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#Poe Dameron x fem!reader
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Poe Dameron X F!Reader • Rating: 18+ pals Masterlist• ao3• want to be tagged? | request info
Summary: You let Poe share your bed when he's too drunk to go back to his own room. He, however, can't seem to stop himself from taking up all the space humanly possible.
A/N: A little something for @campingwiththecharmings, I hope you're feeling better 💚
Warnings: sharing a bed, Feelings TM, fingering, oral (f receiving), sleepy sex, p in v sex, typos, overuse of italics, please let me know if I've missed a warning.
Word Count: 1980
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You shift in your small bed, trying to find a position that is vaguely comfortable. Though it seems more likely that the First Order will just give up and surrender tomorrow, with the way Poe is taking up all the space possible. 
You shove him a little and grumble, too tired to be polite about it. It wasn’t even his bed anyway, or his room. And it was his own fault for getting so drunk on cheap Rorian rum. 
One of the most exciting things about The Resistance using this moon as a new base was the preexisting structures that included personal rooms. Even though they were small, and you didn’t really mind sharing with others, it was nice to have your own space. Was nice. 
Emphasis on the was. 
Poe had basically collapsed in your room, far too out of it to make it back to his own after the celebration night at the cantina. You had kindly given up half of your tiny bed, the act of altruism aided by your soft spot for the pilot. (More than a soft spot if you were being honest.) 
But that was hours ago, when you were more awake and the unspoken deal had been for half of your space. Not the current 95% Poe was laying all over. 
You shove him again, wriggling quickly to take up the free area you managed to push him out of so you could lay comfortably. 
Poe let’s out a soft moan of confusion, but doesn’t open his eyes. 
You settle, satisfied with your well earned extra room. But it’s less than a minute before he’s shifting closer again, trying to encroach on your side. 
That’s it. 
“Poe.” You say harshly, pushing back on him. 
You expect him to wake up groggily, or at least turn over onto his other side facing away from you. 
Instead he mumbles something intelligible and flops his arm over your stomach and snuggles close. He presses his face to your neck, his soft breath hitting your skin. 
Heat rises to your face. This definitely wasn’t what you’d intended. 
“Poe.” You whisper, your previous annoyance burned up with embarrassment. You try to push on his arm, move it back over. But your movements only cause him to grumble and hold you tighter, curling his body into yours. 
You breathe in deeply. At least you had some space, right?
Eventually you drift off to sleep again. And even though you didn’t want to admit it, there was something comforting about Poe’s warmth and tight hug. 
But of course his close proximity made you dream of him. 
It was hazy, and not quite tangible. Part of you was vaguely aware that you were dreaming, the edges were too soft, too liquid and not quite in focus.
Except it felt real. 
There was an ache between your legs that was being teased by a constant pressure. You squirmed against it, trying to find some semblance of relief. 
A faint sigh pulled you further from sleep. A quiet muffled whisper of your name murmured into your neck sent a sharp thrill of sensation down your spine.
“Poe?” Your voice was heavy, saturated with sleep as you shifted slightly, moving and- oh.
He moans softly against your skin as your hip brushes against his hard cock, his fingers digging into your ribs as he holds you close, silently begging you to repeat the motion. 
“‘m sorry,” he mumbled, obviously just fully waking himself. “I didn’t, I didn’t mean to,” this time he shifts slightly, raising his legs and you gasp, unable to stop the sound from spilling out of your mouth. His thigh rubs against your centre, pressing your soaked through pyjama bottoms against you.
You grip hold of his shoulder, your other hand fisting the curls at the nape of his neck as you pull him against you, needing him closer. 
His breath hitches. “Is that good?” He murmured, pressing his thigh against you again and rocking it back and forward slightly.
You bite your lip and nod desperately, your eyes screwed shut. 
He watches you, enraptured for a second, before he slowly leans back to your neck and places a light kiss against your skin. 
You whine at the caress, rubbing your aching clit back and forth against the strong muscle of his thigh. 
Poe briefly mistakes the small sound as distress, all his senses on high alert. “I can stop, I’m sorry, I don’t-”
“Please don’t stop,” you beg, your voice breaking, sounding needy and pathetic and so, so wrecked. “Feels good, please, Poe, please, I-” you moan loudly, giving up any pretence of trying to hide your feelings as he latches back onto your neck, sucking hard, and grabs hold of your hips, fucking you against his leg. 
“Poe,” you whine, dragging out his name. Not sure for a moment if this is real or if you’re still dreaming. 
“Fuck baby, yes,” he growls, biting at your skin before licking a stripe up your neck. “Keep moaning my name like that, keep doing it.” 
He kissed you sloppily, biting at your bottom lip and slipping his tongue into your mouth, as he moved. Before climbing on top of you and hooking his hands under your knees so that he could move your legs apart and settle between him. 
He moaned as he pressed his cock against your clothed heat, echoing your cry of pleasure. 
“Poe,” you whimpered between kisses, so desperate for every touch and caress. 
“Wanted you for so long,” he kissed you hard, trailing his lips down your jaw and neck while he ran his hands over your breasts and waist. “Always imagined what you’d sound like, feel like, taste like.”
He kisses down your chest, biting softly at your breast through the material of your top and moaning when you gasp and buck up against him. 
“Always want you to make that noise,” he groans as he keeps trailing his lips downwards, dragging his fingertips lower until he can slip them under the waistband of your trousers. 
You yelp in surprise as he pulls them off in one fluid motion, partially lifting you off the mattress in the process. The cool night air hits your feverish skin, but you barely have a moment to shiver before he’s pulling your legs back open. His fingers digging into your thighs and leaving bruises in his hast, not that you care. 
When his tongue touches your clit it feels like heaven. You gasp and moan loudly, crying out his name as he sucks. His own groan of pleasure vibrating through you.
He presses his left forearm against the inside of your thigh, spreading his hand out across your stomach and pinning you down as he devours you. 
Instinctively you grind up against him as your claw at the bedsheets. He sucks at your nub, alternating between kitten licks and rolling circles, driving you completely mad as he purposefully ignores your aching centre.  Poe growls low in his throat happily as you moan and writhe under him. 
“Poe, please!” You never imagined it would be like this, never dared to hope that he would want to touch you like this, and now he had pushed all rational thinking completely out of your mind, filled you utterly to the brim with only thoughts of him. 
He moans again, bucking against the mattress to give himself some slight relief. “You’re so wet,” he runs his nose through your folds, following it with broad licks of his tongue. He teases your entrance, just slipping inside for a smallest moment, and chuckling when you whine and try to thrust up against him. 
“How long have you been this wet, hmm?” He nips at your thigh, bringing his right hand up to trace the outline of your pussy while he keeps you pressed against the bed with his left.
“You been walking around the base just desperate for me? Just needing me to take care of you?” 
“Yes,” you sobbed, your skin burning with embarrassment as you admitted it. 
“Oh, fuck,” he whimpers, the dark seductive tone faltering at your confession. He buried his face into your thigh, sucking a love bite into your skin. 
Poe presses two fingers into you easily, slowly sliding them in and out and moaning as he feels your walls contract around him. 
Your back arches, toes curling as he gently readjusts the angle, searching for the spot to make you see stars. 
“Poe,” you breathe, so overcome with the sensation of his thick fingers. 
He reaches up with his left hand and grabs yours, squeezing tightly. “That’s it baby, that’s it, fuck,” he bites his lip, watching your face intently. 
The ache in his dick is maddening, all consuming, he’s so hard he’s sure he could cum just from watching you. 
“Always need you,” he mutters, unable to stop himself as he continues to fuck you deep with his fingers. “Always so desperate for you, just want you all the time, I-” He stops himself, stumbling over the words he wants to say, that every fibre of his being demands he says.
He can’t speak those words, can’t admit them when every day is just another chance for the universe to tear you apart. 
“Poe,” you grab hold of him, pulling his lips to yours and kissing him deeply before you yank off your top and tug at his trousers. “I need you too.” 
He groans and kisses you back, almost completely swallowing your words. But thankfully he gets the message and helps you to tug down his trousers to his knees before he leans forward and thrusts into you. 
You both cry out, moaning loud enough to wake the whole base, still just for a moment to truly feel each other before Poe starts to move. 
He rocks his hips against you, thrusting in and out with long lazy strokes as he bites his lip hard enough to bleed. His features pinched together in deep concentration as he tries so hard not to cum. 
“I’m not gonna… I’m not gonna last long,” he moans as you clench around him, at how tightly you grip him and how your muscles tense as you arch up to meet his every movement. 
“Me neither.” You pant, every nerve feels like it’s on fire, ignited by every touch. 
He presses his forefinger against your clit, rubbing soft circles around the nerve and gasping when you twitch and clamp down on him. 
“Poe,” you barely get the word out, pleasure twisting in your stomach and chest and drowning your lungs. 
The slow rock is driving you insane, a gentle push and pull, give and take. It would be so much easier, so much simpler if it was hard and fast and meaningless and wasn’t… wasn’t…
“Baby,” he gasps, so close and needing more, needing you to overwhelm him, to-
You cry out as you cum, throwing your head back and squeezing him hard. He sobs as he follows, thrusting once more and stays deep as he cums inside. 
The sound of both of your breathing fills the room as your heartbeats return to normal.
There’s the smallest fraction of a second where insecurity raises its ugly head, starts to whisper in your ear. 
But it’s almost as if Poe can hear it too. He pushes himself up to look into your eyes before kissing you softly and holding you tight. 
You chuckle as he nuzzles your cheek. 
“I’ve still got my shirt on.” He mutters and you laugh. 
He grins and snuggles into your neck for a moment before he fumbles with the blanket, mostly managing to pull it over you both. “I’ll clean us up in a second, I just wanna…” He yawns and you smile. 
“Me too.” You kiss his cheek and hug him close. He sighs happily and holds you tight.
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groguspicklejar · 10 months
Text
Rookie Mistake [Poe Dameron]
Summary: You know he isn't one for anything more than a hookup. But you may have misjudged how deeply he feels.
Pairing: Poe Dameron x f!reader
Warnings: the essence of hookup culture, reader being snarky, sad!Poe, little bit of angst.
A/N: I never realized how difficult it was for me to write something so simple. This one's for @sofasoap So sorry it took so long. My fourth commission, yay!!!🥳 Hope you enjoy it❤️
[Part 2]
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“What will it take for you to go on a date with me?”
He’s been asking –practically begging– for a chance to go out with you for weeks. You never took him seriously, fully knowing that he’ll get back to sleeping around again pretty soon. It’s a lot easier to keep things professional, rather than be another notch in his belt.
You twist the pasta through your fork and raise it to your lips, muttering, “A damn miracle.”
Finn chokes on his caf and had to wipe off any drops from his mouth. Rey has an equally hard time holding back her laughter as they both listen to the conversation a few seats down.
Poe, as expected, is pouting. You smile and slide one of your cupcakes his way. “Stop pouting. You look like a kicked puppy.”
“I feel like a kicked puppy.” He gratefully accepts your offering, peels open the wrapping and starts munching on it.
Normally, you’d be annoyed when someone keeps pestering you for romance. But Poe makes it hard to not be mad at him. He’s so endearing when he asks that you almost feel bad for turning him down.
Almost.
Until you remember that he has the attention span of a celery stick and you know for a fact that none of the people he’s slept with can say, with confidence, that they are Poe Dameron’s significant other.
You finish your food and bid them all goodbye. Thankfully, Poe doesn’t follow you. Most likely disheartened by your answer, however playful it was.
When you make it to your quarters, you try not to think about Poe Dameron’s playful smirk as he asked you to go on a date with him. You can’t deny that you’ve grown fond of him over the few months of working with him. He’s a great leader and a better friend.
But you don’t know if you want to see him as anything other than that. You know how he is when it comes to relationships. You don’t want to end up like one of the girls you’ve seen crying in the ‘fresher.
You’re better than that. You deserve better than that.
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You’re woken up by frantic knocking on your door. Whoever is on the other side better tell you that the world is ending otherwise you’re going to end their existence.
Except, just as you're gearing up to spew hatred at whoever disturbed your sleep, you’re lungs deflate when you’re greeted by the sight of Poe Dameron’s big brown, sad puppy eyes.
“What did I do wrong?” he asks.
You’re weakened by the misery in his voice. But you keep your composure.
“Waking me up from my nap.” you griped, fixing him with a scowl that made him flinch. “That’s a rookie mistake that’ll surely get you killed someday–”
“Not that.” he softly interjected, instantly cutting down your rage. “What am I doing wrong?”
Oh.
That.
You realize that up until this point, Poe has never had to deal with rejection. There aren’t many people who can say no to him for obvious reasons. And he has proudly taken advantage of that.
But you know his kind. They’re the kind that burn too bright, that leave an ache in the chest once they’re done consuming everything in their path. You don’t want that. You don’t think you can handle watching him leave with a part of yourself that you willingly gave him.
“You want a fling.” you say, calling him out. “I’m not built like that.”
“Fling– Hang on! That’s not–” he sputters lamely, eyes widening in horror as he takes a step back. He looks distraught, damn near offended by your words and their implication. “That’s not what this is. I would never ask that of you.”
But you don’t know if you can believe such a thing. You don’t know if you can believe anything else. Is that not what he wanted when he kept insisting for you to spend time with him? When he kept asking for a date?
Poe sighs deeply, running a hand through his thick curls. He looked dejected, ready to throw in the towel. It occurs to you that perhaps you might have hurt him more than you realized.
When his eyes meet yours, he says, “Sweetheart, I stopped sleeping around from the moment I met you.”
You’re not sure what to say. If there is any deception on his part, you can’t find it. Perhaps, you’ve judged him too harshly. Perhaps, you read his intentions the wrong way.
You confidently raise your chin. “One date.”
The hope in his eyes nearly floods your brain. You don’t want him getting an even bigger ego because of this. You only indulge because you’re sickened by his sadness.
 “If I hate you by the end of it, we never speak of this again. Is that clear?”
His bright smile nearly blinds you with its radiance. You don’t know if you can ever find it in your heart to hate him. Not when he resembles everything that is good in the universe, everything the First Order is trying to erase.
“Yes, ma’am.” he beams, grinning widely, nodding his head. “I’ll do whatever you want.”
“Another rookie mistake.” You slam the door in his face and wonder what the fuck you just did. If anyone made a rookie mistake, it’s you.
And that mistake was allowing Poe Dameron to get under your skin.
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im-poe-dameron · 2 years
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you're upset one night, and you don't know where to go, so you end up at your enemy's house, and as they open the door, you stay silent for a second, before saying (with tears in your eyes) ''i don't know where else to go.'' your enemy doesn't say anything. instead they pull you into their arms, giving you a shoulder to cry on.
- back at it again with another prompt! could i possibly get this one with my other favorite flyboy, poe dameron?
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IT'S ALWAYS BELONGED TO YOU
a/n: okay so this has been in my inbox for SO LONG, but i got a huge spark of inspiration and was in the mood to write for poe. so out came whatever this fic is of enemies to lovers meets heated arguments meets well...........the good stuff. i finished this tipsy and half asleep so i don't even know if it makes sense but enjoy my darling!! (yes the title is from will turner). unedited and not beta read so there is most likely mistakes.
summary: injured from a fight at the cantina you seek out someone unexpected.
pairing: poe dameron x fem!reader
word count: 5.5k+ (i guess?!)
warnings: explicit so minors BEGONE, cussing, so much angst, bacta shot (aka involving a needle), pain, arguing, mentions of death, fingering, cum eating, overstimulation (blink and you'll miss it), fluff.
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The frigid feeling of the night on your bare skin kept you from staying still and debating on whether or not this was a good idea. Somewhere in the brawl you forgot your jacket hanging on the back of your chair. The same jacket that once belonged to your father. You wanted to go back for it, but you’d been tossed out of the cantina for a reason and re-entering didn’t seem like a feasible option.
With reluctance filling every bone of your body, you made your way through the rain and back towards the camp you’d been tasked with protecting. You weren’t sure why you were put in the same group of people as the man who hated you so thoroughly is hurt at times–but there you were. A part of you wanted to fall into your slightly uncomfortable cot for the night; giving up without another thought.
Only you knew that if you showed up with a split lip and cuts on your knuckles, you’d be reprimanded to Corellia and back. Which left you with only one other option.
Sighing, you tightened your still bleeding hands into fists, trying to ignore the chills that spread rapidly down your spine.
His door looked more threatening than a whole horde of stormtroopers. It was a ridiculous notion to come to, but there you were–unable to simply knock and ask for help. You were hopeless when it came to admitting that you needed it in the first place. Asking someone–let alone the man who loathed your very being–made you realize that you’d rather face those stormtroopers. 
What were twenty men with blasters compared to this situation?
A cough wracked your body, sending a searing pain down your side as you practically shivered. It was then you realized the bastard from earlier has most likely snapped a rib or two.
How would you explain this? How could you come back from this?
Nothing was worse than asking someone you considered an enemy for help.
Fighting the urge to tuck your tail between your legs and run, you raised your arm–knocking assuredly on the door. There was absolutely no turning back now. Which is what you were afraid of.
The echo of rain hitting against metal rang in the clearing behind you–reminding you of what you’d have to walk through in order to get home. If he said no, laughed in your face and refused to help, you’d be horrified but you would go. After all, the both of you had treated one another with enough cruelty to make even Leia herself shocked. You weren’t even sure what caused this whole situation in the first place.
Why did you hate each other?
