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foxilayde · 2 years

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I have a feeling Poe loves having his ear lobes sucked and nibbled on.

Ten, Eleven, Twelve [Poe Dameron x Fem!Reader]

Word Count: 4.2k

Warnings: 18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Explicit.

Summary: You hooked up with Poe last night and now you're late to your 10am call time... but you've got time for a few more rounds, right?

You don't wake up with a harsh alarm like most mornings, jolted into consciousness with aggressive buzzing and beeping... no this morning, on this glorious morning, you are roused gradually awake by something like a combination of sunlight through your bunk window and Poe's body heat, working together to warm your internal temperature just slightly too high for your body to comfortably sleep through.

But you don't move. Because Poe is exactly as you saw him last, laying naked, on you and in you- his face tucked lovingly in the crook of your neck. You strain your eyes to get a hint of his sleeping frown. It's not a dissatisfied look he wears, it’s just... relaxed. He looks ten years younger like this, his usual furrowed smoldering brow is smooth and you hope a good dream is playing somewhere in his pretty head. You would turn your head to see more of his pouting slack face but you don't want to wake him.

He's breathing so deeply, so slowly. At the top of each inhale, air catches somewhere in his lovely nose, making the faintest most endearing tiny snore. He's got his arms wrapped up under yours, hands cradling the back of your head under your pillow. You smile to yourself, this is how he usually sleeps by himself in the bottom bunk. On his stomach, arms under his pillow. His stomach expands with each slow breath, pushing into your abdomen, and despite how heavy he is and how warm the morning is getting... despite the ache in your inner thighs at being spread open for an ungodly measure of time, you've never felt more comfortable.

You almost will yourself to fall back asleep.... But the light from your window is blaring on your eyes too vibrantly through your closed lids, and then it hits you- your knifing 10am call time. Judging by the light, that ship has sailed and you're a little miffed as to why no one bothered to come get the two of you. You grumble and shift slightly, now feeling the ache in your arms, in your neck... all over. Maker you haven't been this sore since you were a recruit going through primary training.

You should get up. You really really should. But... ugh, Maker look at him. He's so tired and he took such astounding care of you last night. And all his sleepy self is doing is using your body like a pillow. If no one has come for you, couldn't you just lie here? Would that really be so bad?

Everyone was celebrating last night, maybe the entire base decided to have a lazy hangover day... unlikely. But hey, weirder things have happened on this base.

Fuck the bright light and the kriffing call time, you’re going back to sleep and meeting Poe on the other side of your respective dreams. You’re scrunching your eyes against the light when he "mmmmm"s into your neck and points his toes in a stretch, the action arches his hips into yours where Maker... he's hard in you. How did you not feel that as soon as you woke up? (the ten orgasms might have something to do with that- your latent nerves taking a fucking vacation after all that attention.)

Poe’s embrace tightens on you and he plants a warm sleepy kiss on your neck. His stubble tickles and you squirm a bit, dragging your nails up and down his wide warm back. Maker, did you actually DIE yesterday in battle and go to heaven?

"Morning, Ten." He bites your neck affectionately.

"Oh is that right? Morning, Hoe. I mean, Poe."

"Mmmm, Don't make me tickle you again." His voice is deep and rough and he demonstrates just how serious he is by moving his prickly chin back and forth on the softest part of your neck.

You whine and attempt to push his head and tickling chin away from you, but, Maker, you have zero strength this morning, the muscles in your forearms are protesting your escape attempt. Are your arms sore from gripping the bedsheets all night? Maker, you're going to be useless today.

He presses his hips more presently into yours and your hips rise to chase the sensation at the same time your head is trying to turn away from his hot tickling breath and whatever-the-fuck-o-clock shadow he's got growing on his stupidly handsome face.

"Did I really sleep in you all night, pretty girl?" He's not trying to tickle you anymore, his hips are moving as lazy as the day and his teasing has given way to hot breaths and licking bites on your neck. Much more pleasant.

You're still so sore, but he feels divine, and in a way the slow rubbing of his cock inside you feels like a massage to your overused pussy.

"Maker Dameron," you mmmm and squeeze his plump butt flexing under your fingers as he slowly fucks into you.

"You always this horny in the mornings?"

"mmmhmmm," His teeth scrape along your clavicle, "why do you think I make you go and get caf for me first thing?"

"What?!"

