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#Poe Dameron reader insert
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Wasted On You
AN: No one asked for this but it came to me, and I wanted it so, hope y'all enjoy lol.
(Un-beta’d)
In which Poe is a handsy, overly-affectionate drunk.
Rated: M+ (this is smut so, i mean, you’ve been warned?) Words: 1,863 Pairing: Poe Dameron x F!Reader Warnings: alcohol consumption, kissing, frottage/thigh riding, semi-public sex, soft!Poe, sub!Poe (if you squint), fluff, PDA, cursing, Poe being the adorable menace that he is. AO3
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The spotchka sloshes out of your glass as you clink it with the others at the table, the sounds of raucous laughter and general gaiety filling the room as everyone celebrates the Resistance’s latest win. It’d been a big one, one that had been fought for long and hard; years of sleepless nights and an innumerable number of undercover missions later, it was finally over. Everyone was thrilled, of course, but none more so than Poe Dameron. 
You take a sip and smile as you watch him cheer, his elation and relief obvious. He’d been neck deep in the middle of it all as the General’s right-hand man, taking charge of at least a third of the missions that had gotten all of you to this point; if anyone deserved to celebrate, it was definitely Poe. 
It’s why you haven’t tried to pull him away yet, why you haven’t stopped him from drinking jet juice like it’s water. You know you probably should but…he’s just having so much fun, and you can’t bear to be the one that ends it. He’s definitely sloshed, laughing at the dumbest things and stumbling around like a baby that’s just learning how to walk. It’s been pretty amusing to witness, if you’re honest.  
You watch as the people he’s been speaking with move on, clapping him on the shoulder as they head toward another group that’s taken up residence in the back corner. Once he’s alone, he sits quietly, smiling softly to himself for a moment, before his brow suddenly furrows in confusion. He looks around, an exaggerated frown on his lips as he searches for something. When his eyes meet yours, his smile returns, wide and a little dopey, as he stands to his feet and unsteadily shuffles over. 
You chuckle when he plops down onto the chair beside you, his arm draping over your shoulders as he leans in so close, his nose bumps against your cheek. 
“There you are, sweetheart,” he drawls, his voice raspy from all the cheering and screaming. “I’ve been looking all over for you.” 
An involuntary shiver runs through you at the roughness of his voice, conjuring memories of the other times he’s sounded like this for you (his forehead pressed to yours, breath puffing against your lips as he pushes into you again and again—). He pulls you closer, his lips brushing your cheek as his other hand falls to your knee. 
“Maker,” he groans, kissing his way over your jaw toward your ear. “Baby, you smell delicious.” 
You tilt your head slightly to better accommodate him, your chuckle a little throaty. “I do?” 
He hums, pushing his nose against the side of your neck and breathing in deeply.  
You chew your lip, eyes darting around the room as he resumes kissing you, this time on your neck, the hand on your knee slowly inching its way up to your thigh. 
“Poe,” you warn, squirming a little in your chair as you halt his hand’s upward progression with your own. “We’re in public.” 
He grunts, nosing aside the collar of your shirt to nip at your collarbone. “So?” 
Your chuckle morphs into a whine as he worries a mark there with his teeth, arousal pooling in your gut at the mild sting. He groans into your neck when your fingers find their way into his hair, curling around the soft, thick strands. Gently, you pull him off of you, his eyelids heavy, mouth slightly agape as he stares at you. You’re not sure you’ll ever get used to the way he looks at you, so much unabashed love and adoration, so much want. Unable to resist, you lean in and kiss him softly on the lips. 
 As you pull away again, you say. “C’mon, flyboy, let me take you home.” 
The two of you say goodnight to everyone before stumbling from the cantina, Poe’s arm laid over your shoulders. Your arm wraps around his waist in an effort to keep him upright, only to have him lean heavily against your side, humming contentedly as he buries his face in your neck again. You manage to get him to the door just outside the living quarters hall before he starts trying to grope you, hand slipping not-so-stealthily toward your chest.  
“Stop it,” you chuckle, rolling your eyes as you swat his hand away. 
He snorts into your neck, his mouth once again exploring the area. “Stop what?” he asks between kisses, lips dragging over your skin. “‘m not doing anything.” 
You hum skeptically, pausing to key the entry code to the door. As you wait for it to slide open, he pulls your earlobe between his lips, his teeth nipping at the edges. Your breath hitches in surprise, and he must hear it because he smiles. You drag him into the hall once the door opens, silently thanking the Maker that everyone seems to still be out celebrating. 
Poe’s quarters aren’t far, and normally take just a few minutes to reach, however, what should be a quick trek is hindered by the fact that a certain drunk commander can’t seem to stop touching you. You fend him off without issue, though, biting back your laughter at the terrible pick-up lines he’s throwing your way. 
“You do know that I can’t carry you, right?” you tease, snorting as he knocks you into the wall with his weight again. 
He chuckles as he attempts to right himself, but only succeeds in making you even more lopsided. “I’m sorry, baby, I can’t help that I am trapped in the gravitational field of your smile.” 
You scoff, shaking your head fondly as you turn the corner to the hall that (blessedly) houses Poe’s quarters. “You’re an idiot.” 
He laughs again, and you grunt as he leans into your side yet again, his breath puffing against your cheek. “Yeah, but I’m your idiot.” 
It’s cheesy, but the truth of the statement makes something warm lodge itself in your heart all the same. 
You’re almost there, can literally see his door as you both plod awkwardly down the hall. He’s quieter now, but you’re so focused on getting him into his room, you don’t think to ask why.  
Without warning, he leans into you again, throwing you off balance and pinning you to the wall with his hips. Before you can scold him, he covers your lips with his own, stealing your words as well as the breath from your lungs. He tastes like a Keshian spice roll, sweet and a little tangy, and you melt into him, your fingers curling into his shirt to keep him against you. His tongue is warm, insistent, as it slides hungrily against yours, coaxing a soft moan from your throat.  
He sighs, grinding against you clumsily as he devours your mouth. His hands are everywhere; on your face, your hips, your ass, his strong fingers gripping and pulling, manipulating your body like he would his ship. You whine as he slots his thigh between your legs, pushing it up against your core, mumbling something about wanting to see you fall apart. You moan at the friction, canting your hips as he pulls his mouth from yours to groan into your neck. Your fingers weave into his hair as you both continue to grind against each other, the pleasure building steadily in your gut.  
“Poe,” you sigh breathlessly, eyes flying open when you remember where you are. “Baby, your room is right there.” 
He grunts in response, his mouth latching onto your neck.  
You open your mouth to respond, then promptly choke on a moan when he shifts his leg, the movement pressing the seam of your pants against your clit.  
“Maker, I love all the pretty, little sounds you make,” he slurs, voice raspy as he pulls back to meet your eyes. “You gonna come for me, sweetheart?” 
The greedy look in his eyes sends another jolt of pleasure through you, your breath hitching as you cant your hips, seeking your release.
“Poe,” you whine, telling him that you’re close (so close), that you just need a little more— 
He shushes you softly, pressing his forehead against yours, his own hips still rutting lazily against you, and when you come, he kisses you, swallowing your moans.  
The first thing you notice when you come back to yourself is that Poe’s rock-hard cock is digging into your hip. When you open your eyes, he’s watching you, his smile soft, eyes heavy-lidded, still blown wide with lust. 
That’s when you remember where you are. 
Shit.  
Panic slices through you as you wriggle in his hold, trying to push yourself off of the wall (and his thigh). You’re mortified—had anyone seen you? Had they heard? You groan (and not in the pretty way Poe likes), eyes darting around in search of any onlookers. Poe chuckles, nose nudging against yours as he tries to reclaim your attention. 
As you return your attention to your menace of a boyfriend, you can’t seem to stop the laugh that escapes you, clapping a hand over your mouth to stifle the sound. He laughs too, snorting when you place your other hand over his mouth. You smile at each other as your combined giggles subside, Poe’s eyes crinkling a little by his eyes.  
“Let’s get you to bed, commander,” you say finally, fingers toying with the curls at the base of his neck. 
He nods, a little glassy-eyed as he stares at you with a fondness and affection that makes your stomach flip.  
When you (finally) make it into his room, he attacks you with his lips again, licking into your mouth as his hands clumsily attempt to remove your clothes. He walks backwards, bringing you along with him as he untucks your shirt from your pants. You chuckle as he struggles with your belt, grunting in frustration when he can’t seem to get it unbuckled. He huffs after a moment, abandoning his attempts and slipping beneath your shirt instead.  
Suddenly, he grunts, tripping and falling heavily onto his bed and pulling you right along with him. You laugh softly, pushing yourself up on your forearms to look down at him; his eyes are glazed with want, dark curls splayed across his blanket in a messy halo, eyelids heavy. 
“Slow down, baby,” you whisper, smiling softly as you lean in to kiss him again. 
He melts into the mattress, moaning into your mouth as his hands slide up your back, hips pushing against yours. You grind down onto him slowly, gently, swallowing every sigh and whimper that falls from between his lips. He comes with a choked moan not long after, fingers digging into your skin as his hips stutter against yours. 
You pull back when you feel him sag in relief beneath you, your hands combing through his hair. His eyes are closed, body limp and heavy, and you realize—he fell asleep. You snort, smiling fondly at him before pressing a kiss to his forehead. As you try to slip from his hold though, he tightens his arms around you, murmuring softly for you to stay. 
Unable to deny him anything, you do.
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foxilayde · 2 years
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Nine [Poe Dameron x fem!Reader]
Warnings: *looks you dead in the eyes* Bitch if you only knew how long this has been in my drafts. Nearly two thousand words of cunnilingus, piv, one tickle fight, alien alcohol consumption, mixed metaphors, and the projection of sexual/emotional desires onto the best pilot in the resistance 18+ ONLY.
Summary: Idiots in love. You’re the idiot, mainly. You happen to hear something quite salacious about your bestie. And oooh boy, are you awful at keeping your shit together.
Word Count: 15.7K 
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There are some things you can’t unhear. Tidbits of information that just fuck your whole day up with the implications. Specific ideas or mental images, solicited or not, that take form in your brain and proceed to run through your mind like a fathier on a racetrack. Oh Maker, you wish you could unhear this conversation. Because you know, you know after hearing all that… you’ll never be able to look at Poe Dameron the same way again. At least not for a long, long time. 
You didn’t mean to eavesdrop. You really didn’t. You were in the stall peeing, minding your own business for Maker’s sake and they just happened to come in and have this conversation. This was on them, not on you. What were you supposed to do? Cover your ears and hum to yourself? Bolt out of the toilet without washing your hands? 
You were just having a normal, routine, piss in the cantina bathroom- spotchka going right through you, as per usual… and that’s when you heard them. Maker, you wish you’d never heard them. 
Voices coming from the sink area.
“What are you getting all dolled up for, Tella? Got a hot date tonight?”
“Ha! Hoping to! I’ve been trying to get Commander Hot Ass’s attention all evening.”
Commander Hot Ass? Is that what the recruits were calling Poe now? You snort a silent laugh as you wipe and stand up, pulling up your pants and checking your pockets to make sure you hadn’t dropped any loose credits on the stall floor. You shake your head smiling. Poe will be thrilled to hear that. Commander Hot Ass. Ha! You put your hand on the handle to flush but are stopped by the next words.
“Been there, done that, babygirl.” 
Oh… really? Your eyes go wide. You don’t want to flush to alert them to your presence, but you also don’t want to hear this… do you? No, of course not. Of course you don’t want to hear these girls discussing your commander, your best friend, your kriffing roommate like this…. Do you? You lift your hand from the handle and sit down on the seat once again… curiosity, admittedly, getting the better of you. It couldn’t hurt to just let them have their conversation, right? In fact, it would be rude to interrupt them. You bend down to scan the underside of the stalls to your left and right. Empty. Just you and Tella and…. Who’s is that other voice? She sounds familiar…
“Ohhh, you and the commander, huh?”
“Yep, just once. A while back. We didn’t date or anything. Just one night.”
You can hear the pride in her voice and the subtext of, “go on, ask me. Ask me how it was.” Whose voice is that? It sounds so familiar…. You know what? Doesn’t matter! Not your business. Oh Maker this is bad, you definitely shouldn’t be listening to this…
“How have you never mentioned this before!? Quinn! I want details! How was it?”
Quinn, huh? Quinn Penly? Hot Quinn Penly? The one with the gorgeous hair and the perfect tits?! That Quinn Penly?? Certainly sounds like her voice. Your face starts to burn and your fingernails dig into your clothed knees. 
Woah, Get a grip, girl. Why the hell is your heart racing and why, maker, why is your kriffing face getting hot?
“Well…”
You can hear the fucking smirk in her voice. She was going to play all coy as if to say “oh I don’t want to say, but since you asked…” fucking Quinn Penly. Wait, where is this hostility coming from? You don’t hate Quinn. She’s fine. Always casually pleasant to you. Get. A. Grip.
“Best I’ve ever had.”
“So, you’re saying you guys…?”
“Oh yeah. All. Night.”
“Really?”
“Dameron’s got stamina, Tella. If you’re trying to hit it, you’d better caf up first. He broke my record.”
Record? Broke her record? What the hell does that mean?
“Broke your record?” 
Thank you, Tella. Asking the important questions. On your behalf. Oh maker you are not even pretending not to listen at this point, ears strained to catch every sound, you swear you can even hear the lipstick being applied to their gossipy mouths.
“You know. My record. For how many times… you know…” 
You did not know but you could fucking guess.
“Oh! You mean…” Tella’s voice lowered, “orgasms?”
Oh maker, Quinn, please don’t answer that, please walk out of this bathroom and never ever answer that question. Let me wash my kriffing hands and live my life without this information, for stars sake.
“It was Five. Until Dameron. Now it’s Nine.”
You can’t see them, there is nothing to look at from where you’re sitting. But that doesn’t stop your eyes from going wide, and boring into the metal latch of the stall door. Maker. Nine?
“Nine?! You’re joking.”
“Uh-huh. Truth. And that was just with his tongue, too.”
Just with his… 
“You’re serious?”
“Oh yeah. Eats it like he’s starving. Wouldn’t stop until I begged him to.”
The images are pouring in now. Poe, in your top bunk, between your legs, mouth dripping with lust, just devouring- No. Stop. Nope. Nope. Lalalalalala think of something else. Anything else. Goodness, couldn’t these two have checked to make sure there was no one else in here before saying… well, THAT?
“So you’re saying I should go for it? Try and talk up the commander tonight? See if he can break my record?”
It is embarrassing how hard you are hanging onto every word, trying to breathe quietly so you won’t miss a single syllable. Even if every single word is making your stomach turn.
“I would say you should, but he hasn’t hooked up with anyone in months. That I know of.”
“Really? Why would he be depriving the female population of the resistance like that?” Tella laughs.
“I’m pretty sure it’s got something to do with his roommate, you know, that cute mechanic girl that follows him like she’s his droid. I think they’re dating, but they’re kind of low key about it, they never kiss or hold hands in public or anything.”
Well shit, you’ve sealed your fate, now you can’t, simply CAN’T come out of this ladies room until well after they leave. They’re talking about YOU. Oh maker, this kriffing stall is like a prison cell. How did this turn onto you? Dameron supposedly hasn’t pulled in months and a-fucking-parrently its  because you two were dating?? What in the kriff? Is this what people thought?? And you do NOT follow him around like a droid… do you? Sure, you service his ship… and you’re best friends…. And you did come with him to the cantina tonight…. But you’re your own person. You’ve got an autonomous life, dammit. 
Well now you know why they say what they say about eavesdroppers. Maker blind you. Kriff.
“Yeah, I have seen them together. Just figured they were friends. I didn’t know they shared a room. Lucky girl. She probably has something against PDA.” 
What?? Maker, make this stop. Okay, well they’re not wrong about sharing a room, but it just makes SENSE since you keep the same schedules and you know your way around his droid and his ship and… dammit, maybe they have a point. The only other friends you have are Poe’s friends, and your schedule is undeniably dictated by his training and missions…. Still, whatever!! They don’t know shit, okay. 
“She must have restraint made of durasteel, because you’d never be able to stop me from squeezing that ass.”
Quin and Tella laugh together in agreement, the sounds of it fading as they exit the ladies room. You think you can hear Tella saying “Maker, 9 times. Well then I have to shoot my shot!”
 You put your palms over your eyes in an attempt to block out the visions invading your brain. The darkness of your shared chambers, too many limbs enclosed in the bottom bunk… No! Closing your eyes just makes the visuals more clear. So you choose to stare at the metal latch in front of you instead.  Nine times? Nine kriffing times? This shouldn’t matter, right? Just disregard it. Theres nothing to see here, folks, you’re just going to go right back out to that cantina and resume your usual spot… next to Poe “the tongue” Dameron like you never heard that. You’re going to sip spotchka, you’re going to celebrate your kriffing VICTORY and, you’re going to get that fucking look off your face.
You give it another full minute before leaving the stall. To, you know, make sure they didn’t forget a lipgloss on the counter and come back. Yeah. Not to delay the inevitable. Not at all. Get a grip, Nine. Oh maker. Your name. Your fucking name is NINE. Not your given name, obviously, but your callsign. Black Mech Nine, BM9 for roll and just “Nine” to everyone on base. Fucking great. You’ll be helpfully reminded of Quinn’s record breaking cum-fest every time someone says your name. Brilliant. 
You meet your own eyes in the mirror and wash your hands at the sink.  Cool, cool, be cool. You splash a little water on your face and point a finger at yourself. 
“You are going to go back out there and pretend like you never heard Quinn Penley. Got it? Not your business. Good.” You sniff and adjust your shirt. You are fighting a war for fucks sake, you’re in the Resistance! You could handle carrying this knowledge about Dameron. You could.
You can’t.
“Nine!! Over here, we got a booth!” Snap shouts over the loud music and you weave your way though fellow Resistance folks out celebrating a well earned battle victory. Carefree smiles and clinking drinks, even a toydarian DJ at the little stage, playing a Huteese song with a low thrumming bass. Poe is standing at the edge of the booth, he’s in the middle of a toast, glass raised in the air, when you reach the table. He stops his speech to put his arm around your shoulders. 
“And give it up for Nine! The best damn mech I’ve ever met. Could make a blaster out of the belly of a compacter droid. We’d be fucking stardust without her…. I know I would!” He’s drunk. Not wasted, but a little drunk. Drunk to the point of dishing out warm compliments for the whole room to hear. He smiles at you with such a Poe-ness and grips your shoulder. Maker damn you. The rest of the table raise their glasses and whoop in agreement.
“To Nine!” Jess cheers and takes a sip of her shooter of bright blue spotchka. The rest of the table follow her lead and Poe lets go of your shoulder to push a shot of the same into your hand. 
The resounding chant of “Nine” from the table. Every time someone addresses you, your heart is going to stop dead, you’re sure of it.
“Sit, sit!”  He gestures to the edge of the booth and you take your seat next to Jess, Poe sliding in right after you so you’re crammed between them. You stare at your drink for a moment too long while you try to remember to breathe like a human fucking being. 
Poe clinks his shot glass to the one resting in your beleaguered hand, “bottoms up, troublemaker.” 
You take a deep breath and luckily you think you pass off the act with preparing for more booze. The shot could only help your nerves at this point. You might even want to ask for another round. Maker, why are you so worked up? Because you learned something intimate about Poe? Is this how a normal best friend would behave upon learning this information about their buddy?? What if it had been Snap’s name you heard, and not Poe’s? What if Tella was planning on taking a ride on Snap’s face tonight? Would you be having a nervous fucking breakdown? Would you still be this flustered? 
You don’t want to answer that but…. You suspect not. If they’d been gossiping about Snap in the fresher, you would have come back to the table with NEWS. You would have interrupted Poe’s speech and told every kriffing member of the squad, given Snap hell for being a notorious Casanova, and shoved his ass in Tella’s direction with a breathmint. Which is how you should be treating Dameron right now, you KNOW that’s how you should be treating him. Like a pal, giving him a ribbing for making the ladies fawn over him. But you don’t. You do not treat him like that. You sit next to him like a weird little nervous monkey, which is just not like you. 
You down your shot and you hope no one asks you anything directly as you try, maker you try, to mentally go back to 10 minutes ago before you knew…. Before you knew all about Dameron and his unholy mouth with it’s magical orgasm powers. 
With all of the hyperspace capabilities at any pilot’s fingertips, there has to be some kind of machine than can take you back to a time where you didn’t know about this, right? Some sort of worm hole you can jump through and be the version of yourself that existed just ten measly minutes ago; blissfully unaware of the prowess of Dameron’s tongue. Kriffing hell. 
Poe is pushed up cosy and firm to your left side, his right arm resting on the top of the booth behind your head. Fuck, he smells like leather and soap. He’s freshly shaven and his teeth look so perfectly imperfect and pearly white with every animated word he delivers across the table to Snap and the squad. Damnit. Damn him. He’s so charming and brave and …fuck! Your stupid heart is skipping beats and if you don’t start breathing normally soon, someone is going to notice.
You make a point to stay in the moment. Get your head in the game. Just like battle. You can dwell on this shit later. Later. For now, just sip your drink, enjoy your team’s victory and calm the fuck down. You might want to start with actually listening to the story Dameron is telling.
You get your shit together infinitesimally and lean back in an imitation of a relaxed pose. This puts the back of your head on Dameron’s forearm and you try not to think about how warm and strong his forearms are while you take the offered fizzy cocktail from Jess and sip the citrusy concoction. 
Dameron is giving a play by play of the mission from earlier, waving his left arm animatedly, describing how he and Snap took out at least 8 tie fighters with consecutive shots. 
“It was just so satisfying you know? One right after the other. Bam, bam, bam!” Poe slaps his hand joyfully on the table. 
Oh holy Maker, was this how it was going to be forever? Literally everything sounding like an innuendo? 
“Clean victory today, no losses” Snap agrees. “We needed that today.”
“Great flying out there today, commander.” Your eyes go wide and you nearly sputter and choke on the foamy beverage in your mouth. You should have known you’d be witness to this. She had said she was going to make her move tonight, didn’t she?