Why did you want to see him hurt and why did he want to do the same to you?
For months you could barely be in the same room together for more than five minutes before you were going at each other’s throats. Yet you were pretty sure if someone asked you what started it all–neither of you would have an answer. It just seemed to materialize out of thin air. The hatred seeping so far into your hearts, you couldn’t find a good enough reason to let go of it.
You vaguely heard him shuffling towards the door, a thump of him hitting something filtering through the metal.
There was still time. You could sprint the other way and forget this whole night ever happened. You’d patched yourself up numerous times before. Why did you need him to do it this time?
You were five seconds away from turning tail and running when the door slid open to reveal a shirtless and sleep deprived Poe Dameron. The slight shock on his face at seeing you was almost laughable. Except you then realized–you couldn’t laugh without doubling over in pain. The surprise quickly slipped from his face, being replaced by a sour look you would recognize anywhere.
“Hi,” you said softly, tucking your hands behind your back to hide the sight of your split open skin. That however didn’t stop his eyes from falling to your bleeding lip. “I know I have no right to ask this–”
“Who did that to you?”
The small tendrils of heat you’d been reaching for began to curl around your chest. Squeezing tightly until you had no choice but to acknowledge that they were there in the first place. Your rib still hurt like hell, yet hearing the slight worry in his voice counteracted that pain.
“Doesn’t matter,” you said quickly.
“That’s not what I asked,” he said–eyes hardening as they fell to the way you were leaning against the wall, placing more weight on your left side than your right.
You’d only ever seen him look this way during the heat of battle. When he was determined to come out victorious–the rage shining through the dark brown of his iris, nearly burning a hole through your chest. He was angry you were hurt. It was a surprise to come to that realization and yet it wasn’t an unwelcome one at that. Shifting your body, you tried to alleviate some of the pain that shot down to your leg–feeling like you might pass out from hypothermia the longer you stood there.
“Some guys in the cantina didn’t want to believe I was with the Resistance,” you huffed, shrugging your shoulders slightly. “They are worse off than I am. Trust me.”
“Where are they?”
A flutter tore through your heart. You’d never felt this way in his presence before. Some part of you knew that you were supposed to have these emotions when it came to Poe, but that was just it. The knowledge that this felt wrong–made it feel so right.
Maybe that’s where the hatred came from. The incessant understanding that this–whatever it was–should not happen. Poe was going to one day be a general and you would remain just the way you were. An engineer who knew their way around a blaster in the midst of battle, but nothing more. So, you shoved down the emotions you were feeling until they settled at the bottom of your stomach–turning your body bitter.
Poe Dameron, no matter how appealing he was to you in this moment, would only ever be the asshole who called you names like slip and rookie.
“Why come here?” he asked, still taking up space in his doorway–keeping you outside.
He wanted an answer and just like when you were asked why you hated him–you couldn’t come up with a good one. Why were you there? Why did you feel the need to come to him? For all you knew he would do a shitty job in patching you up, but that didn’t seem to matter. You knew the answer and you also knew…you didn’t want to say the answer.
“I–I didn’t know where else to go,” you replied, lying through your clenched teeth.
Waiting for him to laugh–tell you to go back to your, too small, cot was worse than the pain now spreading like a fire through your chest. Except he merely stepped to the side, giving you enough space to hobble inside–tears building up in your eyes at the small act of kindness. His hand landed on your arm, dragging it up until your knuckles were directly in his line of sight.
“It’s not that bad,” you blurted out, forcing yourself not to wince when he led you to the small stool placed near what you assumed to be a kitchen.
“Bullshit,” he muttered.
Just that one simple word brought a smile to your face, but you promptly wiped it away as he returned with a bacta kit and a wrap from your waist. You hadn’t even told him that you suspected your ribs were broken. He could simply tell by the way you were holding yourself. Once again that sickeningly sweet warmth shoved its way to the center of your chest, spreading up towards your neck.
He didn’t speak as he cleaned your knuckles. Simply kept his head ducked down–his curls falling against his forehead as he tried to pull out whatever glass might have been there. The alcohol in your veins was gone the second his hand touched yours. The feeling sobering you up quicker than you would have liked. Which meant you now had to sit and try not to stare at his still half bare form; or the way the muscles on his back tightened as he hunched over slightly to get a closer look.
“How many were there?” he asked, breaking the silence.
Again you winced, averting your eyes when he lifted his head. “Four.” The word was mumbled under your breath, and it wasn’t until you felt his hand tighten around your own, did your gaze snap back to his.
“What the fuck slip,” he breathed.
“Look they weren’t–”
“You could have gotten yourself killed,” he snapped.
Rearing back, you tried not to flinch from the pain in your side. “I was perfectly fine on my own.”
“Perfectly fine huh?” He stood when you nodded defiantly. “Then explain why you came to me bleeding.”
“I told you I had nowhere else to go,” you said.
He scoffed, shoving the opposite stool he was on closer to you, and sitting down. “Don’t lie to me.”
“Why?” Now it was his turn to back away. “Why shouldn’t I lie to you? If you haven’t noticed Dameron–we hate each other. I can’t remember a single time you were ever nice to me willingly so give me one good reason why I should even consider telling you the truth.”
“Because–”
“Because why?” you shouted, no longer in control of the emotions that unraveled your very being.
This was inevitable in the end. A fight between foes–when the meaning was far more than either of you could comprehend at a time like this. If you weren’t injured, you’d have tried to shove him away from you. Put as much distance between the both of you as possible, but you couldn’t tear your eyes away from his, let alone shift your body away far enough to clear your head.
“Because it’s us!” Dropping his head into his hands he rubbed at his eyes, oblivious to the way your mouth dropped open slightly. “It’s us. And yeah we fight, and we try to kill each other, but it’s us. I’d take a fucking bolt from a blaster for you.”
Your breath hitched, eyes watering at the sight of him tearing his own walls down for you. The same person he made everyone think he hated. You must have been stuck in a dream that found its fun in making something like this feel so real. It was twisted how much you longed for it to be real–how you wished you could break down your own walls just as he did.
“Poe–”
“If you don’t think that’s true then you obviously don’t know who pushed you out of the way in the last battle.”
You remember that day. A stormtrooper had gotten the upper hand, and while you were attempting to leap for an abandoned blaster on the floor, he had fired the shot. Someone shoved you of the way, effectively knocking your head against a rock and knocking you out. Except they had saved you from dying. Now–as you watched him run his hands through his hair to appease some of the stress building in his body, you realized how wrong you’d read every situation since then.
The walls holding in every built in emotion you had felt in the last year cracked. Severing your armor in two–allowing him to see a part of you that you closed off to everyone else.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” you breathed, eyes still wide.
He shrugged. “Why didn’t you tell me you took down the TIE fighter that nearly blew me to pieces?”
Freezing in place, you watched his lips tug upwards in a small grin as the truth finally spilled free. You weren’t even supposed to be in an X-Wing, but then you heard the panicked transmission call. They were out-manned, outgunned, and on the verge of being wiped out. So you did the smart thing. You jumped in a ship and attempted to help–saving Dameron halfway through the battle from the very brink of death.
“How did you–”
He leaned closer, invading whatever personal space you had left. “Rose can’t keep a secret to save her life after four glasses of Jet juice.”
“You knew this whole time that I saved you?” Exhaling a shaky breath, you tried to stop your heart from leaping out of your chest. “You knew and you didn’t tell me?”
“I figured you hated me, but not enough to watch me die.”
“Poe Dameron you’re an asshole.” It was said through a weak laugh, the tears spilling down your cheek as you realized how stupid the both of you were.
He smiled, cupping your face and wiping them away with a soft brush of his thumbs. “Right back at you slip.”
Shifting, you managed to lean your forehead against his, eyes shutting for a moment of peace. “Hey, why do you call me that?”
His huff of laughter washed across your face–his thumbs still stroking your cheeks. “Cause you slipped through my fingers when we first met and have been ever since.”
If you didn’t feel the absolute ache in your chest before that moment, you did now. Somehow he’d taken every time you’d burned with anger towards him and flipped it–causing you to burn, ache, long for him the longer you sat there. He was the reason you were still alive; the true reason why you came here for help instead of anywhere else. You wanted to see him–to know that the loathing he felt was just a cover for something he couldn't quite yet describe.
“Poe,” you whispered, placing your hands on his shoulder in order to keep him from moving. “I–” The breath in your lungs stuttered as you tried to get out words that you never realized you felt until tonight.
They were stuck, lodged in your throat as you realized what it would mean for you to finally admit that this was real. You’d have to open up to him–show him all the ugly bits you did your best to ignore, because they were far from perfect. You were far from perfect. Except he didn’t seem to care.
“I know,” he said. “Me too.”
Gripping lightly on his hair you dragged him closer until his lips sealed over yours, effectively stopping your heart. You were nearly positive that he’d stolen every breath you had ever taken and would take in the course of your life, with this one single kiss. Which only made you press against him harder, lips moving in a more swift manner to forget the pain you both put each other through to get here. How stupid were you to think you could make an enemy out of a fated lover.
Licking against his bottom lip, you felt his hand slide from your cheeks down to your waist. Gentle enough to avoid the wounded areas, but firm in the decision he was making. He chose you. He’d always choose you.
The taste of him would leave you inebriated for days to come. Peppermint and something so purely him that you wouldn’t have been able to put into words even if you tried. Somehow that left you wanton, desperate for more. It stuck to your taste buds, shooting lust through your veins. Curling your fingers even further into his hair, you tentatively opened your mouth to him, shivering when he took the initiative to lick slowly–hotly–against your tongue.
You could stay there for hours just doing this. Tasting him for as long as time allotted you to do so. However, fate had a slight difference in opinion, because as you moaned into his mouth, he gripped your side–sending a jarring pain down to the very tips of your toes. Crying out, you yanked him back by his hair; an audible groan tearing from his throat.
“I’m sorry,” you said, letting go instantly. “I just–”
“Where does it hurt?” He bypassed your apology, choosing instead to run his hands lightly over your side until he caught you noticeably flinching.
“It’s–fuck–I swear it’s fine.”
He shook his head, biting back his smile as you attempted to play off the pain that nearly had you collapsing onto the floor. Picking up the bacta kit he began to put it together. Really it would take a few seconds and it would be over with, but the way he glanced at you for permission before lifting the side of your shirt, felt like the act took longer than that. Biting down on your split lip, you ignored the way your body tensed when his warm calloused hands touched your side.
“This might hurt,” he mumbled, still so close that you could feel his breath against your arm.
“I can take it.”
Seeing him attempt to swallow down his smirk had your thighs clenching together. While you certainly hadn’t meant for it to sound that way, you weren’t upset when his mind fell to that conclusion. If you weren’t stuck in one spot, you’d have asked him to do far more than simply kiss you. Which made the entire situation that much more aggravating.
You could only kiss him.
Tensing as the needle punctured your skin, you forced yourself to think of anything other than the situation you were in. You couldn’t look at him–not when he was leaning forward like this, his lips inches away from your arm. Not when you could feel your control wavering, on the verge of snapping in two. Fuck your injuries, you’d heal eventually, but knowing Poe he’d demand that before either of you two did anything–you’d have to heal first.
“Stop fidgeting,” he said, pressing down on your side to keep you from pulling away.
“Just hurry up.”
“I’d be able to if you sat still.”
Grumbling under your breath, you felt him pull away, the clink of the needle hitting the counter coming from behind you. “Is that it?”
“I’m going to have to bandage your waist until we can get you to the medic tomorrow.”
“The bacta won’t…heal my ribs?”
He chuckled, grabbing the bandages he had pulled out from the closet you all had in case of emergency. “No it won’t. Bones are a little more complicated.”
“Well fuck–” Wincing when you shifted back, you saw him pause a foot away from you. “What’s wrong? Not enough bandages?”
Poe stumbled over his words, his eyes dropping to your body before dragging back to your eyes. You felt the tug in your stomach at the sight of him openly admiring you, but you shoved it down. Too prideful to admit that you liked the look on his face and wanted to see it again and again.
“No–uh–I’m going to need you to–well–”
“Spit it out Dameron,” you said, a teasing smile spreading across your lips. “It can’t be that hard.”
The words had their intended effect. His eyes narrowed, hands gripping the bandages tighter as he stared at you without any embarrassment in his eyes. Something shifted in the air around you–nearly sparking a fire that slowly inched its way through your body.
“Take off your shirt.” His clipped tone caused your body to react in such a visceral way you nearly let an incoherent whine slip free.
“What?”
Stepping closer, he began to unravel the bandages. “Unless you want the bandages on top of the fabric.”
“No–I–” If you weren't being watched by him–stuttering underneath his gaze–you would have made a sly comment. No doubt causing yet another argument, but the look in his eyes quickened your pace.
It took you painfully shifting and him helping you–his hands dragging up your sides slow enough to have you shutting your eyes for some reprieve–for you to finally get the shirt off. You were better off simply sitting here rather than feeling him handle you as if you’d break any minute. It was maddening. Yet each time he wound his arms around you to keep the bandage straight, each brush of his hands along your bare skin, sent shivers down your spine.
“Almost done,” he said.
You opened your eyes, peeking at his face and felt your stomach bottom out. His jaw was clenched, eyes staring directly at his hands that didn’t stray from his task. What you thought was merely you overreacting at the loss of touch you’d experienced, was something else entirely. Poe had always been the man to keep perfect control over everything he worked on–a spitting image of the leader he was meant to be. At times you found it annoying, except you never realized how far his need for control went.
“Poe,” you murmured, breaking through his tightly locked mindset and allowing him a moment to pull away.
“Did I hurt you?” he asked.
Shaking your head, you ran your fingers through his curls, pushing them away from his forehead. You never understood the fascination with a man’s hair until this moment. Until he titled his head back–leaning into your touch–as his eyes fluttered shut. The look on his face nearly brought you down to your knees and even as he opened his eyes, you saw the brown nearly swallowed whole by his pupil. He wanted more.
You both did.
“Poe–”
He pulled away, returning to his spot on the stool and tying off the bandage. “You’re injured,” he said. In all honesty you weren’t sure if he was trying to convince you or himself. “I’m not going to be the reason you hurt even more.”
“You won’t hurt me.”
The words felt strange coming from you, knowing everything you went through to get to this point. It was ironic in a way. Except you couldn’t focus on the past–you didn’t want to. Knowing that the thoughts you had weren’t just fickle emotions, brought out new sensations you knew only he could make you feel. Poe Dameron was an addiction you didn’t want to kick. He was the poison in your veins and the antidote on your tongue.
Wincing, you leaned forward to bring his gaze back to you. “You can still kiss me…”
The worry on his face gave way to a smile you’d only seen directed at you a few times. Well–the times you’d actually been looking at him. You didn’t know it yet, but you were the cause of nearly all his smiles; the reason he found himself in a daze–lost in thoughts of you. Without hesitation, he captured your lips with his. The tang of him, already something you missed, once again filled your senses. You couldn’t tell if you wanted to drag him closer or pull away for air, but you decided on the former.
Gasping as one of his hands hesitantly brushed against your bare breast, you nearly fell into his lap. If you weren’t careful the both of you would end up on the floor and that would cause more harm than good. Poe knew that, which is why it only took him a few seconds to switch places with you. Shifting your body until your legs were over his thighs–the heat of his body now pressing firmly against yours.
“Fuck–” you breathed; practically shaking as your nipples brushed against his bare chest.
“My beautiful girl,” he mumbled against your cheek, his lips trailing down to your jaw–nipping lightly at the skin there. “Saved my life.”
The words you intended to say came out as a whine of his name instead when he pressed your hips down against his own. Effectively grinding his cock right against your clothed cunt. Sparks trailed up your spine, giving kindling to the fire that now streaked its way through your veins–causing you to press even closer to him.
Thankfully the bacta shot numbed the pain you were in, but you knew things wouldn’t get farther than this tonight. If there’s one thing you understood–Poe never backed out on his word. He’d kiss you until your head went fuzzy and your heart nearly gave out, but he wouldn’t press you into something that would cause your body pain. Somehow that only made you want him more. Until you were practically dragging yourself against his lap and sucking his tongue into your mouth.
He groaned, his hand grasping at your ass to still your movements. “We can’t–”
“Please,” you breathed; the beg was clear in your voice. “I’ll be good.”
“Fuck baby you’re going to kill me.”
Giggling, you scraped your teeth along his jaw. “You and I both know it takes a lot more than me begging for your cock to kill you.”
“Don’t be so sure about that,” he grunted, his hand reaching for the button of your pants.
The first touch of his fingers sliding through your slick nearly caused you to lose all sense of yourself. A heady moan ripped its way out of your throat as you tucked your face into his neck. Without meaning to, you began to grind against his fingers–positive that you wouldn’t last more than a few minutes from just him exploring. You were desperate for him; aching to feel him fill you entirely.
“Is this cause of me?” he asked, his eyes wide at the feeling of you practically dripping onto his palm.
You nodded, pressing your lips against his. “Yes. Now can you please–please touch me.”
Your heart nearly shattered when he shook his head, pulling his hand from you. This was the sensible thing to do. Wait until you are completely healed to move any further. Only you couldn’t stop the cry of desperation from leaving you. Steadying your breath, you began to shift away from him; certain that the both of you would simply head to bed now.
His hand grasping onto yours is what stopped you from moving.
“What–”
“Show me,” he breathed, dragging your bottom lip into his mouth and letting it go.