Poe chuckles into your neck before rolling his hips in a particularly deep fashion. Fuck.

"You heard me."

"Are you saying you-"

"Yes, Nine."

"Not every morning?"

He kisses your cheek before putting his forehead on yours, he gently removes his hands from under the pillow and plants them on either side of your head and just nods against your forehead. Maker, those eyes. Beautiful in the sparkling darkness, warm and loving in the midday light.

“Every morning since you moved in.” He punctuates his words with the rolling of his hips, his smile growing wider as the sentence grows longer.

You moan at the uptick in pace.

"Fuck! That's mmmm, that's why you're so happy when I come back with the caf."

"Mmmhmmm" He kisses your parted panting mouth. Maker his lips are so warm. "That, and getting to see your pretty face." He nuzzles his nose against yours and grinds up into you with a deep moan. "Fuck, baby. You'e so wet. Didn't let a bit drip out of you, did I?"

You whine under him as he crushes his lips on yours again. He's not wrong. You can hear how sloppy you are, his demanding hardness gliding easily through the hot molten center of you.

"You gunna come for me again, sweetheart? Hmm?" He's not mocking or goading, his face is earnest and raw and still retains the unbothered brow of his resting expression. Fuck, you love him.

"One condition."

"Anything, baby." he whispers against your lips, hips scooting deeply into you at the most perfect pace as your cunt clenches as best it can with the wrung out feeling you still have in every part of your body.

"mmmm, Poe uhhhhh, y-You're doing the caf runs from now on."

"Deal, baby, deal."

Maker you could've probably bargained anything in that moment and he would have said yes. True to your side of the agreement you bear down on him, your torso shooting up the small distance between you, clinging to every bare piece of him you can reach when you clench and cum on him. Fucking eleven.

Poe’s forehead is on yours again. Eyes clamped shut as he shakes and moans, flexing and spilling inside your already overfilled cunt.

“Oh shit, baby. Ohhh, fuck.”

Theres a sheen of sweat on his prickly upper lip that you taste when he presses his panting lips to yours.

He sinks back onto you, pinning you once again under his comforting weight. Breaths slowing as you kiss his musky, curly scalp.

“Fuck. We gotta open a window or something.” He laughs and blows a cool stream of air onto your sweaty chest.

“That’s nice. Why don’t you do that— open the window? And get us some caf while you’re up.”

“Mmmm, five more minutes.” He’s back to slumping on you and kissing your neck lazily.

As much as you love this, this new thrilling intimacy, you need water and a shower and caf. Desperately need caf. Poe knows how much you need it, you’re sure, but he’s playing with your hair and kissing your shoulder…. maker, is he eversatiated?

“Poe, you gotta get up. Please. And find out what happened to our call time.”

Poe's head shoots up out of its lazy position and he looks to the window and back to you with confusion.

“Its gotta be past midday.”

“Exactly!” You pat his shoulders, “Go. Go see what’s up.”

“Mmmm, but you’re so soft and you feel so good, baby. 5 more minutes. “ He sinks back into you again, resuming his hot lazy attentions to your neck.

“Poe!” You lift your neck slightly, he’s kissing your clavicle and soothing the tops of your arms with his fingertips. He’s making a very compelling argument for staying just where you are, 5-minutes after 5-minutes, and then some. But you really do have to get going. This isn’t your kriffing honeymoon, it’s a war. And being that it is a war, and that Dameron likes to play… you close your teeth gently around the cute little lobe of his frankly adorable ear and give it a soft tug, letting the soft skin slide through your teeth— like a playful puppy. Nothing mean.

Poe mmmmm’s into your neck. “Keep doing that, baby.”

Oh yeah?

You hesitate for a second, and you feel him grow harder once more. Then you lick his ear with a breath of hot air and take the lowest softest portion of it between your teeth and tug again.

“Ohhh, shit, honey.”

He’s not kissing your neck any longer, just breathing heavily as you nibble on his ear. Damn him. Is every morning going to be like this? Missing call times? Never extracting yourselves from each other. Maker, he’s still inside of you which means you’ve been fully one entity for half a fucking day-cycle… you’re not mad at it. Not at all. Not after all the time you’ve spent only nearly together— separated by bunks and clothes and your silly little fears.

His ear is a surprisingly pleasant sensation in your mouth too, and you can’t help but moan and lick at it. He does have cute fucking ears. Maker, everything about him is cute, if you had your way you’d lick and bite every inch of him, no matter the call time.

