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#poe fanfic
chuuyasheaven · 1 year
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Hi, I saw your new event, can I ask for something with Poe and 🌶1 and Fem/afab reader, with a fluffy ending?
I'm fine with anything, just please no degradation.
If you don't feel like writing this one, that's okay too
Have a nice day!
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Prompt+K!nk; 10: “Quit teasing me, darling..” / 12: “You look so pretty in this dress..please, let me rip it off of you, angel..” [+] 1: Praising k!nk. * Summary; You put on the most beautiful dress imaginable, and it’s not even for Poe? In that case, he can’t let you leave now, can he? <3
Warnings; switch!Poe, switch!fem!Reader, praising k!nk, Poe is on top but Reader is in charge, body worship kink? (Reader recieving), soft/passionate love making, dirty talk (maybe), typos, rushed, slight grinding, teasing (Poe recieving), Reader calls Poe ‘Edgar’, petnames, etc.
Format; Fic! (It’s either long or short)
Notes (from me); FIRST TIME WRITING FOR POE AHH!!! Honestly, i don’t think I’ll catch his character well, but i have enough motivation to try!! ENJOY POOKIE <33
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“I’m leaving, Edgar, see you later!”, you shouted, thinking he’ll respond.
As Poe came to say goodbye, he saw the magnificent dress you put on. He just stood there speechless.
“Earth to Poe? I have to leave soon.”, you said, snapping Edgar out of his thoughts. “Oh, sorry. But, my love, where are you going again?”, Poe asked, you looked at the time before answering.
“Out, and I’m gonna be late too.”, you answered sarcastically.
“Why not spend time with me? I’m free to do anything, dear.”, “You have Karl as company, go eat with him or something.”
“What if..i really desire you, darling?”, Poe shyly asked, leaving you in kinda surprise.
You smirked, seeing this as a great opportunity to tease him a little.
“Oh? Tell me, Edgar, how much do you desire me?”, Poe’s cheeks turned into a light tainted pink, as he’s placing his hands around your waist.
“I-i need you, dear, we haven’t done anything for so long..i just wanna feel your warmth again.”, now, he convinced you to stay.
“You look so pretty in this dress..please, let me rip it off of you, angel..i’m begging you.”, he was so cute when he was needy, right? So why not help him get rid of it..
You kissed him, starting from the front doorstep to the bedroom, now the both of you were desperate for eachother. Gasping for air as you parted from the kiss.
Poe was already panting and hard, you sat him down onto the bed, looking at him seductively.
“You wanna see me undress, darling? Come on, tell me.”, Edgar looked at you desperately, nodding a ‘yes’ at you.
You unzip your dress, as it opened, cool air hit your skin. You continue to take it of slowly, to tease him again. Now your dress was sliding down your knees, landing on the floor, it was revealed, his favorite black laced lingerie.
“I wanted to surprise you after i came back, but you got impatient..so i might aswell give you your surprise now, hm?”, your voice was so sly and smooth, making him even needier.
Taking a seat at Poe’s lap, you kissed him on the collarbone, making him whimper quietly.
“P-please, quit teasing me, darling..”, he whispered.
“Awe, do you need me that much, baby? If you do, then tell me. I wanna hear you, Edgar.”
“I need you s’much, angel, please..ah..”, you started grinding on him slowly, your hips moving ever so smoothly, making him loose his mind already.
Poe kept on whimpering, it was truly a heavenly melody. (honestly same)
He was so hard already, he started leaking precum, while still being in clothes. As for you, you started getting wetter by each grind.
You stopped, Edgar whined at the loss of contact.
You got off him and removed your panties, Poe just stared at you, like he was hypnotized by your beautiful scent. Which one though?
“Why just stare? C’mon, take off your clothes, darling. Don’t you want my warmth?”, you didn’t need to tell him twice!
Finally, all the clothes were on the floor, Poe was on top of you.
He was thrusting into you in a soft pace, breathy moans left his mouth, your arms hung around his neck again.
You let some moans leave too, but not to forget, the praise Edgar loves.
“Yes, k-keep thrusting, such a good boy..oh god..!”
“F-fuck, i love you so much, you’re doing so g-good, darling..”
“Ah! T-that’s the spot, Edgar, don’t stop..”
Not to mention, Poe also rewarded those praises with his (body) worship.
“You look s-so pretty like t-this, angel..”
“ngh!..you’re so p-perfect, can’t stop now..”
“Your body..it’s t-truly beautiful l-like this..”
All of this, made the both of you reach your orgasms faster.
With all the loving sentences, the soft but passionate thrusts, you both eventually got to your high.
Poe collapsed beside you, panting heavily. You smiled at him, getting up after to get some things to clean you both up.
After all of this, it was already 9pm, almost too late. Finally you hugged your boyfriend to sleep.
The next day, you woke up to the bed empty, you asked yourself where he went.
Walking to the kitchen, hungry for some breakfast, you saw Edgar with Karl trying to feed him.
“Come on, Karl, you need to eat..”, he tried to get Karl to eat.
“Morning, Poe, doesn’t Karl want to eat anything?”, you questioned, Poe looked at you with a troubled face, which made you giggle at his pout.
“He doesn’t! I tried but he doesn’t want to..can you maybe try?”, giving himself tired nod, you sat down to give it a shot.
“Karl, you have to eat, small one. Come on, please, for me-”, Karl started to eat before you even ended your sentence, meanwhile Edgar was taken aback.
“I was trying for more than ten minutes and you just ask him nicely for him just to start eating?! That’s no fair, Karl!”, this just made your morning way better than it already was.
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I TRIED IN THE END, I HOPE THIS IS ALRIGHT, POOKIE‼️🥳
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But there are other collective rights that are built right into the structure of copyright. For example, every musician has the right to perform or record every other musician’s songs, through “collective licensing” systems.
In a very important sense, songs do not belong to the creators who create them — they belong to every musician. When Sid Vicious wanted to record labor markets.“My Way,” he didn’t have to negotiate with Paul Anka for permission — he just paid the statutory fee and grabbed the mic.
While this might strike you as weird, there’s a good reason for it — every musician became a musician by performing the songs that were around them, and they always have.
As Jenkins and Boyle describe in their incredible book about the collective nature of music production, “THEFT: A History of Music,” Brahms’s First Symphony is commonly referred to as “Beethoven’s Tenth” because Brahms was basically a Beethoven tribute act —at least, at first (THEFT is open access, free to read and share, and you will never think about music the same way again).
Music isn’t unique in this regard. Edgar Allen Poe remixed many of the currents in his contemporary literary culture to create the detective story in 1841 with his story “Murders In the Rue Morgue.” Just as Brahms was a Beethoven tribute act, every detective novelist is doing Poe fanfic.
-United We Stand: Creation is collective - and so is bargaining
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random-writer-23 · 1 year
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Welcome Home (Poe x Gn reader)
Summary: Poe's been gone on a mission for longer than he was supposed to.
Words: 1,387
Warnings: tooth-rotting fluff, mentions of reader not eating (not eating disorder), brief description of minor injuries, allusions to sexy time cause c'mon it's Poe you can't expect me to not slip that in.
A/n: just thought I'd try my hand at writing something short for once, this has got to be the shortest thing I've ever written, and it's still over 1k words. And it took all the strength I had in me not to turn this into a full-blown oneshot. Anyway, this is mostly unedited but my last Poe thing is doing well so I figured I would feed you more Poe content. What the public wants they shall receive. Also, I'm pretty sure I wrote this with gender neutral reader, but if y'all find something not gender-neutral, lmk so I can fix it :D But anyway let me know what y'all think of my first drabble, and I might write more in the future when I feel like I haven't published anything in a long time. And as usual, all likes, comments, reblogs, and follows are welcome and greatly appreciated Also I am still looking for beta readers so if you’re interested see the pinned post on my profile for more information. happy reading my lovelies!