“Huh?” Your brain had turned to mush at the idea he was suggesting.
It wasn’t until he clasped your hand over his, having you guide him towards your cunt did you realize exactly what he wanted. Show me. He wanted to know what you wanted. How you liked to be touched; what exactly would get you there to the very edge of climaxing. His eyes were clouded with lust, mouth swollen and spit slicked as he watched the realization dawn on your face.
“Show me,” he urged a second time, biting down on his bottom lip when you finally took the initiative.
A ragged gasp left you when you pressed his fingers lightly to your clit, teaching him the pace that made your toes curl. Already you could feel your orgasm building, the tightening in your stomach growing with every swipe of his calloused fingers against you. Pushing his hand down further, you guided him, moaning when his fingers caught on your entrance. It wouldn’t take you long to hit that peak, his name already a pleaded out moan on your lips, but you needed more than what you could show him.
“I need–” You tilted your head back when he pressed the first finger into you.
“What do you need?” he asked, his other hand cupping the back of your neck to bring your lips back to his. “Tell me and I’ll give it to you.”
“I–” He slid another finger into you, smiling briefly as you choked on your words. “I need more. Oh fuck.”
“Yeah?”
You nodded, digging your nails into his shoulder. If you thought you were guiding him on how to give you an orgasm, you were sorely mistaken. Within seconds, you were a mess on his lap as he sped up the pace of his fingers, the heel of his palm grinding against your clit with every movement. Feeling his eyes on you as your mouth dropped open and your eyes fell shut was almost too much.
“Poe!” you cried out when he found the spot along your walls, rubbing his fingers over it with every thrust. “I’m gonna–ah fuck I’m gonna cum.”
“C’mon baby,” he murmured. “Cum on my fingers.”
You didn’t hear the rest of his words, because the coil in your body finally snapped. Shattering your very being in two as he pushed you even higher with his fingers. Above the sounds of your breathing was the audible echo of his fingers plunging in and out of your cunt. The wet squelch enough to have your orgasm prolonging to a point of near pain.
Sobbing out his name, your legs shook as he gradually slowed the pace of his hand until you were reaching down to stop it altogether. Sparks spread up and down your spine, rendering you immobile as you gasped for a full lungful of air.
“That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen,” he said, the disbelief clear in his voice.
Laughing softly, you pressed your lips against his. “I can’t feel my legs.”
“Good kind or…”
“Definitely the good kind.”
You watched as he sucked his fingers into his mouth, moaning at the taste of you. The sight of his eyes shutting in bliss made your clit throb and you nearly asked him to do it again. Instead, you opted for kissing him–tasting yourself on his tongue–while you waited for the feeling in your legs to return.
Which they did a few minutes later.
“Oh shit,” you muttered, glancing at the digital clock he had attached to the wall.
“What’s wrong?” Sighing, you attempted to get up from his lap only to have him stop you. “What happened?”
“I forgot my jacket at the cantina,” you said.
“You can wear mine.”
The ease in which he said those words reminded you of your feelings. You would choose him again and again, no matter the consequences in the end.
“I’d love to,” you replied, wincing as you stood up. “But it was my dad’s jacket. I can’t lose it.”
Poe got to his feet–his hands settling on your hips to keep you steady. “Wasn’t he a pilot?”
“In the Rebellion. Yeah. I didn’t know you knew that.”
“I always paid attention when you thought I didn’t.”
Smiling, you felt heat begin to creep up the back of your neck, warming your face. “Thanks…for paying attention.”
“Don’t thank me yet slip,” he said, leading you through a few stumbling steps till your legs hit the edge of his bed. “I’ve still got to make you see the Maker once you’re fully healed.”
He laughed when you smacked him on the arm, your body finding the thought incredibly appealing. There was something dangerous about being this in tune with someone you thought you hated once. You weren’t sure it was a good thing or a bad thing yet, but you knew he’d help you find out eventually. So, rather than fight against the feelings that begged to be bricked up and hidden, you gave into something greater.
It took three more sexual jokes, a kiss or two, but soon you were lying together in the bed, his chest pressed against yours. You tucked your head into the crook of his neck, breathing in his scent as you drifted off. Happy for once in a very long time.
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Feeling the uncomfortable ache return to your side woke you up from your relaxing sleep–causing irritation to rise in your body. Poe slept soundly beside you, his arm wrapped tightly around your waist and head pressed into your neck. Which is why you tried to stay as still as possible. Except you could feel the burn start to come back with full force.
You had to see a medic today. The sooner the better.
Shifting slowly, you managed to turn to your other side–relieving some of the pain. Only to freeze as you caught sight of the brown leather pilot’s jacket hanging off the back of a chair. Blinking, you cleared the sleep from your eyes to make sure you were seeing what you actually thought you were seeing. The same jacket you’d left behind–the very last piece of your father you had–was directly in front of you.
Your breath caught in your throat–the tears welling up in your eyes. Poe had ventured out into the pouring rain in the late hours of the night, all to retrieve your jacket. He knew how important it was to you; understood the significance of the garment you wore proudly each and every day.
Blinking back the tears you felt the last of your walls crumble into pieces around you. Finally exposing your heart to the world that had turned it cold in the first place. Only now, as you felt Poe stir behind you–your eyes still stuck on your jacket–did you know that your heart was eternally protected. Just as he saved your life and healed your wounds, he’d do the same for your heart.
For as long as time allowed.
3K notes · View notes
foxilayde · 2 years
Text
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
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
If you see yourself on this taglist and you wish to be removed from this and future works pls message me, no hard feelings I promise. Love ya sluts. 
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venuslore · 6 months
Note
oh em gee okay what about "this is a good look for you." + poe dameron, maybe he gives you his jacket (prized possession) cos it's cold or something and then can't stop salivating over you in it 😵‍💫
requested by @bruisedboys ᰔ
𖥔 𝐓𝐑𝐘𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐍 𝐏𝐎𝐄'𝐒 𝐉𝐀𝐂𝐊𝐄𝐓 𖥔
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it was rare for you, or anyone, to see poe without his jacket during the day. it was the one thing he always made sure to have with him. well, that and bb8. no matter the weather, or the mission, the deep brown leather was always cradling his shoulders.
and yet, as you stood in poe's room, you couldn't help but eye the materialistic item as it sat before you. draped over the back of a chair, where he had taken it off only moments ago, before disappearing out the door.
it was certainly an upgrade from his last jacket, and there was no denying how good he looked in it. was it heavy? was it warm? did it... smell like poe? these were all things you had wondered before.
looking back at the door there was still no sign of poe, and you weren't sure how long he would take, but there was a tingling feeling in the pit of your tummy that was dying to try it on. surely he wouldn't mind, though, he also didn't need to know.
you decide to bite the temptation and pick it up from it's spot. so long as you put it back exactly where it was, what was the harm in trying it on?
the outside was cool to the touch and it was pretty hefty for a jacket, but poe was strong, so there was no doubt it weighed almost nothing to him. though as you slipped your arms inside and pulled it around yourself, the weight dispersed and it just felt...
...cozy.
the inside was softer than you thought it would be. smooth as it glides across your skin, and the longer you wore it, you realised that it did smell like poe. the faint musk of him invading your senses as you hugged it tighter to yourself.
"and what do we have here?" poe's voice cuts your thoughts and you quickly twirl to see him standing in the doorway. he takes a moment to look you up and down before returning his gaze to yours. "y'know, if you wanted to try it on, all you had to do was ask."
there's a playfulness to his tone and the longer he stares at you, a smirk slowly begins to tug at the corner of his lips. you watch as he kicks the door shut behind him and takes a few steps towards you.
"you aren't mad?" your voice is quiet, not scared, just quiet.
he shakes his head, taking the opportunity to take you in once more as he takes the sides of the jacket in his hands and pulls you closer to him. "no. this is a good look for you. in fact, i might have to get you to start wearing it more often."
"think that can be arranged," you match his grin now and press a slow kiss to his lips.
"oh, i bet."
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picklejar-hall-of-fame · 11 months
Text
May The 4th Be With You
To celebrate this wonderful day, I'm releasing an early May Fic Rec List don't worry, the full list will come by the end of the month on all the Star Wars fics that still keep me up at night❤️
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Din Djarin
It's All About What You Want - @thirstworldproblemss - One of the few a/b/o fics that are well written💞 I don't read much a/b/o fics but this one sucked me in faster than that sarlac pit swallowing Boba Fett😭
Fallen Gods - @divinehedons - I'm not that much of a dark!din djarin Stan but it's growing on me. And it is growing out of control because of this fic😭
Unexpected Constellations - @jreads - Look me in the eye and tell me that this isn't one of the best Din Djarin fanfictions out there. I dare you🙂🔪 The fact that I'm still trying and failing to get over the last chapter is a testament to how you've fucked my entire life😭
Chemical Feelings - @absurdthirst - You can never go wrong with Din trying to resist a sex pollen but evidently giving the urge to fuck you senseless. Absolute smut and I am here for it💋🔥
Clan Mudhorn Snippet - @cevans-is-classic - Some cute fluff with Din Djarin's clan💞
Under The Stars - @f0rg3t-me-n0t - He is good with his words, but terrible at the same time😭 Join the adventures of Din Djarin trying and succeeding at being smooth✨
To The Bone - @honeydjarin - soulmate fics are top tier😭👌🏼 but this?🥺🥺🥺 This is absolute heaven💐💐💐💐 slaps with angst tho, but that's fine
Heartbreak Series - @sofasoap - if you're looking for something cute, with a gallon of angst, then you're in the right place😉 this one's a doozy, so hold on to your bootstraps!✨
Beloved - @groguspicklejar - Although it's not the most poetic, most popular, most anything really, reading my own fic satisfies me in a way none other can, so I feel like I should just add it here just for shits and giggles. Don't fight me on this.
Poe Dameron
Poe and doggystyle - @dameronscopilot - absolutely filth and you all know how much I love to wallow in it🥴🥴🥴
Right Where You Left Me - @light-yaers - The rollercoaster of emotions this gem has put me through You're gonna need to lay down for this one because it's going to leave you in tears like it did to me😭
Dress - @starryevermore - something cute, something fluffy with a touch of angst💞 love this so so much💐
It Always Belonged To You - @im-poe-dameron - you had me at enemies-to-lovers🤤 if I'm going to have an enemy, it better be Poe Dameron. He can do anything he wants with me🔥🔥🔥🔥
Nine - @foxilayde - This man has no limits. I am going to have to bathe in holy water once again because this is sure to send even a nun to hell🙃🔥
Ten, Eleven, Twelve - @foxilayde - honestly, I wasn't aware of the sequel until a little while later, but I was happy nonetheless❤️
Captain Rex
Hierarchy Of Needs - @zinzinina - Look, I don't read much of Rex's fics but this? This takes the cake👌🏼✨💞 I recommend a fresh pair of panties at the end of reading this tho💀
Cassian Andor
The Sun On Both Sides - @no-droids - The only Cassian fic I've read in my entire life. Nothing else shall ever compare to your glory🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥
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gooddaykate · 11 months
Text
My Heart Seeks Yours
Poe Dameron x fem! reader
Summary: You and Poe were best friends. You confessed your feelings for him and he rejected you. After running away and spending years apart, you are reunited when he joins the Resistance.
Author's Note: Nothing, really... it's angsty. Actually I lied, there is one warning, and that's the fact that this may never be finished. So it may be an angsty cliffhanger forever, sorry. Also? Bless @its-the-darkest-timeline for liking my question of if this was even wanted- thanks bb
cross-posted on ao3
not my GIF
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Growing up on Yavin 4 with Poe Dameron had made you wild.
Running spice on Kajimi with Poe Dameron had made you reckless.
Working your way up to Colonel in the Resistance without Poe Dameron had made you disciplined. And you had done it all on your own. You had left Poe in the Thieves’ Quarter one night without a word and hadn’t looked back. If your heart yearned for someone you knew you couldn’t have, well, that was nobody’s business.
It had been years since you had seen or even heard about Poe. And frankly, that was fine by you.  It didn’t mean you thought about him any less, but one could dream.
Someone cleared their throat and broke you out of your  thoughts. You looked up from your datapad to see Lieutenant Connix. “Colonel, the General has requested an audience. There is a new squadron of recruits from the New Republic.”
“Pilots?” you asked her with a sigh.
Kaydel smirked back at you. “Pilots.”
The General looked up from the reports she was focused on when you entered high command.
“Oh, good, I’m glad you’re here. I’m sure the Lieutenant filled you in on the new squadron. I want you to take them under your wing. Particularly their leader. He is rash, but passionate. We could certainly use some passion.”
“Yes, General.”
She sent a soft  smile your way. “How many times do I have to tell you to call me Leia, dear?”
“One more time, ma’am.”
Her eyebrows raised, but she continued with another soft smile and a shake of her head. “The commander is a phenomenal pilot. I’ve heard he might even be better than you, Colonel.”
You huffed out a laugh, “We’ll see about that, ma’am.”
She hummed and reached out to pat your arm. “I’m sure you will. He’s the son of Shara Bey.”
Dread settled in your stomach. “Shara Bey? Really.” Your voice cracked in the middle of her name, but Leia didn’t mention it.
“Oh, yes. I’m sure you know she led the defense on Naboo and helped my brother with a Jedi errand before she retired. I think she actually settled on your home planet.”
“Ah, yes ma’am. Yavin 4. I knew Mrs. Dameron before… you know. We were neighbors. She’s who taught me to fly.”
Leia’s eyes lit up. “Then you know Poe already. Sometimes the galaxy feels much smaller than it is, doesn’t it?”
“It certainly can.” 
“Well, enjoy this little reunion.” With a wave of her hand, she dismissed you to the flight deck.
Faced with seeing the man who once knew you best, your mind was in a panic. The memories of the night you left had been on a constant loop since Leia had said he was here.
He had come into your room gushing about one of the other runners- the leader’s daughter. 
“She’s incredible. She really is. I think I could probably love her.”
Any time Poe would speak to you about Zorii, your stomach tied up in knots, and this time was no exception. You had come to terms that he might mean more to you than friends, but in that moment, you actually felt your heart break.
You plastered on your best smile, even though you knew he’d be able to see right through it.
“Good for you, bud. Do you know how she feels?”
His eyes were narrowed and he gave you a skeptical look. “I know she likes me.”
Your breath caught in your throat but you powered through. You gave his arm a light punch. “How could she not? You’re Poe kriffing Dameron!”
“What’s wrong?”
With your best noncommittal shrug, you got up from your bed that the two of you were sitting on. “Why would something be wrong, Poe?”
“I don’t know, why would something be wrong?”
You scoffed, but refused to turn around and met his eyes. “I don’t know what you’re getting at, Poe.”
Poe was quiet for a moment longer. It made you startle when he put his hand on your shoulder because you hadn’t heard him get up. “You can talk to me about whatever’s going on, Bug. I can help you with whatever it is.”
A sad smile crossed your face, and Poe’s eyes became concerned. “Not with this, bud. You can’t help with this.”
“Bug, come on. You’re worrying me. You know I can fix anything.”
“Well, don’t worry.” You shrugged his hand off your shoulder and still hadn’t met his eyes. “What makes you so sure I even want you to help, Poe? There’s a reason I haven’t told you about it.”
“I- We tell each other everything, though. Are you- are you in some sort of trouble? Is it Zeva?”
“Maker, alive. No, Poe, I am not in any sort of trouble with Zeva or anyone else. I just don’t want to talk about it.”
He ducked his head enough that you were forced to make eye contact with him. “Bug, I’m worried because I care. Please, just talk to me.”
“You care,” you scoffed back at him.
“Of course I care!” Poe was pleading with you, now, his dark eyes vulnerable.  “You’ve been my best friend since we were kids.”
He put his hands on your shoulders and dragged you forward so that he could rest his forehead on yours. He stood there quiet for a moment with his eyes closed. “You mean everything to me.”
“You’ll look at me differently, Poe. I know you will. And I never want that to happen,” you whispered back.
A single tear fell down your cheek as he pulled his face away from yours. “Talk to me, sweetheart. Nothing could ever come between the two of us.” He swiped the tear away with his thumb and said your name, your real name, with such tenderness that your resolve broke.
“You aren’t mine… but sometimes I pretend you wish you were. I pretend that you secretly want me, too. I regularly forget that it’s something I’ve made up, that you don’t want me. That you aren’t mine.”
“I don’t-”
“I’m in love with you, Poe,” you said plainly. “I have been since we were kids.” More tears were falling, now, and you were helpless to stop them. “Maker, why do you think I followed you to Kajimi? Do you really think I want to be here? That I want to be a criminal?”
Poe dropped his hands and took a step back. “But I thought-”
“But it’s never me. You never see me.”
“Bug, that’s not- I can’t just- I have to- because Zorii-”
He looked panicked, and you turned so you wouldn’t have to face him anymore.
When Poe still didn’t say anything, your shoulders fell even more. “I think maybe you should leave, Poe,” you whispered.
You heard him take a step forward, and you knew that if you turned around, he’d have a hand out reaching for you. “Can I-”
“Please go.”
“Bug, please.”
Poe’s voice sounded as tortured as you felt, but you just wanted to cry in peace. Maybe his rejection would feel less painful, then. “Poe, please leave.”
You heard his hand drop and he sighed. “Okay.” Your door opened and it was quiet again. “Promise me something?”
And because it was Poe asking, you couldn’t help but oblige. You turned your head so he knew you were listening.
