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Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Warnings: Dub/Non-Con, coerced sex, extreme jealousy, alcohol abuse, restraints, mild violence, Dark!Han. I'll see myself to the dumpster.

Set post-Luke's disappearance, but pre Episode VII.

-------

Poe Dameron was young, pretty, talented, and worshiped the ground his wife walked on. Han hated him from the moment he met him. The boy had a smart mouth and smarter flying skills, and Han was getting real tired of hearing how Dameron could outstrip even him in the air.

The fact that Leia adored him only turned his stomach more. Oh, he was sure to people who did not know her as well as he did that they thought she treated Dameron like anyone else. No. Leia did not smile like that, did not give her attention like that, did not laugh like that for just one of her many subjects. This asshole was something special to her.

Han remembered a time when he had been the special one.

There were not many people on the base that weren’t taken by Dameron’s charm, but Han managed to find a few. Last thing he wanted while he was stuck in this damn place, trying to convince Leia to give him another ship now that the Falcon had been stolen, was to hang out with people who would tell him how great Poe Fucking Dameron was.

It was one of them who planted the idea in his mind. Admiral Amaru and Han were sitting on the edge of the flight field, watching Dameron giving orders to the assembled pilots.

“There are pilots twice his age out there,” Han grumbled, mostly to himself. “Young twat like that shouldn’t be bossing them around.”

Amaru narrowed her eyes, her purple lips pursing together in a universal sign of displeasure. “Unfortunately, experience does not always equal rank in this establishment.” Han snorted, taking a swig of something that Leia would have definitely disapproved of.

“How’d a kid like him get all the way up to field commander of the entire damn fleet, anyway?” Not that it was much of a fleet, being only thirty or so ships, but it was enough to be dangerous.

“The General likes him,” Amaru sniffed. “As long as he keeps his head between her legs, she lets him do whatever he wants.”

The image stuck with Han. He had no idea if there was any truth to it, or if Amaru had been attempting to be facetious. But every time he saw Dameron afterward, saw the way Leia smiled at him, he thought of how the young man would look taking up Han’s side of the bed.

After a particularly difficult argument with Leia (that he lost. Why was he always losing?), Han took over a secluded conference room and set to drinking. Leia might not give him a ship, but he sure as hell was going to run her out of liquor in revenge.

He was two and a half sheets to the wind when Dameron found him. The pilot wrinkled his nose as soon as he walked through the door, obviously not approving of Han’s method of dealing with the situation. “— sir.”

“What the hell do you want?” Han snapped, his mood not helped at all by the appearance.

“The General sent me to find you. To make sure you were all right.” Han snorted, slamming his glass down.

“Like she gives a shit. She just sent you to taunt me, didn’t she?” Dameron looked genuinely confused, but Han was too gone to care. He forced himself up to his feet, grabbing the front of the younger man’s shirt.

“Sir, you’ve had too much to drink – I think you should really go to bed.” Han laughed without a trace of humor.

“Oh, do you now? Of course, you’re so smart. So much better than me. I’m just an old man, after all, an old relic of bygone days.” Dameron squirmed, trying to unaggressively loosen Han’s grip. “That was her point, wasn’t it? ‘Look how much better I can do than you.’” Han could imagine her face as she said it, and it made his blood boil.

“What are you talking about –“ Han shoved the smaller man back, hard, knocking him against the table.

“You know what I’m talking about!” he roared, after him as soon as he had moved, hands in his shirt again. “You think you can just fuck my wife and play innocent with me?”

Dameron stared at him, brown eyes wide in shock. “Fuck your—“ His expression closed, becoming stern. “Sir. The General is an amazing and beautiful woman. But I am not, and will never be, in that kind of a relationship with her.” His jaw tightened, protective anger obvious in his voice. “But with all due respect, even if I was, she’s no longer your wife. You’re divorced. You have no right to be angry with her, nor anyone she chooses to welcome into her bed.”

It was the wrong answer. Han saw red. When Poe came back into focus, the younger man’s bottom lip was bleeding and starting to swell.

Han didn’t feel an ounce of guilt. The pretty boy deserved to have his face messed up by someone.

“Guess she doesn’t have the right to care about who I fuck, either, huh?” A dark thought had seeded itself in his mind, and was growing all too rapidly. Leia may have him trapped here, but he was a smuggler, and a thief. A scoundrel. He would rob her of more than just her alcohol.

Dameron yelped in protest when Han flipped him over and pinned him against the edge of the table. Han was quicker than him even drunk, and far stronger. The kid obviously spent too much time in a cockpit, and not enough learning how to break out of someone’s hold. It only took a brief struggle for Han to get both of Dameron’s hands twisted behind his back, secured there with a hastily removed belt.

“What the hell are you –“ Han clapped a hand over Dameron’s mouth, muffling his yell.

“You really want to bring someone running?” he muttered in the younger man’s ear, pressing him down over the table top with his own weight. “Sure, someone might get you out of this. But then you’d have to go explain what happened to your precious General.” Dameron jerked beneath of him, and Han knew he could feel the length of Han’s cock pressed hard against his ass. He thrust his hips once, just to make Dameron squirm. “That’d probably hurt her feelings something fierce.”

Han slowly removed his hand, and stony silence told him that his threat had worked. Oh, Han would make sure she figured it out. Hurting her feelings was the entire point. But only after he had a chance to hurt them good and deep.