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I paced the floor of my room, trying to figure out something to do, I could do laundry, read a book, or make lunch. Preferably that option, I hadn't eaten a proper meal in what seemed like weeks. Just snacks when the stress got too much to handle and I didn't know what else to do. The fighter squadrons should've been back by now, they were only sent on a short recon mission, they must have run into some trouble, or worse what if they were dead? I stopped my pacing and headed to the kitchen, ready to make something to eat, I had to take my mind off the quiet in the room. I opened the conservator and looked for what we had that I could use to make something to eat. I rifled through the food I had getting more discouraged the more I looked. A sandwich would have to suffice for my meal today, and I'd also have to make a list of things I'd need to get from the market on base. I mean sure I could always go eat at the canteen but canteen food everynight gets sickening, and theres nothing like a homecooked meal. I began to hum a little tune to myself as I spread mayo on my bread. When I heard a knock at the door. 
"Who is it?" I called to the person on the other side. 
"Lucy!" the voice announced, Lucy lives in the room next to me. 
"Come in!" I told her, and the door slid open revealing her standing there, hair messed up and very out of breath. "Oh dear Lucy, what happened?" I asked her my eyes wide as I moved to get her a cup of water. "Here I'll get you some water" I told her. 
"No time" She breathed heavily, hands on her knees to stabilize herself and catch her breath. I looked at her confused. 
"wha-" 
"(y/n) they're back!" She blurted out, and I froze my brain processing what she was saying. 
"They're..." I mumbled my voice going quiet as she grabbed my hand and smiled nodding. A smile quickly made its way across my face and I laughed "They're back!" I shouted giggling, Lucy grabbed my hand. 
"well let's go!" She said turning to pull me out the door, trailing me along behind her, we ran through the base to the landing bay. Only yelling 'they're back' at the people who gave us weird looks. We sprinted giggling all the way back and once we got to the landing bay, time seemed to stop. I stopped running and Lucy ran forward to greet her girlfriend, running into her open arms with shouts of joy. I didn't have to look very long for my love. I saw him immediately, climbing down the ladder from his x wing, when his feet touched the ground, a huge crowd immediately swarmed around him, and he smiled laughing as people patted him on the back congratulating him on another successful mission. He quickly turned his attention away from the people crowding around him, his eyes searching the crowd quickly. A look of subtle panic slowly crossing his face the more he searched. Until our eyes locked and I saw his instant relief. Watched all the stress drain from his shoulders, the exhaustion he didn't let show to the others wash away. I smiled a wide smile, giggling at the goofy grin spreading across his face. He pushed through the crowd around him, and they parted easily around him. Going back to congratulating each other the second he moved past as if he wasn't even there. He finally made it through all the people, and as soon as he did, time resumed and I ran towards his open arms. Once I got to him he picked me up spinning me around laughing. He put me back down, and once my feet hit the floor, he wrapped his arms around me tightly pulling me against him desperately.  As if holding me as tight as he could, would prevent me from ever leaving his side again. And if I had the choice it would. I breathed him in,  my fist clenching around the fabric of his flight suit tightly. The tears welled up in my eyes and I blinked letting them fall. I pulled away from him for a minute looking him up and down, to make sure he wasn't visibly hurt. Just to make sure he was really there, and he wasn't some illusion my mind had come up with. I pulled his helmet off his head dropping it to the floor and grabbing his cheeks turning his head looking for any sign of injuries. He had a couple of scrapes on his face, and smeared dried blood along his brow and forehead, but other than that he was fine. I touched his face, running my fingers gently along the cuts. Once I determined he was fine, I pulled him back in hugging him close, my body shaking with sobs as I came to the realization he was back and actually standing relatively unharmed in front of me. 
"You're safe" I murmured into his chest, almost disbelievingly. 
"Of course, couldn't leave my pretty girl all by herself" He smiled lifting my head with a hand under my chin making me look up at him. He wiped away my tears with one hand, and I smiled leaning into his touch. I opened my eyes and leaned in placing a soft kiss on his lips. Gently, delicately, hesitantly, pulling away and looking up at him through my lashes. He smiled and pulled me back in for another kiss, fueling this one with more desperation, gripping my waist tightly, and moving his hand from my face to the back of my neck. I wrapped my hands around his neck tangling my fingers in his hair. Smiling against his lips, he pulled away chuckling, and leaned his forehead against mine. "Maker, I love you" He mumbled, pressing his lips against me again, pulling away quickly, "I missed you" he kissed me again. "You're so beautiful, (y/n)" another kiss. "My (y/n)" another kiss, an explosion of affection. My heart fluttered, and I giggled turning away from him to hide my flushing face. "Don't hide from me gorgeous" He mumbled into my ear, only driving me further into hiding. 
"I love you too Poe" I looked back at him, placing one last kiss on his lips before his friends ran up to us cheering and screaming. He rolled his eyes at their approach, and he stepped away from me unwillingly. Not letting me go too far as he stood next to my side pulling me close to him. Finn, Rey and BB-8, came up to us Finn pulling us all into a large group hug, blubbering about how they survived another day. I rolled my eyes pulling out of the group hug with a laugh as I felt something hitting my leg. I looked down and gave a shout of joy as BB spun in a circle joyfully having my attention. I knelt down to his level giving him a kiss as well. "I'm glad you're back BB" I smiled, and he wooped in reply. I laughed, standing back up when Poe tapped my shoulders. I looked at him with a smile and he gave me another quick kiss. Finn groaned,
"Alright, get a room you two" Rey laughed,
"but not before we get a drink from the canteen" Finn added pumping his fist, and we all cheered.
"you good to celebrate" Poe leaned close to my ear whispering the question so only I could hear him. 
"Of course, you are a hero after all" I giggled, "but let's make it quick, I want to give you a proper welcome home" I smiled slyly and his eyes widened, realizing what I meant. He perked up quickly. 
"Alright let's drink!" He cheered loudly and I laughed. He leaned down to pick up his helmet, placing it on my head and gripping my hand tightly. "Maker I'm glad to be home" He smiled. 
"Me too" I replied as we followed the cheering crowd to the canteen, hand in hand, and the weeks of stress I felt washing away, and all was right in the world once more. 
--Fin--
QOTD: What is your favourite star wars movie? Mine. is either revenge of the sith or the animated clone wars movie!
Join my discord server: https://discord.gg/9bwRmtXCuB
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flightlessangelwings · 6 months
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Being inclusive with your reader insert fic is a kindness. It tells people of color (poc) that you are considering someone who does not look like you in your fic. It shows love and dedication to our craft. It tells poc that they belong here too and they can see themselves in your story.
Poc aren’t look for activism in fic, we know fandom isn’t that serious, but we should be able to have that same level of escapism when we turn to fic and fandom. We belong here too. This space is for everyone, not just one group of people.
Just to give a few examples of how simple it can be: say “skin warmed” instead of blushed, say “cradled your head” instead of running fingers through hair, say “angles yourself to kiss” instead of standing on tiptoes, use italics to indicate Spanish to take out a throwaway line of “you didn’t understand Spanish” things like that. Small changes that do not impact the fic at all but make a world of difference in inclusivity!
And for anything you can’t/don’t want to change, simply add warning in the beginning. Things like hair descriptors, anything reader might wear, some backstory for reader (especially involving family or where the story is set), readers job, things like that. A lot of times just having that heads up before the fic makes a world of difference!
And one example of kindness we as writers always worked to change: until recently (just a couple years ago) it wasn’t common to label the gender of the reader. But those who aren’t female asked writers to label it so they know which to read and which to avoid, and now it’s common to label the gender/pronouns of the reader. So it is possible! It just takes effort! And I’m a writer myself so I know it can be done!
We can pretend to be a bartender or a bounty hunter or an actress or anything else. But we shouldn’t have to imagine we’re a white one.
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fettuccin-e · 2 years
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I hope fanfiction writers know that I think of them like celebrities
I literally scream a little bit whenever one of them interacts with a comment i made on one of their posts like they are literally famous in my mind
thank you fanfiction writers you are literally sometimes the only thing keeping me alive 
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biggestsimponhere · 1 year
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The next person i see make the reader or OCs love interest call them “kid” is gonna get clocked in the face. That’s not something you say to your ROMANTIC love interest. Like how’re you gonna call them kid but also want to fuck? Explain that to me please. Because you say kid and i think youre my new father figure. You all need to be STOPPED.