“Promise me the next time I see you, we’ll talk about this. There are… things to say. Things you need to know.”
“Sure, Poe.”
“I’m going to hold you to that. You mean everything to me. That will never change.”
“Okay, Poe.”
The room was quiet for a moment longer and you could feel his eyes on the back of your neck. Only when he closed the door behind him did you collapse in on yourself. You curled yourself into a ball and cried for what felt like a lifetime. When you couldn’t cry anymore, you straightened yourself out and got to work packing the small amount of personal belongings you had brought with you from home. If you were gone come morning, there wouldn’t be anything to talk about.
With another cursory glance around the quarters you tried to pretend were home, you headed into the frigid Kajimi weather to catch a transport shuttle to anywhere.
On the third (or maybe fourth- you don’t remember, now) transport you hopped on to disperse any trail you left behind, you met Snap. He was on his way to reunite with his mother after having been separated from her for a number of years. You didn’t want to speak to anyone, but Snap didn’t care; he did all the talking anyway. He told you about his battle droid, Mister Bones. He told you about how his parents were taken from him, and how he was going to join the rebels with her. Then his voice fell to a hush and he asked if you’d like to come with him
Just like that, you had a new home and a new best friend.
You kept your head down, for the most part, but then you did something equally brave and stupid. You got noticed. You’d noticed an anomaly in a report. And when you looked into it, you noticed it again and again, going back for several months. The closer you looked, the more malicious it seemed.
As quietly as possible, you had requested an audience with the General. Even if it ended up being nothing, you didn’t want to trust anyone else with it.
When the General promoted you all the way to major, she explained it away with a shrug of her shoulders and a “that’s what ousting a First Order spy will get you”. When she promoted you to commander and then to colonel, she only had proud tears shining in her eyes. Leia wasn’t without her moments of mischief, though, and you had a sinking feeling that she’d already known at least some of your history with Shara Bey’s son.
You were just going to have to hope he didn’t recognize you- or better yet, not even remember you.
The flight deck was a mess of bodies when you finally willed yourself down there. Snap had inserted himself somewhere in the chaos- you could hear him, but not see him. When the resistance pilots noticed your presence, it was with immediate attention. You had earned your place and their respect, and they knew it.
There were only a few voices still heard, one of which you knew to be the man you still pined after, all these years later. They caught on to the quiet relatively quickly, and when Snap saw you, he beamed.
It was like time slowed down. He was turning and any moment, your eyes would meet for the first time in years. The building smile froze on his face and his helmet clattered to the floor as soon as he saw who was standing in front of him. The two of you just looked at each other, and you could see the anger settling in his features. The rest of the people on the flight deck were watching the two of you, waiting to see what would happen. You would never put it past him to make a scene, so you opted to address the deck before he could.
You gave the new pilots your name. “I am your colonel. I have earned that rank here, so you will address me as such. The General and I may see fit to disband your current squadron and place you as individuals on other teams. Captains Pava and Wexley are your current commanding officers. We need good pilots, that is irrefutably true. We also need good people. I hope each and every one of you finds your place here,” your eyes roamed the faces in front of you, and you purposely skipped over Poe. “If you need anything, the captains or I can answer any questions you may have, as well as Vice Admiral Holdo.”
“The colonel’s really not as much of a hard-ass as she sounds,” Snap piped up from his spot near the back of the group.
Despite yourself, Snap’s joke had the beginnings of a grin starting on your face. “Thank you for that addition, Captain Wexley.” With a small shake of your head, you straightened yourself back to your rank. “Your training starts at 0500 tomorrow morning. In the meantime, the captains will show you to your new bunks,” you nodded in farewell. “Until tomorrow, everyone. May the Force be with you.”
Again, you refused to meet Poe’s eyes. You’d made it most of the way down the corridor while he called out both your name and his nickname for you, and when you still didn’t stop for him, he yelled out, “Colonel!” Your body stopped and your heart clenched. But you could do this. You were a colonel in the resistance, for maker’s sake. You could face the man you… 
You turned toward him jogging to reach you. “How can I help you?”
Poe’s eyes were dark with emotion. “Really? That’s all you have to say to me? You owe me a conversation and you know it.”
“I’m a busy woman, so by all means, say what you need to say.”
“You left. You promised me- but then you just left. I was going to- You deserved to know. But you left me. I didn’t even know you were alive.”
“You could have asked Kes. I’m sure he knew. Our fathers never could keep secrets from each other.”
There were tears gathering in Poe’s eyes, and you made yourself look anywhere but at him so you wouldn’t give away your own heart.
“Why did you leave me behind, Bug?” he whispered.
“I didn’t belong there. We both knew that.”
“If you weren’t happy, you should have told me!” his voice rose in volume until it echoed around the deck. You took a step toward him with your hand raised, trying to get him to keep his tone lowered.
“Oh, yes, and we would have gone home and you would have resented me for taking away your adventure!” you hissed.
Poe’s eyes were sad when you looked back up at him. “I never would have resented you. You meant everything to me,” he shifted on his feet and looked down. “You still do.”
“Maybe so, but I couldn’t stay. And I’m not really sure you wanted me there, either, seeing as you had your budding romance.”
He scoffed and looked away from you, his jaw shifting. “Zorii had nothing to do with anything. If you’d’ve stayed, you would have known that.” He sighed your name and reached for you, like no time had passed between you. You let him hold your hand, his fingers tracing the lines of your palm. His voice was quiet when he spoke again. “Did you ever- did you think of me?”
Your body shuttered out a sob, not able to hold it in anymore, and he continued. “I thought of you- every moment of every day. I prayed to every god I knew of that you were safe. That you were alive. Maker, I died that day, knowing you’d left me. And that I was the reason you’d gone.” His eyes were misty when he looked up from where his fingers still traced your hand. “I’ve missed you. I missed you like my soul was ripped from my body. Like I’ve lost you in every single lifetime. And knowing it was because you didn’t know, because I had never thought to hope. It was torture, Bug.”
When he reached up to brush a tear from your face, another sob tore from you.
“Please,” you whispered. “Please just let me be. I wouldn’t survive a second time.”
Poe’s hand was still holding yours and his eyes were pleading with you to listen and understand him. “There is no pretending. I love you. I loved you then and I love you now. I will love you until I die, and if there is life after that, I will love you then, too.”
Your breath was coming out in short gasps, unable to find purchase in your lungs. Everything you’d ever desperately dreamed of hearing from him, all the hope you’d ever poured into the unrequited love for your best friend. But you couldn’t do this again. You had snuffed out the hope in yourself, and you wouldn’t let yourself be dragged back in.
So when he asked, with all the love you’d ever hoped to be returned to you shining in his eyes, “do you think you could ever love me again?”, you would never forget the pain, the heartbreak clear as day on his face as you responded. “Of course I could, and I hate myself for it."
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eyelessfaces · 2 years
Note
I'm already back 🧍‍♀️
Anywaysssss
I was thinking of another Poe dameron fic (he lives rent free in my head)
You're poe's fem!solider best friend and one day you get badly injured after a mission and poe's literally with you for your entire recover. You're cold? He has a blanket. You're hungry? Had a plate of food from the cantina. You're sad? Is in your bed cuddling you. He's helping you with your physical therapy, bringing you everywhere. He literally asked Leia to give him a month's break from his favorite thing ever (besides you) flying just to help recover.
I'm so sorry I'm being a nuisances. 😭
heal
poe dameron x reader
hiii sorry it took so long but here it is I hope you'll enjoy it!!
summary: poe was ready to confess his love for you, but things got in the way. now the best way for him to show you his love is to be by your side while you recover.
warnings: mentions of injuries ofc, angst
tags: f!reader, best friends to lovers <33, love confession, fluff, very self indulgent tbh
word count: 3.4k (phew)
reblogs and feedback are appreciated!!
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Poe stepped out of his X-wing, proudly taking off his helmet before glancing at a reflection, making sure his dark brown curls still looked good. He wanted to be sure he looked alright. A shot of confidence had shot through his veins as he came back from a hectic mission, and he wanted to do what he had waited to do for months, what he was eager to tell you for so long. He wanted to confess his love to you now, to let you know how much he cared about you, how much he wanted you to be his and how that ring attached to his chain was meant to belong to you. He was excited, and he wasn't even remotely anxious about it. He knew what he was doing and deep inside of him, he knew you felt the same way, and he couldn't wait to start the rest of his life with you.
He walked through the hangar, helmet under his arm as he looked around. He knew your mission was supposed to end not long before his did, and he was so thrilled to see you again, he didn't even bother to take off his flight suit.
He glanced around and saw two people he knew were in your team. One girl Poe knew was your friend was standing against a wall of the hangar, a hand on her hip and the other on her forehead. She looked troubled. The guy with her looked like he was trying to reassure her, putting a friendly hand to her shoulder. Poe walked to them, feeling sorry he had to interrupt their conversation but in desperate need to know where you were.
"'Scuse me, do you have any idea where Y/N is?" he asked as the two faces turned to him.
The girl sighed slightly, and didn't dare making eye contact with the pilot.
The man stepped in front of Poe and bit his lip in apprehension.
"Uh man..." he sighed scratching his cheek anxiously. "The mission went wrong. They had to bring her back because she got shot." he said pinching his lips, watching the pilot's face slowly decompose.
"What?" Poe asked not quite catching what the other man had just told him. "No no you gotta be kidding me." he huffed turning around, pinching the bridge of his nose in disbelief.
"I'm not man. They admitted her in medbay like twenty minutes ago. She was passed out."
"Shit. Shit shit shit. I need to see her" he panicked, running to the medbay hurriedly.
---
Poe arrived in front of the medbay section, panting. He brought his hands to his knees to catch his breath a little and got ready to enter the room before droids stood in his way.
"Sorry, you can't go in." the droid on the right said.
"What?! No. I need to see her!" he exclaimed showing the reinforced door.
"Her state is too unstable for her to receive visitors." the droid on the left said.
He threw a dry chuckle, not believing the situation. "No no you can't deny me the entry" he muttered under his breath, shaking his head. "You don't get it I really need to see her!" he said shouting at the droids, ready to fight them if he really had to.
"Sorry, you can't go in." the other droid repeated.
"Let him in." a wise voice said from behind Poe, making him turn around.
Leia. She quickly sent him a weak smile, and he didn't even take time to smile back as the droids finally stepped aside to let him in. He knew he would thank her endlessly once he could come back to his senses.
Poe ran into the room, slowing down when he saw your unanimated figure in the bed.
A lump started forming in his throat at the sight. He dragged a chair next to your bed, and sat on it, taking your hand in his, gently stroking the back of it as his decomposed face stared at your closed eyes.
"She needs to rest" Leia's voice resonated in the small room.
Poe turned around hurriedly, as if he was forbidden being here, even though she had allowed it.
"What happened?" he asked softly, scared to wake you up.
"She was being reckless, just like you. She jumped on the enemies but got shot." she said with a nod. "In the stomach." Poe opened his mouth to talk again but she anticipated it. "They took the bullet out and stitched her up. She got knocked out, she has a concussion. Her left leg is broken and her right arm is fractured. It will take some time to heal."
"Is she gonna be okay?" the pilot asked, turning back to you. He noticed the bruise on your forehead and the multiple cuts on your face.
"She will be fine but she really needs to rest. We don't know when she will wake up." Poe nodded slowly, swallowing loudly. He brushed the hair away from your face, gently tugging the strands behind your ear. His touch was shallow, as if he was afraid to break you. "Poe... You don't need to wait here. I know how much she matters to you but it might take a while. You'll be the first one informed when she wakes up." she said with a stern look, practically begging him not to worry too much.
Poe shook his head frantically, still looking at you, chasing away the lump in his throat.
"I'm not leaving her side. I'm staying here" he looked back at the princess. "If you like it or not, General."
Leia pinched her lips before throwing a single nod.
"Fine, Commander. But don't forget to take care of yourself too."
The pilot didn't reply, and the princess left the room, taking one last glance at your unconscious figure.
---
You opened your eyes with difficulty. You thought it felt like you had been hit on the head before remembering you had actually been hit on the head. Poe was here, next to you, holding your hand. He noticed you were awake and put his hand away. You tried to sit up, wanting to move a little considering that your whole body felt sore.
"Hey hey hey, easy. Slow down." he whispered gently. "How do you feel?" he asked softly, putting a hand to your shoulder to push you down.
"Like I've been shot" you joked with a dry chuckle that made you cough.
Poe panicked at the sight of you coughing, not knowing what to do and where to put his hands.
"Are you thirsty? Do you want water? I'm gonna get you water." he said hurriedly getting up to get you water. He quickly came back, putting the glass in your trembling valid hand. He helped you drink, and you quietly thanked him with a raspy voice. He took your empty glass to put it on the table next to your bed before putting his hand over yours again.
You weakly smiled at him, fiddling with his fingers before intertwining them with yours.
"Poe I... I thought I was gonna die and you weren't even here." you said quietly as a tear rolled down your cheek.
Poe weakly smiled back at you and wiped the tear away from your cheek, making sure to avoid the cuts on your face.
"I know... I know. I was so scared for you." he sighed. "Never do that to me again"
"I'm sorry Poe" you said as you gently moved your fingers with his.
"It's not your fault you got shot" he said weakly smiling at you.
You pinched your lips. "Kinda. I was being reckless"
"Yeah Leia told me you were being just like me." he said smiling widely.
You smiled back at him before looking at him closely and frowning. "How long have you been waiting here? Why are you still in your flight suit?" you questionned him, concerned. You didn't have any idea of what time it was but you were dozy enough to know some time had passed.
"Uh... It's been two hours I think." he said looking around him, looking for any indications of what time it was. "And I had just arrived when I learned you were... Uh- half dead." he said chuckling, tilting his head to the side when he realized that wasn't particularly funny. In reality, it really didn't make him laugh.
"You didn't need to stay for so long" you whispered, losing your voice a little.
"I didn't need to but I wanted to." he said while caressing the back of your hand.
"And what have you been doing for two hours?" you asked, looking around to see if there was any object of distraction. "You just sat there and watched me?"
"Well... Yes. Creepy, isn't it?" he joked, squinting his nose.
"If it's you I don't mind." you said under your breath, looking at him with admiration. You were very touched at the fact that he stayed here for so long just for you. "Poe I-"
You were interrupted by droids coming into the room, now that you were awake and they could finally check on you.
Poe turned to them, knowing he had to leave.
"We will need you to leave, sir."
Poe nodded, standing up from his chair. He bent over you and ran a hand through your hair.
"I'll come back as soon as I can honey" he whispered before gently pressing a kiss to your forehead.
You watched him leave the room, a weird feeling filling your stomach.
Poe sighed as the medbay's door shut behind him, left the area and determinedly walked to Leia's office.
He stormed into the room, not bothered to even wonder if Leia was already busy.
"Can we talk?" he asked sternly, standing in front of the woman's desk.
"Sure. What is it about?" she asked sitting up from her chair, walking in front of her desk to stand against it, arms crossed.
"I will need a break from flying" Poe announced with a single nod. It wasn't a question, it wasn't a request, it was an affirmation.
She slightly opened her mouth in confusion.
"You, Poe Dameron, want to take a break from flying." she said frowning, knowing that flying was his whole life, his reason to live.
"You heard me." the man said with a single nod again.
"Is this about Y/N?" Leia asked raising her eyebrows, most definitely already knowing the answer.
"More or less" Poe said pinching his lips. He blinked once, accepting the truth. "It is entirely about Y/N." Leia nodded slowly, smiling slightly. "I am in love with her"
"I know" the princess cut him off.
"How do you know" the man asked immediately, frowning, almost offended.
Leia threw a chuckle, shaking her head while laughing silently.
"I have never seen something so obvious, so big, and so transparent, Poe." she said smiling at him, patting his shoulder. "Tell her."
"Yeah, well, I was planning on it until I learned the news." the man said crossing his arms, his flight suit still on. "I figured it wasn't the right moment anymore"
The princess nodded, obviously agreeing.
"This will be all about taking time from now on." she said sighing. The pilot nodded, looking at his feet.
"I want to be there for her as much as possible. To help her for her recovery. I need to stay by her side." he declared looking back at the woman.
She nodded once again. "Of course. But we can't lack you forever Poe. We will need you back at some point."
The man nodded back at her, thanked her for everything and ran back to medbay, waiting for the droids to leave, to see you again.
---
Every day of every week, Poe was at your bedside.
He still helped the Resistance, without flying as requested, but most of the time, he was with you. When he couldn't see you all day he went before bedtime, telling you about his day and staying there until you fell asleep. He did anything you asked and more. He constantly checked on you, asking you if you needed anything. The man would give you his organs if he could. He read to you as you weren't able to hold a book the first weeks. His voice was so soothing and relaxing, you swore it was one of the best things you had ever experienced. He sometimes talked in funny voices for the different characters just to make you laugh. You hated that your arm had healed so fast, but if you asked him to read to you again, he would do it in a heartbeat.
He took care of changing your bandages on the stomach. You had insisted on it and almost fought with the droids. You didn't know if it was because you trusted him, if it was because he was gentle or because you craved that bit of intimacy. Deep down, you knew which one it was.
You had grown tired of the medbay room. You deeply wished you could see something else than the small room walls but you still couldn't walk properly, and everybody told you you needed to stay in bed to recover faster. But that fantasy had been stuck in your head for a while now.
You had asked Poe to read you a book, but you weren't focused as the idea was growing more and more each second.
