moment later, spilling his thick, hot cum deep inside you, his strangled moans muffled as he buries his face in your neck. You relax a little as you come back down, the solidity of his body against yours comforting. You stay like that for a moment trying to catch your breath, the two of you panting and half naked in the middle of the room. After what simultaneously feels like two seconds and an hour, he pulls back a bit from your neck, leaving a gentle kiss at the top of your spine that makes something in your chest ache.  

“Okay?” he asks, his voice soft and a little raspy. 

You hum, nodding as you allow yourself to melt into him a little, your body going limp in his hold. He chuckles softly, tightening his arms around you and pressing another kiss against your neck. For a moment, you let yourself pretend, pretend that the two of you aren’t strangers, that this isn’t a one-time thing, that he’s yours (and you’re his). 

He slips out of you with a hiss, the loss of him dragging you back to reality. Your legs feel like jelly, but you manage to stand on your own, shakily pulling your clothes back on before turning to face him. Considering the position you were just in, it’s silly how awkward you suddenly feel. You lean against the counter behind you, chancing a glance up at him; the soft smile on his lips makes your heart skip a little. 

Ugh, he looks just as gorgeous in the red light of the dark room as he did when he’d waltzed into your studio hours ago. A part of you kind of hates him for it. 

Before you can say anything, he leans in, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. You sigh, eyes fluttering shut as you kiss him back, your arms winding around his neck. His hands settle on your waist, pulling your body against his as he licks into your mouth. You moan softly, completely lost in him, in the way he’s making you feel. When you part for air, he presses his forehead against yours, your pants mingling in the small space between you. 

“Go out with me,” he breathes, his nose bumping against yours. 

You huff a laugh at the request (demand?), fingers tangling in the curls at the base of his skull. He smiles again, his lips brushing over yours. 

“Probably should’ve asked that before, huh?” 

You laugh again, still breathless. “Better late than never.”

His laugh is husky and the sound of it makes something warm settle in your gut. “I appreciate you being so understanding.” 

You bite your lip, smothering your smile. “I know you’ll find a way to make it up to me.” 

He hums in agreement, a playful gleam in his eyes as he leans in to kiss you again. “I’ve got a few ideas.”

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

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PART 2

[unstoppableforcce]

not my first responder tv obsession making me want to write a Star Wars/ 9-1-1 au

like c’mon, I have a novel and degree to finish and an actual job to do but also ??? I want to do it ???

[multifandomhoodies]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Poe Dameron/Finn, Poe Dameron & Jessika Pava, Poe Dameron & Temmin "Snap" Wexley, Finn & Jessika Pava, Finn & Temmin "Snap" Wexley, Finn & Rey (Star Wars), Finn & Rose Tico, Finn & Jannah (Star Wars) Characters: Poe Dameron, Finn (Star Wars), Jessika Pava, Temmin "Snap" Wexley, Karé Kun, Rey (Star Wars), Rose Tico Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Firefighters, Wildland Fire AU, squad dynamics, Slow Burn, Self-Indulgent, Poe and Finn both independently work through issues and that's growth baby, poe and finn and friends are all hotshots, jessika pava teases poe mercilessly for being a Huge Nerd, they're all so cool tho, Poe loves ABBA Series: Part 3 of Sparks (Wildland fire AU) Summary:

A new recruit from Kalluran Smokejumpers, Finn Everson joins the Bespin Hotshots out of Yavin National Forest. There, he meets the Bespin Hotshot Crew, including their hopeful new squad boss, Poe Dameron. He and Poe work through some troubles of their own and find something new out of it.

Wildland Fire AU, set after Impact but that's not necessary to understand this.

It’s FINALLY here! The wildland fire fic I’ve been working on for a while!