“Yeah, keep doing that, baby. Fuck. I’m getting hard again.”

“Poe…” you breathe his name into his ear and he, yep, he’s hard again, and rutting into you… again. He lifts the backs of your knees up with his forearms and guides your shins to lock behind him. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, the position this opens you up to, Maker… he’s in deep. He uses his hands behind his back to lock your ankles together because, shit, you’re for sure not able to navigate your own kriffing body right now. And thank the stars that he does, because you have no god damn strength to hug his hips with your thighs or even prop your legs up right now. This way you can still be limp while he rocks into you, in his signature deep style— no hammering, hardly thrusting, just fucking rocking into you, rubbing and pushing perfectly into everything. You can fucking feel how swollen you are down there, how insanely hot and slippery everything has become, the combined spend of your amassed activity is leaking down your crack and pooling underneath your hips. Thin blanket bunched behind you and impossibly wet. Fuck, you wouldn’t be surprised if it was all leaking out the bottom of your mattress and dripping on Poe’s bed at this point. Everything, absolutely everything from your hair to the sheets, to your palm on the damned metal rail you’re gripping on, is damp to downright soaked.

The combined sunlight and your hot bodies and breaths is creating the warmest fucking slick between your abdomens and Poe is just perfectly sliding up and into you in sensational deep strokes. He licks into your shaking mouth, and that same feeling you had last night about not knowing where you ended and he begain— well it’s back. His hand on your hip rubbing loving circles with his thumb, might as well be your own. His tongue writhes hot and strong with yours and, fuck , everything is so fucking slippery. You’re completely in camp Fuck The Calltime when he shifts his thighs closer and sinks even fucking further into the throbbing core of you.

Maker, your internal temperature can’t possibly be sustainable, but your body doesn’t even call out for a cool drink of water like it calls out for more of his heat. You need him, you need him, you need him just like this.

“Fuuuck,” your moan is weak and low, a lament and a joy. Your pussy is sucking him in. Shit, you’re so swollen and sensitive right now you swear you can feel every vein of him, can clock the nearly imperceptible way his cock gets slightly harder inside of you as he approaches his end. Maker can you even call it an “end” when it never fucking ends? He’s just going to keep doing this, rocking into your open wetness, you’re certain. He’s just going to keep going forever, keep you attached together and fuck you till all the fucking fluid leaves your body. Bastard. The thought only makes you hold him tighter. Fuck, he’s sliding on you and in you— so so so good. Maker, you bite his ear again when you cum. He groans low and pushes as deep as he can, pulsing in you, shaking and sweating. Fuck, his abdomen is nearly vibrating with the shakes of it as your pulsing cunt squeezes the cum out of him. Your breath is even hotter than it was a few minutes ago and you’re not sure how that’s possible, but you know it is because you’re breathing into Poe’s ear, his lobe let-free from your bite and the breath stays in front of your face, making you hotter and hotter. You might pass out from heat, and still your body, slut that she is, tilts your hips up by a nearly negligible degree, unwilling to have a single bit of space between you and Poe.

“Oh fuck… what are you doing to me, Dameron.”

Poe kisses your nose, “You mean besides making a total mess of your hair?” He grins at you and rubs his nose against yours, breathing heavy, slick abdomen huffing against yours. He rubs your noses together some more before notching it next to yours and gently kissing you with his sweet lips….and you can fucking tell he’s about to go boneless again on you and ask for another “5 more minutes” before “getting up”. Psssh. If by getting up he means “achieving an erection”, then yeah. A solid 5 minutes is apparently all he needs before he’ll be hard again, and fucking you into the mattress (waterbed) again. Maker, maybe that conversation you heard in the bathroom was meant as a cautionary tale. A fucking ghost story. “Don’t sleep with Commander Hot Ass, he’ll fuck you until you die of dehydration. On some nights around base, some say you can still hear the moaning wails of the women he’s boned to death.”

“Poe. Please. Please get up and get me some water. I feel like I’m about to die.”

Poe pushes up from you and groans when he slips out of you. Maker, what a weird fucking feeling to be empty after all that. He hops down from the bunk with surprising spryness for a man who just nearly fucking killed you with his dick.