"Poe" you said interrupting his voice, making him look up from the book.
"What?" he asked. "Is there anything wrong?" You didn't reply and took the book from his hands, closing it before putting it on the table next to you. "Do you-"
"Get me out of here" you said cutting him off.
He frowned, confused. "What?" he chuckled.
"Can you get me out of here? Help me sneak out a bit. I can't stand this room anymore." you said almost pleading him.
"But it's almost bedtime sweetheart" Poe replied, his face dropping.
"Poe my leg is broken I'm not five." you said rolling your eyes. "Come on I haven't seen a briefing room in sooo long" you whined, tilting your head to the side to try to convince him.
"So the first thing you want to see if I help you get out of here is a briefing room?" he let out a stupid chuckle, amused at the idea that seemed pretty unadventurous to him as he saw the rooms every day.
Not allowing you to respond, he sighed and stood up from the chair besides your bed.
You sat up from the bed and gasped when you felt his left arm tugging behind your knees and his right arm supporting your back, carrying you bridal style. You smiled at the proximity and laced your arms around his neck, and Poe couldn't help but smile slightly at the intimate gesture. You nuzzled his chest, smelling his sweet and soothing scent while he carried you through the corridors. He entered the closest briefing room and made you sit on a desk.
"Thank you" you quietly said clearing your throat when his hands was on your either sides of your arms, making you shiver. He pulled away, nodded and pinched his lips in a smile before looking away awkwardly.
He looked around the room and you stared at him closely, your heart pounding in your chest. You swore it was beating so fast you could almost hear it.
He turned back to you and pointed behind him. "So that's what has been making you dream?"
"Poe come here" you whispered cutting him off, gesturing for him to come closer.
He frowned, confused, and walked to you.
He stood between your legs and you looked up at his face, smiling in adoration. You stared at his deep brown desperate eyes and finally made your mind. He needed to know.
You crossed your valid leg behind his legs and grabbed his hands.
"Poe look I-"
He sighed. "No. No no no you're not doing this" he said cutting you off, hurriedly shaking his head.
You frowned and your smile dropped.
He chuckled lightly and licked his lips in reflexion before looking away again.
"This is not how it was supposed to go" he muttered under his breath while you slowly let go of his hands, not so sure about what you were supposed to do anymore.
"Poe what do you mean?" you asked confused, feeling a lump forming in your throat. You didn't know if you could handle rejection from Poe.
The confusing expression on his face made you fully let go of his hands.
He shook his head once more and winced. The movement had made a few curls fall back onto his forehead, and if the situation hadn't been to tense you knew you would have brushed them away from his face.
"It wasn't supposed to go like this. I know what you're about to do and it wasn't supposed to go that way" he said finally looking back at you, his deep brown eyes piercing right through you.
"Well I'm sorry" you said sighing, your voice trembling when it was your turn to look away from him. You were on the verge of tears, realizing how wrong you were when you thought he could feel the same way.
Your head started spinning and you did your best to repress the tears threatening to come out of your eyes.
"I'm sorry Poe" you said jumping from the desk, standing on your valid leg. "I need to get out of here" you muttered under your breath, shaking your head, determined to go away without his help. Why would he want to help you anyway?
"What?" he panicked, stopping you by putting his hands over your shoulders. "No no no this is not what I meant!" he whisper shouted shaking his head. "Oh Maker I fucked up didn't I" he sighed, putting a hand to his forehead. You frowned, confused, and the lump in your throat changed into something different. "I've been meaning to tell you for so long. This is what I meant when I said it wasn't supposed to go that way" he said nodding.
The expression on your face softened, and you sat back on the desk.
"I wanted to tell you when I came back from my last flying mission. You know... When it all happened. Then it wasn't the right time anymore. But I've been aching to tell you since then and..." he grabbed your hands and fiddled with them nervously. "I'm the one who has to say it. I almost lost you and I was so scared and I can't stand the thought of us being apart. I want to stay by your side and take care of you forever. I just... I want to wake up next to you knowing that I'm the luckiest man in this galaxy." he said sighing, a beaten expression on his face. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you sooner, but I promise I meant to." he said looking at your hands, his thumbs caressing the back of them.
"Poe sweetheart..." you whispered letting one of your hands go to cup his cheek. "You scared me" you said laughing. "Never do that to me again." you said with a stern look, slightly smirking at him.
He nodded and gave you a weak smile. "I'm sorry" he said closing his eyes.
You framed his face with both of your hands, and his eyes fluttered back open. You pulled his face to yours so your lips could meet, and when it finally did, all the tension that had built earlier was now into this kiss. You were both so hungry for it but it was so sweet at the same time. You couldn't help but bring him closer between your thighs, craving his proximity as you had waited for this moment to happen for so long. Poe bit your bottom lip gently, and you quickly opened your mouth to allow him in. Your right hand shifted from his cheek to his hair, gently tugging on the dark curls, and you moaned in his mouth when his hands trailed up and down your waist, what pulled a slight smirk from his lips against yours.
You both pulled away for air, and he smiled the biggest smile you had ever seen from him.
"We should do that more often" he said smirking down at you, stroking your cheek.
"Way more often" you said smiling back at him, leaning into his touch.
He looked around the room then turned back to you. "I should bring you back to your room before anyone sees us here. Especially Leia" he said smiling lightly, placing his hand on your back. He wouldn't mind Leia coming in, he knew she would be happy to see you together, even if it involved you out of medbay.
Poe was all about taking risks, and he knew that one was the best risk he had ever taken.
---
reblogs and feedback are appreciated!!
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writingdumpster · 2 years
Text
worries
pairing: Poe Dameron x pregnant! reader
warnings: unprotected sex, p in v, mentions of canon level violence
word count: 3,000
summary: Poe doesn't return from a supply run on time, sending you down a spiral of worries about your newly forming family.
A/N: I haven't written for Star Wars before but Moon Knight had me in an Oscar Isaac chokehold so I watched Star Wars again and here we are. (I honestly don't know a lot of specific details for Star Wars lore, so apologies)
masterlist
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Poe climbed out of his X-Wing. He was meant to be home two days ago, but his ship had broken down and he had to fix it. With the ship broken he hadn’t been able to communicate with anyone either. Finn greeted him with a hug as Poe began walking towards the rest of the base. 
“Where have you been? Are you alright?” Finn asked. 
“I’m alright. My ship broke down. Took me a few days to repair it. The communicators broke too, and I don’t know how to fix those,” Poe explained. “You want to go grab a drink?” Poe asked. He wanted to relax after spending the last two days sweating in the gears of his ship. Finn shook his head. 
“You should go home. See y/n,” Finn suggested. 
“I will, but I don’t want to wake her at this time of night. She needs her rest,” Poe said. 
“I’d guess she isn’t asleep,” Finn replied. Poe raised an eyebrow. “She’s been going crazy not knowing where you’ve been. She spent the last two days sitting in the hangar waiting for you. I had to drag her back to your place yesterday to get her to go to sleep,” Finn told Poe. Poe’s heart sank. He hated to make you worry. He knew that it was pointless to tell you not to. He was a pilot fighting in a war. You were bound to worry, but he never wanted to make it harder on you. 
“Is she back in my quarters now?” Poe asked. Finn nodded. 
“Leia’s giving you the day off tomorrow to take care of her,” Finn added. Poe sighed. 
“That bad?” He asked. Finn nodded. 
“I’m sure she’ll tell you how worried she’s been, but we’ve all been worried about her too,” Finn said. Poe smiled at his friend’s kindness. He loved that his friends–his family really–were so fond of you.  
“Thanks, Finn,” Poe replied. He gave his friend one last hug before heading off to his quarters to find you. 
Finn was right. You weren’t asleep. You were curled up in a ball on Poe’s side of the bed, crying quietly as you held tightly onto his favorite sweater, the one you were always stealing from him because it smelled like him. You didn’t hear the main door slide open and you never had the bedroom door closed, so Poe got in without you noticing. Poe sighed softly when he saw you. He was glad to see you, as he always was, but he hated to see you like this, especially when it was his fault. 
“Hey, sweetheart,” Poe called. You sat up at once and nearly broke your neck turning to look at the door. 
“Poe!” You exclaimed. You began scrambling to get out of bed, but Poe was sitting on the edge of the bed next to you already. You threw your arms around him and buried your face in his neck. 
“I’m here, baby,” Poe whispered as you cried into his neck. He had his arms around you and was rubbing your back soothingly. 
“I thought you were dead!” You cried. 
“I know, baby. I know. I’m so sorry. My ship broke down. Nothing happened to me, I promise. I’m okay,” Poe replied. He pressed a kiss to the side of your head. Your sobs subsided after a few minutes of Poe whispering apologies and sweet nothings into your hair. You pulled away from his neck finally and Poe was able to get a good look at you. Your face was stained with tears and there were dark circles under your eyes from lack of sleep, but Poe still thought you looked beautiful. He kissed you, his lips soft and warm against yours.
“How’s my other girl doing?” Poe asked, reaching down to your stomach. You were just over four months pregnant, and your stomach had just begun to grow more round. Technically you shouldn’t have been living on base anymore but being Commander Dameron’s wife granted you some special treatment from General Organa. Leia knew how much you meant to Poe and she didn’t have the heart to make you leave. Poe loved you and he was her favorite commander. She remembered her life with Ben and Han before things had gone wrong. She wanted that for Poe. 
“She’s okay. She’s been keeping my appetite up,” you said as Poe rubbed your belly gently. He smiled. 
“Our daughter. Already taking care of her mother,” Poe said more to himself than you. You smiled, but Poe could see tears welling in your eyes. 
“What’s wrong?” He asked. 
“Nothing, just missed you,” you lied as you tried to blink away the tears. 
“Sweetheart, I know you,” Poe said. You looked down at your hands. Poe kicked his shoes off and shifted so that he could pull you into his lap. He reached up and pushed some hair from your eyes before running his fingers along your cheek. “Just tell me.” 
“I’m just scared, Poe,” you whispered. “What if you hadn’t come home this time? I don’t think I can take care of her alone.” You put your hand over your stomach. Poe leaned forward and kissed your forehead.
“Nothing is going to happen to me. I’m out there for her now, not just you. I know she’s going to need a father, and I promise she’ll have one,” Poe told you. 
“Poe, you don’t kn–” you started to protest, to tell him that he didn’t know he’d come back and that war was unpredictable, but Poe kept talking over you. 
“And, even if something does happen, I have arrangements made with Leia, Finn, and Rey already. They’ve promised to take care of the two of you for me if something happens.” 
“You asked the General of the Resistance to help look after your wife and daughter if you died?” You questioned incredulously. You knew Poe and Leia were close, but it seemed like a job that was beneath such an important woman. 
“Actually I just asked Rey. Finn was there when I asked her and he volunteered and then Leia found out and she got mad that I didn’t ask her first,” Poe said. You chuckled. Poe smiled softly, but his eyes were full of concern. 
“I’m always going to be here for you though, baby. I don’t fly the way I used to anymore. I have something more important than any war to come home to now,” Poe said as he ran his thumb along your cheekbone, taking your face in his hand. A small smile spread across your lips. He hadn’t told you that he had changed the way he was flying. You had seen him in action before and you knew he was a risk taker. It pleased you to think that he was trying to be more safe now. 
“I just don’t want to do this without you. And I don’t want her to never meet you. I want her to know you,” you said. A sad smile crossed Poe’s face. He had been perfectly safe the last two days. He had obviously missed you, but it had somehow escaped his mind that you might think he was in trouble. He had only been on a supply run, it hadn’t even crossed his mind that you would have been so distraught. He felt horrible that he hadn’t been there for you and that you had spent so long worrying.
“She’ll know me. And I’ll know her,” Poe assured you. Poe kissed you slowly, taking your jaw in his hand to tip your head back so he could deepen the kiss. He pulled away finally, but kept his forehead pressed to yours. He brushed his nose against yours and then whispered soothingly to you. 
“I’m gonna get in the refresher and then I’ll come back here and you can get some rest. Finn told me Leia’s giving me tomorrow off to spend with you, so we can sleep in,” Poe told you. 
“Did Leia really say that?” You asked. Poe smiled. You never seemed to understand just how much people cared for you. 
“Finn said she was worried about you,” Poe said. “He was too,” Poe said.
“He and Rey were spending a lot of time with me,” you said. “They came and sat with me in the hangar during all of their breaks.” The corner of Poe’s lips just barely tipped upwards. He was grateful for Rey and Finn. They were his family just as much as you were. “The whole base probably thinks I’m crazy,” you added.  
“I’m sure nobody thinks that. You’re my wife,” Poe said. “You’re supposed to worry about me. I just wish I didn’t make you worry quite so much.” You smiled softly at your husband’s sweetness. He was everything you needed, and now that he was back you finally felt at peace. You ran your fingers gently down Poe’s chest. He was still in his flight suit. You reached up and took the zipper in your hand and began pulling it down slowly. 
“Sweetheart,” Poe called. You hummed innocently in question as you leaned forward and began leaving open mouthed kisses to Poe’s neck. “We shouldn’t,” Poe said, though he couldn’t have sounded less convincing. 
“Please, Poe,” you whined against his neck. “I need to feel you close,” you told him. Poe sighed. He wanted you to rest, but he’d never been able to say no to you, and he could hear in your voice that you needed this, needed him.
“Straight to bed when we’re done,” Poe said. You didn’t respond as he pulled the flight suit off his torso. He ripped off the t-shirt he had beneath it before moving his arms to the hem of the shirt you were wearing–one of his, he noticed–and pulled it over your head. He threw you to the center of the bed and grabbed the waistband of your leggings, pulling them down with your underwear, leaving you completely bare. He stood at the end of the bed looking down at you like he’d never seen you before. 
“I’m always amazed by how beautiful you are, princess. You’re the most beautiful woman in the galaxy,” Poe murmured in admiration.
“Bet you say that to all the girls you’ve saved,” you joked. Poe smirked remembering the way you two had first met. You were being choked by a Storm Trooper when he plowed his ship into the dirt in front of you, jumped out of the cockpit and tackled the Storm Trooper in question. He had seen you around the base before. It was the early days of the Resistance and there weren’t many people on the base that Poe didn’t speak to, but he’d always been too nervous to talk to you. He was flying low in his X-Wing during the battle when he saw you being choked by the Storm Trooper. He abandoned his intended route to crash his ship into the ground next to you and save you. It had taken him weeks to repair all the damage on his beloved X-Wing, but it had all been worth it because while he was lying in the medbay begging for the doctors to give him permission to leave, you walked in to thank him for saving you and offered to make him dinner as a thank you when he had recovered. The rest, as they say, is history. 
“Only the ones that saved me too,” Poe replied. You grinned. 
“Come here,” you called, reaching your hands out. Poe undid his belt and pushed the pants of the flight suit down with his boxer briefs. He climbed up onto the bed, stopping above your cunt. He began to lean his mouth down to you, but you grabbed at him, trying to pull him up towards you. Poe looked up at you in question. “Not tonight, please. I just want to feel you,” you begged. Poe nodded and moved further up your body till he could press his lips against yours. He kissed you hungrily. He may not have been worried about your safety, but that didn’t mean he didn’t miss you. You felt his cock lying against your stomach, the weight of it against your body making you even more desperate. Poe didn’t seem to be in any rush despite his insistence that you should be sleeping. 
“Poe, please,” you whined. Poe chuckled against your skin as he left a small mark on your collar bone. 
“Always so needy,” Poe commented. Nevertheless he leaned away from you and moved to line himself up with your entrance. He ran the tip of his cock through your folds a few times, gathering your wetness before he slowly pushed into you, letting you feel every inch. You moaned as he filled you. You needed this. Needed to feel him so close that there was nothing between you. Needed to feel that he was still yours. Poe stopped moving once he’d gotten himself all the way in. He could feel your walls clenching around him, like they were trying to draw him in deeper and keep him from ever leaving again. You wiggled your hips up against his after a moment and he took it as a sign to start moving. His thrusts were slow and deep. He pulled out almost all the way each time before slowly pushing back into you. You threw your head back in pleasure as Poe hit your cervix. 
“You’re so fucking big, Poe. Make me feel so full,” you moaned. Poe leaned down and wrapped his lips around one of your nipples, sucking gently. You let out a loud moan immediately. Every part of you had been overly sensitive since you’d gotten pregnant, and Poe barely had to work anymore to have you screaming. Poe smirked with his lips around you. He bit down against your nipple lightly before easing the pain with a few licks. He leaned down and gave the same treatment to your other nipple before pulling away and pushing his lips against yours again. You threaded your fingers through his hair and pulled at his curls. Poe moaned in response. He grabbed one of your legs and pulled it up, you aided his actions, hooking it over his hip. The new angle drew loud moans from both of you. 
“That feel good, baby?” Poe asked, though he knew the answer. You nodded eagerly. 
“Don’t stop,” you gasped. Poe didn’t. He kept fucking you, switching up his rhythm so that he would draw you close to the edge before slowing down and prolonging your enjoyment. It was ecstasy. The pleasure was indescribable and you couldn’t get enough. 
“Poe, I’m gonna come,” you whimpered, digging your heel into Poe’s ass while he fucked you. 
“I know, baby, me too,” Poe grunted as he sped up his movements. You were a mess of moans and cries at that point. “Where do you want me to come, baby?” Poe asked. He liked to ask you. It didn’t really matter where you chose, he always found it sexy, but it turned him on when you told him where you wanted him. 