The voice was coming out of the freshly lipsticked red mouth of one Tella Zagley. 
Poe turns to face her, as does the rest of the table. 
“Thanks…” he sounds a little confused, letting the word linger as if he’s trying to place her.
Her fingernails match the color of her lips and she brings her hand to his bicep. She scratches him lightly in what most might call a very over-the-top, I-want-you-to-rail-me fashion. She pops her hip and bites her lip “Maybe you can take me flying sometime, hmmm?” 
Oh maker, is she serious? You don’t want to blame a girl for trying, and you certainly aren’t slut shaming, but kriff, Tella. Put some subtlety on it. Who knows, maybe this works for her. Maybe thats the exact pickup line that would make Dameron weak. You don’t know. You’ve certainly never tried. 
Poe laughs a little and says, “Oh yeah? Don’t you think it’d be a little crowded in the x-wing? It’s only got one seat.” 
She shrugs, focusing her eyes on the fingernails tracing his bicep through his shirt. “It’ll be a tight squeeze, but I’m sure we can manage.” 
You turn to Jess and share a look over the respective rims of your drinking glasses. For a second time this evening you pretend that you can’t hear Tella’s conversation that is happening right in front of your face. Is he- Is he falling for this? Is he into this? Tight squeeze? Blagh! Why doesn’t she just lick his face? It’d be more ambiguous. 
“You know what, Tanya? I am sorry, but I really don’t think I’d be able to take off with you on my lap.” 
You snort into your drink and try, unsuccessfully, to play it off as a cough.
Tella narrows her eyes at you, scoffs at Poe and she’s off, successfully shot down. 
“What’s up with her?”
“Her name is Tella, not Tanya.” 
Poe cringed, “That was kind of mean, but I couldn’t resist the opportunity, do you think I should apologize?”
You shrug at him.
He turns toward the direction of her departure and yells “sorry, Terra!” 
You slap his chest and hiss “Tella, you doofus!”
“Well shit, guess I wont be getting a tight squeeze after all.” He laughs and you roll your eyes. Luckily the music is loud and its doubtful she heard any of that. 
“Please don’t say ‘squeeze’ ever again. I’m fucking traumatized- I’ll never look at a citrus the same way.”
Poe snatches the wedge of citrus fruit from the rim of your cup and squeezes it into the glass. 
“You mean like this? Like tight squeeze like this?” He stretches out the word squeeze as the liquid squirts into your cup. His eyes are tight and smiling, tipsy and teasing. 
You shriek and slap his chest, “You’re disgusting!”
Poe cackles deviously and absentmindedly brings the rind of the fruit to his mouth to lick the pith like a filthy fucking animal, he brings it up to cover his mouth lengthwise and licks and sucks the fucking juice out of it with an obscene slurping sound. He closes his eyes and treats that rind like a third date, holy. shit.
Well.
You cant exactly help the way your jaw nearly drops to the tabletop. He “mmmm”s and sets the rind down on his napkin, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. He looks over and you and catches your dumbfound expression. 
“What? Do I have something-“ he wipes his mouth up and down, furrowing his eyebrows at you. “Did I get it?”
You’re lagging in response. Like someone just turned you on and is waiting for you to warm up. Well, thats a thought. 
He’s still wiping his mouth and you shake your head to rattle your brain loose. “You got it, you got it, it’s gone.” 
Maker, what he did to that rind was probably considered a proposal on certain planets. And he just did it like it was the most natural thing in the world. It wasn’t even the thing he did to tease you. He squeezed the fruit to tease you, he then licked all the insides, not as a part of the teasing, but…. Because that’s just what he wanted to do. You’re forgetting to breathe all over again and your face is getting hot staring at the tongue scraped peel that lies satiated on the napkin. 
The rest of the evening at the cantina goes better than you think it would. True, you couldn’t look Dameron in the eye, and there was also the incident where he clapped you on the shoulder when he returned from the bar to deliver a fresh round to the table and you flinched so hard you nearly knocked Jess’s drink out of her hand. 
“You okay, Nine?” Nine. Fucking nine. Nine fucking times.
You have never been spazzy like this before and there’s no reason for you to be behaving this way, you’re all supposed to be celebrating for Maker’s sake. Indulging in the lack of enemies, not on high alert in the anticipation of attack behind every corner.
“Yeah, I’m fine, Jess. Feeling a little bit ill, sorta. Also tired. I think, I dunno. I’m going to head to bed though, so,” you nudge Dameron’s thigh with your own. “Move it, flyboy.” 
“Those shots are going right through you, huh?” He laughs. Standing up, shot in hand, ready to take it with the table. 
“I’m not peeing,” you wince, horrified at the idea of going back to the bathroom, to the scene of your mental unraveling. “I’m leaving. Going to bed.”
The grin drops from his face, and his eyes round concernedly. “You okay Nine? The party’s just started. And, I’m not trying to hold you to anything, buuuut you did say you could beat me at darts and I see a game opening up right now. Whatcha say, one more drink, one round of darts, Nine?”
“Maker, don’t CALL me that right now!” You shout it frustration. 
Poe’s eyes go wide “Hey hey hey, I’m sorry. If you wanna go to bed, I’m not going to stop you. Just wanted to make sure-“ 
“Its-“ you sigh “Its fine Poe. I’m fine, just really need some rest.” You bump him on the chest with your fist and turn to leave. He grabs your arm. 
“Let me get my jacket and I’ll walk you back.”
“Poe, enjoy the party. I’ll be fine.”
“Stay here, I’m getting my jacket.”
What is the point in leaving to get away from him if he’s just going to follow you back to your room? You use the two seconds of time between him holding your arm and coming back to think of an excuse, any excuse to get away from him. You contemplate just turning and leaving, but before the thought even forms, he’s got your arm in his and you’re leaving the Cantina, heading back to base. 
“Poe, you really don’t have to-“
“I know I don’t have to, but I’m not letting you stumble back in the dark. Plus, I’m tired too. We’ve got a 10am call time and if I don’t leave now, I’d probably fall asleep in the booth.”
He chuckles, obviously hoping you’d clear the air with some laughter of your own. But all you can think about is your arm in the crook of his elbow and how perfectly his steps fall with your own. 
“Did you leave your jacket in there? We can head back-“
“No, I didn’t bring one.” The admission sends goose pimples down your bare arms and Poe unlocks his hold on your arm to put his jacket over your shoulders.
“Thanks,” you mutter. His jacket still retains the heat of him and it smells like him. Like blaster residue and engine oil, like floral soap from Nevaroo and a hint of sweat. You shake a little and its nothing like the shiver of cold you felt moments ago.
You can see the lights of the base from where the trees clear in the distance and its not long at all until you’re on the familiar dirt path to your home away from home. 
Poe hums to himself, one of the songs that was playing this evening. You’re surprised that you recognize it. He hums and whistles to himself somewhat frequently in your down time. The sounds that might annoy you coming from anyone else are always comforting coming from him. They’re the sounds of peace and contentment; feelings that are largely hard to come by in the midst of a war. You lean your head on his shoulder when you reach the entrance, winding through windowless tunnels. The life that usually sprinkles the base is quiet, mostly everyone is still celebrating and you feel guilty for dragging Poe away from the ruckus. 
When you finally reach your bunk hallway he squeezes your hand in the junction of his elbow with an unnecessary tightness and hisses, “tight squeeze!” 
You can’t help but snort at the reference and he lets your arm go completely to punch in the key code. “I knew I could make you laugh!” 
You get inside and turn the lights on manually, the door swoops and clicks closed behind the two of you. You hang up Poe’s jacket on the usual hook behind the door.
“Sooo, you going to tell me whats wrong?” Poes arms are crossed, Linen shirt unbuttoned and sleeves rolled up, he quirks a brow and tilts his head for you to answer. 
You bend over to unbuckle your boots, shaking them off your feet and placing them in their usual spot by the door. Maker its so hard to look at him. “Nothings wrong, Poe.”
“Bantha shit.” 
“Poe, please just drop it.”
“Why don’t you want me to call you ‘Nine’?” His hands prop on his hips and his face gives you that look. He knows theres a mystery to be solved and he’s too stubborn to drop it. Maker how did he catch that? Well, you did sort of… shout that he should stop calling you that. Shouted. Kriff. You thought you could blame this all on Quinn and Tella, but if the truth comes out which it will most certainly not, you’ll have no one to blame but yourself. 
You can tell your silence is irking him a bit. He taps his foot impatiently, “You were fine when we were walking over there! Something happened,” he narrows his eyes and wags a finger at you. “Something happened between the time we went into the Cantina and the time you came back from taking a leak and I want to know who I have to blame for that.” 
Maker, was he pretending to be drunk earlier? Were you really that bad at hiding your distress? At this rate he’ll detective his way to the answer before midnight. 
“Speaking of taking a leak” You grab your nightclothes and go to the tiny fresher attached to your room and close the door behind you. You splash water on your face and change quickly, but still stand in front of the mirror for a few dead moments. Don’t tell him, just don’t admit it! It’s that fucking easy. There’s no way for him to know as long as you don’t tell him. And how in the hell are his detective skills really THAT GOOD? He was tipsy! The fact that you're apparently so easy to read is a forceful blow to your ego- you had indeed been as transparent as you dreaded. 
You can’t stay in the tiny fresher forever. You sigh and go back out into the room. Poe hasn’t budged an inch. Hands still on his hips, he’s not even getting ready for bed yet. Boots still on, holster and blaster still in place. Probably because he isn’t kriffing tired. Neither are you, though. It was all pretense, just to get away from it and run scared. Maker, you’re not a fighter, you’re not built to put up defenses and find an opening- and the way he’s trying to breach your perimeter is leaving you feeling outnumbered though it’s only one on one. You’re a helper, not some kind of hero. You love that about him, his bravery, but why is this so terrifying? The air in the room is tense and the buzzing of the warm yellow light from your lamp sounds so fucking loud right now. Even his stare seems to have a volume to it and you want to put your hands over your ears and tell him to 'shut up’ even though he isn’t saying anything at all. You toss your dirty oil stained clothes in the hamper and fold your vest to put in your tiny drawer next to your shared bunk. 
“I’m not going to drop this, so you might as well tell me now, Nine.” He emphasizes your name and you cringe. 
“I really wish you would drop it, commander.” Using the same emphasis on his title that he used on yours. That’s a tactic, you guess. Be a child about it. Nothing could go wrong with that big-brained maneuver. 
“Poe, I know you’re worried about me, I know you feel some kind of responsibility for me, but just trust me when I say I’m fine and I’d rather get ejected into dead space without a helmet rather than tell you what’s going on so, please, as a friend, if you care about our friendship, please drop it.”
You know it’s a low blow, to put the qualification of being a good friend on leaving you alone. Especially since the exact opposite is true. The fact that he cares so much, that he’d leave the party, his celebration party, to walk you back and patiently watch you throw a petulant little fit— it’s a testament to the depth of his caring for you. He’s still dressed even, probably in case he needs to go rough someone up for making you upset. And he would, with just a name- he would.
But all the pity in the fucking galaxy couldn’t make you open your mouth, you’re not even sure if you could form the words in front of him if you wanted to. What would you even say? ‘Well I’m feeling really antsy learning that I’ve been sharing a bunk with a sex god and I think I might have a crush on you and P.S. Quinn Penly isn’t even that cute when you think about it!’
“Scuse me”, you say instead, as you step around him to get to the ladder to your top bunk.
“Oh no, little girl. You’re not getting off that easy.” His tone is a mixture of amusement and frustration, but he doesn’t move to stop you from crawling into bed and getting under the thin blanket. Your head is on the pillow and you face the small room. Poe’s height is just so, that it matches up his face perfectly level with yours. Maker, you were trying to get away from him, so why is he right here?
“What are you going to do? Stand there all night and watch me sleep?” You scoff.
“That’s exactly what I’m going to do, Nine.” He plants his booted feet at the floor, shins touching the side of his bunk probably, judging by the way his chin is practically resting on the corner of your pillow. “I know torture tactics, you know.” 
“You gunna torture me?” You challenge half heartedly. 
“Course not. Don’t be stupid, but I am going to stand right here until you tell me what it is.” 
“Suit yourself” you turn over. Maybe if you pretend to sleep, he’ll get bored. Ha, that might work on Jess maybe, but Poe? Fat chance. 
“Nuh uh”, forcing his hand on your shoulder, he turns you around. “Here’s what I know already, I know it happened tonight, I know it has something to do with “nine”, and I know you’re crazily embarrassed to tell me. Does it have something to do with me?”
“Fuck! Please stop guessing!”
“That’s a yes.”
“Drop it, Dameron!!” You insist through clenched teeth. 
 “Oh maker, you’re really embarrassed. Nine! Is it something you did?”
“No!"
“So it is about me. “
“How-wha—No! No more clues, no more guessing. Don’t you have a war to fight or something?? Don’t worry about it. Everything is going to be fine. I am fine, you are fine and just, gah! Drop it!”
How the fuck is he doing this, how can he read you like this, like a fucking book, all open and fluttering with every word of your secret shame stamped on the surface of your skin. People truly don’t give him enough credit. Those who don’t know him well assume he spent all his luck points on flying acumen and good looks- but he can be observant when he wants to be. Very observant as it turns out. Maker, he’s fucking annoying. 
Poe’s eyes light up like a damn supernova at your outburst and his mouth turns devious. You know that look. That’s the same fucking look he had on his face when Snap bet him he couldn’t do a triple spin through the crater on Bespin in that fucking joke of a tanker ship. Goddammit. This was a competition in his mind. To make you crack. And you’re hardly a fortress of durasteel. You’re more like limpest crepe paper, without enough tensile dignity to even mark the finishing line of a footrace. 
“Oh you’re going to tell me.”
Your face crumples in, brow wrinkling and you put your face directly onto the pillow, perhaps you can cut off enough oxygen like this and pass out, therefore making it impossible to speak and unleash stupid fucking bathroom sink secrets. You pull the blanket up over your head as an additional barricade, calling in the reinforcements- because all he has to do is poke a finger through your barely-there shields and he’d have it. You know at some point he’s going to get what he wants, because he’s Poe stinking Dameron and he’s never looked this stupidly thrilled at the prospect of winning anything. 
“Can you at least tell me why you don’t want me to know?” His tone doesn’t match the grin you shielded yourself from, he sounds quiet and he places a comforting palm on the mound of you-shaped blanket that is your shoulder.
“Hmm?” His tone caught you so off guard that you didn’t quite understand the question.
“So far I haven’t been given a compelling argument on why exactly I shouldn’t make you tell me what’s bugging you.” He drums his fingers on your huddled shoulder. “Hey, I’m a fair guy. Some might even say reasonable, level-headed, calm, soothing—“
“Ha!”
He lets out a breath of tired amusement. “Nine, I didn’t want to have to break out the big guns but… I actually wasn’t kidding about those torture tactics.”
You pull the blanket down your face and peek one eye out from behind the blanket. His expression is somber with an exaggerated frown and he nods. 
“No” you warn. He wouldn’t.
“Oh, Yes. I’m afraid, yes. You leave me no choice. My hands are tied.” He brings up his hands to the level of his face so that you can see them. “Or are they… very much not… tied?” His eyes go wide, his fingers take on a menacing claw-rigidity and you scream while you scramble to fully cocoon yourself in the blanket. 
“You’re really going to resort to this huh?! Lower than Correlian street fighter tactics, I’m disappointed in you, Damerooon!” Your words emerge in stilted shrieks, you twist away as best as you can against the feel of his scuttling fingers making pinching contact with the sides of your ribs, up your armpits  and to whatever part of your neck he can reach through the blanket. He’s going to tickle the truth out of you. Maker, he’s really 5 years old, isn’t he?
You kick and try to twist away from him, but there’s nowhere to go, even if you were to leave your little cocoon, he’s towering over you now, standing on his bunk, blocking any chance of an exit. He’s pinned both of your knees with one hand and and is targeting that spot on your ribs that makes you helplessly kick your feet and fruitlessly attempt to shove at his shoulder.
“Ahhhh! Bastaaard!” You scream with a higher pitch than is normal. Poe chuckles darkly, gritting his teeth and zoning in on your neck now. 
“I will ahhh!! I will bite you!” 
“I’d like to see you try!” He singsongs through gritted teeth with the effort of pinning your jerking legs.
“Ah-haaahuuuhaaa!! Okay oKAY! I- Maker- I will tell you just STOP!”
Poe settles his hand on your clavicle and pats it, giving a very satisfied smile. 
“Was that really so hard?”
“Unfair.”
“Desperate times called for desperate measures.”
You remove your hands from the junction of his shoulder and smooth your hair out of your eyes. He’s still standing on his bunk and you can see all of him from the waist up, his hand doesn’t leave your blanket-bound knees, but he does release some of the pressure. He looks at you expectantly, eyebrows raised. The bastard fights dirty.
You groan, “you’re really not going to drop this, are you?” 
He gives you an ‘are you fucking kidding me’ look and shakes his head, “Duh. I can, and will, do this all night.”
“Fuck” you grumble. Why did he have to fucking phrase it like that?? All night. Just like Quinn said. Merciless. 
Poe takes a deep breath and raises his face to the ceiling. 
“Me and you, we don’t keep secrets from each other, ‘kay? It’s bad for business.” He looks at you seriously now, eyebrows knitted together in concern, “What are you so afraid of?”
“I’m-“ you want to defend that you are, in fact not afraid, thank you very much… but you are. You are afraid. There’s no going back to the way things are if you tell him the the thing you don’t want to tell him. It’s not a physical change- it’s a chemical reaction. It’s not like adding salt to water, where you can separate the two later, it’s like mixing hydrochloric acid and sodium hydroxide, forever altering the state of the matter. Because it’s not just about the thing that you overheard, it’s the context that he now has. How much you’re fighting trying to keep this information to yourself, you’re resisting the combination and making the forthcoming reaction that much more volatile. 
“Tell me. Please. You can trust me.”
Of course you can trust him. It breaks your heart a little that he even has to remind you. And you cant live like this forever, trying to scoop out acid with one hand and a base with the other and holding them behind your back; all the while acting like they aren’t melting your fucking skin off. 
“Ill tell you.”
“Attagirl!”
“But- could you, like, lie down in your bunk while I tell you, please. I don’t think I can literally face you right now.”
Poe shrugs his shoulders and steps off his bunk. He disappears from sight and you stare up at the ceiling and try to reign in your pounding heart. Maker. 
His bed squeaks softly beneath you.
“I’m laying down. This had better be good.” 
You put your palms up to your eyes but when you do you’re assaulted by the image you had earlier in the bathroom of Poe, hot and ravenous between your legs. Fuck. Bad idea. You stare at the grey ceiling instead, eyes unfocused. 
“I don’t even know how to start.”
“Considering the awkward setup, I think you can start with ‘forgive me father, for I have sinned’” 
You take Bigsby: your stuffed reptile, and swing him harshly under the bed where it softly thunks against Poes guffawing chest. 
“You’re not funny, Dameron.”
“Aww, c’mon. Tell me, my child.”
You grit your teeth. Moment of truth. This is the only logical path here now. You think, for a few seconds; that you could lie to him. Your brain is screaming at you to lie… but he’d know, wouldn’t he? If you were to lie, you’d have to think up something outrageous and fictitious and innocent on the spot… Maker, there’s nothing. Nothing at all. And you owe it to him. You owe him the truth. He’s right. You don’t keep secrets from each other. It’ll be a leap of faith, of course. You feel like you’re standing on a precipice about to hurl yourself blindly into something deep and terrifying, no chute no cord, but how scary could it be? Poe is there, somewhere in the recesses of the void with his arms outstretched telling you ‘everything is going to be fine. Just jump.’
You inhale deeply, grateful for the lack of him staring directly at you.
You lie there for a few more seconds, simply luxuriating in the peace of being Poe’s best friend. You don’t know what will come after this, but good or bad, it’ll never be the same. Poe doesn’t urge you along, he’s quiet and you wonder if he’s got his eyes closed in frustration or if he’s staring at your mattress above him, sending you encouraging thoughts with his sweet intentions. 
“You can do it.” He says simply. 
The second one then. Of course. You smile.
“You promise not to make fun of me too much?”
“Uhhh…. No.”
“Poe!”
“I’m kidding!” He taps the bottom of your mattress, “I will make fun of you just the right amount.”
You roll your eyes. Bastard thinks he’s real funny.
“So funny that I forgot to laugh.”
“Oh come on, of course I’m not going to make fun of you. Not only will I not make fun of you, I will never tell you how silly I think you’re being for doing this whole thing. No matter how unnecessary and downright adorable it may be. Ever. I will never- not in a million years, mention what a total goober you’re being-“
“Oh KAY! I get it!” 
Poe chuckles softly to himself and you follow too, bed creaking faintly from your incredulous fit of giggles. I mean, look at you, you made him lie down so you could tell him this dumb thing you overheard in the bathroom, and you’re not even telling him.
“I’m being silly. Ugh, it’s just- I,” rip it, like a bandaid, just go. “I overheard something in the bathroom and, maker its so stupid.”
Poe is silent, waiting for you to continue.
“It was… Quinn Penly and Tella Zagley. And they were talking about you. I was in the stall and they didn’t know I was there. Maker, I hope they didn’t know I was there. Anyway, Tella was saying how she was trying to get your attention and wanted to ask you out and Quinn told her she had hooked up with you before and that you’re some kind of sex wizard long story short and they talked about how you hadn’t hooked up with anyone in a while and they thought you and I were dating which in retrospect seems really messed up that Tella would do the whole tight squeeze right in front of me if she really thought that was the case and anyway that’s all okay.” 
The waterfall of words feels like a surge of projectile vomit with no pauses, and you actually wonder if he caught all of that. Maker you hope to the stars he did, because there’s no way you’re going to repeat yourself. You’re so glad you’re laying down because you feel as though you’re about to fucking faint.
The silence you’re greeted with is deafening and goes on for an eternity. Is he holding back laughter? Is he shocked? Just one disadvantage of not being able to see his face, but you’re fairly certain if you had been within face-view, you never would’ve gotten all that information out.
“And the nine thing?" His voice betrays absolutely nothing.