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teencopandthesourwolf · 9 months
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“Why did you ask me that?”
“Huh? What's that, big guy?” Stiles mumbles, answering the query with one of his own without looking away from Derek's laptop screen. The laptop Derek kind of bought for Stiles for when Stiles is at the loft.
Whatever. 
There's a ballpoint pen shoved in the kid's mouth—God, that mouth—and another slid behind an ear, the latter ready and waiting for Stiles to click to death in the In Between Typing Times.
The others dispersed a couple of minutes ago. Apart from Derek and Stiles, only Lydia and Deaton now remain at the loft and they're deep in conversation about the preliminary theory of who or what is killing the humans of Beacon Hills this week and are standing at the opposite side of the open-plan space, making more coffee. Scott and Malia left to rally the other ʼwolves (not answering their phones as they're at a cinema screening) plus find and talk to Argent to arrange a pack meeting proper about the situation, so they can all work on devising a plan. Granted, there is Peter to consider—who's probably still lurking somewhere, what with lurking being one of his favourite pastimes—who can obviously hear any and all conversations that are, or could be happening inside of the building. Sadly, though, Derek has never been able to hide much of anything from his uncle.
So. 
He thinks about elaborating on the question he asked Stiles, but can't.
He tries not to stare at Stiles, and fails.
Stiles is squinting at the screen with intent and looking like he has forgotten Derek said anything at all. Or that Derek is still hovering close by. Or that Derek, you know, exists.
Derek is just standing there, all difficult and awkward in his own fucking home and his own fucking body, looming over Stiles like a creeper as Stiles taps away furiously at the keyboard and violently zig-zags a fingertip across the mousepad like an actual lunatic.
Derek almost laughs at that.
The Boy Who Runs With Wolves.
“Why wouldn't I?” Stiles now asks, still mumbling around the chewed ballpoint Derek is trying not to be jealous of. 
“I—what?” Caught off guard, always and only by Stiles. 
Stiles doesn't skip a beat, unlike Derek's heart. “Why wouldn't I ask?” he adds.
Oh, right.
“I, uh, I don't... ” Derek trails off pathetically, swallowing any confidence he had previously mustered and looking away from Stiles, even though those big, brown devastating eyes aren't actually looking at Derek because they are, of course, still zoomed-in on whichever web page is currently yielding the most information.
Dusk is quickly closing in and all around them and the light filtering through the loft's huge window has begun to dim somewhat, so that the glow of the computer screen is now filling Stiles' eyes with bright, dancing sparks and arrhythmic shapes as they flicker like lightning from one tab to another, then another, then another. And as mesmerising as it is to watch—Stiles looks as though he is brimming with magic—the sight becomes too much for Derek, and looking away feels like his only option.
It doesn't last.
Stiles' long, large-knuckled fingers still their rapid movement just as Derek's eyes find their way back.
Derek watches the kid some more, like a lifeline.
An anchor.
Then, Stiles is taking the pen from those perfect lips as sneaker-toes slowly spin the swivel chair around so that Stiles is now facing Derek where he stands with arms crossed reactively over his chest.
His heart.
“I asked because I wanted to know if you were okay, man," Stiles divulges, as if that's nothing at all. As if it's something Derek hears often. He tilts his head to catch Derek's eye. Which works, of course—because it always works, no matter the nature of the moment they're caught up in. "Like, I was concerned, y`know?” 
Derek feels guilty just for looking. And not only because he wants to touch but because he wants to let Stiles care.
“I care, dude,” Stiles says on cue and Derek tries to self-implode while Stiles waits, probably for Derek to look at him and say don't call me dude and maybe hoping not to have his head bitten off or his throat ripped out. 
Derek does look again, just not for long. Barely a glance. He can't afford himself too much Stiles, not when Stiles is looking directly back at him. It's safer that way; self-preservation and all.
“You do know that, right?” Stiles tries again. “That I care.” 
Derek wants to ask Stiles if they can talk, if Derek can tell Stiles things. Derek wants to ask Stiles if he'll stay and if he'll let Derek spill his secrets, tell Stiles everything, like Derek never does with anyone these days, and if Stiles will hold Derek's hand when Derek cries about it, like Derek doesn’t allow himself to anymore. Derek wants to ask Stiles if Derek can touch him and hold him and if Stiles would hold him back, if Stiles would ever want that, if Stiles could ever be his.
“Don't call me dude,” is what he actually says because he can't not. But then he steals himself, head staticky and heart thumping as he dares himself to add (after what is undeniably too-long a pause), “And yeah. Maybe I do.” 
Then they look at each other. They just—look.
Look and look and look.
And they each keep looking at the other for a very long time. Definitely too long for two people supposedly not much more than acquaintances. Allies, maybe. Comrades at tenuous best.
Then they look for longer. Look for more. Look until it starts to feel as if they are the only two people in the room, in the building, in the world.
Whatever happened to self-preservation?
Something is happening and Derek is pretty sure it's not just happening to him, and he finds he is equally stunned as he is thrilled as he is completely fucking terrified about that. 
Eventually, Stiles says, “Derek, we're friends.” Then he's licking his lips and looking Derek up and down, shameless, and adding with a shrug of one shoulder, “Till we're not.”
The latter part is spoken like a dark secret, but one without the slightest hint of malice—that's not how he means it. It's more of a promise than a threat, if Derek is remembering correctly what genuine affirmations sound like (it's been a while).
The sparks from Stiles' eyes are then flashing blue in Derek's, and Derek could swear he hears every one of his neurons firing inside of himself, all at once as each of his mutated cells flare into overdrive, nail beds and gums tingling, the short hairs on the back of his neck and arms and hands standing up on end.
He feels utterly alive.
It's honestly a struggle not to whine like a pup and Derek has truly never been more happy of the fact that Stiles is unable to scent chemo-signals because, oh, Derek would be so fucked right now.
He has a reply for Stiles but it's caught in his throat, the sentence forming then solidifying, fast as a quick-drying glue.
Derek is just—standing there. Statuesque. Alternating between trying to swallow his words down and attempting to speak them, like a first class dipshit, and just looking and looking and looking at Stiles.
In an entirely mortifying turn of events, it is actually the sound of Peter's low, mocking chuckle from some tucked-away shadowy place in the loft that is the thing that forces Derek unstuck, and it takes all Derek has to not roll his eyes to the back of his skull and growl out I'm going to kill you again now, Uncle. 
He takes a breath, un-clenches his fists and tries for a smile—or at least a hint of one. He doesn't want to freak the kid out.
Derek then manages to repeat Stiles's words back at him, no more than a whisper. “Till we're not.”
Stiles is just looking and looking and looking at Derek before he's asking, “Can I stay for the evening? You can talk to me while I research. I always work better with noise. It'll be soothing,” like he's ordering pizza instead of answering all of Derek's prayers.
Derek notes how the kid's usually erratic eye-contact is weirdly as unwavering as his usually erratic heartbeat, which is now weirdly steady as a metronome.
That's a lot of weird. 
Derek fights the urge to bite into his lip with his fangs. He wants to draw blood, and to taste it.
He embarrassingly feels his eye twitch and his breath hitch as he dares himself to do this. 
He sputters, “What do you want me to talk about?”
Stiles slowly swivels back towards the light of the laptop—ethereal milky skin and dark moles once again luminous in its white-blue glow—at the very same time as the evening's first moonshine peeks through clouds and seeps in through the loft's huge skylight.
Derek is memorised. 
Stiles starts annoyingly clicking away at the Clicking Pen, while shoving the other back between those beautiful lips of his, now mumbling his words around the thing once more and speaking them as if they are the most obvious thing in the universe. 
“Everything, Der.”
.
for @poebin for asking <3 (unedited, soz)
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oikasugayama · 5 months
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BSD MEN AS BOYFRIENDS pt. 2
pt. 1 Dazai, Kunikida, Atsushi, Chuuya pt. 2 Ango, Ranpo, Poe
mentions of smut in Ranpo and Poe's!!