“Inside me, Poe. Want you to fill me up,” you mewled. Poe groaned at your words. He thrust into you harder, earning a gasp from you as his skin slapped against yours. 
“Gonna fill you up just like I did when I gave you our baby,” Poe groaned. He reached down with his right hand and found your clit with his thumb. He began rubbing quick circles against the swollen bud. You cried out in pleasure and hooked your other leg over Poe’s hip, pulling his body against yours and digging your nails into his shoulder blades. 
You both came at once. You screamed Poe’s name as he groaned yours. Poe’s seed poured into you as you clenched down onto him, pulling in every ounce of his cum. The pleasure ran through your bodies like a stampede. It was overwhelming and powerful and then suddenly it was over and the two of you were lying tangled together in your bed as you each took deep breaths. 
Eventually you rose from the mattress, the two of you using the refresher together before sliding back into your bed. You curled into Poe’s body at once. You refused to let him out of your sight the next day, so it was a good thing that Leia had offered him the day off. As the two of you were lying in bed that night Poe was gently running his fingers through your damp hair, undoing every tangle with delicate care. You were laying against his chest, your head tucked into his neck. One of your hands rested over his heart and Poe had reached his free hand up to tangle his fingers with yours. 
“What do you want to name her?” Poe asked suddenly. It had been quiet for a while, but Poe was always able to tell when you were awake. 
“I thought we could name her after your mom,” you replied without missing a beat, though your voice was tired and your eyes stayed closed. Poe smiled and leaned down to kiss the top of your head. 
“Mom would’ve loved that,” Poe replied. You hummed softly. 
“If the next one’s a boy I think we should name him after Finn,” you mumbled. Poe’s heart leapt. ‘The next one’ he thought. He knew you were exhausted and that you barely knew what you were saying, but nevertheless the idea of you already planning another child with him made him feel so lucky. You were his wife. You were giving him a daughter and you wanted to give him a son. Before he could let himself get too excited he raised your hand to his lips and kissed the back of your hand. 
“I love you, baby. Sleep well,” he murmured into your hair. You were already half asleep, but despite your exhaustion, you replied, almost as if your body couldn’t hear Poe telling you he loved you unless you whispered back: 
“I love you too.”
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guruan · 1 year
Note
Requesting a sketch for Poe Dameron bear-hugging an upset fem!reader ♥
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upset is a word that causes me problems because I often mis-interpret what it means LOL
And I only say this because I misread the first time, and I already had sketched something 😭 so anyway. a bonus I guess
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(even now I'm still wondering if the second time I read it is the correct one LMFAO)
This technically was a prompt outside my main fandoms, which I said I wasn't going to do, but it's an Oscar Isaac character so I cannot resist
Guruan's 1k followers celebration
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starryevermore · 1 year
Note
Since you were asking for Star Wars requests: How about our wonderful Poe with an insecure/shy, plus size (curvy) reader?? Please and thank you!
dress ✧ poe dameron
angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)
request: Since you were asking for Star Wars requests:  How about our wonderful Poe with an insecure/shy, plus size (curvy) reader??  Please and thank you! - anon
pairing: poe dameron x fem!reader
word count: 659
warnings?: mention of insecurities, mention of people being rude because of your weight, pet name (baby), not proofread
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“Hey, what’s the matter?” Poe asked. You didn’t have the energy to look at him, focusing on picking at your nails. “Do you not want to go out to dinner? Are you feeling sick?”
You bit down on your lip, then forced out a choked, “No.” You weren’t sure which question you were answering. 
You glanced up at the mirror, watching the reflection of Poe furrowing his brows. He took a step toward you, a hand outstretched. You flinched away. “I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong, baby.”
You squeezed your eyes shut, trying to will the tears not to fall. It was stupid, really. It shouldn’t have gotten you so worked up. But after everything…You thought you could at least get a pretty dress without much difficulty. “Nothing at the shops fit.”
With the First Order defeated and the Rebellion rebuilding, there had been a lot of celebrations. You and Poe had skipped out on all of them, focusing your efforts on establishing a more effective, less tyrannical government. But, finally, finally, you and Poe agreed to attend a gala, and you had been so excited. You wanted to get dressed up, wear a pretty dress, do your hair and makeup, and look every bit as gorgeous as you always feel. But, it all came crashing down. Nothing you tried on fit you right, and every time you inquired about getting something custom, the shopkeepers all but outright mocked you, treating you as if you were lesser than, like you couldn’t afford something nice, like you wouldn’t even look good if you could afford something now. 
And, Maker, that made you feel things you hadn’t felt since you were a teenager. All your life growing up, people made fun of you for your weight. They laughed at you, called you names, made you feel like bantha shit. It took so much work for you to shed those insecurities, to learn that you were beautiful inside and out no matter how you looked. And then when you joined the Rebellion, none of that really mattered. As long as you were contributing to the cause, people didn’t care about how you looked. But on Coruscant…It was all different. 
“Well, we could order something custom, right? They can take your measurements—”
“I don’t want them to take my measurements!” you snapped. “I already asked, and the way they balked at me…Maker, you’d think I asked them if I could burn down the shop or something. I don’t…I’m not going to the gala.”
Poe touched your waist, nudging you to turn around. When you did, he reached up, cupped your face in his hands. You opened your eyes, a tear slipping out as you looked at him. “We don’t have to go if you don’t want to. But…What those nerf-herders think doesn’t matter. Okay? You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen. And if they can’t see that…That’s their loss. We can stay home, or I can ask around, find maybe a small business who’ll make you the dress of your dreams, and you can have some well deserved fun.”
You sniffed, nuzzling your face into his hands. “That…doesn’t sound like the worst idea.”
“Alright. We can take the day off tomorrow and look around.” Poe leaned in, kissing the tip of your nose. “Now, do you still wanna go out to dinner? Or would you rather stay in and I whip something up?”
“Well, I do know something about a saying where you’re supposed to kiss the chef,” you teased. 
“Oh, then I’m definitely whipping something up,” Poe said. “Can’t let anyone steal my girl’s kisses.”
You smiled, laughing. “I love you, you know.”
“I love you, too, baby. Now, let’s get dinner cookin’, yeah? Because I heard something about a real sweet dessert.”
You laughed louder as Poe wiggled his eyebrows at you. “Oh, go to the kitchen, you perv.”
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groguspicklejar · 10 months
Note
i humbly request a spicy 2 with Undoing!Poe please
2. things you said through your teeth (mini fic prompts)
Warnings: +18 Smut, dry humping, brief mentions of body image issues, mentions of piv, mentions of oral (f!receiving), best friends to lovers.
A/N: Surprise! this was a lot more than I thought it would become but meh
Takes places a few hours after Part 3
Dream Fuel
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“We're going to—" your sudden whine only encouraged him to grind harder against you. “—be l—late.”
Your flight was in five hours. You need to be at the airport in four. And Poe promised he'll be done with you in three.
But you know him. He's stalling. Buying more time. He's had a taste of you and he got hooked.
“Poe—” Fuck, he likes the way you moan his name. Even with his boxers and your panties in the way, it doesn't stop him from rocking his hard shaft against your core. “Poe, I—I need—”
He knows that you want to get ready to leave for the airport, but he can't let you. Not yet. He wants to watch you fall apart one last time. Maybe a few more times.
That's why he's got your hands pinned above your head as he slowly grinds against your clit. If only to keep his hands occupied too, because he knows if they weren't, they would be working his boxers down his hips and pulling your panties to the side to get what he really wants.
But he can't fuck you the way he wants to right now. You're both in a hurry. If he's going to make you cum on his cock, he wants to take his time.
Right now, though, he looks you in the eye as you whimper under him. You're so wrecked, eyes glossy and weak. Lip trapped between your teeth as you try to hold back the sweet noises he draws from you.
He can't, for the life of him, figure out why you still do that. He wants to hear you. Wants to listen to you fall apart. The enticing sounds you make are almost enough to tip him over the edge like last time.
He can still taste you on his tongue.
You're both still clothed. Both in t-shirt and underwear. Too many clothes. But Poe knows you're not ready to shed the layers. Years of having parents like yours, he guesses, would do that to a person.
He glares at the fabric covering your breasts, silently cursing your mother for poisoning you into thinking you're anything less than perfect. But you've gone further than ever since the first time he's touched you, when you could barely stand to even open your legs for him.
He doesn't want to think about how you may have been wronged by other guys. How they couldn't have treated you the way you deserved. What they could've said to you to make you feel insecure.
It doesn't matter now. He'll give you everything and more. So much more, if you'll let him. He intends to erase all the bad emotions associated with sex and replace it all with him.
It's selfish, he knows, but he can't help it. He wants you to think of him every day like he's thought of you for the better half of his life. He wants you to crave him as much as he craves you. He wants you to think of sex and feel excited, feel a bit of longing.
He wants you to love him. Please love him—
“Tell me what you want, baby, and it's all yours.” He can barely hold back the weakness in his own voice.
You try to move your hands, but he only tightens his grip. It makes him smile as he bites his lip, still as he keeps rocking, going harder.
“Make me—” you grit out through clenched teeth, a moan struggling to escape from your lips, eyes rolling. “m—make me cum—”
Anything, baby. It's all yours. I'm all yours, he wants to say.
Your plea does not go unheard. The faster he goes, the more friction. He wishes he could put his mouth on your breasts, but settles for your neck instead.
The fabric straining against his cock is wet. Your pussy drenched through everything and he's glad for it. He wants to feel your hands in his hair again, but he doesn't trust himself not to let his hands wander, not to let his hands take off your panties.
“Dammit, I want to fuck you so bad...” he groaned into your skin and to his surprise, that is what triggers your orgasm.
He feels you tremble under him and a sharp gasp breaks from your lips. For a few moments, you couldn't breathe. Poe lifts his head and observes the pleasure overriding your system with keen interest, grinning widely.
You're so pretty. So so fucking gorgeous. He can't believe you actually let him touch you like this. This is the stuff of his dreams. He can't remember how many times he imagined this in his head and now—
God, now it's actually happening.
Your eyes flutter shut and your body sags into the bed. Fuck, if he wants to make you cum again, but he decides to be merciful this time.
You both have a plane to catch.
Poe kisses your neck, trailing up your shoulder, relishing your presence for a few precious seconds. Your heart pulses under his lips. The steady beat of your life. So precious, so powerful. It was everything to him.
You are everything to him.
Yet, much to his shock, as soon as his grip on your hands loosens, you flip him onto his back and get on top of him.
“Your turn.” You seal your lips over his mouth, tangling your fingers through his hair. “And then straight to the shower.”
He likes the idea of that, but you're way ahead of him, and pant into his mouth. “Seperately.”
Fuck.
He was hoping to have you one last time before having to sit through more than twenty-five hours in a plane with his rampant thoughts.
Your hand grasps his hard cock through his pants and he chokes as your tongue clicks into his mouth. This is probably going to be the fastest he's ever cum and you might not let him live it down.
“I can work with that.” he murmurs against your lips, smiling.
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stormkobra-5 · 2 years
Note
my dear sweet em ✨
may i ask for our space hubby poe and #7 “our muses shower together after something traumatic for comfort and emotional intimacy, bonus points if they aren’t even together romantically yet.”
please and thank youuu :) 💖
Hello hello Callie— I may have gotten a bit carried away with this one but it was so fun to write!
Prompt: 7) our muses shower together after something traumatic for comfort and emotional intimacy, bonus points if they aren’t even together romantically yet + Poe Dameron
Rating/Warnings: 18+ mention of traumatic event, dealing with trauma, love confession, best friends-to-lovers, fear of loss, Poe crying and scared is a warning, bombs/bombing, being trapped under rubble, non-sexual nudity, co-showering, hurt/comfort
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They were everywhere.
The explosions. They’d rattled whole buildings and shook them to the earth just feet away from where you and Poe ran for your lives, trying to escape unscathed. It was supposed to have just been a recon mission. That was it. But when the warning sirens went off, the whole city had momentarily gone silent to turn and see the First Order bombers swooping low on the horizon for a strafing run.
It was a chilling moment that would live fresh in your mind for the rest of your life.
Your ship was all the way on the other side of the city. There was no way you’d ever make it in time. But still, Poe took one of your wrists tightly in his hand, tight enough to bruise, and ran.
You hadn’t gotten three blocks when they started dropping ordinance. Plaster and brick and bits of sandstone flew everywhere, coating you both in a fine dust pockmarked with dark bruises from flying debris. The whole world shook around you. Poe managed to find an underground club, pulling you after him in the hopes that it might be safer than the city the First Order was leveling above you.
Inside, a few other people had taken shelter, fear in their eyes. But what frightened you most was Poe, as he shoved you underneath a table and crawled in after you, wrapping his arms around you so tightly that you could hardly breathe.
You’d never, never in your life, not even when he’s facing an entire fleet of TIEs, see Poe Dameron look so scared.
As the building trembled, he tightened his hold on you, like he was afraid you’d be ripped away from him. In truth, your arms were wrapped around his middle and neck just as tightly. You were both shaking, fisting each other’s clothes and burying your faces in each other as you prayed to survive.
“It’s okay. I’ve got you. I’ve got you.” Poe was talking, you were crying. But so was he. His tears soaked your jacket as he clung to you and tried to keep his breathing even. “I’ve got you, babygirl—“
A particularly close drop had the club lights going out. The ceiling cracked. Debris and dust rained down and you both yelped as those seeking shelter alongside you screamed in terror in the pitch black darkness. “Shit— nononononono, please—“
Poe was scared.
And that was what scared you.
“Poe—“ You whimpered against him, both of you flinching as you heard the strafing continue in the eerie silence of the pitch dark club-turned-bomb shelter. “I love you, I love you—“ If you didn’t say it now, you might never say it. All these years of fighting alongside your best friend in the galaxy, and you’d fallen so helplessly in love with him that you can hardly breathe when he’s away. And if here is where you’re going to die… you want him to know. Even if he doesn’t love you back.
But you feel him smile against you through his terrified sobs. “I love you too, stardust. T-tell me again why we’re confessing here of all places?”
There he is. Your smart-ass Poe Dameron.
You can’t see. But you can feel. He twists a bit so that he can kiss your temple before pressing his forehead to yours. “At least we’re together,” You hiccup through your tears.
“Yeah. There’s that.”
It was a blur when the ceiling collapsed, trapping you for Maker-knows-how-long in thick blackness. The heat was suffocating. The air was clogged with dust and it was hard to breathe. You were both sweating buckets, thirsty, tired, and hungry. Waiting. You weren’t sure for what.
Neither of you expected rescue.
Shellshocked, you think the medics said aboard the transport. Maybe you were. You wouldn’t let go of each other, staring silently ahead into nothing as your minds tortured you with a replay of darkness and bombs and screams and fear, where you’d experienced helplessness at its most terrifying form.
Once you were back on base, you were led to the medbay. Tears came without any regard for who was around you, and Poe actually punched a medic that tried to separate him from you. They checked you for serious injuries; told you about the survivors. About how the Resistance had fought off the attackers and the city wasn’t completely leveled.
After the medbay, it was time for you to mindlessly devour trays of stale food in the middle of the empty mess hall at midnight, neither of you caring much that it was just daily portions that tasted awful on a regular day— but now they tasted like sweet ambrosia. Neither of you had to say it: we’re lucky that we’re alive to eat at all.
Back in your shared quarters, Poe sat on the lower bunk, dark eyes distant as he relived the moment over. And over. And over. You knew, because it was happening to you, too. “Why don’t you go first?” Poe forced out, dragging his eyes from the floor to your face. He was implying the fresher, because you were covered in the remains of a ruined city. So was he. His tawny skin and deep brown hair were both stained gray like his clothes, a statue come to life. It wrinkled and cracked where his forehead and brows moved, dried tear tracks trailing down his cheeks. You’re sure that you looked much the same.
You shifted awkwardly on your feet. “I-I don’t wanna go in there alone.” Maybe it was stupid. It was just a fresher, after all.
Poe nodded, in understanding. “I don’t wanna be out here alone, either.”
There were a few moments of hesitation before he was standing and guiding you into the little room, keeping the door open. He pulled the shower curtain off that offered coverage so that you could see the whole room, handing it to Beebs, who hadn’t left his side since you’d gotten back. He beeped softly, as if scared that if he did it too loud he might scare you. The action made Poe smile softly. “You’re gonna tell us if somebody comes in? Thanks, buddy.” He knelt down to hug his droid, even kiss the top of his orange-and-white dome head, before letting him roll quietly away.
When Poe stood, he took you into his arms gently, like you might break right in half if he wasn’t careful. “This okay?” You could only nod; you were crying again, without even meaning to. So was he. He started the fresher, turning it on a setting that would be comfortable for both of you, and then turned to help you peel off your ruined clothes. You did the same for him, pushing off his jacket and lifting his shirt carefully over his head.
Ash and stone dust fell on the tiled surface of the bathroom, staining it with the aftermath of your harrowing experience. You didn’t even blush as he unclipped your bra and tossed it aside; his eyes didn’t linger on your breasts. They were glistening with tears and locked on yours as he undid your belt.
When you were both undressed completely, you stepped into the fresher. Poe surprised you when he grabbed the showerhead and sprayed the bathroom down, washing away the soot that had fallen from your clothes and bodies. When he replaced it, you scrubbed each other down. You scrubbed any trace of dust away, careful of bruises, until skin was red and freshly-washed hair had nearly been rugged out of your scalps.