Fuck, of course, you glossed over the most salacious part. Idiot.
“Quinn may have went into some detail and she may have let slip that you may have possibly that one time madehercumninetimes which she saidwasarecordbreakingnumber andthatyoudiditwithjustyourtongue.”
“Uhm, what?”
He’s not torturing you by goading you into saying it again, like some kind of sports champ cupping their ear at the roaring crowd in an ‘I can’t hear you’ mock display of bravado. He legitimately didn’t hear you because you barfed out that last bit in a steaming bowl of garbled language soup.
“She said. You made her cum nine times. With your mouth. Record breaking.”
“That’s the nine thing?”
“That’s the nine thing.”
“Anything else?”
“Nope. That’s all.”
His bed squeaks and he stands back at his spot, he rests his forearms on the lip of you bed and plants his chin on the back of his hand.
“Actually,” you amend, meeting his soft expression. Maker, he’s so close. “that’s not all.”
“Oh? More sexcapades?”
“The recruits have a new nickname for you. Commander Hot Ass.”
“That’s not very creative.”
You squint in mock contemplation, “It really isn’t.”
“It used to be Hoe Dameron.” He grumbles.
You shriek out a laugh. “Okay, now that is creative. Hoe Dameron. I’ve never heard anyone call you that.”
“Yeah, they stopped a while back.”
“Why’s that? You tickled them all to death?”
“No, I never minded the name” he shrugs, “Just haven’t been living up to the title lately.”
You stare at each other for a beat. He looks tired. You saw him shave this very morning in your shared fresher and already a fine layer of stubble shadows his face, texturing the steady planes of his jaw.
“You can make fun of me now if you want. You have my full permission to call me a bantha brain from now until Life Day.”
Poe shakes his head. “I didn’t mind everyone thinking I was….”
“A hoe?” You offer.
“A hoe” he smiles and it doesn’t reach his eyes.
“But I-” he tugs at the crown of his hair with an open fist, digging his forehead into your mattress. “Maker I’m going to lie back down for this”
He moves to duck back under to the bottom bunk, but you stop him by grabbing the loose collar of his unbuttoned shirt. Seriously, Dameron, why even have the buttons if you’re not going to use them? At a certain point it’s considered a waste of resources. 
“Don’t.” You plead. He’s the brave one here, if he can’t face you, you’re fucking doomed.
“Oh I see, so you can hide from stuff, but not me, is that right?” His tone is light and teasing, the way it always is. But the wry assessment cuts through you. You let go of his collar but he doesn’t go to the bottom bunk to hide, he faces you straight on. He purses his lips before deciding on, “I don’t want you to think I’m… the type of guy who uses people to get off or something.”
“I don’t think that.” 
“You don’t.” He says, unconvinced. 
“Of course not! I know you’re not like that.”
“Then… then why were you so upset? You couldn’t even look at me. I mean, look at you! You’re hiding, hiding in the fresher, under the blankets…” 
Maker, is that what he thinks? That you’re disgusted by him?
“That’s- that’s not why I couldn’t look at you! I couldn’t look at you because… because…” fuck here it comes. You can feel your heartbeat shaking your whole body, the wretched thing in your chest desperately trying to escape the confines of your very being, you imagine the thudding of it has to be quaking the whole bunk. 
“It’s not that part, it’s… well she said that you haven’t been with anyone since we’ve been friends. That I follow you around like a droid… I’m- be honest with me, am I cramping your style? Should I give you some space? I can kick it in the rec area if you want to you know, bring dates back here or something. This is a shared space, I hate to think you can’t, you know, be yourself, because you’re babysitting me or something.”
You say that, yes you say you can ‘kick it’, but the thought of Poe bringing someone else back here, to your little haven? And doing maker only knows what to their bits is just too much to really consider. If he did, that’d be just fine, but you would by no means be “kicking it”, more like pacing around the base, getting your hands dirty with anything that you could conceivably maintenance in order to get your mind off of it.
“Cramping my style, she says!” Poe slaps his hand on the bunk, startling you a little. “Is that what’s got you so bugged?”
“Well, yeah, kind of… “ it sounds silly when he puts it that way but it’s true. “You took me under your wing when I first got here and…”
“You know, you know better than anyone, except for maybe the general, that I don’t do anything I don’t want to do. And the opposite too, no one, not even you can make me do something I don’t want.” 
That is true. As a commander, he’s much better at giving the orders than taking them. 
You nod your agreement and pull the blanket a little more down your face. “I told you I was being stupid. Bantha brain, remember?”
“Not stupid. Not at all. Quinn on the other hand… maker, she certainly has a lot of opinions, doesn’t she?”
You hum noncommittally. “You two have, a…. history, huh?”
Poe covers his face with one hand, dragging it over his stubble in a way that makes a very appealing scratchy sound.
“Not really. It was, sheesh, over a year ago. And just the once. She’s cute, you know, but… yeah, just the once” he finishes the statement quickly and dismissively. 
“She seemed to enjoy herself, I mean. Nine times!” You pull the blanket down your legs and clap your hands together, resting them on the fold of the thin cover. 
“There she is! that’s the kind of response I would have expected from you! Not hiding away. Yeah, wow. Knew it was… something like that, didn’t realize she was able to keep count.”
“What do you mean, like, was she out of it?”
“Nine want’s the dirty deets, huh?” He pokes your tickle spot on your ribs and you swat his wrist.
“Oh maker, forget it!”
“No no no, i’m happy to share. You know what a humble guy I am.”
You bark a laugh.
“Humble Dameron. Your new nickname.”
“Don’t let the general hear you. No, Quinn wasn’t out of it. She was very into it. She was… well, you know what it’s like.”
“No I don’t. I very much do not know what it’s like. The legendary skills of Hoe Dameron.” You sit up now, cross legged and leaning towards him, eager and relieved that nothing has changed. Your banter is back. You’re teasing him, just like good friends.
“Maker, are you really asking me about this?”
“Go on! I do, I really want to know.”
“I don’t think I reinvented the wheel or anything. I just… it’s like that every time, you know, I do my thing and everyone seems pleased all around.”
“What kind of ‘dirty deets’ are those?” You accuse, “My grandmother has a filthier mouth.”
“You want a play by play or something? Is that really-“
“What if I do?”  
The air in the room shifts palpably. You didn’t intend for it to come out sounding like that exactly… but Maker, that was a tone adjustment. If that statement had a scent, it’d be jet fuel. The words the a period of a final chapter and the first words of the next novel. Maybe you had read everything wrong, maybe things had changed.
His expression turns dark and your tummy does what feels like 20 little somersaults, and maker you can feel your fucking lungs shake on an exhale. 
“You want the dirty details? The play by play, you got it. Okay, Nine, I start off with a little bit of kissing: pretty standard moves, I’ll get my hands in her hair, rub her scalp a little while I kiss her nice and slow, that one is a signature move- the scalp rub… gets em purring like a loth cat.” 
“mmmhmm” you say with closed lips, afraid if you open your mouth, a wave of drool will emerge. 
His tongue flicks out to lick his bottom lip, which he promptly drags between his teeth. Fuck. 
“I’ll- lemme show you.” He reaches a hand tentatively you your hair, your eyes grow wide with panic, he angles his brow toward you. “This okay?” Maker fuck his voice is deep. Like really really deep and soft. Shit.
You nod your head, in for a credit- in for a tare, and he firmly, with measured pressure, cups the back of your scalp, fingers sliding into your hair, his thumb rests warm and present, right behind your ear. You shiver. Fucking shiver, no denying it. Maker, he’s not even doing anything, his hand is perfectly still, and you’re quaking like fault line of a magma-cooled planet. 
He rubs his thumb on the soft bit of skin between your ear and hairline and you can’t stop yourself from closing your eyes and leaning in to the warm tingly feeling, the soft pad of his thumb is scratching an itch you didn’t know you had and the effect is like picking at a bug bite, the relief coexisting with the urge to scratch harder. 
“That’s good, right?”
“Y-yeah… good.” The words don’t even feel like they’re coming out of your mouth. When the hell did you forget how to speak?
His thumb doesn’t stop its work and your breathing gets deep and ragged. Poe steps back up on his bunk, coils squeaking under his calf-high boots; the extra foot of height causes him to tower over you when he leans his belly on your mattress. He brings his other hand to the opposite side of your head and mirrors the same action. Your head is cradled preciously in his cupped palms and, maker, the thumbs, his touch is like a million tickling microscopic live-wires, sparking deliciously, buzzing your brain until your whole being is liquid metal. 
You can’t lean into one without leaning away from the other and you don’t want to lean away at all. Signature fucking move, indeed. You scoot your body so you’re facing him directly so one of his arms doesn’t have to work harder than the other. You’re sure the look on your face is dopey as hell and the only thing you can do is keep your eyes closed so he can’t see how idiotically they roll to the back of your head. 
“I- I kiss her, while I do this….”
Fuck, you had forgotten about why the hell this was even happening, past and future had ceased to be, dropping your pliant form firmly in the present. 
“Okay” 
And when you say that, when you say ‘okay’, you consciously mean it as an ‘i understand’, but there must be something about your tone, or your body language or the way that you involuntarily moan or shift or something because Poe asks you, “do you want me to kiss you?”
Your eyes are still closed and hands reach up to his wrists and you grip them gently. His thumbs don’t stop. And it’s a real fucking question, isn’t it. Do you want him to kiss you? Do you want everything to change? Do you want to give up your friendship and exchange it for something more, more risky, less stable, more volatile? But he’s holding you so tenderly and he’s standing on his kriffing bed in his damn boots and he’s waiting for your reply with patient eyes. This stance has got to be giving his lower back and arms a real workout while he demonstrates everything he has to offer to you. He’s holding it all so steady, on a platter, and it could all be yours if you only reached out and grabbed it. He’s so much braver than you- you who hid in the fresher and the stall and under blankets and behind excuses. He’s offering. It’s like he said earlier, no one can make him do a damn thing he doesn’t want to do. He’s not asking if he can kiss you because he wants to accommodate you, he’s asking because he’s Poe and he’s sweet and maybe pleasing you just so happens to be the only thing he wants. 
Your fingers glide over the light dusting of hair on his thick forearms, they hit the rolled up sleeves of his loose linen shirt, stroking them back and forth and you nod, head tilting gently in the embrace of his palms. 
“Y-yes?” You can’t help the way your voice trembles and even you aren’t sure if it’s from excitement or from fear. 
He tilts your head in his hands, making the perfect angle to press his warm lips to yours, you feel but don’t see the his face draw close to yours. His breath and his voice are right there, on your lips and he says, “open your eyes. Don’t hide from me.”
He wants you to open your eyes? Right before he’s about to kiss you? Seems a little counterintuitive, but maybe it’s another one of his signature moves. You tell yourself to open your eyes. It’s a simple request, one you usually perform without conscious thought, but for some reason you want to stay hidden, to keep the one barrier remaining between you and Poe.
“What are you afraid of?” It’s the second time he’s asked you that question tonight, and you’re worried the answer might just shatter you. He’s holding you like precious glass, like a delicate arc of fine eggshell, and wether he lets you go or holds you closer- it’s going to crack, either fucking way.
“I- I… I don’t want anything to change. I want to…but I don’t want it to change.”
You can feel the way he shakes his head, his nose rubbing laterally over your own.
“Silly girl. Nothing- not a damn thing could ever change the way I feel about you.”
You open your eyes at that, slowly, carefully, like the anticipated curtain after an overture. You find his caf-brown eyes right up against yours; open and inviting. Fuck. He’s so big, he’s all you can see. And his lips, his lips are right there, ruggedly framed with prickly stubble that you’re certain has grown a millimeter or two since the tickle fight.
“Is this… is this one of your moves? Because it’s really really good.” If he said that to all the ladies, you can see why he’s got the reputation he does. He hasn’t stopped rubbing your scalp and you faintly wonder if you could actually cum from just the pleasure of his thumbs on your scalp alone.
A hot huff of laughter fans over your parted mouth. His eyes flit back and forth between yours. 
“No, the pièce de résistance is something I like to call a tight squeeze, I’ll show you later if you want.”
“You’re a dork, you know that?” You mean it to come out teasing, the way you always say it. But it’s soft, it’s barely there, it’s breathless and sensual; exhaled, rather than spoken. 
“You going to to call me names or are you going to kiss me?” 
Fuck. You love him. You’re just totally and helplessly in love with him. And so you do what someone in love does, you close the gap. You leap, without chute without cord, you jump into the void hoping to be caught in his wide embrace.
You tentatively press your lips to his, he’s still cradling your head preciously and his thumbs stop rubbing for the first few seconds of your lips meeting his-  he’s shocked into stillness. His lips are soft and firm and he tastes like citrus and spotchka. He kisses so slowly with so much fucking intention like he’s trying to absorb everything about you. And then he quickly remembers his signature move of rubbing your scalp and the combination is heaven. The motion of his lips is like the the way his thumbs rub your scalp, a smoldering sparking thing with a steady heat. Your chin and nose graze his prickly stubble, your smooth skin catching on it a bit like sandpaper. 
You have thought about this. What it would be like to kiss him. Especially in the mornings when he’s sleepy and you bring him caf and he winks at you from his bunk with his hair all mussed and his face all pillow-marked. You’ve thought about it, just saying ‘fuck it’ and diving into the lower bunk with him to feel his skin on yours and to kiss his warm sleepy mouth.
And now you’re actually kissing him; Poe, your Poe, and he’s good, Maker he is so fucking good and slow and warm; he’s showing you his moves and you don’t care if he’s kissed Quinn Penly exactly like this, just once or a even a hundred times, because this feels special. It feels handcrafted for you and when you peep your eyes open during the kiss to make sure it’s really happening, you see the way his shoulders are shrugged and how his brow is creased- like he’s putting in all the effort in the galaxy to show you just how good he can make everything for you. 
You scoot forward, letting your lips get clumsy while you seat yourself on the edge of the mattress and let your legs hang on either side of Poe’s torso. He hums in approval at your new position and lets one hand leave your head to rub gently on your thigh. 
“So” you break the kiss. “What’s your next move?”
Poe is breathless, like you, and his lips are pink and kiss swollen and so lovely you want to dive back in and grab him by the hair when you do.
You slide your hands up behind his ears and give him the same massaging movement he’s been giving you, trying to do the actions exactly like him, circling your thumbs on the soft patches of skin. His eyes roll back a bit and he humms like a pleased loth cat. 
“What did you ask me?” He tries to snap out of the daze you’ve put him under. You know exactly how blissful this feels for him and you know he does it on others, but has anyone ever done it for him?
“I said, what’s your next move?”
Poe looks confused. So you continue, “the play by play? What’s next?”
“Oh… oh! Well, I… move down to the neck.”
“Uh huh.”
“Can I show you?”
“Please.”
Using the hand on your scalp, Poe tilts your head to the side slightly, exposing your neck, and he begins to lick and suck gently at the sensitive skin there. His mouth is so warm and soft except for the gentle scratch of his facial hair, and the tiny scrape of teeth on the sensitive flesh of your neck makes you moan and clutch the backs of his shoulders and clench your thighs around his waist. 
“Fuck, that’s good. That’s really good, Poe.”
“Mmmhmmm,” he hums, not stopping the ministrations of his lips on your jugular. Maker, he is amazing at this. You’re seeing fucking stars in your vision already. You don’t know how far this playbook of his goes, but you’re willing to see it through to the very last page. 
He grabs at your thighs with both hands and pants into your neck when he says, “lay down. please.”
He’s breathing as hard as you are and it takes no mental fortitude for you you lay back down, easily onto your pillow. Poe jumps onto your bunk with such finesse and ease, crawling over your supine form and diving into the other side of your neck. Maker he is magnificent. He’s crouched above you, the only body part of his making contact is his lips and tongue on your neck; his knees are blockading yours on either side and his hands prop him up, forearms engaged on both sides of your head. You wrap your arms around his neck and rub his scalp with your fingers, just hoping to give him a modicum amount of the pleasure he’s bestowing upon you. 
“And then-then what?” You raggedly breathe out, twisting your fingers into his curls.
Poe sighs and chuckles into your neck, giving a few closed mouth kisses to your trembling skin.
“You just want the highlights, huh?”
“I want it however you give it.”
Poe nods and he scoots back onto his knees. Maker, he’s still fully clothed, boots, blaster and all on your bed, and he starts to unfasten your top, undoing the ties and the buttons, exposing your torso to the tiny room thats made tinier by his large presence. 
“Then… then I do something like this.” He opens your sleep top easily, untying the sash at your waist , your tits exposed and vulnerable, your body is fucking quaking with nowhere to hide. He pushes the material of the top completely off of your torso and arms.
 “Nine. Baby. You’re… you’re so… fuck.” Words escape him and his mouth finds your clavicle, and he’s kneeling above you, worshiping you, kissing directly over your heart in such a reverent fucking way, his stubble scraping you all the while as he kisses on his mouth’s journey to your tits. He very obviously can’t decide which one he wants in his mouth first; kissing the medial side of each of them. He ends up deciding on the left one, latching onto your hard nipple, licking and sucking you to the fucking moon and back. 
You scoot your knees and legs out from between his legs and you wrap your lower appendages around his middle, getting as much as you can reach with all that you have at your disposal. Maker, you are gone and the only thing that remains is the wanton bits inside of you that need fo feel him closer and fucking closer.
He kisses his way to your other nipple and you cry out in ecstasy at how perfect his mouth and tongue feel swirling on you and you’ve never felt so worshipped or adored in your entire life. You wonder briefly if this is all because of his talents or if it’s because this was always meant to be. Does it feel so good because he’s so adept at it or is it because it was always supposed to be like this? Him. Poe, your Poe, in your bed exposing and sucking and biting you like it is the most natural thing in the world. He tugs your right nipple with his teeth and your legs crush his hips involuntarily. He sinks his hips onto yours and you delight in the closer presence of him. Maker, he’s so big and present. One nipple is being bit and licked while the other is being tugged and pulled by warm deft fingers and just like earlier when you thought you might cum from him rubbing your head you think you really might be able to this time, with just him playing with your breasts. But it’s not even ‘playing’ is it? He’s making love to you already, right here, on second base; he’s got you firmly locked in his scope and there’s no fucking escape. 
“What’s the next play, Dameron?” Maker, you try, you try to sound as casual as possible but the question is more like a plea, you want him down. Down down down down. And he does just that, doesn’t even come up with a signature quirky remark before kissing down your sternum and abdomen, lingering at your belly button briefly to lick into it, giving you a preview of things to come. 
Fuck, his fucking tongue is so hot; licking at a spot that isn’t even supposed to be sexual. He’s tugging your leggings down the swell of your ass without compromising the licks he’s administering to your belly. Your legs, once holding his hips, are now limp and splayed as he pulls the garment off your quivering limbs. He kisses from the inside of your knee to the apex of your thighs and mouths and moans into the flimsy piece of fabric separating your sex from his begging mouth. Fuck. You can barely look at him. And not for the reasons he voiced earlier, but because it’s all so raw and so real.
“Next step?’ You shake when you ask him, trembling fingers soothing his thick curls as he kisses the elastic seam of your panties.
“Next is…. This.” He stares hard into your eyes as he shimmies your relegation panties down your trembling legs. Maker, if you had known this was going to happen tonight you would have worn something different. Something sexy, or at least new. But the panties are gone anyway before you have time to be truly horrified about them and Poe stares dumbstruck between your waiting thighs. 
“Fuck me, baby. Such a pretty little pussy.”
He dives face first into the curls at your mound. Inhaling deeply and his hands grip your waist in supplication. 
Maker, you’re on the fucking edge and its no wonder Quinn was bragging because holy fucking hell, this is a new form of worship you’ve never been exposed to. 
You feel yourself on the edge of everything already. Poe bites your mound lightly, tugs at your curls and he reaches out a hand up towards your head and asks, “Pillow?”
“Huh?” All thought is out the window and Dameron needs a what now?
“Pillow, baby. Need a pillow.” He is insistent, kissing the crease of your thigh, your hipbone. One hand dragging from your neck, down your sternum in slow petting strokes, fuck, his hands, his forearms, so big and dense. Capable of war and battle and defending the innocent; and also quite capable of turning your entire body into a puddle of mush- of quaking goo. You eagerly hand him your extra pillow and he easily hooks your knees with his forearm and lifts your hips off the bed to place the pillow beneath them. 
“Very important step,” he gasps, settling eagerly back between your thighs. “Gonna be down here a long time, need to make sure my neck… is good.”
He’s breathing heavily over your naked cunt, staring at it all propped up for him, the eagerness to dive in is so fucking palpable, but he stops himself, he grabs both your hands in his and rubs them soothingly. Fuck, how are his hands so fucking warm?
“You sure about this, honey?”
“Poe, please.” You beg, canting your hips up slightly, afraid now that he might back out and holy maker this is the only fucking thing you could ever want. Fuck all the fear that was holding you back before, the woman you were 20 minutes ago didn’t know, couldn’t understand what was missing, what beautiful sensations were waiting for her in the unknown.
Poe smiles and nods, leaning over your trembling body to press a loving kiss to your lips, his hands still twisting with yours, and who fucking knew that holding hands and kissing could feel this fucking special, you swear you’re about to burst with love for him. You almost break the kiss to fucking declare yourself because it it just boils and steams in the cavity of your chest so very violently- but instead of telling him you’re in love, you moan desperately into the tender give of his lovely mouth. And he must be able to interpret desperate moans of love or something because he breaks the kiss and leans his forehead onto yours and says.
“Nine. I fucking- I love you. You know that? Love you so much.”
You nod because, yes. You know he does. He shows you just how much every day. It’s not as much of a declaration as it is an unsaid fact. It’s no confession, it just is what it is; he loves you. And you nearly fucking cry looking at his big dumb brown eyes. You’re completely laid out, spread open before him, and you tilt your chin up to kiss him; and in between soft, sweet kisses you whisper into the comforting adoration of his mouth, “I love you. I love you. I love you.”
Poes hands clench and squeeze yours and his lips traverse the path he previously trailblazed with hot hungry lips, frantically making his way down your shaking abdomen, one desperate press of lips after the other. 