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Ango
He's a sadboi and once he's comfortable with you he's probably whiny and clingy. It's extreeeemely common for him to come home from work exhausted, change out of his suit, and silently drop down beside you wherever you are. If you're in bed he'll lay with you, if you're on the couch he'll sit with you, hell sometimes he'll get into your bath with you. He wont talk for a while--sometimes up to an hour-- while he decompresses from work, and then finally once he's started to relax he'll talk to you and ask how your day was. You're used to this-- you can't imagine the stress he's under on a day to day basis not only doing his job but knowing that he's incredibly hated among some very very dangerous circles. You promised him a long time ago that you wouldn't ask about it and would try your best not to worry about it. "I could be killed any day for a multitude of reasons," he told you once. "Let me worry about that. Please just let me feel normal and in love with you in the meantime."
He doesn't...have friends... so you get to spend ALL of his free time with him :D Not that there's a lot of it. He hates working late, but unfortunately it happens a lot (funny how it coincides with every time the Port Mafia or the Armed Detective Agency get involved in some big scheme). You miss him when he's late coming home, but as much as you want to be a cute partner and bring him dinner at the office (or stop by for any reason for that matter), you know you can't. Ango keeps your relationship EXTREMELY private, to the point of being secretive. You're not allowed to be seen in public together, for your safety. He doesn't want you to be taken and used against him for any reason, so it's better that your relationship is under wraps.
One time, though, you were at home with him and Dazai--okay, so Ango has one friend--invited himself in. You'd never met him before this moment, and he seemed shocked that Ango wasn't home alone. You've heard enough about Dazai to know that he likely instantly knew who you were to Ango when he saw you leaned against each other on the couch in the split second before Ango leapt to his feet and started yelling at Dazai for breaking in.
Ango honestly seems a little relieved to introduce you properly to Dazai-- you're the two most important people in his personal life, after all. Now maybe he can have his two favorite people in the room at the same time and feel a little normal for once.
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Ranpo
Don't even fucking pretend like you don't have a crush on him. The second you think "oh shit, I think I like him" he opens his eyes, quirks an eyebrow at you, and says "I didn't even do anything." If you didn't know better you'd think he's telepathic. He asks you on a date then and there (after a bit of teasing, trying to get you to admit to liking him before he outs you himself)
He fairly quickly decides that he wants to be your partner, having worked out in an instant that you'll make his life more fun and give him lots of things that he isn't used to (i.e. affection) that he desperately wants.
If you ask why he didn't date anyone before you came along, he says that he has dated a few people, but only if they've approached him, because he's too lazy to pursue anyone. It's easier for him to wait for someone to confess than to try to hunt for someone good.
He's not much for cuddling. He's kind of touch averse and isn't too fond of petting or random innocent touches or hand holding. He very, very much likes kisses and compliments, though!! You can smooch him and tell him how handsome and smart and good he is and it'll send him over the moon.
He doesn't have much of a sex drive, but you do have sex. He prefers to not do the work as much as possible. If you'll suck him off or ride him, he's more than satisfied. He tells you he used to think he could honestly live without sex, but then he remembers how good you look when you're blissed out and how proud he feels when he makes you feel good, and it makes him want to do it more. Throughout your relationship he gets a bit more sexually adventurous, but it does take a while for him to get used to all the physical touching and the energy it expends.
It's impossible to surprise him. You have to start warning him that you want to surprise him, and then he pretends not to notice any of the sneaking you do. You kind of knew this was going to be an issue going into the relationship, but you didn't realize he wouldn't know not to spoil a surprise. He gets pretty good at pretending he didn't know surprises were coming, though. His favorite ones involve you making him special dinners or coming to the office in the middle of the day to bring him lunch and give him a kiss right in front of all of his coworkers.
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Poe
He will buy you EX!PEN!SIVE! GIFTS! You want a rare first edition of a novel from the 19th century? $2,000? Pocket change. You want a beautiful gemstone neceklace and it turns out it's $100k because they're all diamonds? Easy spending money. He'd buy you a whole fucking town if you asked him to. Please ask him to. Please.
He is at your beck and call. Every second you're not with him he's thinking of you and moping. He cries to Karl that you must have forgotten about him and what if you don't love him anymore? He falls into a doom spiral and writes devastating poetry about never-ending despair and loathing--and then you text him and he's sunshine and rainbows and writes you a sonnet about how much he loves you. He's especially susceptible to sexts. If you send him a picture of your tits or your bulge, his mouth will be watering and he will call you in an instant, whining and begging for you to come see him as soon as possible.
he insists he can see through his hair and prefers it to be in his eyes to block some of the light--even if it's dark, it's still too bright for him. The first time you huff and reach up to move his hair out of his face, he nearly nuts on the spot. There's something about you grabbing his hair and forcing him to look you, unobstructed, in the eye that turns him on so much. He's very much a sub and wants you to take control and tell him exactly what you want any time you get intimate.
quality time is very important to him, just as much so as gift giving. He'd be happy to be in the same room as you even if you weren't looking at him or talking to him. All it takes is for you to be nearby for him to feel at ease. He's very prone to anxiety, but having you by his side, or just in his vicinity, makes him feel a bit braver.
He lowkey gets jealous when you give Karl more attention than him. Yes the raccoon is cute and very pettable, but Poe is pettable too, damn it, look at all that hair he has!! Run your fingers through it!! Kiss his forehead!! Discover what color his eyes are and wax poetic about how beautiful they are and ask why he keeps hiding them from you!! Give him attention!!!!!!!!!!!
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omg i really really love your blog<3 you are such a sweet person and so kind to all your followers and others on here and your writing is absolutely amazing!
i saw ur requests were open and i was wondering if you could write something for poe dameron? a hurt comfort because in your rules you said you wouldn't accept full angst which honestly is so real of you and i completely agree :D its just, ive read so many fics where poe's best friend or squadron member is either in love with him or fwb with him and he starts dating someone and they look rlly in love but then he leaves the person for the best friend and i cant help but always wonder how the person he left is feeling! and i was wondering if you could write something along the lines of this but he doesnt leave the reader and hes not really in love with his best friend or anything im so sorry this became really long but you can totally ignore this or say you cant do it its absolutely alright!<33
thank you sm though and i hope you have a good day!
Anon, thank you so much for such lovely and kind words! You are AMAZING! (Seriously, they have absolutely made my day/week/year!)
This ask has killed me (positive), my subconsciousness had a lot to say, it seems.
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Tangerine, Tangerine
Poe Dameron x GN!Reader Rating: M Masterlist | ao3 | want to be tagged?
Warnings: angst (but with a happy ending), thoughts that a partner is cheating, blood, x-wing fight, swearing (not star wars swearing, because even though Kriff is great, I need to say fuck), Moonbeam as a nickname, typos, rail road sentences, please let me know if I’ve missed a warning!
Word Count: 4494
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It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. 
You’d misunderstood, you’d read the situation wrong, you’d seen incorrectly. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. It was just a kiss. 
Your radio crackled, “Green Leader, checking in. We’re manoeuvring in 5. Call out.”
“Green Two check.”
“Green Three check.” 
 It was just a kiss. 
“Green Four check.” 
 It was just a-
“Green Five check.” 
Just a-
“Green Six check.” 
Just-
“Green Seven,” you swallow. “Check.” 
It wasn’t just a kiss. 
You patted your helmet twice and rolled your neck, breathing deeply as you settled in. On your left, you could see some of Blue Squadron. 
This mission was straightforward - on a holopad. 
Two teams to escort The Harbringer, the resistance supply ship. It had been damaged by a rogue blast from a tie fighter just as it jumped to hyperspace and had had to make an emergency landing on one of Tre’Ral’s desert moons. 
The crew on board had managed to fix all they could. But without proper materials, there was little chance of the ship making it out of the moon’s thick atmosphere and entering hyperspace. So Blue and Green Squadrons had been dispatched. Blue 1-4 had already made contact, jump-starting The Harbringer enough to get it airborne. 
Due to Tre’Ral’s sun and planet density, the gravity on the moons was a little stronger than most world’s atmospheric pressure. 