“What do you want?” Dameron finally growled.

“Just some stress relief.” It was a lie, but Han had long stopped counting those. He reached around, groping Dameron through his uniform pants. Dameron grunted, but did not protest Han’s wandering hands until he started on the buckle.

“Wait wait wait—“ Han ignored him, yanking down the zipper and forcing Dameron’s pants to mid-thigh.

“You’ve got a nice ass,” he told him amiably, smacking one cheek. “Guess Leia’s missing out.” He started unhooking his own pants, which only made Dameron struggle more.

“Hey, hey, look, if you – if you just do it like this you’re going to seriously hurt me and then there’s no way the General won’t find out.” Han paused, actually considering that possibility. Leia finding out was inevitable, but even now he did not want to break her toy. Just abuse it a little. Besides, going in completely dry would chafe his cock.

A quick glance around the room did not provide him with any particularly appealing alternatives, and there was no way he was going to just go wander off to find something.

“Guess this goes the old fashioned way, then.” Han hauled Dameron up and then forced him to his knees, moving around in front of him. Dameron gaped up at him as he pressed the tip of his cock against the younger man’s cheek. “Don’t look at me like that. You’re the one who doesn’t want me to go in dry. So you better fix the problem.”

Han was not sure anyone had ever given him such a vicious look throughout a blowjob before. Instead of being reminded of himself, Dameron’s glare reminded him of Leia’s. The comparison only made Han harder. Dameron was obviously being purposefully sloppy, trying both to get Han’s cock as wet as possible and to make it an unpleasant experience. Han let him have his petty revenge for a little while, but as soon as he was satisfied Dameron had done enough, he took a handful of curls and thrust deep, making the younger man choke around his cock.

He pulled out with a dark chuckle at his own little prank, and hauled Dameron back to his feet. Dameron did not struggle as Han bent him back over the table, kicking his legs apart.

“You’re fucked up,” Dameron hissed, verbally combative even if he could not be physically.

“Been told that before,” Han answered casually, and shut him up with a vicious thrust.

Dameron was beautiful like this in a way Han had not given him credit for previously. His lips, still busted and now swollen from being wrapped around Han’s cock, were parted, jerky breaths being pulled between them. Sweat caused a single curl to stick to his forehead, while the others bounced with each thrust of Han’s hips. His ass made a satisfying smack each time Han came in contact with it. He could tell that Dameron was trying hard not to react, to not even make a sound.

Han chuckled again and adjusted his aim.

He knew he hit home with Dameron jolted forward with a cry even he could not contain. “Right there, huh?” Han pushed onward, grinding against Dameron’s prostate mercilessly.

“Sir – Han, sir –“ Dameron started to gasp the words wildly, but Han paid him little mind. He grabbed another handful of curls, yanking Dameron’s head back, enjoying every whimper as he pleasured him to the point of pain.

“You’ve got such a tight ass,” he muttered, voice low and husky. “Bet it’s popular. Maybe you didn’t fuck Leia to get your stripes, but I’m sure this got you more than a few of them. Maybe I’ll suggest you for a promotion myself.”

Dameron tried to respond, his lips attempting to form words that were never voiced. Tears had welled up in the corner of his eyes, and he was making quiet, unintelligible sounds. Han grinned to himself, using his free hand to grasp Dameron’s cock. He found it to be wonderfully hard, leaking already from his ministrations.

“You’re going to come for me,” he growled in Dameron’s ear. “So Leia knows just how much I wrecked her favorite pet.” Dameron gave one last futile attempt to jerk away, but Han held him fast, stroking him as violently as he thrust into him.

The moment Han felt Dameron spill over his hand was the moment he came, hard and fast, into his ass.

Han gave himself a moment to pant for air, and then another to admire the way Dameron was slumped against the table top, flushed and exhausted. He slowly slid from him, feeling a rush of possessive pride as he watched his own semen leak out down the younger man’s thigh. A few seconds later he’d retrieved his belt from around Dameron’s wrists and tucked himself back in. Dameron still appeared to be trying to remember how to move.

“I feel a lot better, kid,” Han stated, draining the last of his glass of whiskey and heading for the door. “Thanks for clearing all that up.”

In the morning Han had a new ship to call his own, and he left without a backwards glance.

oh my god this was so dark and SO great, the kind of Han that a long grinding war could produce. thank you!

You're welcome! Glad you liked it!

Not OP, but this is so darkly hot.
Hate-fucking, tears, whump!Poe (sexy and defiant even being violated), dark!Han, Han/Poe, mention of Leia/Poe..things are great.

PROMPT POST #3 - CLOSED

This post is closed to new prompts! Go here

[FILL] Petty Victories - Han/Poe, Dub/Non-Con

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Re: [FILL] Petty Victories - Han/Poe, Dub/Non-Con

Re: [FILL] Petty Victories - Han/Poe, Dub/Non-Con

Re: [FILL] Petty Victories - Han/Poe, Dub/Non-Con

Re: [FILL] Petty Victories - Han/Poe, Dub/Non-Con

Re: [FILL] Petty Victories - Han/Poe, Dub/Non-Con

Re: [FILL] Petty Victories - Han/Poe, Dub/Non-Con

Re: [FILL] Petty Victories - Han/Poe, Dub/Non-Con

Re: [FILL] Petty Victories - Han/Poe, Dub/Non-Con