You can’t help it, you cant help the way your hips rock toward him slightly, begging for friction, begging for his tongue. And then he positions himself, just like you’d imagined, his large- fully dressed from, settled in between your legs, lips teasing the insides of your thigh, about a third of his own body hanging off the edge of the bunk; just like you’d pictured it every time. But he’s hot and he’s here and it’s really happening and his mouth finally reaches your dripping lips and oh fuck he’s good. 
He’s soothing your thumbs with his own while he makes the same soothing motion with his tongue on your clit. Holy fucking hell. His tongue, it’s so strong and purposeful, sliding into the seam of you. Shit he looks so pretty like this. He hums contentedly at the taste of you? The feel of you? Whatever it is, he hums through his nose and the hot breath travels through your curls and fuck, you know you’re a goner. You’re going to get it tonight. This is a challenge isn’t it? The nine thing. You know Poe and you know that there’s no way he’s going to let the woman he loves be outdone by Quinn fucking Penly. May the maker have mercy on you. Your little breaths are stunted and you shiver in anticipation when Poe licks hot and open flat-tongued ministrations on you. You let go of his hands to run through his beautiful locks and he grips the soft flesh of your thighs, rubbing those same soothing circles onto the tops of your quads. 
He makes you cum. He makes you cum 8 fucking times in a row. Like the tie fighters he shot down earlier today. Bam, bam, bam. Obliterating every invisible and vestigial barrier you have until you’re nothing but a shaking pliant mess, the heat of your core so swollen and liquefied, you can not tell where your folds end and his mouth begins. 
Well, you’ll be damned. Penley was not joking, not exaggerating his skills. He is… Maker, he is fucking good at this. How much pussy has this man eaten in his life to make him this good? You know what, doesn’t matter, you don’t care. In fact, you’re grateful as hell to all the pussy that came before you to make him this fucking good. Maker, bless them all. He’s all hot breath and firm competent tongue. And those eyes. Those fucking impossibly big, gorgeous eyes that keep looking at you. Fucking prettiest eyes in the galaxy. Even prettier framed by your trembling thighs. In the haze of your mind you register that the way he stares at you probably has a lot to do with how skilled he is. Like a constant receptor for biofeedback: eyes trained on the little crease between your brows, on the shape of your mouth around your silent screams, on the way you bite your lip when he does it that way… or this way. Like an optometrist checking for your prescription. Better 1, or better 2? Poe goes for a minute up and down with tiny licks, the next minute- a side to side with strong licks. Oh that face you just made, that’d be a 1. So he repeats. Up and down with tiny licks, or circles with tip of the tongue? You buck your hips on both of those… that’s a tossup. Back to the beginning. 
This fucking beautiful man, the prettiest mouth in the galaxy, casually curating the perfect prescription of licking pattern for your pussy. The only time his eyes break away from your face is when they close involuntarily to savor you- beautiful eyelashes delicately fanning closed, cutting off one sense in exchange for increased sensation on his tongue. He closes his eyes and fucking moans. Hot air coming out of his beautiful nose nestled in your curls. Maker the sound of those moans. It’s like he’s trying to fill up your clenching hole with the vibrations of his throat alone. Were the moans voluntary? Could he really be enjoying himself this much? But the more he grips the pillowy flesh of your hips, and draws your cunt closer and closer to his mouth, you can tell, he really is fucking enjoying himself. Poe Dameron doesn’t do anything he doesn’t want to do.
And the patience on him. There is no air of man-on-a-mission. No, the curly haired love machine between your legs is not trying to get you anywhere. Not a chauffeur, not even a dammed pilot right now. He has the look of a man moving in to his new home. Hanging up his hat, settling in, getting the lay of the land- inspecting and admiring the place he’s going to be living for the rest of his days. Nothing feral about it. Purely domestic, polished and practiced. Fork on the left, napkin in lap, digging in. 
He looks so comfortable down there. How can he look so comfortable as the second person on this one person cot? He’s halfway hanging off the bunk, but he looks like he could really be there all night, shit, maybe he has been there all night, you lose sense of time and space and that 10am call time tomorrow (today?) can go fuck itself for all you care.
Each time you come is a little victory for him, you can see it in his shining eyes. By the time he gets to the 6th one you’re fully confident that there’s no way, no way in hell you could possibly reach that height again. But you do. He walks you all the way up, pushes you off, and carries your limpness over the back of his broad shoulders, all the way up, and all the way down, to fall again and again and again…
Poe is consistent and determined, tackling you like a mission, on a mission to get that 9th and final orgasm, and it doesn’t take him long to find the perfect combination of mouth movements that coax desperate low moans out of you once again; moans that you didn’t think were possible at this stage in the game. You plant your heels and push your cunt towards his face, leaning into the move. Not jerking away from too much stimulation. You start grinding up on his face, just a little. He lets you do it, following the movement of your hips with his mouth, figuring out what your body is searching for so he can give it to you. Poe doesn’t pin your hips down for moving, he recognizes the movement as a want of friction, of contact, of seeking, and he is going to give that to you. Ready and willing to give you any fucking thing you need.
“Oh fuck, Poe. Just like that, just like that holy shiiiit, yes don’t fucking stop, Dameron.” Your voice is needy, wrecked, and breathless, your mouth is so dry from having moaned a lifetimes worth of hot breaths in one evening. You clutch his thick curls in your fingers to reiterate your point. Which is, for the love of Maker, stay here, do not fucking move. Your fists glue his beautiful face to your cunt. When you’re confident he’s not going to break away or deviate, you let your hands relax and rest mildly on his head, your splayed fingers carelessly fingering his locks and rubbing little circles into his scalp. 
“So good. So fucking good, Commander.” You’re drooling. Like some kind of animal, you are drooling, but you can’t care, not right now. There’s no room to be self conscious when Poe is feasting on you, the steady beat of his tongue marching you closer and closer to the edge. You can read in his eyes what he’d be saying if he could talk, if his mouth wasn’t in the zone; “thats right, baby. Cum in my mouth.” Damn his eyes are so fucking beautiful with the moonlight leaking into the room like this. Everything is cast in shades of blue from the window and warm yellow from the lamp, and his eyes- dark and sparkling, fuck it’s so breathtaking you wish you could take a holo to fucking remember, but you’re pretty certain you’ll never be able to blink those irises out of your memory. They’re so bright you suspect they’ve already burned holes into your vision that will last for weeks to come; every time you close your eyes, it will be nothing but twin glittering pinpricks. 
His fingers flex and contract on your soft thighs, indenting your flesh gently, reassuring them of their rightful space on either side of his head. You forget why you were so scared to let things get here. There’s nothing scary about this, in fact nothing has felt more right than this. It doesn’t matter he’s your commander, your best friend, your kriffing roommate… he’s still all those things and he’s more than that. He’s your Poe. You could spend the rest of your life with his head right there. Yes, right there, right there, right fucking…
“Poe!” You whine, breath belting ragged from your nose, “so good. Fuck yes, just like that, Poe I’m gunna, I’m gunna. Fuck, fuuuck, Poe.” Your hips rise to make even more friction than what he’s already giving you, “fucking cuuuuuu-“ the words devolve from intelligible speech into a long, low moan. Your toes curl and your thighs vice his pretty head, covering his ears- muffling them from the cries of your pleasure.
You cum hard, wetness flowing out of your spasming cunt. Nine.
He lets out a deep, vibrational moan into your center, clawing his fingers into the thighs currently smashing his head. Your hands and fingers shake and writhe, one hand in his hair, the other tugging at your nipple. Fuck, you feel like you’re being electrocuted, nearly goddamn painful, and if you didn’t know the number you were both aiming for you’d have begged him to stop a long time ago, beg him to come up and fuck you because he must be painfully hard in his rugged canvas pants. You softly whine as the shocks ebb from your body, gently rocking your hips to Poe’s mouth, eeking the last bit of pleasure out of his tongue. 
Your body falls limp, thighs falling open, Poe rubs them softly and moves his mouth down slightly, from your clit to your entrance, dipping his tongue into your dripping hole, sucking with his lips, catching every drop of your release into his languid, warm mouth. Lapping up the evidence of his efforts with his hot slick tongue. Maker, everything is hot and slick, the only friction you can feel is the slight burn of Poe’s one-day stubble. You swear you saw him shave that morning, but it grows like a fucking weed on him and the short bristles that were burning the soft skin of your inner thighs when you started are sufficiently covered in sweat and spit and your cum, to the point where the friction is negligible at best, and the whole lower half of his face moves with a gliding ease through your folds. 
“That was… that was…” your voice is broken and shaky, like every part of you. The pillow he placed under your hips is totally flattened now, not providing any form of support or elevation for his neck to comfortably keep his face in the recesses of your spent pleasure.
Poe hums, mouth still occupied with your nether regions, licking and swallowing, licking and swallowing all the evidence he can reach with his tongue. Every bit that hasn’t been absorbed by your thin relegation blanket or smeared in your curls and the insides of your upper thighs. 
“Poe…” you whine, his tongue is too much. Too fucking much right now and you need him closer, you need him bare and not blastered-up, hanging partway off the bed. You push his face away from your pussy sighing in relief when you feel the cool air hit your heat for the first time in fucking hours. 
“Next… what’s the next step,” you smile, blissed out and teasing.
Poe wipes his mouth, just like he wiped it at the cantina after the citrus display, and takes a deep breath in followed by a satisfied exhale. He shakes his head at you, grinning, his lips are so pink and swollen and he places a sticky stubbly kiss to your hip bone before rising up to his knees and begins to unbutton his shirt. 
“Next step is, I believe I mentioned; the tight squeeze.” He winks and his fingers are steady, unbuttoning the bottom half of his linen shirt and shrugging it off his shoulders before tossing it to the floor. 
Maker, you’ve seen him shirtless before, he never wears shirts to sleep, and you’ve trained yourself not to ogle him, but now it’s different. Now you’re able to stare, to drink him in unabashedly. He undoes his thigh holster and discards it with a toss, joining his rumpled shirt on the bedroom floor. He does it all with half hooded eyes on yours and you feel positively hypnotized at the mini strip show. He unfastens his rough canvas pants and sits on the edge of the bed to toe off his boots. You hear them clunk to the floor one by one. 
“Don’t know how tight of a squeeze I’ll be. You’ll have to hit up Tella for that move.” You wink at him.
He scoffs and leans back to pull down his trousers and underwear. And kicks them off his legs, careless as to where they wind up on the floor below. 
“Never, baby. Never.” 
He’s completely bare now, and yes, he’s achingly hard, cock bobbing and smacking on his abdomen when he bends to his hands and knees and kisses up your shins, up your thighs, up up up to your neck and cheek and lips. His mouth is pleasantly warm and sticky, his tongue tastes like arousal, and you snake your arms under his to grab the taut muscles at his back. He grabs your legs and hooks your thighs at his pleasantly wide hips. Maker, you’re too fucked out already and you haven’t even been fucked yet. There’s nothing between you now and you can feel his cock brush against your aching cunt while he licks into your mouth. And even though you’ve cum nine fucking times, you still want more. Maybe not more orgasms, but more him, more Poe, always more more more. 
You break the kiss and ask, still breathless and shaking, “Maker is this really happening? Are we really going to-“
Poe cuts you off and amends seriously, “Only if you want to. We can stop right now. We don’t need to round all the bases,” he strokes your cheek with his thumb, “whatever you want from me. I’m yours.”
Your eyes search his. He really would stop, wouldn’t he? After giving you all that, he wouldn’t ask for anything of his own. You stare into his eyes, relieved at what you see there, grateful he was patient and brave enough to wait for you to come out of your shell, to do this thing that seemed so scary at first, but there isn’t any fear to be had now; holding him like this, steady and earnest and waiting. He’s trembling with need now and you were only asking if it was really happening because it feels too good to be true. Like a vivid hallucination and the only fear now is of going back to the way it was before; with all the doors and blankets and eyelids separating you. You want this. You want him. 
His cock is caught at the notch of your core, so you slide your hands down his lower back, over the swell of his ass and you press your fingers into his firm flesh, lowering his hips to yours. He slides into you with unreal ease. You’re still so fucking wet despite how thoroughly he tried to lick you clean. He fully seats into you and when he does, his back arches under your hands and he shakes, one hand gripping your face, the other squeezing your hip.
“Fuck baby, you’re so fucking wet.” He groans and his face looks like it’s in actual pain the way he squints his eyes close and huffs through his nose, biting his bottom lip slightly. “Not.. not going to last long. Wanna.. wanna give you one more…”
One more? One more what? Orgasm? 
“No way….”
“Oh you- you don’t want one?” He grinds his hips into yours just fucking right and you moan hoarsely. He’s giving you that fucking look. The challenge accepted look. Dammit.
“Or do you not think I can get you there again?” He grinds deeper now and you’ve got hot pricks of tears at the corners of your eyes because maker fuck, how can this feel good? How can he make you want more when you’ve had enough? But he does, he fucking does. He’s grinding into you with expert friction on your mound and your nails dig into the flexing muscles of his ass. Holy shit, he’s a fucking sex god. They weren’t wrong. Every bathroom sink gossip within a 10 planet radius should be buzzing about this fucking asshole. And, maker, his stupid satisfied grin says everything and more. He knows how badly you want it, he can feel the desperation- hot and clenching at him. 
He grips the rail of your bed for more leverage and scoots his thighs closer to you, folding you in just the tiniest bit until- fuck. He’s hitting a fucking miracle inside of you, something that flashes hot and electric with every thrust and drag of his cock. He’s got this down to a fucking science, doesn’t he? His thick forearm is taught and flexed from gripping the rail above your head and, maker, he’s so big and strong… you’ve always loved his forearms but this… he’s biting his bottom lip in concentration now, the fucking pussy whisperer. More tears leak out of the sides of your eyes and your lips quiver and your knees shake out of control on either side of his hips. Fuck him, he’s going to make you cum again and you’re never going to live it down. Maker, he’ll probably change your name to “Ten” and when everybody asks why he’ll wink at you and you’ll want to kill him. You want to kill him now; the strong sexy bastard-grinding up into you.
He kisses your cheek and whispers in your ear while he rocks into you just fucking right, “Give it to me, that’s right baby, can feel you right there, just let go.”  
You can’t fucking fight it. He’s on you like nothing else, you’re fucking helplessly pinned beneath him and his chest cages you in so tensely you can hardly breathe let alone move. You’re sure you draw blood from his skin with your nails when you cum on his cock. More tears streaming thinly from the sides of your eyes. Fuck him. It’s a perfect ratio of pleasure and pain, soreness and relief. You muffle your scream into his warm shoulder, not wanting to wake anyone- certain that it’s gotta be at least 3am and everyone is sound asleep. 
He curses repeatedly in your ear and draws heaving breaths as he flexes and spills into you. His cock pulses resonant and hot, buried completely, the hand on your hip leaving dents in your skin as if you were trying to break free of his grasp. His relieved gasps are music to your ears. You drag your nails up and down his back lightly and he goes totally boneless on you like a man who just completed an epic feat of strength; completely depleted. It’s not a wholly unpleasant feeling, being crushed by him. He kisses your neck and chuckles. 
“Gunna have to start calling you Ten now.”
You huff in disbelief, “how did I know you were going to say that?”
“Because I’m predictable?”
You smile and bite your bottom lip, “How about: because I know you so well.”
“Mmmm, yeah. I like that.”
You bite your lip and smile, staring at the ceiling, lightly scratching Poe’s back as he falls asleep in you and on you, the early rays of dawn leak in through the window and mix with the golden lamp light and you kiss the side of Poe’s head.
“Me too.”
END
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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melodygatesauthor · 9 months
Text
Birthday Cake
Poe Dameron X f!Reader
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Not Beta Read - A (very very belated) birthday gift for @campingwiththecharmings
Thank you for being such a good friend to me since the very beginning of my time on this site and for always being so supportive. I hope you like this and know that I love you dearly ❤️
Summary
It's your birthday, and even though the party is over, your boyfriend Poe still has a surprise in store for you.
Tags/Warnings
NSFW, soft Poe Dameron, fluff and smut, food (frosting), birthday fic, pwp, established relationship, p in v creampie, bad jokes, Poe being Poe, reader is not coded
Word Count: 1.4k
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You knew that Poe was good at surprises, but seeing him when you got out of the shower wearing nothing but some strategically placed frosting on his nipples was far from what you expected. You raised an eyebrow and pursed your lips. He had that playful smirk on his face that let you know you were in for a fun time. It was good to know that even after the years you’d been together, he always managed to keep things interesting.
“Remember when I told you not to fill up on birthday cake tonight?” He asked as you slowly approached him.
“Yeah…” you stopped right in front of him, “I thought you were insinuating I needed to lose a couple pounds.”
Poe broke out of his suave demeanor into a laugh that he couldn’t contain.
“Baby, you know I always like what I see,” he bit his lip and looked you up and down, “thought you knew me better than that.”
He walked up to you, seeming to make a point of swinging his hips more than necessary. When he got closer, he leaned in slowly, pressing a soft, delicate kiss against your lips. A heavy breath escaped you when you went in for more, adding your tongue to the mixture, needing desperately to taste him.
You felt his hands roaming over your body over the towel. He untucked it from around your breasts and let it drop to the floor before pulling you against his chest. You gasped, pulling back from the kiss and staring at him incredulously.
“Poe I just took a shower,” you said, trying to push him back, “I don’t want to get all–”
He interrupted with his lips over yours again, to which you gave up finally and melted into him, letting yourself give in to the moment. He lifted you by your rear, carrying you over to the bed and laying you down before crawling over you. He was so fucking handsome, dark locks falling into his glimmering eyes while he looked at you like nothing else in the galaxy existed. He dipped down, brushing his nose along yours. You could feel the frosting between your chests, smearing all over your skin.
“Was gonna let you clean me up first but…changed my mind sweetheart.”
He moved his lips to your jaw, moaning hungrily. You arched your body upward into his, feeling the warmth of his skin enveloping you. He moved his gentle kisses down your neck, over your collarbone and to your left breast where some of the frosting had transferred from his body to yours. You watched him lap some of the sweet, pink confection off your nipple before closing his mouth on it, flicking his tongue over the peak.
You gasped, reaching one hand up to grab the back of his head while the other gripped the sheets for dear life. You felt Poe’s hand slide over yours, interlocking his fingers with you as he continued his work over your tit. He was messy, slurping and sucking every bit of the frosting on your pebbled skin.
“Mm,” he hummed, looking up at you, “now you really are my sweet girl, aren’t you baby?”
You couldn’t answer, you were too wrapped up in the pleasure that his mouth afforded you, but you still nodded and groaned to show your enjoyment. He moved to the other breast, mumbling something into your sternum on the way over about how he couldn’t let that one feel left out. You felt his thumb brush over the side of your hand, and you felt comfort in his embrace.
“P-Poe…” you whined, squeezing his hand tightly.
He kissed his way back up to your lips. His tongue tasted so sweet as he melted his mouth into yours again. It was as though his cock knew right where your hole was when he lined himself up between your legs. You felt the gentle prod of his precum-slick head, testing your hole to make sure you were ready.
“Couldn’t let you spend your birthday without smothering you in some sweet loving could I?” He bit his lip, looking at you amusedly.
Slowly he slid into you, the delicious drag of his cock giving you waves of pleasure immediately as he bottomed out completely. You both expelled a breathy sigh into the room. He brought his hips back until only the tip remained before he thrusted forward even harder this time. You whimpered in response to the ache of his size. You never quite seemed to get used to that stretch.
“Oh that’s right baby, love hearing those sounds coming from your pretty lips,” he moaned into another kiss as he continued his rhythmic pace, “don’t stop, wanna hear you.”
You complied, making sure he knew exactly how you felt with every cry he forced out of your parted lips while pounding deep into your core. He leaned back and swiped some of the frosting off of his chest, sliding two thick, deliciously coated fingers in your mouth.
“Clean that up for me sweet girl, get them nice and clean.”
You sucked on Poe’s fingers while he fucked you, feeling how hard he got inside your cunt as you swirled your tongue around him. He lurched forward on the next forward snap of his hips, grabbing onto your jaw. He kept his fingers in your mouth while he pressed his lips against your ear. A low rumbling groan came from Poe’s chest.
“Fuck, suck those fingers like you’d suck this cock baby,” he said in a breathy rasp.
You closed your lips around his extremities and started bobbing your head back and forth. You loved the salty taste on the pads of his fingers while he fucked them over your tongue. Poe’s moans became deeper, and you felt him rolling his hips in a stronger, more even tempo. He started kissing the space right below your earlobe, stray curls brushing your cheek. You let out a breathy whine, feeling the way his lips sent an electric current over your entire body.
You slid your own fingers along his chest, grabbing some more of the frosting before mimicking his actions, popping them in his mouth and pushing his face up so he would look at you. He smiled around your fingertips, sticking his tongue in between your middle and forefinger. Your moan was muffled around him, feeling him slide his own digits deeper to the back of your throat.
“Fees sho goob,” Poe said in a tone laced with gravel and muffled by your fingers.
You groaned, closing your eyes and tossing your head back. Poe let his hand leave your mouth and wander past your throat and over your collarbone before clasping onto your breast. You moaned, dropping your hand out of his mouth as well, letting it travel down his chest and swirling the pad of your finger over his nipple in the thin layer of frosting still covering his skin.
He moved faster, choking out a heavy groan as your walls fluttered around his girth in response to the increased pace. His hips started snapping, and he leaned forward, nipping at your neck and then soothing your skin with his tongue. You heard that signature high-pitched whine escape him, letting you know he was close.
“Such a sweet girl, always so good to have you with me, to hear you, to feel you sweetheart,” he continued leaving soft kisses along the soft skin of your neck and throat, breath punching out of his lungs with every forward thrust.
“Yes, yes, you feel so good Poe,” you clenched your teeth and arched your back into him, “so-fucking-good-I—oh!”
“Oh that’s it baby, fuckthat’sitfuck!” He started moving faster, pounding his hips into you until you felt the gush of warmth spill out of him and into your cunt.