Green Leader, Sena, had repeated through briefing at how this would affect flying. How to be ready for it. And she hadn’t been wrong, it was different flying here. Tougher. And you loved it.
You’d grown up on Para, a planet with a high gravity density. You’d learnt to fly there well before you’d flown in space. Being here on this desolate moon almost felt like home. Your movements seemed smoother, precise. No longer needing to overcorrect for your naturally ingrained harsh movements. No longer spinning out and fighting low gravity, finally working with the tide. 
The manoeuvre would see the ships escort The Harbringer out of the moon’s atmosphere and then the rest of Blue squadron would form a sort of 3D star formation around the cargo ship. All jumping to hyperspace at the same time to carry it along with them. 
Simple. 
In theory. 
Everyone had spoken about how practically textbook it was, how easy. 
But then, of course, why was Green Squadron going? 
No one at the briefing had asked, why would they when the answer was so obvious. This part of the quadrant was teething with First Order. With a slow, busted supply ship you were all practically screaming for them to come and play target practice. 
You swallow. 
You should be focusing on that, on the mission. Instead of the utter nonsense that was ricocheting around your head and piercing your heart. 
I hadn’t just been a kiss. 
You and Poe had gotten together clumsily, three months ago, your normal awkwardness drowned out by so much Polanis Red that you almost couldn’t see straight. It had been after the battle of Hurthwen, a nasty dogfight that had everyone hyped up on adrenaline. 
He had been drunk when he kissed you, you remembered that. 
Maybe he had thought… maybe he had believed he was kissing her instead. 
It made a lot more sense. 
Sena was the Green Leader, she was a great pilot. One to be reckoned with. She was kind, she was fun, she was beautiful. She and Poe had joined the resistance together, risen the ranks together. Basically inseparable. Always laughing and joking. She had been in the same squad as Poe, under his command before she was promoted to leading one of her own. 
They had always been close. Always. Best friends. 
Sickness bubbled in your throat. 
You remembered Frizz and Hank talking offhandedly, well before you and Poe were a thing. Both of them sure that Sana and Poe were dating or ‘knocking boots’ as Frizz had so elegantly put it. 
“Two people can just be friends, you know.” You’d said, trying to hide your little crush on the commander. 
“Yeah,” Frizz laughed, “But not them. You seen them together?” 
Hank chortled. 
Nonsense. You’d brushed it off then. Allowed it to creep into your thoughts when it was dark and the base was quiet. When Poe’s breathing was soft and light behind you, his arm around your waist. 
Him and Sana just made a lot more sense than him and you. 
“Yeah, but not them. You seen them together?” 
Yeah. Now you had. 
The Harbringer came into view over the horizon. The seemingly endless stretch of desert was cut through in the distance by a fearsome outcrop of crocks, leading up into a field of formidable mountains. 
Blue 1-4 were already hooked up to the cargo ship, all five hoovering moving together as they flew towards you to meet. 
You wouldn’t have said things were difficult with you and Poe. Well, you wouldn’t have said that before. It was complicated for everyone on the base, most staff were on different call schedules, off-world or on a mission at all times. Having a relationship wasn’t straightforward. There were stretches where you wouldn’t even be on the same planet for days, but…
But you had thought it was…
It didn’t matter. 
You’d gone back to the briefing room, just before take off. You’d wanted to tap the main holoscreen twice, for luck. A little ritual you’d adopted early on. Most pilots were a superstitious bunch. 
That’s when you’d seen them. Sana and Poe. Locked in a tight embrace, their lips pressed together in a deep kiss. 
Your heartbeat had thundered so loud you’d been surprised they hadn’t heard it. But they’d been too preoccupied to notice your presence. 
It was cliche but time had almost slowed, calmed and stretched like the moment you take aim, the second before you fired your ship's canons. 
A flash of the control panel had flickered into your mind when you saw them, your fingers twitching as if you had the trigger in your hands. 
You’d turned and left without a sound. Without a word. Without letting them know you saw. Leaving them to… whatever they did next. 
Was it their first kiss? One of many? Had this been going on well before Poe had taken your hand and led you outside so he could clumsily name all the constellations, making up new ones and backstories to make you smile?
“That one here, you see it?” 
“Yeah?” 
“That one’s the best one, best in the sky. It’s orange and it’s right next to that other orange one, like they’re holding hands.”
You’d laughed. 
“That’s me and you Moonbeam.” 
Moonbeam. That stupid nickname. 
You’d gone to your room quickly, the one that you and Poe shared, and taken off the necklace he’d given you. 
“I want you to wear it for luck, Moonbeam.” 
That stupid smile he’d given you as he’d slipped it from his own neck and onto yours. That stupid kiss he’d given you after. You’d thought that expression was cute when you’d seen it, pure. Now it just seemed like he’d been laughing at you, playing some sick joke. ‘How long can I string someone along?’, ‘how far can I go before they realise it’s all pretend?’ 
You’d left the necklace with the ring slipped through on the small set of shelves in the corner, the one Poe normally kept his holopad on. 
It was idiotic, but your neck felt… empty without it. Cold. Every now and then you touched at where the chain normally lay.A subconscious action only brought to the forefront of your mind by the sensation of your own skin instead of metal. 
Something caught your eye in the distance, a flash of sunlight glinting off the horizon. Dread twisted in your stomach as realisation dawned a second earlier than your scanners. The extra gravitational pressure and high quantity of magnetic metals in the sand affected everyone’s ship computers, causing a brief information delay. 
Your alarm sounded out inside your ship, the radar blinking into life as tie fighters approached from the rock outcrop. They’d used the high mineral concentration to hide their energy signatures. 
“Fuck.” 
The radio screamed into life, orders out pouring over orders. Blue squadron rushed into position while Green scrambled. 
“Blue in place now!”
“It’s gonna be rushed, but we haven’t got a choice!”
“No time!” “Incoming!” “Green half split! Evens left, odds right, let’s keep those fighter’s off The Harbringer and Blue squadron! Gamma pattern!” 
“How far away is the Delta?” 
“Calling in attack pattern!” 
You swing to the right, falling in with Hank and Petal and bank hard, it takes less than a second for you to notice that your squad's movements aren’t as precise and well-timed as usual. The stronger gravity throwing everyone, except you, off their game. 
That didn’t bode well. 
You climb for a second, punching hard on the acceleration to get some height and a clear view of the oncoming and flick on your targeting system. The image glitches, doesn’t hold steady even as you focus. Off by half a fraction. 
Shots fire out from both sides, most missing.
“Targeting not working!”
“It’s out!”
“I can’t get a clear shot!” “The read is malfunctioning!”
“Half a click 4/8!” You shout, as you take your shot, hitting two tie fighters head-on. 
“Good shot Green 7!” You can hear the joy and relief in Sana’s voice. “Half a click 4/8, you’ll all have to manually adjust!” 
You dive, swirling around two fighters before skimming close to the ground, trying to draw their attention away from the cargo ship. You spin, slamming your control harder than you would need to in any other situation as you turn and spike past another fighter, taking out one in the process. 
“Wooooo!” Hank yells over the intercom.
You laugh. “Bet you never thought you wished you grew up on Para right?” 
“Every day new things surprise me.” He banks left, you right, Petal dives down. 
It’s too much of a rush, everything all at once, patterns and shots flying, your ship’s systems screaming as you push the engines a little too hard. 
The tie fighters aren’t moving as fast as they normally do, bogged down even more than the x wings by the gravity. They can’t make their normal quick turns and it’s affecting their strike patterns. 
Good. 
But there’s so, so many of them. 
Explosions fly debris out, and you climb higher. Needing a clear view and unable to rely on your targeting systems. 
More shots fly out, The Harbringer is taking a battering but so far its shielding is holding the hull together. 
The radio keeps screaming, overlapping voices that blur into background noise. You’re trained to only hear your call signal, direct messages. You vear off, narrowingly missing a blast to your wing. 
“-On my tail.” Frizz’s voice cuts through the noise, a sharp stab of dread slicing you open as you turn, automatically looking to the reader, it’s still not clear. 