Neither of you made a move to leave the shower after you were finally clean.
“Y/N…” Poe’s voice was hardly a whisper. “I know we’re both… uh… but… can I…” He gestured helplessly, unsure of how to word his question. “Can I hold you? Please? I just want to be close to you…”
“Poe…” You choked back a sob and threw your arms around his neck. He immediately relaxed, sighing with relief as his hand tangled in your hair to pull you against him, pressing you flush against his chest so that you could feel his heartbeat, and so that he could feel yours.
“We’re alive,” He whimpered softly, squeezing you for emphasis. “We’re alive. We made it. It’s okay now.”
You held on to him, shaking like a leaf as you cried softly. “You… you were so scared. And you’re not afraid of anything. I thought… I thought if you were scared…”
“I wasn’t afraid of dying,” He breathed, trying to speak through his tears, “I was scared of you dying. I didn’t… I don’t know what I’d…” He couldn’t talk anymore. His voice, having slowly been crushed by his tears, descended into gasping sobs into your neck as he held you, and you held him, trying to give him what little comfort you could offer when you were just as shaken as he was.
It felt like hours before either of you could stop. The water had long since turned cold, but neither of you cared much. He traced meaningless patterns on your back, resting his chin on your shoulder. You’d buried your face in the crook of his shoulder and neck, holding onto him like a lifeline.
Poe lifted his head, turning it to press a kiss to your cheek once, twice, then closer to your mouth; realizing what he was asking for, you turned to reciprocate, and he captured your mouth in a deep, passionate kiss that left you both breathless. When he finally pulled back, he kept his forehead pressed to yours, eyes locked with your teary gaze and letting out a relieved sigh. “...We’re alive.”
You’re alive, ready to fight another day.
Except now, you have Poe Dameron at your side and his mother’s ring on your neck.
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Give me a prompt and a character!
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foxilayde · 2 years
Note
I have a feeling Poe loves having his ear lobes sucked and nibbled on.
Ten, Eleven, Twelve [Poe Dameron x Fem!Reader]
Word Count: 4.2k
Warnings: 18+ ONLY. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. Explicit.
Summary: You hooked up with Poe last night and now you're late to your 10am call time... but you've got time for a few more rounds, right?
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You don't wake up with a harsh alarm like most mornings, jolted into consciousness with aggressive buzzing and beeping... no this morning, on this glorious morning, you are roused gradually awake by something like a combination of sunlight through your bunk window and Poe's body heat, working together to warm your internal temperature just slightly too high for your body to comfortably sleep through. 
But you don't move. Because Poe is exactly as you saw him last, laying naked, on you and in you- his face tucked lovingly in the crook of your neck. You strain your eyes to get a hint of his sleeping frown. It's not a dissatisfied look he wears, it’s just... relaxed. He looks ten years younger like this, his usual furrowed smoldering brow is smooth and you hope a good dream is playing somewhere in his pretty head. You would turn your head to see more of his pouting slack face but you don't want to wake him. 
He's breathing so deeply, so slowly. At the top of each inhale, air catches somewhere in his lovely nose, making the faintest most endearing tiny snore. He's got his arms wrapped up under yours, hands cradling the back of your head under your pillow. You smile to yourself, this is how he usually sleeps by himself in the bottom bunk. On his stomach, arms under his pillow. His stomach expands with each slow breath, pushing into your abdomen, and despite how heavy he is and how warm the morning is getting... despite the ache in your inner thighs at being spread open for an ungodly measure of time, you've never felt more comfortable. 
You almost will yourself to fall back asleep.... But the light from your window is blaring on your eyes too vibrantly through your closed lids, and then it hits you- your knifing 10am call time. Judging by the light, that ship has sailed and you're a little miffed as to why no one bothered to come get the two of you. You grumble and shift slightly, now feeling the ache in your arms, in your neck... all over. Maker you haven't been this sore since you were a recruit going through primary training. 
You should get up. You really really should. But... ugh, Maker look at him. He's so tired and he took such astounding care of you last night. And all his sleepy self is doing is using your body like a pillow. If no one has come for you, couldn't you just lie here? Would that really be so bad? 
Everyone was celebrating last night, maybe the entire base decided to have a lazy hangover day... unlikely. But hey, weirder things have happened on this base.
 Fuck the bright light and the kriffing call time, you’re going back to sleep and meeting Poe on the other side of your respective dreams. You’re scrunching your eyes against the light when he "mmmmm"s into your neck and points his toes in a stretch, the action arches his hips into yours where Maker... he's hard in you. How did you not feel that as soon as you woke up? (the ten orgasms might have something to do with that- your latent nerves taking a fucking vacation after all that attention.)
Poe’s embrace tightens on you and he plants a warm sleepy kiss on your neck. His stubble tickles and you squirm a bit, dragging your nails up and down his wide warm back. Maker, did you actually DIE yesterday in battle and go to heaven? 
"Morning, Ten." He bites your neck affectionately. 
"Oh is that right? Morning, Hoe. I mean, Poe." 
"Mmmm, Don't make me tickle you again." His voice is deep and rough and he demonstrates just how serious he is by moving his prickly chin back and forth on the softest part of your neck. 
You whine and attempt to push his head and tickling chin away from you, but, Maker, you have zero strength this morning, the muscles in your forearms are protesting your escape attempt. Are your arms sore from gripping the bedsheets all night? Maker, you're going to be useless today.
He presses his hips more presently into yours and your hips rise to chase the sensation at the same time your head is trying to turn away from his hot tickling breath and whatever-the-fuck-o-clock shadow he's got growing on his stupidly handsome face. 
"Did I really sleep in you all night, pretty girl?" He's not trying to tickle you anymore, his hips are moving as lazy as the day and his teasing has given way to hot breaths and licking bites on your neck. Much more pleasant. 
You're still so sore, but he feels divine, and in a way the slow rubbing of his cock inside you feels like a massage to your overused pussy. 
"Maker Dameron," you mmmm and squeeze his plump butt flexing under your fingers as he slowly fucks into you. 
"You always this horny in the mornings?"
"mmmhmmm," His teeth scrape along your clavicle, "why do you think I make you go and get caf for me first thing?"
"What?!" 
Poe chuckles into your neck before rolling his hips in a particularly deep fashion. Fuck. 
"You heard me." 
"Are you saying you-"
"Yes, Nine."
"Not every morning?"
He kisses your cheek before putting his forehead on yours, he gently removes his hands from under the pillow and plants them on either side of your head and just nods against your forehead. Maker, those eyes. Beautiful in the sparkling darkness, warm and loving in the midday light.
“Every morning since you moved in.” He punctuates his words with the rolling of his hips, his smile growing wider as the sentence grows longer. 
You moan at the uptick in pace.
 "Fuck! That's mmmm, that's why you're so happy when I come back with the caf."
"Mmmhmmm" He kisses your parted panting mouth. Maker his lips are so warm. "That, and getting to see your pretty face." He nuzzles his nose against yours and grinds up into you with a deep moan. "Fuck, baby. You'e so wet. Didn't let a bit drip out of you, did I?"
You whine under him as he crushes his lips on yours again. He's not wrong. You can hear how sloppy you are, his demanding hardness gliding easily through the hot molten center of you. 
"You gunna come for me again, sweetheart? Hmm?" He's not mocking or goading, his face is earnest and raw and still retains the unbothered brow of his resting expression. Fuck, you love him. 
"One condition."
"Anything, baby." he whispers against your lips, hips scooting deeply into you at the most perfect pace as your cunt clenches as best it can with the wrung out feeling you still have in every part of your body. 
"mmmm, Poe uhhhhh, y-You're doing the caf runs from now on."
"Deal, baby, deal." 
Maker you could've probably bargained anything in that moment and he would have said yes. True to your side of the agreement you bear down on him, your torso shooting up the small distance between you, clinging to every bare piece of him you can reach when you clench and cum on him. Fucking eleven. 
Poe’s forehead is on yours again. Eyes clamped shut as he shakes and moans, flexing and spilling inside your already overfilled cunt.
“Oh shit, baby. Ohhh, fuck.”
Theres a sheen of sweat on his prickly upper lip that you taste when he presses his panting lips to yours.
He sinks back onto you, pinning you once again under his comforting weight. Breaths slowing as you kiss his musky, curly scalp. 
“Fuck. We gotta open a window or something.” He laughs and blows a cool stream of air onto your sweaty chest.
“That’s nice. Why don’t you do that— open the window? And get us some caf while you’re up.”
“Mmmm, five more minutes.” He’s back to slumping on you and  kissing your neck lazily.
As much as you love this, this new thrilling intimacy, you need water and a shower and caf. Desperately need caf.  Poe knows how much you need it, you’re sure, but he’s playing with your hair and kissing your shoulder…. maker, is he eversatiated?
“Poe, you gotta get up. Please. And find out what happened to our call time.”
Poe's head shoots up out of its lazy position and he looks to the window and back to you with confusion. 
“Its gotta be past midday.”
“Exactly!” You pat his shoulders, “Go. Go see what’s up.”
“Mmmm, but you’re so soft and you feel so good, baby. 5 more minutes. “ He sinks back into you again, resuming his hot lazy attentions to your neck.
“Poe!” You lift your neck slightly, he’s kissing your clavicle and soothing the tops of your arms with his fingertips. He’s making a very compelling argument for staying just where you are, 5-minutes after 5-minutes, and then some. But you really do have to get going. This isn’t your kriffing honeymoon, it’s a war. And being that it is a war, and that Dameron likes to play… you close your teeth gently around the cute little lobe of his frankly adorable ear and give it a soft tug, letting the soft skin slide through your teeth— like a playful puppy. Nothing mean. 
Poe mmmmm’s into your neck. “Keep doing that, baby.”
Oh yeah?
You hesitate for a second, and you feel him grow harder once more. Then you lick his ear with a breath of hot air and take the lowest softest portion of it between your teeth and tug again.
“Ohhh, shit, honey.”
He’s not kissing your neck any longer, just breathing heavily as you nibble on his ear. Damn him. Is every morning going to be like this? Missing call times? Never extracting yourselves from each other. Maker, he’s still inside of you which means you’ve been fully one entity for half a fucking day-cycle… you’re not mad at it. Not at all. Not after all the time you’ve spent only nearly together— separated by bunks and clothes and your silly little fears. 
His ear is a surprisingly pleasant sensation in your mouth too, and you can’t help but moan and lick at it. He does have cute fucking ears. Maker, everything about him is cute, if you had your way you’d lick and bite every inch of him, no matter the call time. 
“Yeah, keep doing that, baby. Fuck. I’m getting hard again.”
“Poe…” you breathe his name into his ear and he, yep, he’s hard again, and rutting into you… again. He lifts the backs of your knees up with his forearms and guides your shins to lock behind him. Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck, the position this opens you up to, Maker… he’s in deep. He uses his hands behind his back to lock your ankles together because, shit, you’re for sure not able to navigate your own kriffing body right now. And thank the stars that he does, because you have no god damn strength to hug his hips with your thighs or even prop your legs up right now. This way you can still be limp while he rocks into you, in his signature deep style— no hammering, hardly thrusting, just fucking rocking into you, rubbing and pushing perfectly into everything. You can fucking feel how swollen you are down there, how insanely hot and slippery everything has become, the combined spend of your amassed activity is leaking down your crack and pooling underneath your hips. Thin blanket bunched behind you and impossibly wet. Fuck, you wouldn’t be surprised if it was all leaking out the bottom of your mattress and dripping on Poe’s bed at this point. Everything, absolutely everything from your hair to the sheets, to your palm on the damned metal rail you’re gripping on, is damp to downright soaked. 
The combined sunlight and your hot bodies and breaths is creating the warmest fucking slick between your abdomens and Poe is just perfectly sliding up and into you in sensational deep strokes. He licks into your shaking mouth, and that same feeling you had last night about not knowing where you ended and he begain— well it’s back. His hand on your hip rubbing loving circles with his thumb, might as well be your own. His tongue writhes hot and strong with yours and, fuck , everything is so fucking slippery. You’re completely in camp Fuck The Calltime when he shifts his thighs closer and sinks even fucking further into the throbbing core of you. 
Maker, your internal temperature can’t possibly be sustainable, but your body doesn’t even call out for a cool drink of water like it calls out for more of his heat. You need him, you need him, you need him just like this.
“Fuuuck,” your moan is weak and low, a lament and a joy. Your pussy is sucking him in. Shit, you’re so swollen and sensitive right now you swear you can feel every vein of him, can clock the nearly imperceptible way his cock gets slightly harder inside of you as he approaches his end. Maker can you even call it an “end” when it never fucking ends? He’s just going to keep doing this, rocking into your open wetness, you’re certain. He’s just going to keep going forever, keep you attached together and fuck you till all the fucking fluid leaves your body. Bastard. The thought only makes you hold him tighter. Fuck, he’s sliding on you and in you— so so so good. Maker, you bite his ear again when you cum. He groans low and pushes as deep as he can, pulsing in you, shaking and sweating. Fuck, his abdomen is nearly vibrating with the shakes of it as your pulsing cunt squeezes the cum out of him. Your breath is even hotter than it was a few minutes ago and you’re not sure how that’s possible, but you know it is because you’re breathing into Poe’s ear, his lobe let-free from your bite and the breath stays in front of your face, making you hotter and hotter. You might pass out from heat, and still your body, slut that she is, tilts your hips up by a nearly negligible degree, unwilling to have a single bit of space between you and Poe. 
“Oh fuck… what are you doing to me, Dameron.”
Poe kisses your nose, “You mean besides making a total mess of your hair?” He grins at you and rubs his nose against yours, breathing heavy, slick abdomen huffing against yours. He rubs your noses together some more before notching it next to yours and gently kissing you with his sweet lips….and you can fucking tell he’s about to go boneless again on you and ask for another “5 more minutes” before “getting up”. Psssh. If by getting up he means “achieving an erection”, then yeah. A solid 5 minutes is apparently all he needs before he’ll be hard again, and fucking you into the mattress (waterbed) again. Maker, maybe that conversation you heard in the bathroom was meant as a cautionary tale. A fucking ghost story. “Don’t sleep with Commander Hot Ass, he’ll fuck you until you die of dehydration. On some nights around base, some say you can still hear the moaning wails of the women he’s boned to death.”
“Poe. Please. Please get up and get me some water. I feel like I’m about to die.”
Poe pushes up from you and groans when he slips out of you. Maker, what a weird fucking feeling to be empty after all that. He hops down from the bunk with surprising spryness for a man who just nearly fucking killed you with his dick. 
“And open the window. Please. Our funk is probably leaking into the kriffing hallway.” You slide your palms down your torso and stars it feels like you just stepped out of the river with how soaked you are.
Poe laughs and hands you your water bottle.
“You think that’s why no one got us for call time? Because they knew we were busy?”
 He kisses your forearm before going over to open the window and— oh kriffing hell.
Poe pantsless. Ass on display. Maker bless the galaxy on this glorious day. You’re about to take a sip from your bottle when the sight of his perfect rear-end stops you in your tracks. He slides the window open and the relief is immediate. Fuck. Fresh air. Poe extends his palm to the top of the sill and leans, staring out at the bright day. The view is one of the nicer one’s on base. Some foliage and even a little edge of the river in the background if you look from the right angle. There’s a little walking path nearby but it’s not rec time, so Poe just stands at the window, dick out to the fucking world, ass to you. Maker bless him. You sip on your water and take in the view. Heaven, absolutely. Poe fucked you till you died and now you’re in heaven. 
You hardly even registered what he’d just said, your mind lagging understandably at the sight of Poe in all his naked glory. 
“Oh, I really kriffing hope not.”
“Ashamed, Eleven? Or should I say, Twelve?” Poe turns his head and winks and you, the cocky bastard. You look around your cot for Bigsby, the attack reptile (plushie), to throw at him, but he’s all the way down on the bottom bunk and so you settle for rolling your eyes at Poe instead. You scoot up further on the bed, goo spilling out of your pussy in a tepid trickle. 
“I’m not ashamed. Not at all.” You smile genuinely at him and your heart feels like it’s glowing in your chest when he turns to face you. He’s naked and you’re naked and you’ve never been this naked for this long with anyone before. And somehow you aren’t self conscious. Not even a little. You make no move to cover yourself with the damp sheet as Poe’s eyes softly rake up your body. You turn then, and let your feet dangle off the side of the bunk, letting him see all of you, swinging your toes contentedly, and taking another pull of water. You smack your lips and sigh and hand the bottle to Poe. Who must be fucking thirsty…. although he did drink quite a bit from you last night, so maybe not. 
Poe takes the bottle from you and kisses your hand. Then your knees and dangling legs. Maker is he already ready for more?
“Poe… you know what I want?” You say with a teasing seduction, wiggling your toes as he bends to kiss the tops of your feet. He still hasn’t taken a sip of water when he replies.
“Oh yeah baby, I know what you want.” He trails his fingers up and down the backs of your calves.
“Mmmm? What do I want, flyboy?”
He drags his lips up your leg, tossing the water bottle onto his bed. And he kisses you, again… as if you could get enough. And you’re sure he’s going to tease you and tell you “You want lucky thirteen” but he surprises you when he breaks the kiss and nudges his nose against yours.
“You want caf. A tall cup of it. With a splash of sarlacc cream and one scoop of yyeger.” His eyes are crinkled with a smile and stars, he looks so handsome just wearing a smile, it’s fucking absurd.