You threw your head back, filling the cabin with the moans and whines you knew he loved so much as your cunt crashed down in waves over his cock. He was still going, length pumping hot spurts into your greedy hole, painting your walls white. His voice was low and raspy as he came down from the high, pressing his forehead to yours
“Now, you’re like a sweet little pastry with a cream filling,” he said, laughing too hard at his own joke.
“Not funny,” you gave him a pity chuckle and rolled your eyes, “come on,” you tapped his side, “let’s go get in the shower.”
“Did you enjoy your cake?” He raised his eyebrow.
You tapped his nose, “coulda used more frosting...”
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Star Wars Masterlist
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dameronology · 1 year
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can i please request love confessions prompt 1 for poe 🫶🫶
i have not written for poe in so LONG (despite my blog name lol) and i miss him
poe + they're drunk and you're carrying them to their room, when they unexpectedly say how much they love you, causing you to drop them on the floor (x)
Poe Dameron was lively at the best of times.
Poe Dameron drunk was just regular Poe Dameron amplified.
Trying to drag the pilot to his room - with the entirety of his body weight resting on you, legs basically a dead weight - was a challenge. It was made even harder by the fact you were trying to avoid waking the rest of the Resistance. It was just a shame that Poe had other ideas.
"WHY ISN'T EVERYONE ELSE AWAKE?"
"Shut the fuck up, Poe!" you hissed. Despite your best efforts at clamping a hand over his mouth, he'd wriggled free. "It's 2 in the goddamn morning!"
"Exactly," he muttered. "It's so early."
"In the morning?"
"No, I mean, like...early. The party has barely friggin' started, babe!"
Trying to ignore the heat creeping up your cheeks, you lead Poe further down the hallway. His room wasn't far now, but he was beginning to become fucking heavy. Again, it didn't help that he insisted on refusing to use his legs, making him all but a deadweight.
"It's gonna be less of a party when you wake up tomorrow hanging out your ass," you shot back.
Fumbling with his keys, you managed to get the doors to his quarters open. They were as they had always been; cluttered, but not messy. A tangle of jackets and shirts and boots, intertwined with pictures of him with you, Finn, Rey and Leia. A model X-Wing was on his desk, beside a notebook with all his missions plans scrawled down.
"Is this where you leave me?" he asked.
"No, not yet," you muttered.
"Good, that's why I love you so damn much."
There was a dull thud as Poe hit the floor. The distance was only about a foot, but he let out a loud groan as you did. His head didn't even hit the floor, so it was a mystery to as to why he was holding it in pain.
"You love me?" you asked, trying to hide the shock.
"Obviously I do," Poe grumbled. He rolled on his back, dark eyes staring at the ceiling. "Not when you dump me on the floor, though."
"Sorry," you grimaced. "But...do you love love me?"
"I think so," he replied. "I love Finn, and I love Rey, but I love you in a different kind of way and - oh my god! That rhymes!"
"That's...that's a lot to think about," you murmured to yourself.
"Yeah, I know. I think about it all the time," he replied.
Bending down, you took the pilot by the hand and managed to pull him back up.
Dumping Poe in his bed, you pulled off his boots and jacket and put them on his desk chair. There was already water on his bedside table - maybe he'd done some thinking ahead. His painkillers weren't too hard to find either, buried deep in the darkness of his bedside drawer.
"Right, this is where I leave you," you declared, tucking the covers over him. "I'll come and see you in the morning and see how you're doing."
You were trying to act normal, given the revelation.
"Okay..." Poe was already half-asleep. "Can we talk in the morning?"
"You're not gonna remember this in the morning, Dameron."
He lazily stuck his pinky finger out towards you. "But pinky promise me that you'll remind me? Because I've been wanting to tell you that for like two years."
"Yeah," you smiled. "I promise."
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ashxllbey · 1 year
Text
Starman - Poe Dameron X Fem!Reader - Chapter 28: Nights in White Satin
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GIF by can't find the owner - lmk if it's yours!
Previous Chapter | Next Chapter
Word count: 11k Warnings: SMUT!! Minors DNI (this is yet another reminder that this is an 18+ blog and underage users will be blocked, pls I'm not responsible for your media consumption), unprotected sex, me making shit up about Star Wars' medical stuff (don't @ me) (wrap it before you tap it), consensual sex, mentions of alcohol, adults making dumb decisions (under the influence *and* with no excuses), swearing. Also, Poe being a cocky bastard, which deserves a warning of its own. A/N: I know. I'm late. I'm very sorry. I wanted to make sure everything was perfect, and it's not, but that's okay. There's almost 50 of you on this blog now, and I love you all - thank you for sticking around and following along. I hope you're doing well. Enjoy ♥
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  The smell of citrus lingering in the air should have been the first warning that something was out of place. Y/N emerged slowly from the deep slumber she had been in, stirring under the thick covers. Her head hurt from the alcohol, still clouded by the remnants of sleep. Her face was deeply set into the pillows, but she could see the faintest ray of lights brightening the room in her peripheral vision.  It felt nice. It was so cozy. Y/N hadn't slept that well in years, probably. With a content sigh, she snuggled up into the pillow, taking a deep breath in- ...Citrus. Huh. Bizarre. As she moved under the covers, she realized she wasn't wearing any clothes. Or, well... anything at all, for that matter. Double weird. But Y/N felt too content to care.  Until she heard a soft whimper right next to her. She opened her eyes wide in the darkened room.   Adrenaline and surprise pumped through her body, shaking off the blanket of sleep, and her body started noticing the little things: how she wasn't facing the wall, how softer than usual the pillow was. How she had someone's arm draped over her waist and how this person's breathing was shallow and quiet in the silent room. The purest feeling of dread replaced the surprise as she put all the elements together. "Oh, no," she whispered to herself in horror. The realization had frozen her into place. She KNEW where she was. Oh, Maker. No, no, no, no. She had NOT just- Okay. Breathe. As gently as possible, Y/N turned around, careful not to push the arm away. And, as she had expected —but it still gave her a near heart attack— she found herself facing the sleeping figure of Poe. He was still fast asleep, naked from the waist up —probably from the waist down, too— with one arm over her and one under his pillow. He was so peaceful. His curls fell on his eyes, a tousled mess Y/N wanted to run her fingers into. And even though her situation was alarming, she found herself pushing back the inevitable by observing him. Poe was rarely so relaxed. It was almost a little bit frightening, to be honest. But he was also so well-rested. Unbothered.  Y/N imagined he would freak out as much as she was upon waking up himself, so she committed this peaceful image to her memory. She had done it again; she had slept with a coworker. It was far worse this time, as he was her squad leader, General, and friend. She would be grateful if the ground could crack open and swallow her whole. But that didn't happen. Instead, Poe moved around in his sleep, tightening his hold on her skin, not enough to be uncomfortable but enough to bring her closer.  It made Y/N wish she could stay like this. Because now that the initial shock had worn off, she was left with wishful thinking and contentment. It was, in all fairness, a sight to behold. Poe was handsome in many ways. Being privileged enough to witness him like this was... ethereal. It made Y/N wish for it to happen again. But that was a dangerous path to go down.  It couldn't happen again. What Y/N and Poe had done would have momentous consequences, and if she hoped to salvage what was left of their professional and friendly relationship, Y/N had to get out of there. Put an end to whatever this had been. This... this escapade.  Realistically, Y/N knew they would have to talk about it. But she would rather not do that here, in bed, as they both realized what their drunken selves had done the night prior. She hated herself for what she was about to do, but it was for the best. Or at least, she tried to convince herself it was because, truthfully, she was running away as she had always done.   Resisting the urge to kiss him before leaving, Y/N gently pulled his arm from her body, putting it in her spot as she rolled out of the way, surveilling his every move, ready to fake being asleep should he open his eyes. He didn't. He truly was out cold. Good, he deserved every ounce of rest he could get. Now that Y/N was free from his arms she had never wanted to leave, she sat on the edge of the bed, looking around for her clothes. She had discarded them the night before and found them scattered across the room. Y/N would have no choice but to walk back in her party attire; that made her wince. She was dead if she met ANYONE at all on the way back. She tiptoed out of Poe's room, stopping in the doorway against her better judgment. Every atom of her body was screaming at her to turn around and have one last look at him. And she caved in because her self-control when it came to him was nonexistent. She tentatively looked over her shoulder, admiring his sleepy silhouette. Her heart broke a little. It was for the best.  So why did she feel like crying? Fuck. Y/N wanted to stay. She wanted all of this.  But she was also terrified. From the bottomless pit of her puzzled mind, a sentence rose. A murmur emanated from a foreign memory. "Fear is the path to the dark side... Fear leads to anger… Anger leads to hate." Luke's voice vanished from her mind. The door closed behind Y/N with a soft whooshing sound.   Though it was early, the base was still very much awake. Droids cruised around, and people strolled in the hallways with their eyes glued to their holopads. Y/N had to turn her walk into an infiltration mission, and the similarity with her trips to Kit's room certainly didn't help quell her anxiety regarding the worrying parallels between the two situations. Still, after a careful trip hiding in the shadows, prickling her ear for any footstep, Y/N had reached her door with palpable relief. She exhaled as she typed in her code— "Oh, morning, Y/N! I was coming over to check on you." She froze. Klana's voice was ever so chipper, greeting her friend with warm enthusiasm. Paralyzed by shame, Y/N turned around slowly, mustering a smile on her face. "Oh, hey, Klan'. I'm alright." The brunette stopped dead in her tracks as her eyes raked over her, taking in her clothes. "...Why are you wearing last night's outfit?" She sounded less suspicious than she probably was. Before Y/N could stutter an answer, realization dawned on Klana. "By Malachor, you didn't sleep here-" Y/N dragged her friend inside the room and shut the door before she could get another word out.  
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  When Poe woke up that morning, it was with a pounding headache and the unsettling impression of having, quite literally, fucked up. Also, he was pleasantly sore, but that wasn't from the alcohol. With a soft grunt and while keeping his eyes closed, he rolled over to the other side of the bed, draping his arm around- Air. Okay. What? It, at least, served to wake him up. He cracked an eye open as his fingers grazed against the —still— lukewarm sheets. Empty. Where was she? Perhaps in the shower? He stilled but couldn't hear the water running. Or anything else, for that matter, except for the soft wheezing sound BB-8 made when he rolled around. It was eight-thirty in the morning already; the droid had been awake for a little while. He wasn't speaking with her, so she wasn't here anymore. Wait. Had Poe imagined it all? Was it all a fever dream? Dank Farrik; that would be the most anticlimatic —pun intended— turn of events he could conceive. Regardless, he needed some aspirin, stat. Finding his discarded sweatpants on the floor, he muttered a half-assed "I'm fine" to his droid, who had peeked through the open door, not bothering to turn on the lights higher than the minimal setting as he closed the bathroom door behind him. Blinding lights were above his strength for now. A quick look in the mirror told him he looked as bad as he felt. Messy hair, five o'clock shadow, dark circles; he had looked better. He turned the tap on with a long sigh and splashed some cold water on his face, hoping it would wake him up. It didn't, not really. So, with another grunt, Poe rummaged through his cabinet, popped some tablets in his hand, and swallowed them without a second thought. He had almost gone through the box and would need Feron to give him more of it.  As he turned back to the cabinet, he caught a glimpse of his back in the mirror and turned his back toward it, realizing that the skin was a complete and utter mess. Red, angry scratches adorned it and- Kriff. Firstly, it hadn't been a dream, and secondly, she had done a number on him. It would take a while to heal, and Maker, Poe sure hoped he wouldn't have to take his shirt off in front of anyone, or he would be busted in a second. ...But he had to admit it made him slightly proud. Y/N had drawn blood in several spots, and he imagined she wasn't in a better state. The marks he had left on her would last a few days at best, and the bruises were sure to stay— Okay, he seriously needed a cold shower. It was NOT a good idea to go there. What the hell, what had gotten into him?! He turned the water on and hopped in the shower without bothering to wait for it to heat up. The tiny droplets felt like needles in his scratched skin, and he winced but didn't step outside. What was WRONG with him? Sleeping with a coworker? Sleeping with a pilot in his squad? Kriff, that was the worst idea he had ever had, which was saying a lot.  Sure, Y/N would probably argue it wasn't a big deal- after all, she had done it before (which pissed him off, by the way, because Kit wasn't nearly good enough for her). But she wasn't his General; he should have known better. He did know better. But he would have been lying to himself if he feigned not to have thought about it before. Okay, perhaps he had thought about it more often than he cared to admit. But that wasn't an excuse. Kriff. Okay, sure, she hadn't pushed him away, but what if she had felt pressured or something— ...No, she would have kicked his ass if she had. And boy, was he glad she hadn't. The night's images kept playing in his head; he hadn't had that much fun in a long time. Oh, he had enjoyed watching her squirm- Okay, no, that was NOT a good idea; he needed to get a grip. Seriously. He cursed under his breath. Deciding to focus on something else, he showered, then went on to shave, careful not to break the skin. As he wiped off his razor on the towel, he caught himself wondering if his beard had left marks down her- "Kriffing Hell!" he cursed out loud as droplets of blood trickled down the sink, startling the droid in the other room. BeeBee beeped, worried, and he grumbled an apology as an answer. It was going to be a long day.    Dressed and ready to face the day, despite the pounding headache that didn't care about his General duties, he stepped out of his quarters, his droid on his heels. He had reassured him at least five times that he was fine, despite obviously being in a mood. He was pissed at himself, mainly because he couldn't help but feel proud that he had managed to spend the night with a woman like her.  Poe shot tight smiles at the fellow soldiers walking around the compound as he made his way toward the cafeteria. If she were anywhere at this hour, it would be there. He knew her schedule by heart; Y/N had a day off that day. She would probably spend it with her students, so he had to corner her before she disappeared into the crowd, making it impossible for him to get her alone. They needed to talk. He just wasn't too sure what he was going to say. Apologize? Ask her out properly- Oh, no, that was NOT an option.  He didn't have more time to think about it as he finally reached the door. As usual, people greeted him, and he waved back absentmindedly, his eyes going straight to the table she, Skylen, and Klana would usually sit at. But the two women were nowhere to be seen that morning. Skylen, though, was there, and Poe walked up to him. "Morning, General," he saluted light-heartedly. "You look like hell." Poe rolled his eyes at that as his pilot snickered. Yeah, he imagined he gave off strong hangover vibes. "Yeah, whatever you say, Blue. Remember that time at the Senate?" Skylen flipped him off and grumbled as Poe snickered. Yeah, thought so. "Anyway. Have you seen Y/N this morning?" He tried to sound casual, but hungover Poe was not subtle. But if Skylen noticed his awkwardness, he didn't comment on it. Instead, he stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Nah. I haven't seen Duckling since last night. Come to think of it, I haven't seen Klan' today either. Whatever these two are doing, it's probably a girl thing. She might've been kidnapped to try on new clothes for her. I swear all of her kriffing credits go into fancy stuff. Y/N's a saint for putting up with it." He couldn't argue with that. Klana had taken a liking to dressing her up, and she didn't seem to mind. Well. Considering what she had been wearing the night before, Poe certainly didn't mind either. "Okay, well, I'll send a search party, then. Have you seen Finn?" He nodded toward the end of the room, where his co-leader was sitting with a pile of pancakes. Sending a quick thank you to Skylen, he walked up to Finn. "Poe! Good morning-" "We need to talk. NOW. It's urgent."    Finn frowned. "Can it wait after I've finished eating? Because they're delicious, and I would hate for them to go to waste-" "No."   Finn rolled his eyes, sent a sad look to his food, and put the plate on a waiter-droid. The urgency in Poe's tone had probably convinced him not to ask questions for now. He followed his friend in the hallway until they reached Poe's office. He ushered Finn inside, closed the door, and let out a loud grunt. He started pacing, trying to find a way to just come out with it already. Finn watched in silence, sending quizzical looks to BeeBee. "Okay, if you made me come here to have me watch as you ruin the floor, I'll-" "I fucked up, Finn. As in, big time." Finn raised an eyebrow. "I mean... You have a habit of stirring up trouble, so you'll have to be more specific here. What did you blow up this time?" Okay, first of all, rude, second of all... "What? Nothing! Why would you think- okay, actually, never mind, don't answer that. I didn't blow anything up. I mean, maybe I did. I don't know." He ran a hand through his hair, growing increasingly frustrated.  "Okay, it can't be that bad then, can it?" He WISHED he had just blown something up, honestly. When Finn noticed his friend wasn't answering, he frowned. "Okay, you're scaring me, Poe." "I slept with her," he blurted out.  It took Finn a second to comprehend what he meant. And when he finally did- Both he and BB-8 gasped. "You did WHAT?!" BEEEEEP? "Yeah, that was pretty much the reaction I'd been expecting," Poe muttered as he started pacing again. Finn stared at him, baffled. "Her, as in-" "As in Y/N, yes. Maker, who else? She walked me to my room yesterday since I'd drunk too much. I asked her to come inside. She stayed the night. I'm a Kriffing MORON-" "FINALLY!" Finn exclaimed. ...Wait, what? He turned to his friend, disbelief written all over his face. Finn shrugged.  "Don't look at me like that. I'm surprised it took you so long, honestly. Maybe now you'll stop undressing each other with your eyes across the room." BeeBee beeped approvingly. Seriously?! Poe scoffed. "We've never done that! Also, not helping. Kriff, I'm her leader, and that's the worst thing I could have done." "I don't know; threatening her with a lightsaber seems higher on my list." He glared at Finn, who held up his hands in surrender. "Okay, okay! I get it! Not in the mood to joke around! Listen, Poe, you two are grown adults, and besides, she's used to this situation. I'm sure she told you that already." Silence. Finn frowned harder. If he went on like that, he would have wrinkles on his face before his next birthday. "...You did talk to her, right?" "No." "Poe, what-" "She wasn't there when I woke up. She snuck out." Finn cackled. "Man, you've lost your touch."   Okay, he was NOT going to let that one fly. With a sneer, he turned around, raising his shirt over his head and exposing his back. Finn cursed. "What the hell? Were you attacked by a loth cat or something?" Poe dropped his shirt down and rolled his eyes. "You're so funny. Trust me, that's not the problem. I don't know why Y/N left. And I don't even know where she is or what I'm gonna tell her when I see her. 'Cuz right now, I can't even get the images of last night out of my head. So facing her and speaking with her? Man, I'm screwed." He sat down on his desk, shoulders slumped. Finn observed him in silence for a few moments and sighed. "Don't be so hard on yourself; it was bound to happen. I mean, you two have a thing for each other. But must pull yourself together, Poe; you're still her boss. Talk to her. Maybe ask her out properly." He shook his head. "Hell, no. That's drama waiting to happen, and I can't do that." "But you want to." "I- well, you see- no! I mean... I don't- well, maybe I- I don't know. It doesn't matter anyway. We all have a million things on our plates right now. I think she's gonna start her Jedi training soon; that's the last thing she should worry about." He sensed that Finn wanted to add something, but his friend stayed silent, nodding thoughtfully.  "If you say so. You two need to talk, though. If Leia and Han could work it out, I'm sure you can, too." Poe chuckled. "Leia was something else, and you know it. But you're right. I have to talk to her. We have to work together after that, and I don't wanna make her uncomfortable or anything. Kriff. I'm an idiot." For the umptieth time, he ran a hand through his hair. At this rate, he would be bald by the end of the day. "Hey, it'll be fine. Y/N's a smart woman and way too wicked for her own good and yours. Just... talk. Figure it out. Tell her what you told me." Okay, yes, he could do that. Poe frowned, taking a second to think. "Have I told you I'm happy you accepted to be my co-general?" Finn burst out laughing. "You did. But if it takes me giving you non-relationship advice to hear it more often, I hope you two will be a thing soon." He was still cackling after Poe had tried to throw a pen at him.   