“And open the window. Please. Our funk is probably leaking into the kriffing hallway.” You slide your palms down your torso and stars it feels like you just stepped out of the river with how soaked you are.

Poe laughs and hands you your water bottle.

“You think that’s why no one got us for call time? Because they knew we were busy?”

He kisses your forearm before going over to open the window and— oh kriffing hell.

Poe pantsless. Ass on display. Maker bless the galaxy on this glorious day. You’re about to take a sip from your bottle when the sight of his perfect rear-end stops you in your tracks. He slides the window open and the relief is immediate. Fuck. Fresh air. Poe extends his palm to the top of the sill and leans, staring out at the bright day. The view is one of the nicer one’s on base. Some foliage and even a little edge of the river in the background if you look from the right angle. There’s a little walking path nearby but it’s not rec time, so Poe just stands at the window, dick out to the fucking world, ass to you. Maker bless him. You sip on your water and take in the view. Heaven, absolutely. Poe fucked you till you died and now you’re in heaven.

You hardly even registered what he’d just said, your mind lagging understandably at the sight of Poe in all his naked glory.

“Oh, I really kriffing hope not.”

“Ashamed, Eleven? Or should I say, Twelve?” Poe turns his head and winks and you, the cocky bastard. You look around your cot for Bigsby, the attack reptile (plushie), to throw at him, but he’s all the way down on the bottom bunk and so you settle for rolling your eyes at Poe instead. You scoot up further on the bed, goo spilling out of your pussy in a tepid trickle.

“I’m not ashamed. Not at all.” You smile genuinely at him and your heart feels like it’s glowing in your chest when he turns to face you. He’s naked and you’re naked and you’ve never been this naked for this long with anyone before. And somehow you aren’t self conscious. Not even a little. You make no move to cover yourself with the damp sheet as Poe’s eyes softly rake up your body. You turn then, and let your feet dangle off the side of the bunk, letting him see all of you, swinging your toes contentedly, and taking another pull of water. You smack your lips and sigh and hand the bottle to Poe. Who must be fucking thirsty…. although he did drink quite a bit from you last night, so maybe not.

Poe takes the bottle from you and kisses your hand. Then your knees and dangling legs. Maker is he already ready for more?

“Poe… you know what I want?” You say with a teasing seduction, wiggling your toes as he bends to kiss the tops of your feet. He still hasn’t taken a sip of water when he replies.

“Oh yeah baby, I know what you want.” He trails his fingers up and down the backs of your calves.

“Mmmm? What do I want, flyboy?”

He drags his lips up your leg, tossing the water bottle onto his bed. And he kisses you, again… as if you could get enough. And you’re sure he’s going to tease you and tell you “You want lucky thirteen” but he surprises you when he breaks the kiss and nudges his nose against yours.

“You want caf. A tall cup of it. With a splash of sarlacc cream and one scoop of yyeger.” His eyes are crinkled with a smile and stars, he looks so handsome just wearing a smile, it’s fucking absurd.

“And..?” You hint.

“Jogan fruitcake if they have it.” Not exactly what you had in mind, but you do love Jogan fruitcake.

“And?” You continue, placing a kiss on his stubbly jaw.

“And…. Vakiir eggs? Scrambled?” He’s thinking about food. He must be hungry. You laugh against his neck.

“No.”

“What do you want?” He smooths your hair out of your face with his warm palms.

“To find out….” You lead.

“Call time! Yes. On my way.”

Poe snaps his fingers and gives you a quick peck on the lips before he steps off his bunk and starts getting dressed in his clothes from last night. It’s just as well, neither of you should put on clean clothing. You’re filthy.

Before he’s out the door, fully dressed, he steps back onto his bunk and gives you a real kiss. You almost, you nearly fucking almost invite him back up for one more round. But he breaks the kiss with an “I love you.” And yeah you know you’re silly stupid in love, but how can you kriffing not be? You grab him by the cheeks and plant a good one on him before telling him you love him too and, “I’ll love you even more with a caf in my hand, Dameron.”

He finally manages to leave and— maker, should you even be drinking caf at this time of day? You’ll be up all night if you do, it’s that kriffing late in the day. Up all night. Stars. The thought brings a smile to your face this time. It doesn’t mortify you with implication like it did only yesterday.