You climb, twist, fall, see a Green ship, followed tightly by two fighters. Accelsorate, bank. You fire. You’re aiming in a panic now, not adjusting right, not breathing through. 
The shot hits one, before you have to swerve to avoid being struck head-on. 
“Thanks 7!” Cril yells over the speaker, managing to shake the other fighter. 
There’s a scream, a crackle of sound over the system. A sound you know too well. You see the ship crash into the desert, exploding before it even hits the ground as the a tie fighter’s shots hit home. 
Frizz.
“No…” 
“Check!” Sana yells, unable to tell who went down with the system glitching. “Green Leader!”
You swerve around another fighter, everything moving so fast, too fast.
“Green Two check!” Cril.
“Green Three check!” Petal. 
Nothing. 
“Green Four!” Sana yells. No call replies. Balna. Not Frizz. 
The momentary rush of relief at Frizz being alive is cut horribly short by the image of Balna’s kind face that bursts behind your eyes. 
You bank left, right, swerve, take aim, twist. 
There’s a chance, a good chance that you’ll win. All of Blue is in place, The Harbringer is moving up with them. The tie fighters are taking more hits than the resistance, their less aerodynamic design hampering them more than usual with this gravity. 
All you need is…
Another alarm. 
“Oh… fuck.” You slam on your intercom. “Z-Fighter!” 
A chorus of yells answer you. 
A Z-fighter, a quick moving ship a fraction bigger than The Harbringer, with two powerful front guns. A few shots would take the cargo ship out completely. 
And with how slow the supply ship was moving, that wouldn’t be hard. 
The Z-fighter storms in, moving fast but not firing, they were obviously having problems with their targeting too, needing a close clear shot. 
“Take out the main cannons!” Sana yells, the panic in her voice cutting through the chaos. You turn, aim, take out a tie fighter but have to veer up at the last second. Twist. 
Someone comes in after you, aiming for the cannons, a fighter clips their side and they can’t correct quick enough. They spiral off, their ship crashing into the Z-fighter. Obliterated on impact. The Z-fighter seemingly unaffected. 
You loop back, adrenaline blinding you to everything, anything that’s not the goal. Take out the canons. Take out the canons. People are counting on you. Take out the canons. 
You fire, a clear shot before you bank to the side to avoid a direct hit to your hull. 
It’s not enough.
You need to pass again, and again. Other x wings flying in, taking shots, the gravity making them slow, imprecise. Only one blast hits and it’s not full on.You’re the only one hitting directly and it’s not enough. 
It’s not enough. It’s not enough. It’s not enough.
There’s shouting and screaming, the zipping of the fighters as they cut through the sky. Someone yells your name and you don’t hear it. 
Another hit lands. One canon out. Only one left. You can do this. The Harbringer is nearly in the upper atmosphere, they can jump from there. Just a few more seconds. You can do this.
“Black Leader!” Poe’s call sign cuts over the dim, followed by the call signs of half of the Red Squadron.
They must have scrambled after first contact. 
The canon’s powering up, a quick glance to your panel tells you that The Harbringer’s shield is barely functioning. They won’t survive a direct hit. With how close they are and the Blue Squadron ships that are attached there’s no way they wouldn’t be pulled down too if The Harbringer fell. 
The canon needs more than one hit to take it down, more than five. No way you can shoot five times before they fire. 
You twist, full force. Pumping the acceleration. Fire. Fire. Fire. Three hit. You don’t slow down. Fire. Fire. Fire. They hit. The canon is still operational. 
Sana is screaming orders, so many shots fire at the canon, none of them hit right, hit full on. 
Two chances left. 
One to fire. If it takes out the canon you just have enough time to serve up, to avoid getting smashed to bits. 
Poe shouts for you over the intercom. 
You don’t answer.
One to fire. If it doesn’t take out the canon then… then you crashing into it head on will. 
Poe yells again, this time cutting over everyone else, sending you a direct call. 
You don’t answer.
You fire. Hit. 
Poe screams for you, his voice painful and panicked. He’s already worked out your plan before you had even thought of it. 
The canon doesn’t go down. 
You cut the call to him. Blocking out his signal. You don’t want Poe to think you did this for him. 
You don’t want him to think you did this because of him.
“Green Seven!” Sana yells, seemingly knowing what you’re going to do. 
Hank screams your name over the radio. It hurts. You think it’s the worst sound you’ve ever heard. 
“Moonbeam!” Poe’s voice is ripped raw from yells, Sana has patched him through over her signal. You were wrong. That was the worst sound you’ve ever heard. 
You dip at the last second, not hitting the canon straight on but smashing your right wing into it. The force surprises you, even though you braced for it. The impact sending you spiralling. You try to regain control, try to turn into the spin. Training taking over even though you're a wing and half a ship down. 
Shouts over the radio, you barely make out- 
“-cannon’s down-”
“-Jump!-”
A spark hits, your console explodes into flame, shards hit your side and you yell. Sky and sand tumbling over each other over and over, and you manage to hit the eject button.
The force rips you upwards, free briefly from your burning ship. But you’re too close to the floor, not enough time to slow down your velocity. There’s-
.
The impact of the ground hurts. Pain explodes along every nerve despite the ejection seat dampening. You scream. 
Agony is everywhere, everything. You can’t feel anything else, can’t comprehend anything except floods of pain. 
You hit your belt, falling out and to the desert floor. Looking up just enough to gauge where you are, where your ship fell. It’s an exploded, fireball mess far off. At least it’s not an immediate threat. You crawl to the side and sob. 
There’s blood falling into the sand from your head, the right side of your face. You can’t see properly out of your eye and your left leg is definitely broken. Shattered. Still, you drag yourself forward, digging your hands in and pulling as something ribs and tears in your side, warm liquid soaking into your fight suit. 
The resistance will jump to hyperspace, they’ll get out. They’ll make it. 
You just needed to get away from your ejection seat, when the First Order doubles back they’ll see it, they’ll see you. You just needed to get to an outcrop. Hide. 
Make it look like you had a weapon. 
Make them shoot you first instead of taking you for questioning. 
Can’t let them take you alive. 
There's the faint sound of a ship somewhere above, landing gear coming down. 
For a second you freeze, panic gripping your heart, you dig into the sand hard, pull, pull, pull  yourself closer towards the outcrop of rocks. The air seems to be leaving your lungs, your breathing ragged and hot. 
You cough, red hitting the dirt, iron hitting your tongue. 
You crawl, pull. The pain is making you light-headed. You gasp, trying to get in a full lung full of air. It's not enough. It's not enough. It's not enou…
.
When you open your eyes your first thoughts are simple. Clear. 
I'm dead.
You were either shot in the head in the sand or simply succumbed to your wounds. 
But then things begin to feel… fuzzy. Not painful, but not right either.
And that's when you smell the Bacta. And then the light starts to change to distorted shapes, and finally, you recognise Hank sitting next to you.
“You better not be dead too,” you whisper your voice dry from lack of use. 
Hank jumps up, goes to grab your hand and then stops himself. There are tears in his eyes. He softly places his fingers on yours and you squeeze back. 
“You're a fucking idiot you know that?” He grins and you laugh. Which hurts a little, but feels good. 
“One sec,” he moves away just to speak to someone outside before he comes back. “I'm the one that picked you up, you know?” 
“Now who's the fucking idiot?” You smile but your chest aches, heavy with the weight of his words. “You shouldn't have done that.” You whisper. 
“What?”
“You were under fire, you should have just jumped-” 
“I saw you eject. Saw you moving. You think I was just gonna leave you there?” He sits. “Besides, I was closest. The commander would have blown up the whole planet to get to you.” 
You swallow, turning away slightly. Going cold at the mention of Poe. 
Hank mistakes the look for guilt, and squeezes your hand again. “Hey, look,” he smiles, “you took out the canons, you're a fucking idiot but you know how to fly in heavy gravity.” 
You snort. 
He smiles. 
“Who did we lose?” 
Hank sighs, “three…”
You nod, closing your eyes for a moment. 
“There-”
There was shouting from outside, a crash and then Poe stormed into the room, med staff close behind him.