Panic attack panic attack panic attack paniiiic- Slap. Y/N stood still, cradling her injured cheek, mouth agape, as the sting of Klana's hit made her skin all tingly. "What in the HELL was that for?!" she squeaked. Klana shrugged, clearly unimpressed. "You're hyperventilating, and it's not going to solve anything. Now, please, tell me, what happened? Did you kill someone? Because I can totally help you with the body." What- "What? No, I- wait, why is this the first thing you're thinking about?" Y/N asked, baffled, and her friend merely shrugged. "I don't know! Anyway. If there's no body involved, what happened? You're freaking me out." Y/N let out a long sigh, trying to exhale the frustration and sheer panic she had been feeling since she had woken up in Poe's bed. "There's no body, but there was someone," she started, to Klana's confusion if the frown on her face was any indication. "I... Kriff. I kinda. Sorta. Slept with Poe. Kinda. Maybe." The sound that followed her confession could only be described as 'shrill' as Klana let out a high-pitched scream of surprise, jumping to her feet with eyes wide as Coruscant. Y/N jumped after her and clamped her mouth shut with her hand. "Will you SHUT UP?!" she hissed. "My walls aren't soundproof! I'm not trying to attract half of the base here!" Her skin was still vibrating for a few seconds before Klana calmed down. She gave her a stern look. "You done?" The brunette nodded, and Y/N finally let go of her mouth, only to find a big grin replacing the look of surprise. She was smiling so broadly that she was sure she could see all of her teeth. "Okay, but seriously, Y/N, what's the problem?" Seriously? "Didn't you hear the part where I slept with a coworker?" "Well, yes-" "Again." "It's true you have some kind of habit-" "Who also happens to be an excellent friend." "Well, yes, but you can still-" "And my General." "True, but-" "And my squad leader." This time, Klana pinched her lips, thoughtful. Her brown eyes were detailing her friend with an excruciating level of attention.  She ended up speaking up again after a few moments of intense pondering. "I mean, I'm not saying you did not just shoot yourself in the leg with that one." That was a gentle way of saying she had royally fucked up. Y/N flopped down on the bed, letting out an aggravated sigh. Then, she fell back with a pathetic whine and a dramatic arm flail. "I hate myself. This is Kit all over again. Oh, Maker. What have I done? I can't go back to work. I need to quit. I can't face Poe after that." Klana sat next to her, putting a reassuring hand on her knee. "You're not going to quit; you're returning to work. What did Poe tell you?" Silence. "Y/N." "That's my name." "Please tell me you didn't run away." "No." "That's great, then-" "I technically walked away," she added.  Klana blinked. "Mother of Force, give me the strength I need," her friend all but groaned. "You snuck out of his room?! Y/N! That's not okay!" "I panicked!" Y/N defended herself, sitting back up. "I woke up in his room, naked, hungover, in his arms, and I freaked out!" "Why? I'm sure you could have talked about it. Poe's an intelligent man, and you're both adults. I'm sure you can sort it out." "Because I had absolutely zero regrets, and I realized I very much like waking up next to him," Y/N blurted out.   This took Klana by surprise, and she stayed silent for a moment, looking at he friend with a frown. "You like him," she said with a grin. "Maker, Klana. Of COURSE, I like him. And I don't want to lose my friend, and I don't... I don't think I could live with that," she whispered. Klana sighed. "Slightly dramatic, but I understand. Y/N, be honest... Do you have feelings for him?" She looked away, and Klana sighed once more. She had screwed things up, and she knew it. Y/N knew their relationship would never be the same, no matter what happened next. It terrified her, and her throat felt tight. Mainly because of the feelings that had bloomed when she had turned around and looked at him. Peace. Happiness.  Home. It wasn't normal to feel like this after a one-night stand with a friend. It wasn't normal to feel like this with a friend, period. But they were primarily colleagues in a Galaxy on the brink of losing its mind over new enemies and old mysteries. There was no time for an office romance. It was a distraction. Feelings were a distraction.  Having feelings for your squad leader was a deadly distraction. "You still need to talk to him. Realistically speaking, you can't ignore him. And don't tell me 'I can try'; I will slap you again." Y/N knew she was right. She ran a hand through her hair. "I know. I will. But not now." Klana nodded. "Why don't you ask him out, though? I mean... It's pretty obvious you two like each other. If the job wasn't an issue, would you go on a date with him?" "No." Klana raised a surprised eyebrow and whistled lowly. "That was a quick answer." "It's not what you think," Y/N corrected herself. "But if I decide to start the Jedi training, we're not supposed to have... Feelings. At least, not intense ones. It's in the books. Historically, the Jedi were abstinent. That ship has sailed, but I'll do my best to follow the rest of their teachings." A humming sound was the only answer she got. "Did you know Luke revoked that?" Y/N blinked. What part? The abstinence part? How could she know? She didn't remember her time as his Padawan. "The whole thing about not having feelings," Klana explained. "I met him once, and we talked about it. He always said that repressing feelings was what caused Vader's downfall. He was more about learning to accept them and embracing love," she concluded. "Because love is the most powerful weapon one can wield. Even the Force can't compare. Love is what brought Ren back. It was Leia's ultimate gift to him, and it saved him." Y/N didn't know that. "How do you know that?" she whispered. Klana shrugged. "Rey told me once. So, no, Y/N. Suppressing your feelings won't make you a good Jedi. It might just do the opposite. But you should talk to Rey about that if you're worried," she added. "She knows about all of this. Loving people isn't a weakness, Y/N. It takes strength to be vulnerable in a world that is constantly looking to crush you."   Klana stood up, mindlessly tidying the spot she had just been sitting in. "Whatever you decide, know Poe cares about you. I never told you that, but there's a reason he was pissed for the entire mission on Tatooine and on the way back. There's a reason he does not like Kit." Oh, yes, she knew they hated each other. Y/N snorted. "They were enemies for their entire lives. You don't erase that in a day." "Yes. But it's also because Kit's still in love with you, and he hates it." Silence. Y/N winced. She had tried her best not to think about that, but... "I know you're right," she sighed. "I was hoping I was wrong and nobody else had noticed." "For the record, I'm only telling you this because I want you to understand," Klana went on. "Poe cares about you. Probably more than he would like to admit, and if he hates him that much, it's because he thinks you deserve better." "Did he tell you all of this?" "Oh, no, he would never. He isn't smart enough to hide it from me," Klana shrugged nonchalantly. Y/N laughed. It was all wishful thinking, but she wouldn't tell Klana that. She could do with admitting they were attracted to each other. But... That was it. She smiled. "I see. I'll talk to Poe. After a shower and a nap." "You do that. I have a mission coming up, and I need to go. But we'll talk later when I get back, okay?" She gave Y/N a quick hug, and they parted ways. As the door closed on her friend, Y/N sighed. She wouldn't face Poe. Not yet.   It turned out that running away from the General was a more strenuous task than she had anticipated. Everything seemed to put him in her path. She went to the cafeteria to grab some food, only to see him walking toward the door, eyes glued to his datapad. She walked past the room and around the hallway, going in only when she was sure he was gone. Then, she was headed for the training room and found him there, unscheduled, with a group of his usual students. Their eyes met, and Y/N stopped dead in her tracks. Oh, no. But fate was on her side as one of her students stepped in, asking her about some random issue he had. Y/N was more than happy to give him an overly thorough explanation, and when they were done, she realized Poe had left already, likely called back to his duties. The third time they met, she almost didn't manage to avoid him. Working on her X-Wing in the hangar, Y/N hadn't heard his footsteps over the cacophony of metallic noises until it was too late. It wasn't until she turned around to grab a screwdriver that she realized he was walking toward her. She had dropped the tool in the process. "Hey, Y/N. Do you have-" "General! There you are! There's an issue with the latest weapon shipment," Varun had interrupted, stopping between them, out of breath. "I've been trying to fix it, but they want to talk to you. I have them on the line right now. Can you please talk some sense into them before I break something?" Bless him. Poe stared at Y/N for a long time. "...I'm coming," he answered calmly after a few seconds. But the look he gave Y/N was enough to get her to glance away, bashfully staring at her shoes as the two men went to work. The fourth time... She didn't get so lucky.   After successfully avoiding Poe for the entire day, Y/N was making her way back to her room when she was yanked —unceremoniously yanked— into a storage room. Something grabbed her wrist, and she broke free with precise movements, sparring in the dark until she found herself pinned to the wall. "Hey! Easy!" "Poe?! What the- Are you out of your mind?!" she yelped. "I could have broken your nose!" "Yes, I'm aware of that; you barely missed my face," he grumbled, letting go of her. She could see him now that her eyes were acclimated to the room's dimness. "That's because you literally just kidnapped me." "Considering you've been avoiding me for the entire day, yes, I did decide to kidnap you," he stated matter-of-factly with audible annoyance. Ouch. She deserved that. "I wasn't avoiding you," she stubbornly mumbled. "No, you're right. You were strategically finding any excuse to run on the other side of the base the second you saw me." Well... Oh, Maker. When he said it like that, he made it sound so much worse than it was. "We need to talk," he softly added after a moment of silence. Y/N shook her head. "This? This sentence? It's the exact reason I've been avoiding you!" She shrilled. "There's nothing wrong with-" "You know it's the worst thing you can tell someone." "I could think of at least ten things that are worse-" "You're so not helping." He sighed. "But you're right," Y/N added in a small voice. "We do need to talk, and I'll... I'll go first." Oh, Force. There it was.   It didn't help that the room was so small he wasn't even a meter away, his gaze as intense as ever and fixed on her. Gulp. She licked her lips three times before mustering enough courage to speak up. "I'm sorry for leaving this morning. I panicked," Y/N admitted. "I woke up and saw you, and I couldn't remember how I ended up here. And it's not the first time, either," she sighed. "You're my squad leader, Poe. I shouldn't have... I was scared of what you'd say. I'm still terrified, actually." She paused. "Please don't kick me off the squad," she whispered. "Okay, hold on, now," he interrupted, raising his hands. "First of all, you're not getting kicked off anything. Second of all, what happened yesterday was..." He pondered for a second. If he said "a mistake," Y/N would have a heart attack. "I'm not going to say 'a mistake' because that would be a lie," he sighed. "But it was... Something. And I know you've been in this position before, and I'm sorry I've put you back in it." Whew. He certainly had put her into a specific position the night before, though- Oh, Force, shut up, Y/N. Kriff. "Now... What do you mean you don't remember?" Oh, no, she didn't mean it like that- ...Wait a second.   Could it be... Could it be her way out? No. She couldn't do that. Lying to Poe had always been out of the equation. She would never lie to him. He deserved the truth. He deserved... He deserved to live without any worries.  She just couldn't add more to his plate. "I mean... I remember some things," she answered, stressing out the word. "But not... I mean, it's a bit blurry." It was the tiniest lie she could tell. It wasn't entirely false, either. But she remembered very clearly everything he had done. Everything he had said to her.  The alcohol. It had been the alcohol. "Listen. I know it was a one-time thing, and I don't want to make things weird. You're a really great friend, Poe. I don't want to lose that, and I don't..." I don't want to lose you.   He stayed silent for the longest time. He was staring, though, and there had been the slightest spark of something in his eyes. A definitive indication that he had heard her. The silence stretched on, and Poe licked his lips. Was it wrong to wish he would just kiss her again like he had done the night before? Because Y/N couldn't think about anything else. "Do you really mean that?" he asked after an eternity. What? Mean what? Why did it sound like a trick question? Was it a trick question? What did he want her to say? The truth? Because the truth was that Y/N didn't regret a thing. She didn't want it to be a one-time thing. But she couldn't tell him that. Not now. Not with everything that was unfurling. "Of course," she answered with a fake frown.  He hummed, looking to the side as he thought of something.  "I'm disappointed, though," he added after a moment. "I was hoping you'd help me remember because, ah, well... I might have had too much to drink yesterday." He paused, rubbing the back of his neck, then winced. "Okay, understatement of the century. I was drunk as hell." She burst out laughing. It was SO unexpected! "Oh, I know that. I distinctly remember having to walk you to your room because you could barely stand." "Come on; it wasn't that bad." "Oh, it definitely was that bad." He snorted. "Easy now. I carried you to your room more than once." "Look at you, trying to dig yourself out of this one." Poe grimaced. "Yeah, well... I just hope I didn't say anything too embarrassing." Quite the contrary. Y/N's heart broke a little. He always had the gift of saying the right thing. And what he had told her the night before...  Never mind. It was the alcohol talking. "I'm sure you didn't. At least, nothing more embarrassing than usual." He punched her shoulder before she could let out a giggle. But after a few seconds, he joined her, and both laughed.   What had she been afraid of? Poe hadn't changed. Nothing had changed. It was wishful thinking to consider it would have. "Did I hurt you?" Y/N nearly jumped out of her skin when he spoke up again, his voice quiet. Hurt her? as in... Physically? Was that what he was afraid of? "No, you didn't. You did leave some, ah... Well. Let's just say I'll need to borrow some makeup from Klana for a couple of days to hide the purple spots," she joked to lighten the mood. Poe hummed. "You have no right to complain about that. You clearly haven't seen my back." What? His back- He turned and raised his shirt slightly, earning a gasp from Y/N. No. She had NOT. "I am SO sorry," she whispered, absolutely horrified, but he merely chuckled. "It's fine, honestly. I'm not worried about it." Outside of the room, voices whispered unintelligible nothings as they walked by. Neither of them said anything, but the silence wasn't as comfortable as it usually was. Some things did change, after all. "Y/N. We're still friends, aren't we?" What? "Of course, we're still friends, Poe," she answered without missing a beat. "Nothing could ever... As long as you don't threaten me with a lightsaber, we're good." "Good. Okay. I don't own one, anyway. That's great." "Good." "Good." "Well, I should probably-" "Yes. Me, too. I'm late to a meeting; Finn is gonna kill me." "Right, well, don't let me keep you. I'll go first. Uh, see you tomorrow at work?" "Right. See you, Keebler." She gave him an awkward smile and slipped past him, through the door, and into the hallway, letting out a sigh she hadn't realized she was holding.   Poe cursed. Fuck. He had just ruined everything, hadn't he? Lying about not remembering? Letting her brush it off like it was- No. Y/N was right. It had been a one-time thing. This was what he had told Finn. He had promised he wouldn't interfere anymore. It meant nothing; they were still friends. No matter what he felt like. He ran a frustrated hand over his face and hair before kicking an empty bucket lying at his feet. Poe wasn't stupid; he had seen the change of behavior, the ever-so-noticeable angst in her voice. It made him slightly concerned that he knew her that well.  Defeated, he left the storage room, nearly walking into BB-8, who didn't dare to ask anything.  "You know, BeeBee, maybe one day I'll have the chance to start living my life," he sighed.
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plainemmanem · 2 years
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okay but can I request a protective!Poe ? Chapter ten gave me protective vibes and fuck I'm a slut for those
i am also an absolute whore for protective poe, so let's see a little more of him shall we? also, i havent done a lot of writing from poe's pov, so i thought i would try it out! i had so many ideas bouncing around in my head for this ask (p.s. i actually wrote like three different versions of this lol, im sorry it took so long) but i hope you enjoy <3
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It was supposed to be an easy mission.
Enter the planet, meet the informant, and leave. Nothing out of the ordinary.
But the second Poe's foot touched solid ground, he knew something was off.
It was a set up, a particularly clever one at that, and Poe quickly found himself in a waking nightmare:
Torture. On the Starkiller Base. Face-to-face with none other than Kylo Ren himself.
Ren had been hunting Poe for years. As a close confidante to Leia before her passing, Poe held top secret knowledge that could be detrimental the Resistance. Poe, or at least his mind, had great value to Ren.
He just had to squeeze that information out of him.
It was obviously a trap, sending a hologram of Poe's torture directly to D'Qar. Ren knew someone from the Resistance would come for him soon after, but he had been particularly hopeful it would be you.
Who better to incentivize Poe than his own fiance?
And you knew you it was a trap. You knew it was selfish to go after him. But you slipped away in the night anyways, taking great care not to alert the rest of the base, knowing they would do anything to prevent you from leaving. Lock you up, knock you out. Whatever it took.
But you couldn't stop yourself.
The hologram Ren had sent was....
You couldn't not go.
His poor screams rang through your head the whole flight there.
You didn't even have a plan. You just needed to get to him, as soon as possible. You would offer yourself, trade places with him, join the First Order, it didn't matter. You just had to make sure he was safe.
Poe had begged you not to come in the hologram, but you couldn't stop yourself. Thoughts of Poe's lifeless corpse prevented any sound judgment.
Poe prayed you wouldn't come. He needed you safe. He didn't care if he died, he just needed to make sure you stayed put.
He tried to remain strong against Ren's torture, occasionally cracking jokes and holding in his screams, but his determination was slowly wearing thin. Every time he closed his eyes, your face flashed through his mind.
Your smile, your face when you first woke up, your concentrated stare. He could swear you were right there with him.
And then you were.
Ren had caught you easily, immediately dragging you to the interrogation room himself.
"I want you to see for yourself," his voice was muffled through the mask.
Poe felt so weak, he barely even reacted when Ren brought you in. He couldn't even be sure you were real. You could merely a hallucination, a sadistic trick of the mind.
But, unfortunately, this was no trick.
Ren released Poe from the chair, his limp body collapsing on the floor.
Poe could tell your arms were restrained. You didn't even try to run.
"Maker, Poe!" you tried moving towards him, but Ren quickly got a hold of you, despite your violent thrashing.
Poe's mind screamed at him to say something, to do anything, but he could barely find the strength to catch his breath.
Ren swiftly kicked him aside, now securing you to the chair to take Poe's place.
Poe made a sad attempt to stand, even managing to push himself up partially, but he couldn't do much more than that.
His brain felt like it was on fire. He could barely swallow, his mouth was so dry, and it felt like electricity was pumping through his veins.
He peered up from the ground, catching your eyes immediately.
You had been crying. He so desperately wanted to reach out and brush your tears away; he hated when you cried. His heart constricted tightly in his chest before he turned a fiery gaze upon Ren.
"L-Let her g-go. She has n-nothing to do with th-this..."
Ren stooped down to meet his gaze. All Poe could see was his own reflection staring back at him in the mask.
"She has everything to do with this."
Ren rose once again, now stepping back to face you and scanning you from head to toe.
You harshly looked away, avoiding his gaze and setting your jaw tightly.
"I'm not afraid of you," Poe could hear your voice wavering slightly.
Taking a small step closer, Ren grabbed your face roughly before turning you to meet his gaze.
"You will be."
Your eyes were filled with fire, but your jaw still held a slight tremble.
"Don't worry," Ren's whisper was almost undecipherable behind the mask, but Poe could hear him loud and clear. "It will be over quickly."
"Enough," Poe slowly started to gain back some of his strength, and was managing to make it back on his feet. "You already have me."
Suddenly, Ren thrusted his hand toward him, sending Poe flying backwards into the concrete wall behind him. All the air in Poe's lungs vanished before he quickly sank back down to his knees.
Ren released his gloved grip on your face, now turning his full attention towards the pilot beneath him.
Poe could practically feel rage seeping through Ren's mask as he stalks towards him.
"Join me." The words were so simple, yet so biting.
Poe snarled lowly, disgust washing over him.
"Never." He spat the word like venom at the man towering above him.
Ren turned abruptly to you, determination in his stride.
"I feel I can persuade you," Ren replied succinctly. His voice was almost robotic. Hollow, void of emotion. It was inhuman.
He took another step towards you, reaching his hand out before him and holding it just in front of your face.
Poe watched in horror as your face slowly contorted in agony, eyes narrowing and brow furrowing. He knew exactly what you were feeling. He could practically feel the searing pain splitting through his own head.
You put up a good fight, holding in your screams, but Poe knew it would only be a matter of time.
"Stop!" the pilot yelled, voice desperate and frantic.
Ren persisted, your head starting to fall back, all your muscles becoming taught. Piercing shrieks ripped through your body, and Poe could feel himself truly starting to panic.
His mind raced. Joining the First Order was out of the question, but he couldn't live in a world without you in it.
"This will kill her. Eventually," Ren uttered to Poe, never breaking his ministrations on your mind. "It will take time, but I can wait while you make up your mind."
Breaking you was easy for Ren, and Poe sensed you starting to slip. Poe's eyes shot from Ren to you, his pulse quickening and his body igniting with adrenaline.
"Stop! Stop, enough! I-I'll join you. The First Order, I'll join you! I'll leave the Resistance." He knew he must have looked insane, his eyes wide with fear and his voice full of desperation. "Just... just let her go."
Ren finally halted, your body falling forward and going limp. Little aftershocks still ripped through your body as you barely lifted your head to shoot Poe a sorrowful look. Your tears fell like raindrops to the ground below and all Poe could think about was how he never wanted to see you in pain ever again.
Ren quickly spun back to Poe, tilting his head slightly at Poe's decision.
"N-no!" you yelled, voice raw and vulnerable. "No, take me! I'll tell y-ou anything- Anything you want-t!"
Ren froze at that. He almost seemed to be contemplating this new development.
But Poe couldn't understand why. Taking you would make no sense. Ren had been after Poe for years. Why was he even considering you over him?
Ren turned fully to face you, giving you another look up and down, before heading to the door and ripping it open. Two troopers stood at attention outside, waiting patiently to receive orders.
"Bring the girl to a cell," Ren barked at them harshly. "And take him outside." He turned, giving Poe one final glance. His face was impossible to read behind the mask. "He's going home."
"Wh-?" Poe stumbled to his feet, shock making his blood run cold. "No!"
The guards swiftly rushed in, releasing you from the chair. One guard began to drag you out of the room, while the other grabbed Poe by the arms to be restrained.
"No!" Poe roughly shoved him away, rushing towards you and grabbing your face with both hands. You looked so weak, all the color running from your face as if the life was literally draining out of you. "I-I'll come back. I won't leave you. I'll get you out of here. I love y-"
You couldn't even speak as the guard hauled you from the room, your feet still dragging behind you.
"No, wait! No!" Poe fought off the guard, rushing after you once again, if only to have you in his arms one last time.
"Requesting backup," Poe could hear the trooper call out behind him as he raced for the door.
Suddenly three more guards appeared before him. Poe threw as many kicks and punches as he could physically manage before the four guards had him fully restrained, two on each side of him forcing him to the ground.
Ren stalked out of the shadows of the room and stood before Poe once again, looking down at him as if he were a mere insect beneath him.
"She has potential. I feel she will do well here." Ren remained emotionless, speaking to Poe as if he had never met him before in his life.
"That wasn't the deal," Poe made one last attempt to break free of the guards' hold, thrashing about, to no avail. "She was never supposed to be a part of this!"
Ren gave him one last look before spinning and heading for the hallway follow after you.
"Things change."
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peterpparkrr · 1 year
Text
Drowning in the Light (5/?)
Chapter 5: Hope
Series: Drowning in the Light
Summary: The reader has returned to the rebellion with newfound hope. 
Word count: 2.3k
A/N: We're back! I wrote the scene with the calligraphy set before I wrote the rest of this fic way back when that book about the costumes and props included it and everyone lost their minds lol.
Pairing: Poe Dameron x F!Reader 
(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4)
playlist for this series can be found here. you can also read this series on ao3.
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“I have a job for you.”
The words hit you like a bantha to the chest. It was real. You were back. You’d tried to keep your distance. From this fight. It felt like too much. But now you had no other option. Kylo Ren and the First Order had made sure of that. 
And now they’d have to pay the price.
“But first, rest,” Leia tells you with a pointed look. “I’ll have someone show you to a room,” She says as she motions for someone to come over, telling them to find you an available room. 
“And get that cut on your leg checked out!” She adds as you start to walk away.
You pause and shoot Leia a glance over your shoulder. Shocked that she’d noticed what you’d considered a superficial injury.
“I’d notice your limp from a mile away,” She says when she sees your expression.
One of Leia’s aides walks you down a series of halls to a quiet part of the base away from the action and gives you a key fob that will give you access to the room. 
It’s small. But nice. A cot in one corner, a refresher in the other, and a small table in the middle of the room with rows of closed cupboards lining the wall. 
You manage to sit at the small table for about five minutes before you’re up again and wandering the corridors looking for the med bay. 
“Come to get that wound checked?” A medic with a tablet in her hands asks when you walk through the doors. 