You take the linens from your bed and put them in the hamper. You’ll have to do laundry today. Not a problem since it seems like you’re completely off for the day. Or maybe you won't do laundry today. You wont need to if you sleep in the bottom bunk with Poe. Wrapped up in his arms and in the smell of his sheets. You'll probably have to rethink the bunkbed situation soon. As cozy as you love to be with Poe, it'd be a lot more practical to have a real adult couple bed. Maker, does he want to do that? Is that too fast? And then you laugh to yourself thinking 'it was too fast' when it took a fucking year to happen.

You’re showered and mostly dressed when Poe gets back with your tall cup of caf and your slice of Jogan cake. You take a sip and it’s perfect. Exactly how you make it yourself. Maybe even a little better, a tad sweeter. You give him a kiss and a thanks… you could get used to this. The thought makes your mouth too stretched out in a smile to properly kiss, and Poe eagerly tells you he discovered the mystery behind the call time.

Apparently Jess came to your bunk to check on you after she got back from the Cantina and heard… well. Something. You’re not sure what she heard. You doubt she told Poe, but the two of you made a lot of sounds last night, so the list of what it could have been is a long one.

You chew on your cake and sip your caf while Poe tells you all about how happy Jess is for you two and how she “knew it all along”. Sure. You shake your head fondly.

“Oh, that brings me to the call time— It was Jess! She got us out of it, figured we would want some 'time together'. ‘New couple stuff’ were her exact words.”

Couple. You and Poe. You nearly choke on a piece of jogan fruit.

“You don’t want to be a couple?” Poe's eyes are heartbreaking behind a casual façade. He picks at his thumb and walks over to the window, assuming the same stance as this morning. Or afternoon. You’re still not sure of the time. “That’s fine by the way, if you just wanted it to be a hookup, I— I get that.” He’s staring intently at the sliver of river and a nice breeze ruffles his sexed-up hair. He still needs a shower, forgoing it to get you caf and answers at your request. He tries to look relaxed, as if he’s just enjoying the breeze. He’s unaware of the way his shoulders flex defensively, in a dead-giveaway.

How? How can he possibly be self conscious? How can he possibly think that you don’t want to be with him? And last night, how could he ever think you’d be put off by him, or whatever the hell weird conclusions he came to… Maker. The most perfect friend, the most perfect teammate, and the most perfect (as it turns out) lover. And he’s self-conscious because he thinks that you don’t want to be a couple?

“Of course I want to be a couple.” You step right next to him, taking his hand in yours. “I wanna be the most obnoxiously couple-y couple that ever coupled.”

Poe's eyes flick to your entwined fingers and then your your face. “Yeah? Wear coordinating outfits and everything?” His toothy smile is absolutely contagious and you laugh a bit at the image. I mean you already both have orange jumpsuits, it wouldn’t be that hard.

“Yes. And be 8 hours late to absolutely everything because of you. Yes. I want it all Poe. Every cringey corny bit.”

He pulls you into a hug and his hands run down your back, stopping at your bum. “Can I call you aggressively sweet nicknames in public? Like, cuddle butt?” He squeezes for good measure and chuckles lowly at your squeal. You bring your hands up to twist in his passion-mussed hair.

“Only if I get to call you… honey booger. Or something— I’ll think of a good one.”

Poe snorts and that and shakes his head. “Deal.”

You kiss him, and his lips are so warm. Another breeze blows through the window and it smells like fresh water and heated greenery.

Poe rubs small circles on your on your lower back with his thumbs. “Mmmm can I kiss you in public?”

“I’d be offended if you didn’t, commander.”

“And talk baby-talk to each other?”

Oh maker, he's in a silly mood. He's not serious. This is his way of asking 'do you really want me?' without asking. And you do. You fucking do. Even if you have to tell him you'd do kriffing baby talk in front of the crew to reassure him.

You gasp. “We weren’t doing that already? Well then, we’d better to do extra baby-talk to make up for lost time.”

Poe laughs loudly, all trace of insecurity gone. He bends his knees slightly and grips you by the waist in the circle of his strong arms, picks you up and twirls you around in a hug. “Maker, we are going to be insufferable.”

You kiss his neck, leaving your lips there on the rough stubble when you say, “So… exactly how we’ve always been?”

“Yeah. I guess things won't change too much.”

#poe dameron x fem!reader #Poe dameron x you #Ozzie tag #Poe Dameron x reader #yes it’s technically a continuation of Nine but it can be read alone!#I just can’t leave these idiots alone

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