“And..?” You hint.
“Jogan fruitcake if they have it.” Not exactly what you had in mind, but you do love Jogan fruitcake. 
“And?” You continue, placing a kiss on his stubbly jaw.
“And…. Vakiir eggs? Scrambled?” He’s thinking about food. He must be hungry. You laugh against his neck.
“No.”
“What do you want?” He smooths your hair out of your face with his warm palms. 
“To find out….” You lead.
 “Call time! Yes. On my way.”
 Poe snaps his fingers and gives you a quick peck on the lips before he steps off his bunk and starts getting dressed in his clothes from last night. It’s just as well, neither of you should put on clean clothing. You’re filthy.
Before he’s out the door, fully dressed, he steps back onto his bunk and gives you a real kiss. You almost, you nearly fucking almost invite him back up for one more round. But he breaks the kiss with an “I love you.”  And yeah you know you’re silly stupid in love, but how can you kriffing not be? You grab him by the cheeks and plant a good one on him before telling him you love him too and, “I’ll love you even more with a caf in my hand, Dameron.”
He finally manages to leave and— maker, should you even be drinking caf at this time of day? You’ll be up all night if you do, it’s that kriffing late in the day. Up all night. Stars. The thought brings a smile to your face this time. It doesn’t mortify you with implication like it did only yesterday. 
You take the linens from your bed and put them in the hamper. You’ll have to do laundry today. Not a problem since it seems like you’re completely off for the day. Or maybe you won't do laundry today. You wont need to if you sleep in the bottom bunk with Poe. Wrapped up in his arms and in the smell of his sheets. You'll probably have to rethink the bunkbed situation soon. As cozy as you love to be with Poe, it'd be a lot more practical to have a real adult couple bed. Maker, does he want to do that? Is that too fast? And then you laugh to yourself thinking 'it was too fast' when it took a fucking year to happen. 
You’re showered and mostly dressed when Poe gets back with your tall cup of caf and your slice of Jogan cake. You take a sip and it’s perfect. Exactly how you make it yourself. Maybe even a little better, a tad sweeter. You give him a kiss and a thanks… you could get used to this. The thought makes your mouth too stretched out in a smile to properly kiss, and Poe eagerly tells you he discovered the mystery behind the call time.
Apparently Jess came to your bunk to check on you after she got back from the Cantina and heard… well. Something. You’re not sure what she heard. You doubt she told Poe, but the two of you made a lot of sounds last night, so the list of what it could have been is a long one. 
You chew on your cake and sip your caf while Poe tells you all about how happy Jess is for you two and how she “knew it all along”. Sure. You shake your head fondly.
“Oh, that brings me to the call time— It was Jess! She got us out of it, figured we would want some 'time together'. ‘New couple stuff’ were her exact words.”
Couple. You and Poe. You nearly choke on a piece of jogan fruit.
“You don’t want to be a couple?” Poe's eyes are heartbreaking behind a casual façade. He picks at his thumb and walks over to the window, assuming the same stance as this morning. Or afternoon. You’re still not sure of the time. “That’s fine by the way, if you just wanted it to be a hookup, I— I get that.” He’s staring intently at the sliver of river and a nice breeze ruffles his sexed-up hair. He still needs a shower, forgoing it to get you caf and answers at your request. He tries to look relaxed, as if he’s just enjoying the breeze. He’s unaware of the way his shoulders flex defensively, in a dead-giveaway. 
How? How can he possibly be self conscious? How can he possibly think that you don’t want to be with him? And last night, how could he ever think you’d be put off by him, or whatever the hell weird conclusions he came to… Maker. The most perfect friend, the most perfect teammate, and the most perfect (as it turns out) lover. And he’s self-conscious because he thinks that you don’t want to be a couple?
“Of course I want to be a couple.” You step right next to him, taking his hand in yours. “I wanna be the most obnoxiously couple-y couple that ever coupled.” 
Poe's eyes flick to your entwined fingers and then your your face. “Yeah? Wear coordinating outfits and everything?” His toothy smile is absolutely contagious and you laugh a bit at the image. I mean you already both have orange jumpsuits, it wouldn’t be that hard. 
“Yes. And be 8 hours late to absolutely everything because of you. Yes. I want it all Poe. Every cringey corny bit.”
He pulls you into a hug and his hands run down your back, stopping at your bum. “Can I call you aggressively sweet nicknames in public? Like, cuddle butt?” He squeezes for good measure and chuckles lowly at your squeal. You bring your hands up to twist in his passion-mussed hair.
“Only if I get to call you… honey booger. Or something— I’ll think of a good one.”
Poe snorts and that and shakes his head. “Deal.” 
You kiss him, and his lips are so warm. Another breeze blows through the window and it smells like fresh water and heated greenery.
Poe rubs small circles on your on your lower back with his thumbs. “Mmmm can I kiss you in public?”
“I’d be offended if you didn’t, commander.”
“And talk baby-talk to each other?”
Oh maker, he's in a silly mood. He's not serious. This is his way of asking 'do you really want me?' without asking. And you do. You fucking do. Even if you have to tell him you'd do kriffing baby talk in front of the crew to reassure him.
You gasp. “We weren’t doing that already? Well then, we’d better to do extra baby-talk to make up for lost time.” 
Poe laughs loudly, all trace of insecurity gone. He bends his knees slightly and grips you by the waist in the circle of his strong arms, picks you up and twirls you around in a hug. “Maker, we are going to be insufferable.”
You kiss his neck, leaving your lips there on the rough stubble when you say, “So… exactly how we’ve always been?”
“Yeah. I guess things won't change too much.”
2K notes · View notes
venuslore · 6 months
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𖥔 — 𝐒𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐓 𝐃𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐌𝐒 ; send me this, an aesthetic/colour/trope, and one of my characters for a moodboard !
forbidden romance + poe dameron
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45 notes · View notes
againstacecilia · 1 year
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Somewhere Warm and Sunny
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PAIRING: Poe Dameron x fem!Reader, modern!AU (part of the No More Wasted Time universe)
WORD COUNT: 2.3k
RATING: E (minors, shoo)
EXCERPT:  "Opening the door, you see Poe standing there with his phone to his ear. A smile is indeed spread across his face, a bag of takeout in his free hand. 'Thought I could help with the dinner part?'"
WARNINGS: Smut, fluff, domestic bliss, no beta reader (whoops), unprotected p-in-v sex (wrap it up irl please)
PROMPT: I don't want to give anything away, but prompt credit to @creativepromptsforwriting, specifically this one. 💖
A/N: We're a year to the day of writing fanfiction here on tumblr dot com! Thank you to EVERYONE who has been here for the ride, whether that's from day one or you're new to this little corner of the internet. I wish I could more accurately put into words what this year has meant to me, but I can't express enough gratitude or love for the people I've met doing. I love being here, I love all of you, and I hope the next year of this writing journey bring exactly what this year brought me: you. 💖
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Spring was warm around town and the flowers on your balcony were finally starting to bloom. Weeks of bringing them inside when the nights dipped precariously towards freezing, carefully watering and fertilizing on a schedule, and whatever else the only app you paid money for told you to do was starting to pay off. The small buds of green with hints of pinks and reds and yellows peeking through promise new beginnings. 
Coming home late from work one day, you unlock the door and bump it open with a hip, hands full of grocery bags. You drop them unceremoniously on the kitchen island and close the door behind you. Breathing a sigh of relief, you begin putting the groceries away when your phone starts buzzing across the counter. 
Scrambling to catch it before it jumps onto the floor, you smile as Poe’s contact picture comes up. “Hey, baby!”
“Hey sweetheart,” his voice filters through the phone, “What are you up to?”
“I just got home,” you respond, bringing your shoulder up to hold the phone to your ear, freeing your hands up to continue opening the fridge to shove vegetables and other perishables into their places before shutting the door again. “Unfortunately, I have to go back to work in a couple of hours.”
“You’ve been working your ass off the last couple of weeks, are you sure you can’t take the night off?” 
“I’m sorry, love,” you stop moving and sigh, leaning against the counter, “you know I’d so much rather spend tonight with you but I’m so close to finishing this project…”
“I know, it’s okay.” A smile creeps into his voice, “You said you have to go back in a couple of hours?”
A knock sounds at your door and you push yourself off the counter, “I’ve got just long enough to eat dinner and maybe take a power nap.”
Opening the door, you see Poe standing there with his phone to his ear. A smile is indeed spread across his face, a bag of takeout in his free hand. “Thought I could help with the dinner part?”
“Poe,” you laugh, hanging up the phone and slipping it into your pocket, “How’d you know?”
He shrugs and walks through the doorway, putting his phone away and wrapping an arm around you, “I know my girl.”
“Yeah you do,” you smile and press a kiss to his lips. “Come on, I’m starving.”
You both fall into the comfortable routine of getting the table ready for dinner. Food is put on plates, silverware grabbed and drinks poured. Once all the commotion dies down, you and Poe are seated and companionable silence falls over the room. 
“So what’s this big project you have going on?” Poe asks before slurping noodles off his plate.
You laugh at the noise and respond, “We have this anal-retentive client who has asked us to redo the structure of his contract three or four times before signing off on a big event we’re organizing for his company and the event is next week.” You pause for a drink of water before continuing, “I’m in charge of communication between his company and the other businesses that will be attending, so getting them enough notice and organizing guest lists and catering and ugh… It’s been a nightmare.”
“Sounds like you don’t get paid enough.”
“With all the overtime I’ve been clocking, I’ll be able to take a nice vacation in a couple of months, so it’s all worth it.” A smile pulls at your lips, “Wanna go somewhere warm and sunny?”
“Mmm, I like the sound of that.” He wiggles his eyebrows at you across the table. “You deserve a break.”
“And I’ll get one,” you promise, taking another bite and glancing at your watch, “I promise, I’ll take a long weekend next weekend after the event.”
“Good. Now, about this vacation.” He puts down his fork and leans back in his chair, “We could make it a special trip.”
“What’d you have in mind?” 
“Oh I don’t know,” he rubs his chin, “Somewhere we could lay on the beach, rent a little private bungalow…”
“Oooh, yeah! And go snorkeling?”
“Whatever you want, sweetheart.” He flashes you a crooked smile while you finish the last bit of your food. 
Plopping your napkin onto your plate, you stand and clear the plates from the table, heading to the kitchen to dump them in the sink. “We could plan it for June?”
“June sounds great,” Poe responds. He watches you as you go about getting ready to head back to work.
“I’ll have to get a new bathing suit, maybe a couple of sundresses,” you throw over your shoulder heading into your bedroom. He follows you, stopping just inside the doorway.
“Something white?” Poe suggests, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed. 
“Something white?” You ask, turning away from your closet to face him, eyebrows scrunching in confusion. “Why white?”
“That might be what makes this vacation special.” His voice has softened, but his gaze burns into yours. “Just you and me, maybe an officiant…”
Comprehension begins bubbling in your stomach. “That sounds a lot like a marriage proposal,” you whisper, eyes never leaving his from across the room.
“Maybe it is,” he responds. He steps toward you, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a black velvet box as he drops to one knee. 
It’s small, but you’ve never seen something demand so much attention. It’s impossible not to stare as he opens it, hinges creaking as a gorgeous ring is revealed. Smaller stones surround the centerpiece, delicate details along the band catching the breath from your lungs. Looking from the ring to the man holding the box, tears begin to flood your eyes. 
He whispers your name like a prayer before asking: “Will you marry me?”
Barely letting him finish the question, you close the space between you and drop to the floor to kiss him, laughing and stuttering over your words. “Of course, I will,” you manage to finally answer, tears sparkling in your eyes.  
He kisses you deeply again before plucking the ring from the box. With reverence, he slips the ring on your finger and kisses each knuckle on your left hand. “I bought this the day after you moved back home and I’ve wanted to give it to you ever since.”
“We’ve only known each other for a few decades at this point, Dameron, what took you so long?” You tease him, nuzzling your nose against his. 
He playfully nips at you and laughs, “Can you blame me for being a little nervous?”
“No, I guess I can’t...” You shift to look directly into his eyes, “But I probably would’ve said yes, even then.”
He smiles again, pure joy radiating from every plane of his face. “Good to know my nerves really were for nothing, then.”
The shine from your hand pulls your attention and you admire the ring now adorning your finger. Holding your hand out in front of your face, you wiggle your fingers and giggle as the weight begins to become familiar. All you can think when you finally tear your gaze away from your hand and find Poe’s eyes is how much you love him. How much stronger you feel when you’re near him. 
How he’s always felt like home.
“I love you,” you whisper, not caring that you’re both still on the floor of your room. Not caring that you said you had to go back to work tonight. “And now I get to love you forever.”
He grabs your hand and stands, pulling you onto your feet and wrapping you in his arms. You stand like this for a moment before he replies, “A year ago, I thought I had lost you.” He nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck placing tender kisses along your skin between each sentence. “I thought some other guy was going to get to wake up to you every morning. I thought I had missed my chance to give you everything you deserve…” He gently kisses up the column of your throat before hovering over your lips, “I don’t know what I did to get a second chance, but I’ll never take it for granted.” He finally brings his lips to yours, crashing into you with the passion and fire you’ve only ever gotten from him. 
Of their own accord, your hands reach up and grab his shirt, pulling him with you as your feet inch backward toward the bed. Once your calves hit the mattress, you sink down into the soft covers and plush pillows and Poe follows without ever breaking the kiss. 
He does eventually pull away and you lay there for a moment, side by side, just staring into each other’s eyes. You lean in and softly kiss him again before saying, “I love you, Poe.”
You’re nearly reduced to tears again by the love shining in his eyes when you pull away. Lines crinkle along his lips and eyes as he smiles, brighter than the sun. “I love you, sweetheart. More than I’ve ever loved anyone.” 
His words fill your chest with warmth. He leans in and kisses your forehead, breathing in the natural scent that surrounds you. He pulls you close to his chest and starts kissing you again; more intensely this time. His hands hold and caress your body with reverence, massaging love with his fingers into every inch of your skin. Your hands rest on his chest, grabbing his shirt again and pulling him as close to you as he can. 
“Poe,” you sigh into his lips, with no other reason than to just say his name. He smiles at the sound.
“I love you,” he whispers again, sending his hand down between your legs. A smile spreads over your face and a simmer begins in your belly at the movement. Giving him permission, you hang your leg over his hip to give him access to your still-clothed center. Like a switch flipped, he wastes no time unbuttoning the front of your pants and sliding his fingers between your skin and the waistband of your underwear. 
He circles your clit a few times before diving into your heated core, drawing your pleasure almost immediately to a peak. His pace is unrelenting and your hands fly to his arms, desperately grabbing his shifting muscles and nails digging into tan flesh. A breathy whine escapes your throat as your eyes flutter close. He’s patient; working his hand unfailingly while his lips never leave yours. A rock in the storm of your building climax, you clench your hands in his shirt as your walls begin to flutter around his fingers.
Poe breaks away from your lips and buries his face under yours to bite down on the soft skin where your shoulder meets your neck, sending you hurtling over the edge. Your body shudders next to his, the only thought in your mind and word on your lips is his name over and over again. 
As you catch your breath, you loosen your grip on his shirt and reach down to shimmy your pants all the way off. All whispers and breathy moans of love and adoration, Poe frees himself from his jeans and kicks them off the end of the bed, hooking your leg back over his hip and nudging your sensitive entrance with his cock. Still impossibly slick from your initial release, he slips inside you with ease. 
“Ask me again,” you whisper, eyes locking with his as your bodies join.
Always on the same page, the love of your life stares back at you, worship pouring from his very soul when he asks, “Will you marry me?”
“Yes,” you sigh, eyes closing as he slowly fills you.
“Say it again,” he pants, lusciously dragging back out.  
“Yes,” you respond, head falling to his collarbone. You latch your lips to the skin there, nipping and kissing a trail up his neck toward his ear. Just as you open your mouth to speak, he tips his hips back up and steals the breath from your lungs, leaving your open mouth in a whine. 
He groans as you clench around him, the emotion of the moment sending you racing toward another release. He wraps you tight in his arms, picking up the pace. The second before your second orgasm takes you, your ankle traps his hips into you and you shatter, stars dancing across your vision as Poe falls apart with you. Your bodies stay entwined for long enough that you begin to drift, warm and safe in your lover’s arms. 
His lips on yours bring you back to your body and you kiss him back, sweet as honey. Both of you wear blissful smiles as you open your eyes to his glittering gaze. 
“Hey you,” he whispers, voice husky.
“Hey,” you giggle back.
“How’s my fiancee doing” He croons, nuzzling his nose against yours. 
“Mmm,” you get your left arm free and wiggle your fingers as much as you can in the small space between your bodies, “wonderful.”
“Me too,” he chuckles. He removes himself from you but doesn’t go far. “Do you still have to go back to work tonight?” He asks with a playful pout. 
You laugh, cupping his face and running your thumb along his full lips, “Nah, there are much more important things I need to do tonight.”
He smiles under your touch and kisses your finger, “Like what?”
“Let’s see,” your eyes shine as you pull his bottom lip down. He opens his mouth enough for your thumb to slip between his teeth. His lips close and his tongue swirls over the pad of the digit and a low moan vibrates through his body. “I have some ideas,” you finish with a whisper.
Within seconds, work is completely forgotten about as you and your fiance lose yourselves all over again, more than content to spend the rest of the night, the rest of your lives, wrapped up in each other.
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