“Oh, I’m actually here to check on a friend? Finn?” You ask as you glance down at your thigh a little self-consciously. You really didn’t think it was that bad, but everyone else seemed to notice it immediately, maybe it was the rip in your cargo pants that gave you away. Everyone else’s uniforms were perfectly in order.
“Ah,” She nods. “Well, you can do both.”
“Right, er,” You reply awkwardly.
The medic nods.
“I’ll show you where he is and then grab some materials to get you checked out.”
The medic brings you to the room where Finn is. He’s laying inside a glass pod, in some sort of body suit with tubes sprouting out of it and covering his whole body. 
“They’ll be able to wake him in a few days, but for now he has to stay in the coma so he can heal,” She tells you.
“So he’ll be okay?” You ask her.
You’ve known him for a few days. You’re basically strangers. But he nearly died trying to fight Ben. To protect you and Rey. And there’s just something about the pair that makes you feel a deeper connection to them. Like you’ve known them for years. 
Besides, it’s not like he has anyone else. 
And you know that feeling well. 
“Yes, he’s expected to make a full recovery,” She tells you with a small smile. “Can I take a look at that leg now?”
“Oh, yeah,” You reply as she gestures for you to take a seat in a chair nearby.
She brings over her own chair and you pull open the rip in your pants. The scar is already scabbed, that’s the joy of a lightsaber wound. It cauterizes itself. 
The medic gets to work on wrapping the wound quickly, dabbing on a salve after she’s cleaned it, and taping a bandage over it. She’s quick. Efficient. And has no interest in small talk, which you appreciate.
Just as she’s wrapping up you’re interrupted by Poe Dameron.
“Commander Dameron?” The medic says in surprise as she looks up at him. “I don’t see any broken bones,” She comments as she gives him a once-over.
“I’m here to see Finn,” He explains as he gestures to the pod that Finn is laying in.
“I’ll give the two of you some time with your friend,” The medic tells you once she finishes with the bandage, setting your foot back on the ground before leaving you and Poe Dameron alone.
“Hey,” He greets you.
“Paul,” You reply with a nod.
“It’s Poe,” He corrects you gently.
“I know,” You reply with an awkward chuckle. “Sorry, it’s just a thing I do sometimes. Cocky pilots usually need to be taken down a peg or two.”
“Is he going to be alright?” Poe asks as he glances over at Finn’s unconscious body.
“Yeah, I think so, the coma wass medically induced so he’ll heal faster, they said he’ll wake up in the next few days,” You tell him.
In all honesty, you’re surprised he’s here. He’s known Finn for fewer days than you have. A resistance pilot like Poe has met plenty of people, and had plenty of people help them out of scrapes. Usually, they’re not the type to visit those people in the medbay. Especially when they’re virtually strangers.
“Good,” Poe replies with a nod as he looks back at you. “That’s good.”
“He’s a fighter, I mean, you should have seen him, he just picked up the lightsaber and…” You trail off.
“Lightsaber?” Poe asks, his brows furrowing as he turns to look at you again.
“He and Rey, they fought Kylo Ren,” You tell him.
“I hadn’t heard.”
“I’ll give you some time alone with him,” You finally tell him. Poe doesn’t push you, asking more questions about what you said. Nor does he seem to mind the space.
“See you around,” He replies with a nod.
You offer him a small smile. 
“Poe,” You reply before heading out of the medbay. Thanking the medic on duty before heading back to your room.
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The next morning you’re sitting in bed when you hear a knock at your door.
“(Y/L/N)?” The officer confirms when you open the door. You nod and they hold up a small pack. “The General wanted you to have this.” 
You take the bag from them silently and they disappear back down the hallway before you close your door again and inspect the backpack.
There’s no way.
You’d completely forgotten. In the rush to leave your old life behind when you’d run off with Han and Chewie, you’d left what meager belongings you still had here on the base. And it looks like someone had been tasked with dragging them out of storage for you now that you were back.
It was just a backpack. In which you’d hastily packed everything of yours that wasn’t destroyed in the fire at the temple. You hadn’t so much as thought about it since you’d left. Never having the chance to miss what you’d chosen to forget.
You opened the bag to find the necklace you’d placed on top of your belongings before deciding to follow Han Solo and run away from your problems. The small kyber crystal’s faint glow was hardly noticeable and the thin leather cord you’d attached to it made the whole necklace rather unassuming, yet it had been your most prized possession as a padawan. You’d been out with Luke, Ben, and several other padawans to retrieve crystals so you could construct your own lightsabers. You’d grabbed a small shard, too small to make a lightsaber with so that you could have a keepsake of what had been the most important day of your life. 
Now, without a second thought, you pulled the necklace over your head to lay against your chest under your shirt. If you were going to be part of this fight you were going to need every bit of positive energy you could scrap together. 
The backpack then held the clothes that you’d been wearing the night of the attack. The jedi robes were so central to your identity in that past life, and were unwashed, still bearing the marks of what you’d faced before you’d fled to safety. 
Beneath them was the prized possession you were both eager to find and dreading to have to reckon with. You held the cold, slick metal in your hand, it was a familiar sensation despite you being years out of practice. You hesitated before pressing the activation button as the familiar whoosh of your lightsaber greeted you. You swung your blade slowly and hesitantly to confirm you still knew how to hold it before quickly powering it down and placing it on your bed, atop the clothing. 
When you reached into the bag again, trying to remember what else you’d managed to salvage, you felt it. Your fingers grazed the edges of the wooden box you hadn’t remembered taking. 
Ben’s calligraphy set. You hardly remembered what had compelled you to pick up the discarded belongings as you had made your way toward your ship. But some part of you, in that moment, wanted something of Ben and so you’d taken it with you as you scrambled through the dwindling flames.
You held it in your hands, carefully examining it before setting it down beside your other belongings. You no longer had any desire to hold on to it. Not after what he’d done. What you’d seen him become.
The knock at your door jolted you out of your trip down memory lane. You quickly jumped up and opened it to reveal Poe Dameron standing on the other side. 
“The general wants to see you in the control room,” He told you.
You huffed slightly before nodding, you quickly grabbed your jacket off the back of your chair and pulled it on. You saw Poe looking curiously at the belongings strewn across your bed and you glanced at your bed, hesitating for a moment before grabbing the calligraphy set and making your way out of your room. 
As you shut the door to your quarters Poe turned to you curiously, “Unpacking?”
“No.” You replied harshly as the two of you walked down the hall side by side.
“Are you planning on taking notes at this meeting?” He asks.
You stare blankly at him before he nods down at the calligraphy set you’re clutching tightly to your stomach. You look straight ahead as you answer. “It’s not mine.”
“Whose is it? Because I don’t think anyone on this base even knows how to write-”
“-It was Ben Solo’s,” You tell him. He stares back at you with such a shocked expression that for a second you’re tempted to tell him that it was just a joke. But you have no reason to lie. Leia knows your history. And you won’t hide it from anyone else. Not anymore. 
Poe quickly recovers and with one last sidelong glance at you and then the box you’re holding, he finally shuts up. 
“General,” You greet Leia as you and Poe stride up to her.
Leia looks up from her hushed conversation with a Lieutenant. “Oh, good,” She says with a smile, “I trust that you still know how to fly an x-wing? I’d like to promote you to Captain.”
“Leia...I don’t know if that’s a good idea,” You begin to protest. Taken aback by the blunt order.
“We both know you’re overqualified for that position, but I need you close,” Leia tells you gently. 
Of course, she does. You’re the loose thread tying her to her son, and now to Han. Both of whom she’s lost. 
And you should feel the same way. But it’s all a bit too much. 
You sigh before resigning yourself to your new reality. If you were going to stay, you needed to be useful. And after everything Leia has done for you over the years, you owe it to her to try and support her too.
“Okay,” You say after a moment. Your mouth pressed into a line as you granted her a nod. “I’ll do it.”
“Wonderful, I’ll get the ground crew to assign you to a squadron and find you a good x-wing,” Leia replies. “Connix, can you take care of that?”
“Right away, General,” Connix, the lieutenant, replies with her own sharp nod before disappearing. 
“You’ll be flying under Commander Dameron,” She replies. 
Poe nods wordlessly. You don’t have time to read into his quietness. 
“Oh, before you go,” You add. “I-I found this with all the stuff I left here, I just thought I’d see if you’d want to keep it,” You tell her as you thrust the calligraphy set toward her.
Leia takes a moment, looking down at the box without saying anything.
“I can throw it out if you don’t! I just thought-” You quickly add at her hesitation.
“No,” Leia says gently, cutting off your ramblings. “Thank you, (Y/N).”
You nod and hand her the box wordlessly before dismissing yourself.
“Poe, walk with me,” She says.
Leia leads Poe away from the hustle and bustle before turning to face him.
“She…” Poe mutters. Shaking his head. When they’d first met he’d thought he knew her type. He’d known women like her. Rough and abrasive types from his work before he became a pilot. But every interaction since had just left him with questions. He couldn’t make heads or tails of it.
“I’ve known (Y/N) since she was a child,” Leia tells Poe. “Her father was a representative in the new Senate with me. Their family is from Naboo. And then she went to study with my brother and son as a Jedi.”
“She was the only student who survived the massacre at my brother’s Jedi temple. She’d been traveling with Han for six years. Her parents were on Hosnian Prime working with the senate when the First Order destroyed the system.”
“She’s been through so much, and she just lost three of her parental figures in one day,” “She needs to fight. It’s her nature. But I need you to watch over her. There’s only so much loss a person can take before they… break.” 
“You mean... She’s a Jedi?” Poe asked in disbelief.
“She was,” Leia replied. A glint of something in her eyes as she glanced away from him for a moment. “But this war, it’s taken everything from her.” 
“Protect her, Poe,” She implored him. “I need your word that you’ll keep her safe.”
“I promise,” Poe replied with a nod. “I promise.”
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Mischief Managed
Pairing: Poe Dameron x fem!reader Warning: a little angst, fluff, teenage rebelion
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Shara owned the same level of mischief and disobeyed orders like her father. It wasn’t a wonder for you. From the minute you were holding her in your arms you knew she will be the second cause of your early grey hairs. What no one believed was how much more alike your daughter was to her grandmother. Kes once mentioned to you how much she looked like his late wife. You shrugged and sighted deeply.
You cursed the day Poe showed his daughter his old X-Wing. She was only a few months old but she already had the same spark in her eyes as her father. The day your husband took her up in the sky was the day you gave up the hope she wouldn’t be as much into piloting as the rest of her family. You still had your son Theo, who you still had hope wouldn’t be into flying in metal death traps as his big sister. After all, hope dies last.
You were coming back from the marketplace when Theo pointed at the missing X-Wing next to the house. “Papa wouldn’t fly away without saying goodbye to you and me, or would he mommy?” You frowned and shook your head. “No he wouldn’t, little sprout.” You walked into your family house and called out for Poe. But there was no answer. You gave your son the order to put away the groceries. He nodded and began to put them away, “And don’t crawl on the shelfs like last time. If you can’t reach it with a chair you leave it to me. Do you understand me?” He nodded, his brown locks falling into his face.
You walked up the stairs to Poe’s study and carefully opened the door. The man in question was sitting at his desk with headphones in and watching a holo vid with wrinkled eyebrows. Out of the corner of his eyes he saw you and stopped the video. He sat up but frowned as he saw your panicked face. “What’s wrong, stardust?” The grip on the doorhandle tightened as you looked at your husband, “Shara has your X-Wing.” Immediately Poe turned the comms on and turned them to the right sequence, “Shara, are you there. Are you listening, little star?” There was static and silence. You gnawed at your fingernails as the silence went on.
After a few minutes there were clicking sounds. “I’m there, dad. Everything is all right. Don’t worry.” Your hand loosened from the handle and with a fast pace you walked over to Poe’s working space, “Shara Leia Dameron! You land this flying death trap this instance or your punishment will get bigger than it already is.” You could here groaning before she mumbled a small okay.
A few minutes later you heard the space ship land. Poe took your hand and looked at you, trying to sooth you. “She is like me. Don’t be too harsh on her. I told you what I did. I don’t want my daughter to end up in a smuggler ring like me.” You took a deep breath and nodded.
Shara hopped down as you walked out your family home. She saw your worried look but wrongly interpretated it for a disappointed one. She looked down to the ground and kicked a stone.
Your daughter looked confused when her mother embraced her in a thigh hug. She looked to her father who just shrugged. “Please, little star. Please tell us when you are going to take the metal bird for a spin. I was so worried.” Shara hugged her mother tighter, snuggling her face into her neck. “I’m so sorry, mommy. I was so bored and I couldn’t find anyone. I wrote a note but I think it fell down from the kitchen counter. Next time I wait.”
You let go of her and nodded, “You better, or your punishment isn’t one week no flying and one week not helping your father with his X-Wing or anything in close proximity with the metal bird.” Shara groaned but nodded.
You went in before both her husband and oldest child. Shara trotted after you but was stopped by her father. He held up his hand and smirked slightly, “Good landing manoeuvre. Who taught you that?” Shara grinned mischievously and high fived her father.
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weasleywinchester · 2 years
Text
Please Don’t Tell Anyone (Pt. 3)
Part 1 | Part 2
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Poe Dameron x female reader
You know, I always try to keep cute fluffy ideas in my brain, and this literally came to me as I got in the shower. So enjoy some fluff and shenanigans bought to you by Rey
P.S. it’s not essential to read the other parts, but it helps you understand a few references 🧡
P.P.S. I did use a fluff prompt from someone’s list, but I don’t have the link :(
“Are you checking me out?” Poe whispers across the board room table. You’ve been staring at him for what feels like eons, much like the duration of this meeting. You blink hard, eyes now focused on his full blown smirk, and frown.
“No. You’re obscuring my view.” You whisper harshley. Poe’s smirk turns into a frown as he spins his chair toward the presentation happening behind him.
Oh. He sighs. Maybe she did just mean lunch as a friend. His frown deepens, deciding he should probably pay attention.
“Hey you have one of those notepad things?” Rey huffs as she takes a seat beside you.
“The meeting started thirty minutes ago.” You point out.
“Jedi training.” She gives you a duh look. “ Notepad?” She makes a grabby motion with her hands.
“Just this one.” You quickly tear off your doodle page and hand it to her, along with a pen. “Since when do you write on paper?” You raise your brows as she starts scribbling.
“Leia said it would be good to write down what I see when I meditate. Might help me understand the force a bit better. Said it worked for one of Luke’s students.”
You nod. It did help you with your meditation, helped you think further on what the force was bringing to you.
Rey writes as much as she can until her hand cramps; which leads her to doodling. She liked drawing people, faces. It was something that her memory blocked about her parents for so long that she started drawing to engrain as many faces as she could into her brain.
She had seen over the course of many meetings that you always drew in the corners and the margins, a habit she happily adopted. But today there was a hidden surprise. As she shaded the small forest she had started, words began to appear. She quickly scribbled over the whole corner to reveal two words in your messy script:
Mrs. Dameron
Her eyes dart to the back of Poe’s head, and then to the side of your face. Finn’s not going to believe this. She smiles to herself.
When the meeting finally ends Rey quickly skips to your office and waits for you.
“You sprinted out of that meeting just to meet me here?” You laugh, punching your code in.
“Though I’d return your notepad before it became mine forever.” She laughs tossing it on your desk.
“How thoughtful.” You roll your eyes, taking a seat at your desk.
“Left my forest doodle at the top, figured you’d enjoy it.” She smiles extra wide.
“You ok?” You raise your brows at her. Your smile is freakin me out…
“Mmhmm.” She nods, putting her chin in her hands as she leans on the desk. You give her another look before grabbing the notepad and putting it back inside your clipboard. And then you see it. Mrs. Dameron rubbed over with the pen. Fuck me.
“Didn’t realize you had a thing for pilots…”
You bite down on your tongue. You know you can’t deny it, that’ll just make her run off and tell Poe… or worse Finn.
“Please don’t tell anyone.” You plead. “Especially Finn.” You point at her. She holds her hands up in surrender but the smile on her face says nothing but trouble.
_______
“Rey said this is for you.” The receptionist smiles as you collect the day's mail. You mumble a thanks as you scan over the data from the last week. You rip open the envelope to reveal a second envelope; but the second one says
For Mrs. (Y/N) Dameron
You slap the envelope to your chest and scurry into your office, sliding the door shut.
“If she doesn’t kill me, I’ll kill her.” You chuckle to yourself. You open the envelope and inside is a a doodle of you and Poe hugging BB8.
Aww. Damn you Rey for making something so cute. You slide it into one of the frames you have your desk that faces you, and smile.
_______
You stretch your neck as you walk to your locker, stiff from the latest patrol. Eager to get your flight suit off you fling your locker open.
“Shit!” You jump. There’s a drawing of Poe hanging from the locker shelf.
“Hey, how was your patrol?” Finn asks. You quickly rip the drawing down, grabbing a book and shoving it in the cover.
“Fine! Fine.” You nervously shrug, flashing him a smile.
“You ok?” He cocks an eyebrow.
“Ya, totally…” you giggle. Too much, calm down.
“Ok… you wanna hang tonight? Poe and Rey have the night off too.” He hikes his thumb over his shoulder. You’re being really weird and jumpy… kinda like Poe when Finn discovered him putting plants in your office.
“Ya, ya. Uh, that’s good. I actually have to talk to Rey about something anyways.” You smile, closing your locker and backing away. “I’ll see you tonight!” You awkwardly stick your hand in the air and take off running.
______
You don’t stop until you're safely back inside your room. You slip the drawing out of the book and look at it. It’s a beautiful portrait of him; extremely detailed and life-like. So much so you could have sworn you’d seen it somewhere before.
The sound of something scraping along the floor pulls your eyes away and you see another envelope addressed to Mrs. Dameron. You open the door but she’s already gone. You quickly open the envelope to reveal another drawing, but this one is much more risqué.
“I’m going to kill you.” You tell the empty room before throwing both drawings on your bed and hitting the shower.
_______
“I love this couch.” You mumble as you lay across the whole thing. You hear a little excited wooooaaw as BB8 comes barreling toward you.
“Hey BB, whatchya got?” You smile as his little arm holds out a piece of paper. The front says Mrs. Dameron and you quickly rip it from BB8’s grasp. He gives a surprised beep, backing up a little.
“Sorry bud, didn’t mean to scare you.” You pat his belly as you open the paper.
“She scarin you buddy?” Poe coos at him, sitting next to your feet.
“I didn’t mean too!” You playfully cry out. This time instead of a drawing there’s a picture of you and Poe. You’re not sure who took it or when but you and Poe are both full blown cheesin at the camera.
“Does that say Dameron on it?” Finn leans over the back of the couch, tilting his head to try and see the paper better.
“What?! No!” You instantly tuck the paper under your arm.
“What was it?” Poe taps your feet, and you raise them so he can scoot over to let Finn sit next to him.
“Just something from Rey.” You wave them off.
“What about me?” She smirks, handing Finn the bucket of snacks and standing in front of your face.
“I got your note.” You glare at her, sitting up.
“Did you like it?” She asks. The boys start talking about what movie to watch so you turn your back to them.
“How did you get so much detail?” You ask under your breath.
“Mm. First one was off one of the pictures you took when you had the three of us model for you.” She smiles, sticking a gummy blurg in her mouth.
“And the one you slid under the door?” The smile on her face gets wider, and you can tell she’s trying to hold in a laugh.
“That was mainly Kaydel. We took some liberties.” She giggles.
“I’m going to kill you both.” You shake your head, turning to the boys.
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While we’re on the subject on inclusivity:
Inclusivity in your mood boards is just as important as inclusivity in the fic itself. Please try to include poc and curvy images in your mood boards as well! Please!
Your moodboard is the introduction to your story and sets the mood and the vibe. When you only have skinny white girls in your moodboards, you’re communicating a message that’s all who you thought of while writing and that’s the only type who is attractive and desirable to the characters. Poc deserve to feel seen too and feel like they were thought of while writing. Especially so when you’re writing for characters of color!
You don’t even have to use *only* poc or curvy pictures for your mood boards. Including different skin tones to show that you made the effort is much appreciated. You could also use shadow images or fully blacked out silhouettes to hide the skin tone altogether. There are plenty of resources and images out there that you should be able to find more than just skinny white girls. I know is it takes a little extra digging but it’s very much worth it to show inclusivity!
I know Pinterest is the bane of image finding, but it can be a good resource to find poc images. Just search (whatever aesthetic you’re looking for) + dark skin or person of color or something similar and you’ll find plenty of images. And the more you save the more images will show up in your feed. I constantly collect images to have references later when I need them.
Unsplash is another good resource to find poc models and images. And there’s also models of color pages right here on tumblr! There are resources out there it just takes a little effort to find the right images!
And as an ending note: using only skinny white girls in your mood board and then putting a disclaimer like “images do not represent reader they’re just fitting the aesthetic” isn’t the work around you think it is. I understand it’s not done in purpose and you most likely don’t realize it, but saying that says poc don’t fit your aesthetic and it’s still alienating and hurtful. Just something to keep in mind.
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nowritingonthewall · 3 months
Note
Hi! Can I ask for some random and domestic Poe HC? 🤧
Hello Nonnie, thank you so much for your request! I am sorry that my hcs always appear to escalate into mini-essays, I hope that you enjoy them anyway 🥰
!Content warning for allusions to past trauma (because it’s Poe) but it’s mostly fluffy!
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Domestic headcanons with Poe (x gn!reader)
- If you were honest, you would never have expected Poe to actually settle down after the Battle of Exegol and the fall of the First Order. After all, he had been on the run since he had been 16 years old, his family a bunch of rebels, his home scattered across the stars. You had fully expected him to make his new job as a flying instructor his whole new life, filling every second with something exciting to do, always chasing the next thrill, never slowing down and let himself think for even a minute.
Instead, after helping the New Republic to get back on its feet, he had put most of his energy and devotion into making a home with you.
Even though he loves his job teaching students (and spending a lot of time in his x-wing while doing so), he always makes sure to finish on time so that he can spend as much of the remainder of the day with you as possible. It has become one of your daily little rituals for you to wait for him, sitting on your porch, two mugs of freshly brewed caf in your hands. It never stops warming your heart to see that gorgeous crinkly-eyed smile lighting up his face as soon as he sees you waiting for him. Giving you an adorable little wave, he always quickens his pace before pulling you into a long and heartfelt hug.