You swallow, sickness building in your throat.
He looked awful, drawn out and worn thin like he hadn't slept or eaten in days. His eyes red. 
He rushes forward, Hank moves out of the way, so Poe can take your hand in his. He leans forward and kisses you softly, carefully stroking your cheek, being gentle with your bandages. 
“Moonbeam…” he mutters and you flinch back from him. He looks at you with sad, confused eyes. 
“Look, I can only allow one visitor in here.” The med staff member says.
Hank stands, and speaks when you frown. “I'll see you later, Poe’s the one that hasn't left your side. The only reason he wasn't here when you woke was because I made him go take a shower.” Hank smiled, “you can thank me for that later.” 
Both you and Poe are quiet as the others leave. Poe searching your face for something, while you look away. 
“Moonbeam,” he says again softly, but there's an edge to his words that you're not used to. “What the fuck happened on that mission? What the fuck is this?” He holds up his hand, his necklace and ring wrapped around his palm. His eyes are shiny as he speaks. “Were you trying to kill yourself? What the fu-”
“Poe,” you breathe. Best to get it over quickly. “I saw.”
He frowns. “Saw? Saw what?” 
“You and Sana, in the briefing room… before take off.” 
The small frown on his forehead relaxes slightly for a moment as his eyebrows raise. “You… saw?” 
You nod. 
“You, but, I didn’t see you when I pushed her away?” His voice cracks at the end, a splinter running into the muscle of your heart. 
“You pushed her away?” 
“You didn’t see that?” He frowns again, blinking hard, “you just, just saw and walked away and what? Took this off?” He holds up the necklace again. A tear falls from his eye and he rubs it away furiously as if it had scorched his skin. “Just, just left it and… and…” 
“I didn’t know you didn’t want it…” You say quietly, emotion is making your chest tight and constricted. “I didn’t know you didn’t want her…”
“What?” He breathes, moving closer and squeezing your hand. There’s disbelief in his voice, confusion. Anger, it’s deep down and controlled but it’s there. “No, look, she kissed me. I pushed her away, I, I even logged a report, I’ll pull up the god damned camera feed to show you.” 
He’s not lying. His gaze is unwavering and he’s got that painfully earnest look in his eyes. 
“You thought…” he shakes his head slightly, his voice pained, “you thought I’d-”
“You both make sense together.” You blurt out. “She’s… and you’re…” you shrug and sigh, on the verge of tears yourself. “You’re both the best of us.”
“No,” he shakes his head fiercely, “Moonbeam, no.” He wipes roughly at his eyes again, glancing down for a moment and you lightly touch his head. 
He looks up instantly as you stroke his curls, still lightly damp. 
“I’m sorry.” You whisper.
Poe shakes his head again, grabbing your hand and kissing your wrist. “I’m sorry.” He kicks off his shoes and clambers into bed next to you a little awkwardly. He’s trying to be careful, trying not to hurt you but needing closeness so badly it’s suffocating. 
You scooch to the side as quickly as you can in your current state and lean into him as he wraps his body around you softly and kisses you sweetly. 
“Love you, love you, love you,” he repeats after every kiss, pressing his lips to every part of your skin that he can reach.
“Why are you sorry?” You mutter as he holds you, “I’m the one that messed up.”
He shakes his head, “I’m sorry that I don’t make you realise how special you are, how perfect.” He kisses your cheek, “you’re the best of us Moonbeam.” 
You tut but his grip tightens and he holds you tight. 
“And one hell of a pilot.” He grins. 
You scoff. 
“You are.” He kisses you again. 
You nuzzle against him, settling into his touch. Knots have formed in your chest, pain that’s loosening. His warmth is comforting. Home. 
“Sana said she didn’t know I was in a relationship,” he says softly, resting his chin on the top of your head. “I don’t know if that’s true, but… I do believe her.” 
You nod. “She’s a good person.”
He moves so he can look you in the eyes. “Please, Moonbeam, I… don’t,” he bites his tongue, closing his eyes for a long second. “I want to tell you, I want to say, don’t ever do something like that again… don’t… don’t put yourself at risk.” 
You touch his cheek lightly. 
“But it’s not fair is it?” He smiles sadly. “We both do that every day… You know you were gonna be in my squadron at first?” 
You shake your head in surprise and he nods.
“You were, but… well,” he blushes ever so slightly. “I was so embarrassingly head over heels in love with you,” he laughs lightly. “For months I could hardly talk to you, you know I had to down five Polanis Red’s in a row after Hurthwen just so I could ask you out? I knew I wouldn’t be able to function right if you were in my squad. I knew that I’d put everyone else at risk because if it came down to it… if there was a choice between everyone in the squad dying, everyone on the base, or you… I’d let the resistance burn instead of lose you. Every single time.” 
You close your eyes, fighting the emotion that needs to break through and squeeze his hand like a lifeline. “I love you.” You whisper. 
Your fingertips brush against the necklace, the ring hooking around the first knuckle of your index finger by chance. 
Poe slowly moves his hand from yours and unwinds the necklace from his palm before carefully placing it over your head, giving you plenty of time to move away if you wanted. 
“I love you Moonbeam,” he mutters, his voice low, reverent. Then leans in to kiss you. You kiss him back with all your heart. 
____________________________________
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the-little-ewok · 7 months
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An Unorthodox Method
Poe Dameron x F!Reader
Rating : 18+/E
Word count : 7600 (ish)
Warnings : It's the one bed trope!, Lil mild angst, lots of teasing, Poe being an adorable little shit, mentions of Poe having hearing problems/being partially deaf in one ear, fluff, banter, SMUT, PIV, fingering, marking (love bites and nail marks), praise kink if you squint, illusions to cum eating, mentions of oral f- receiving, overstimulation if you blink, aftercare, very brief mention of casual sex/one night stands.
Summary : All you want is a hot shower, some clean dry clothes, and to crawl into bed. What you absolutely do not want is Poe Dameron in that bed with you.
@campingwiththecharmings thank you so much for this request! I'm so excited to finally do the one bed trope for Poe! I hope you like it.
Special thank you to @mandinlore for the beta 😘
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~~~~~~~~~
The rain hammers a steady ping ping ping on the window as you and Poe stand in the doorway to the room, your clothes soaked and sticking uncomfortably to your skin, your shoes leaving puddles of water.
"You have got to be kidding me!" You groan as Poe laughs.
You had been looking forward to a hot shower, a nice warm bed, and at least a good few hours of peace and quiet. The last part had already been thwarted by the fact some error in the hotel booking meant you only had one room with no others available, and now to add insult to injury there was only one damn bed.
"Well, this is going to be fun!" The pilot chirps happily from beside you, walking in to dump his bag on the chair and leaving wet boot prints in his wake.
Climbing into bed with the resistance's best looking pilot, who you were, if you were honest, a little bit in love with, did not constitute as fun. In fact, after the day you had spent with him, it was the very last thing you wanted to do.
Poe was always, and had always, been chatty, but today he seemed to have turned all his dials up to maximum. He'd talked non stop, made unfunny jokes, inappropriate innuendos that with anyone else you suspect he wouldn't have gotten away with, and done just about anything he could to make himself the most annoying person this side of the galaxy.
For what reason, you had no idea. You had started to suspect perhaps he had realised your warm feelings towards him, and maybe this was his way of making you hate him so he didn't have to let you down, and honestly, you might think it was starting to work.
Trudging into the room, your boots squelching with each step, you place your bags down, resigned to your probably sleepless fate.
"You want the bathroom first?" The pilot offers, despite the fact he's worse off than you, having given you his jacket to hold above your head the moment the downpour started. It hadn't helped much after the first few minutes, but you had been grateful for the shelter anyway.
You don't really register his question, your thoughts lost as you finger the worn leather coat remembering the way his scent clung to it, invading your senses as you splashed through the flooded streets.
"Hey," you look up to find the pilot watching you, his brow furrowed. "You okay?"
You drop the jacket onto the dresser, giving him a smile and a nod.
"Just sick of listening to you."