Watching the suns painting the sky with the most beautiful colours imaginable, you’ll sit snuggled up against each other, listening to each other's daily adventures.
It usually doesn’t take long before Poe’s head grows heavy against your shoulders. The first few times he tried to fight it and wouldn’t stop apologizing, no matter how often you tried to assure him that you didn’t mind at all. But soon these late afternoon or early evening naps become just another part of your daily routine.
Poe spent more than half his life making sure that everyone around him felt safe. Now, with the war becoming a more and more distant memory each day, it’s like his mind finally allows his body to catch up on all the rest that he has been denied during all those years – finally feeling safe in your arms.
And there really aren’t a lot of things that you enjoy more than holding your sleepy boy with his head resting in your lap, one hand intertwined with his, as the other one plays with his hair. You smile at every patch of grey that you find among his inky curls, more than grateful to be given the precious gift of being allowed to watch him grow old with you. It makes the warmest and fuzziest feelings bloom inside your heart to see his worry lines relax under the soft touch of your hand as you listen to his content mumbling and cutest little sighs.
- He still can’t sleep without you around, though. Whenever he is in dire need of a nap, and the weather has gone too cold to sit outside, even under a heap of cuddly blankets, he’ll sit down on the couch, look at you with the most irresistible baby ewok eyes and his softest smile and tap on his chest to ask for his favourite human blanket.
Sometimes he falls asleep within seconds as soon as you snuggle up to him. Sometimes he finds that it wasn’t sleep that he craved after all but simply the comforting presence of you right next to him, listening to the soothing rhythm of your breathing as you drift into peaceful slumber until his breath synchronizes with yours in perfect harmony. And sometimes your planned naps turn into Poe and you talking nonsense for hours, exchanging forehead kisses and nose rubs between giggles.
Poe used to think that the only way to escape the constantly reoccurring ringing in his ears was to drown it out with something even louder. Now he realizes that all he needs to find relief is the soft warmth of you lying on top of him, the shape of your bodies fitting together as perfectly as if they had been custom made for each other.
- And he allows himself to take his time with everything that he does. No more bone crushing hugs that aren’t allowed to last longer than a second and that he’d hoped would convey everything that he hadn’t time for to tell you in case he wouldn’t make it back from a mission. No more quick and chaste kisses to whatever body part they would land on before hurrying off into the next briefing or meeting.
Now he makes sure to pour all of his undying love for you into every single hug until you feel nothing but warm and safe and cared for. Every kiss of him shows you that you are the centre of his universe, from the very first kiss in the morning to the last kiss goodnight. They have become so much more tender and gentler, yet they never leave a single trace of doubt about his feelings for you.
Quick shared showers that used to be a practical necessity turn into long shared baths that last until the water turns cold. Sometimes when you aren’t ready to step out of your cocoon of warmth just yet, you wrap each other in fluffy towels and make yourself comfortable on the heating unit waiting until you’re dried off.
As you cuddle up to each other, enjoying the closeness, you find a new softness and gentleness to your relationship that you had never thought possible. You are no longer clinging to each other for dear life, always scared that you might lose each other the next minute, constantly feeling like loving on borrowed time.
And Poe takes his time rediscovering and getting to know you all over again. Gently scrubbing your back in the bath or giving you a long tension-relieving massage. Learning everything there is to know about how you take care of your hair, while committing every single detail about you to memory. Not because he fears that every time might be the very last chance to do so but because he decided to commit every single fibre of his heart and soul to loving you. Because he chooses you. Over and over again.
It takes a while for him to get comfortable letting you take care of him the same way that he takes care of you. Yet every time it is your turn to hold him in the bathtub, he finds it a little easier to relax against your chest, melting into your embrace a little deeper. With every soft kiss pressed to his temple, he manages to let go a little further. As he rests his cheek against yours, while your hands are slowly caressing over his arms, he has never felt more vulnerable and at the same time more safe and protected than during those moments.
That’s when the tears tend to flow.
Those are the days when you make sure to take extra good care of him. Letting him rest his head against your shoulder as you carefully pat his back with a towel, gently kissing his tears away before placing a soft kiss on every single one of his scars, putting pain relieving lotion on his arm and massaging his tense shoulder. Only a few months ago this kind of special treatment would have made him feel more than uncomfortable. Seeing his own needs through your loving eyes, he slowly begins to accept that it is okay to take them seriously. And as he curls up against your chest, he doesn’t only allow it but he knows that he can completely trust you to take care of him.
- Poe has always loved to dance. Nearly as much as he loves to cuddle with you. Sadly, the days of the Resistance hadn’t exactly given you a lot of opportunity to do so and reasons to break into celebratory dances had been all too rare. So now he takes any chance he gets to hug you from behind, snuggle up as close to you as possible, rest his head on your shoulder and his cheek against yours while swaying the both of you to some music coming from your holopad or to a secret rhythm that only the two of you seem to be able to feel.
You dance in the morning while waiting for the first few cups of caf to brew, while waiting for something yummy baking in the oven, when you’re trying to dust the shelves, or while doing the dishes.
Doing the dishes never becomes a boring task with Poe. If he doesn’t turn it into a dance, there are bound to be lather battles that more often than not turn into tickle fights. And they always end with him using the dish cloth to draw you in for a long and wobbly-knees-inducing kiss.
This is also where most of your more serious conversations take place. It’s always been easier for Poe to talk about difficult topics while his hands have something to do. So whenever you feel like there’s something on his mind that he has trouble talking about, you’ll ask him “dish discussion?”, to which he answers with a relieved smile.
And, of course, should the topic require some serious hugging action, you can always continue your discussion on the kitchen floor, which proves over and over again to be the best place to solve any problem imaginable. And in case one of you should be in need of an even more comforting atmosphere, your kitchen cabinet features an extra compartment containing all the components required to build a blanket fort. It’s a habit that goes back to the early days of you joining the Resistance. And afterwards your blanket fort of safety can easily be converted into a blanket fort of romantic dinners and cuddle sessions.
- The two of you share a little garden with Rey, who doesn’t live too far away from you (I am sorry, LEGO, I refuse to believe that the trio would ever split up!). At least it was a little garden in the beginning. It all started when Poe noticed how Rey’s eyes would start to sparkle whenever she came across anything lush and green. So he began to present her with a special plant from every place that he visited. Pretty soon even her house was too small to accommodate her (not so) little personal jungle, so you helped her turning her backyard into a little garden. Which just kept on expanding. Because it never stopped warming Poe’s heart to see the way Rey’s face shining brighter than the suns whenever he found a new exotic plant for her.
He helped her create her special place of happiness both in her mind and in the physical world and you two are the only ones apart from Finn she trusts to take care of it. Even if your and Poe’s gardening sessions sometimes turn into several rounds of mud wrestling or splashy water fights.
Poe’s first very own gardening project featured the planting of a row of koyo trees. They weren’t even supposed to be able to grow in this climate but Poe Dameron has never been one to let logic or reason stand in the way of matters close to his heart. After all, he had managed to nurse a force tree back to health without any jedi tricks. And maybe Rey’s and Finn’s way with the force helped a little, too. Though he will always tell everyone willing (or maybe not too willing) to listen that it was your loving care that made the trees grow and flourish and bloom in the end.
His proud little face when he was able to harvest the very first fruit is another one of your many precious and treasured memories. Of course he let you have the first bite, almost a little nervous about your reaction.
The original plan was to turn the fruits into juice and jelly and lots of cakes. Which was a good plan. And it probably would have worked if the koyo fruits hadn’t been so damn tasty that you ate most of them before they ever had a chance to land in a basket. And what better way to spend the last days of summer than sitting lazily in the cool shadow of a koyo tree, taking turns to lie in each others lap while feeding each other freshly picked koyo fruits?
- During the nights when neither of you is able to sleep, you’ll climb onto the roof of your house, which offers a snug little platform that provides the perfect secluded retreat to lie on your back and gaze at all the stars in the galaxy. A galaxy that’s finally at peace.
Poe’s gaze keeps wandering back to you, though, and every time it does, he can’t stop smiling. As soon as you notice, you’ll snuggle a little closer to cradle his head and place the softest little kiss on his forehead, making him smile even wider. Softly stroking your cheek, he returns the kiss. On your nose, on your temple, across your jaw line, all over both of your cheeks, and everywhere he can reach.
You finally dare to make plans for the future again. Talking about all the stars and systems and planets you would like to explore together. Without rush, without being constantly on your guard, actually being able to look forward to visiting them.
The important thing is that Poe is no longer driven by the uncontrollable need to chase every single one of them. Because he has his own little galaxy lying right here by his side.
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Slow it Down
AN: Happy Wanksgiving, y'all (and Happy Thanksgiving to those that celebrate)! This is my contribution. I meant to write something else but the muse wants what it wants and she wanted Poe so, hope y'all enjoy. 😘
(Un-beta’d - i wrote this in like 2 hours and barely proofread it so lol, apologies for any mistakes)
You’ve never seen him like this before, so rushed, so…frantic. Normally, he takes his time, draws everything out, especially when he’s been away, but it’s different this time. He’s different.
Rated: M+ (this is smut so, i mean, you’ve been warned?) Words: 1,312 Pairing: Poe Dameron x F!Reader Warnings: established relationship, desperate!angsty!Poe, p in v, oral sex, a little roughness, choking (barely), creampie, a little cockwarming (please let me know if i missed anything). AO3
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You fall into the room, a tangle of limbs, tongues, and teeth, moans muffled by Poe’s tongue in your mouth. Poe pushes you against the durasteel door when it slides closed, pressing his body along the length of you, hands pulling at your uniform. You gasp when he tweaks your nipple through the rough fabric of your shirt, breaking the kiss. He doesn’t stop though, mouthing down your neck, nipping at your jaw, hot tongue dipping into the notch at the base of your throat. You’re completely at his mercy, simply clinging to him, fingers tangling in his soft, dark curls. 
He pulls back slightly, fingers fumbling with the buttons on your shirt. He quickly pushes the offending material from your shoulders, mouth latching onto your breast as his hands drop to the waistband of your pants. He has you laid out on the bed before you even realize he’s moving, fingers pulling down your underwear just as quickly. 
“Poe,” you pant, trying to get his attention as he tosses your panties over his shoulder, his eyes roving over your prone form.
Instead of answering, he licks his lips and dives into your center, drawing a surprised gasp from you as he laps messily at your folds. You hum when he circles your clit with the tip of his tongue, a shiver of pleasure racing through your body.
You’ve never seen him like this before, so rushed, so…frantic. Normally, he takes his time, draws everything out, especially when he’s been away, but it’s different this time. He’s different.
Poe sinks lower, spearing his tongue into your fluttering hole, his nose pressing deliciously against your clit. You moan as he pushes in as deep as he can manage, his tongue sliding along your sensitive walls before slipping back out to tease your entrance. His hands grip you like a vice, fingers digging into the flesh of your ass as he drinks from you like you’re an oasis in the middle of the desert.
You know something is wrong, but he just feels so good, and he clearly needs this, so you don’t question it, instead letting him have his way with you. It doesn’t take him long to send you over the edge, a scream lodging in your throat as he groans into you, greedily lapping at the release that spills from your pussy.
He pulls away quickly, wasting no time as you come down, your chest heaving, heart beating wildly beneath your breast.
He settles over you again, the slide of his bare skin against yours heavenly. Your brain is still fuzzy with pleasure as he positions himself at your entrance, but you're coherent enough to notice that he isn’t talking, isn’t making eye contact. Usually you can’t get him to shut up, whether it’s about how good you feel or how much he missed you, begging you to look at him as he fucks into you.
“Poe,” you say, reaching for him, hands skimming his strong shoulders, the muscles flexing beneath your touch.
He still won’t look at you, his brow pinched in what you thought was concentration but now realize is something else. He grunt as he begins to push into you, your mouth falling open in a gasp as the length of him drags over one of your sweet spots. He pauses when he’s fully seated, his jaw clenched and you realize…he’s shaking. 
What had he seen out there to make him act this way?
Concern breaks through the haze of lust as you slip your hands up his shoulders and neck, his movements stilling when you take his face in your hands. He pants, wild eyes glued to your neck as you patiently wait for him to gather his thoughts. When he does, you see his desire, yes, but also something unexpected: fear. Pain lances through your chest, eyes welling with tears as you stroke his cheeks with your thumbs. 
It takes him a moment to give in, his eyelids fluttering as he practically melts into your touch. You pull him close, wrapping him in your arms and he happily buries his face in your shoulder, eyes still closed as he inhales your comforting scent. His forearms are braced on either side of your head as you hold him, fingers carding soothingly through his hair.
“Slow down, baby,” you tell him softly, nuzzling your nose against his ear. “You’re safe here, you’re home.”
His hands fist into the sheets at your words, arms pushing in closer to you, as if he’s trying to hug you back. You hold him as long as he needs you to, whispering comforting words, his cock still nestled inside you. When he’s ready, he pulls back to meet your eyes, the look in them guilty, pleading.
“I’m sorry,” he rasps, swallowing thickly as your thumb brushes his cheek once more. “This mission, it…it was rough.”
“I figured as much,” you say softly, nodding in understanding. “Do you wanna talk about it?”
He shakes his head, sighing as his eyes rove your face. “Not yet.”
You smile, nodding again and pulling him into a gentle kiss. “Later then.”
His lips quirk slightly and he nods, leaning in to kiss you again. He still seems slightly desperate, but no longer frantic, kissing you deeply and slowly, his lips and tongue sliding languidly over yours. 
When he starts to move again, it’s unhurried, his hips grinding into yours, his hand reaching down to pull one of your legs around his waist, pushing him even deeper inside until the tip of him bumps your cervix. Your cunt squeezes him and he breaks the kiss with a groan, his eyes glassy as he watches you writhe beneath him.
“So beautiful,” he slurs, sliding his hand up to cup your cheek. 
You moan in response, skin heating a little, both from pleasure and from his words. He moves his thumb over your bottom lip, wordlessly asking you to part them. You do, sucking the digit inside, your tongue lapping at his fingertip. Poe’s movements stutter slightly, his throat bobbing as he watches you, damp curls falling across his forehead.
His pace increases a little and you know he’s close, his body shuddering over you. You reach for him as he pulls his thumb from your mouth, hand coming to rest against the base of your throat as he pushes into you again and again.
“I love you so much, sweetheart,” he pants, breath hitching as you clench around him. “You know that, right?”
You’re so close, so full—of him, of your love for him. You feel like you’re going to burst from it all.
“I know,” you breathe, smiling softly at him. “I love you too, flyboy.”
He leans in to press his forehead to yours, his labored breaths fanning against your lips as he thrusts, the pleasure rising higher and higher.
The hand on your neck clenches slightly and you whine, pussy fluttering around his length as you fall over the edge, pleasure surging through your veins. Poe groans, the sound of it broken, as he follows you a moment later, spilling his warmth deep inside. You’re still pulsing around him as he comes down and he can’t seem to stop the press of his hips, his softening cock pushing his spend even further into you.
He’s still inside when you come down, his gaze intent on your face as he cradles your head in his hands. When you lock eyes, he smiles, thumbs rubbing soothing circles at the base of your skull. You smile back, content to be in his embrace again, to have him be with you, be present. There’s still something there in his eyes, that fear, and you hope he’ll talk to you about it once he’s ready. Until then, you’ll settle for keeping him grounded and in the moment.
If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖
🌟 Masterlist 🌟
i am no longer doing a taglist. please follow @charmingupdates for updates and turn on notifications.
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angel-of-the-moons · 7 months
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Arch's Masterlists
Requests are Closed until I am able to catch up with the lingering ones I want to write for in my inbox, and work on a few personal projects! I'll let you guys know when they're open again! :D
Click on each Masterlist for the lists of characters I write for!
All characters are aged-up or of age in my NSFW fics I will not nor will I ever write for an underage character
Note: Some of my fics contain content that is not suitable for those under 18. If you are under 18 and willingly read those fics, I have warned you and I am not responsible for content you willingly consume should you continue past the warnings. Enjoy!
Marvel Masterlist
Mortal Kombat 1 Masterlist
Mortal Kombat 11 Masterlist
Star Wars Masterlist
CoD: Modern Warfare
Miscellaneous Characters
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dameronology · 11 months
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hi, can i please request hcs of post-war poe? you know, poe and reader are finally together in peacetime instead of being constantly at war, and they're finally building a life together. maybe an actual house, eventual children? domestic fluff basically
first of all: yes i am obsessed with this and secondly: sorry this has taken me 95 years to write
quite honestly, there were times during the war when poe wasn't even sure he would come out the other side of it. if the job didn't kill him, something else (probably the first order tbh) would. daring to dream was scary. daring to have hope felt borderline idiotic, like he was setting himself up for failure.
you were the thing that got him through it all: through the long missions, the rough nights, the battles that left scars both on his skin and in his mind. even on the darkest days, you were the tiny spark that kept him going.
the day the resistance won felt like a dream. seeing you across the crowd when he got back to ajaan kloss was like...an out of body moment. you were okay. he was okay. things were gonna be okay.
after taking a few days to just be, you and poe got your asses into gear. he was appointed general of the new galactic republic's navy and you assumed a similarly high position within the government.
at first, you found yourselves a little apartment in a high rise on coruscant. it wasn't much, but after years of sharing cramped rooms and tents and even just a bed on the falcon at one point, having a place of your own was everything.
it's quickly filled with physical marks of your relationships; pictures of the two of you, notes on the fridge, flowers on the kitchen counter that poe would buy you, which would stay for weeks and weeks til they withered away and he'd replace them.
those lazy days you'd spend there together, just you and him and no-one else, allowed to just exist for the first time in fucking years felt surreal
it was everything; slow mornings and late nights and rainy afternoons spent watching water fall down on the bright city lights ahead of you
it worked for a while and even then some after your first kid appeared in the world. a son, six pounds and three ounces of pure dameron with mighty lungs and the same dark hair as his dad. but he grew, and he began to walk, and suddenly the four walls that you'd once looked at and thought how the hell are we gonna fill this place? was suddenly too small
so, you moved. this time, further out from the business of the city and back to yavin 4 where everything had started for poe. home was wherever you were but being close to kes was even better. anywhere connected to shara was wonderful too.
you found a house ten minutes from where poe had grown up; it had a garden and four bedrooms (you'd said "home office" and poe had said "so at least four more, then?") and a kitchen big enough to house an army
the furniture you owned barely filled the living room but with poe's paternity leave giving him too much free time and the gift of online shopping, this problem was quickly solved
within a year, it's your home and you know that it's your forever one
within two years, there was another kid present; this time, a daughter. poe loved both his kids beyond any worldly measure but even more so every time time he saw little bits of you in them.
eventually, you and poe save up enough to take a few years out of work; obviously, it's something you'd have to return to but just for a little while, there's nothing to focus on but each other and your family
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ashxllbey · 1 year
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Poe Dameron x Fem!reader - Mortal Peril (Starman One Shot)
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Word count: 1.3k Warnings: fluff, one or two 'idiots', otherwise none. A/N: Hello there. First of all, thank you for the love on the last chapter. Unfortunately, this is not a new update, as I'm still working on it. But! This is a 50 subs celebratory one-shot, taking place before last chapter, as a thank you for your support. Regarding updates - while I appreciate your enthusiasm regarding this fic, I'm extremely busy and I don't have a lot of free time. Those of you who follow me on AO3 might know that I'm a resident. I'm currently in my ICU rotation and I can't sit down and focus on a 10k chapter, though I would like to. So, please, be patient, and don't 'please update' me. Polite messages are always okay, though! That being said: I'm totally open to writing OS for our two favorite idiots (since it doesn't require nearly as much energy). If there's anything in particular you'd like to see, feel free to message me! I'll keep working on the next update in the meantime. Stay safe, I appreciate y'all!
Taglist for Starman (omg mom look at me, I have a taglist now! Message me to be added/removed):
@a-rose-of-amber​
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littleenglishfangirl · 5 months
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Welcome to Fandom Hell
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I'm the LittleEnglishFangirl, (23/f), the artist formally known as LittleMissCaptainFandom (est. 2014) ~ and I have never been able to only settle on just one fandom.
My current obsession: Astarion / Baldur's Gate 3 || Blog Rules
My inbox is tenuously open. Please send me ideas for fics or blurbs, or pop in just to chat about any of the charaters listed below -- just know I am not always the best at replying in a timely manner.
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the masterlist
♡ = fluff | ❥ = angst | ✮ = smut(18+)
Everything is an 'x reader' fic - mostly f!reader.
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Baldur's Gate 3
Astarion I am not who I was ❥♡ Astarion with Druid!cat!Tav - blurb♡ Cont.♡ Hunting together♡ - Jealous cat-starion♡ Goodnight, My Love♡
Gale Dekarios
Soft Mornings - drabble ♡ "You look truely splendid tonight" - drabble ♡
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Top Gun
Bradley 'Rooster' Bradshaw
That Night at The Bar ♡ Cinnamon Rolls & Christmas Lights ♡🎄
Jake 'Hangman' Seresin
A Good Ol' Catch Up ♡ Never Leave You Hurtin' Again ♡❥ Falling for You ♡ Unexpected ♡❥ Something Good ♡ Choices ♡❥ Learn to trust again [1] [2] ♡❥
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Starwars
Anakin Skywalker I know - Vader!Anakin [1] [2] [3] ♡❥ Alive [1] [2]♡ [3]✮
Obi-Wan Kenobi nothing yet..
Poe Dameron Music ♡
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House of the Dragon
Aemond Targaryen Sex with my Ex ✮ You call me Devil ✮
Jacaerys Velaryon Nohing yet..
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The Hobbit
Kili Durin Conquer ✮ Ruins of Age ♡❥
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I also have some super old Marvel, Harry Potter/Mauruders, GoT, and Peaky Blinders content on my blog that dates back as far as 2015 - so I cannot vouch for its quality. I will not be continuing with these fandoms, so I chose not to list them here, but they are searchable on my blog.
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