Poe snorts with laughter, grabbing the hem of his shirt and peeling it up over his head. You purposely busy yourself pulling out some dry clothes from your pack , not allowing yourself to peek, although it's a difficult battle.
"There's nobody you love listening to more than me," Poe states, thankfully not seeming to notice your internal fight of keeping your eyes off him.
You sigh, somewhat thankful his annoying cockyness is a distraction from his semi-nakedness. Picking up your sleepwear and wash bag you head towards the bathroom, trying to ignore him. Poe however gives you no quarter, trailing along behind you.
"So what exactly are the sleeping arrangements going to be?" He asks.
Frowning you turn around, your eyes deciding to flicker over his bared torso before meeting his gaze. Even the smallest glance is enough to get blood rushing through your veins, and you can feel heat blossoming across your cheeks.
Ignoring the feeling you gesture to the bed with a raise of your eyebrow.
"But what if you snore?" The pilot asks, clearly not noticing your desire to leave the room until he's decided to put some clothes on.
You pull a face, not quite understanding his issue when he's half deaf from the war anyway. The explosion that had damaged most of the resistance ships had permanently damaged his eardrums, which Poe liked to use to his advantage when he decided he wasn't going to listen to someone, although you think he hears far more than he lets on.
"Poe, you can hardly hear out of one ear as it is! Just sleep on your good ear and you probably won't hear a thing out of the other one."
He folds his arms stubbornly. "I'll hear if you're right next to my head."
"Then you are more than welcome to sleep in the bathroom once I'm done," you offer, stepping into the tiny fresher.
"Nah, I'd rather sleep in the bed. But what if you steal the covers?"
"Then you can take them back."
"What if you cuddle me in your sleep?" He fires quickly.
You give him a withering look, trying not to think about pressing your body against his, keeping your eyes trained on his face.
"Oh trust me Poe, I won't." In fact you will do everything possible not to touch him, just for your own sanity.
"But you might. I'm very into consent and if I'm asleep-" he pauses mid sentence, opening his mouth and then closing it again before leaning against the door frame. "Actually scratch all of that. I absolutely give you consent to do whatever you like to me."
The pilot grins at you and you feel a familiar surge of heat through your body, collecting and coiling in your abdomen. Combined with your patience finally snapping, it's the last straw. You slam the bathroom door in his handsome smug face.
The lukewarm shower really tops off the day.
~
"I've been thinking" Poe starts the moment he exits the bathroom, after loudly complaining through the door about you using up all the hot water.
You pinch the bridge of your nose with a sigh, the hope that he would have calmed down and go straight to sleep evaporating. You are grateful however that he's at least finally put a shirt on.
"That must hurt."
"Oi!" He protests with a shocked expression, that at least brings a little smile to your lips. He grins at you, letting you know he took no offence at your words.
"As I was saying," he continues while you lay out his clothes to dry, the ones he dumped in a wet pile in the middle of the floor. "I've been thinking, and I know what's wrong with you. I want you to know it's okay."
The way his voice suddenly goes so gentle makes you look around. The pilot holds out his hand, wrapping his fingers around yours as he pulls you closer, holding your gaze steadily. You hope he doesn't notice the way your breath catches, or the heat blazing through you that makes your hands clammy.
"It's okay to be nervous," he continues, while your mouth goes dry. "I know spending the night with me is a lot, and it's going to be so difficult for you to keep your hands to yourself, but we are going to get through this together, and you'll be able to tell everyone about it when we get home."
You snatch your hand angrily out of his while the pilot bursts into laughter.
"Grow up and get in the damn bed!" You growl, climbing into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin and turning over away from him, your heart thundering in your chest. How, even when he was joking, did he manage to get so damn close to the truth?
"Why do you want me in bed so badly, huh? Thinking about late night cuddles?" You hear the pilot ask, feeling the mattress sink with his weight.
"No. When you're asleep, you're not talking," you bite out, still stinging from the embarrassment of your reaction when he was just being his usual annoying self.
Poe ignores your hostility and you feel him shrug.
"Listen, all I'm trying to do is tell you that we could eliminate some of this sexual tension. Well, if you wanted to."
Sexual tension wasn't exactly what you would say was between you, but there was always certainly something, although with Poe you imagine he had that with everyone. With you though, your feelings for the pilot ran a little deeper, not that you'd ever dare speak those aloud. The last thing you needed was the "it's not you, it's me" speech, especially if his behaviour was to drive you away. Best to let sleeping dogs lie.
You run a hand down your face with an exasperated sigh. "There is absolutely no sexual tension, Poe. What there is, is murderous tension."
Poe lets out an exclamation of excitement.
"Oh my favourite kind!"
You bite the inside of your cheek to stop a smile, lest you encourage him to continue.
"Please Poe, go to damn sleep," you whine, pulling the pillow from under your head and pressing it against your ear, trying to block out his incessant rambling.
"I will if you admit it."
"Admit what?" You groan, frustrated. Why can't he just shut the hell up and let you get through this?
"That you've thought about us."
"Poe I swear-" you take a deep breath, grabbing the cushion with one hand, rolling over with the intent on smothering him into silence. You're surprised to find the pilot on his side, almost nose to nose with you in the small bed.
"You've seriously never thought about us kissing?" Poe interrupts.
"I…I…" you’re thrown by his closeness, by his long lashes and soft smile, by the damn doe eyed look he's giving you.
You know there's no shutting him up until you tell him what he wants to hear so you take a breath. It wouldn't exactly be news to him, Poe knew just about everyone had considered kissing him at some point or another. The man did come with a reputation for having a rather skillful mouth after all.
"Fine! Maybe once or twice. Now go to damn sleep!" You growl, annoyed at him, and yourself.
The shit eating grin he gives you is enough to make you turn back over, tucking the pillow under your head and shutting your eyes tightly, as though that alone might drown him out.
"I knew it," he gloats with a happy sigh, clicking off the bedside lamp.
You grip the pillow, considering the option you still have of smothering him.
Thankfully he's quiet from that point and infuriatingly asleep in less than five minutes. You can feel the mattress move with his slow steady breaths.
Glancing over your shoulder he's laid out on his back, one arm tucked under his head, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he dreams, his full lips open with a soft sigh.
Turning around again you punch the lumpy pillow, trying to get more comfortable.
You will not think about kissing him. That was a one time thing. Okay, maybe three or four. Well maybe more… a lot more. You're determined tonight for once, you will not fall asleep thinking about his mouth on yours, you will absolutely not think about his lips on your skin, or his fingers caressing your breasts…
Someone suddenly shakes you and you open your eyes groggily, the room swimming and blurred as you blink sleep from your vision.
"What the hell?" You grumble, looking up at the pilot with his sleep tousled curls, still half asleep himself, one eye still shut and the other half open, bathed in the soft moonlight glow that sneaks through the blinds.
"You said my name," he mumbles, voice still sleep gravelled. "You alright?"
Flashes of his mouth sealed over your nipple, his tongue darting out to lick a path down to your navel, your hand gripping his hair, his mouth between your thighs.
Oh no. You absolutely did not have a sex dream about him. Not now, not here. Please no!
"You must have dreamt it," you swallow, desperately trying to play it cool. If Poe heard you while he was dead asleep, then you must have been loud. You feel the heat prickling the back of your neck.
"No, I definitely heard you say Poe," he insists.
"Well even if I did I'm fine so you can go back to sleep," you insist, shifting your legs restlessly. You're too warm. Well not just warm, burning hot, sweat cooling on your skin, an uncomfortable ache between your legs that screams of unsatisfied desire.
"You sure? You sounded a bit…breathless?" The pilot asks again, genuine concern in his tone. Although you can barely see him in the dim lighting you can still see the frown pulling his brows together, both eyes now open and studying you. You really don't want him to press any further. Even his voice brings back flashes of the dream, sultry whispers in your ear, his tongue lapping at your folds, the cry of his name from your mouth.
You swallow again, pushing the thoughts away.
"Really, I'm fine. Must have been a nightmare if it involved you anyway."
"Ouch." He holds his hands over his chest, collapsing back onto the mattress as though you wounded him, giving a long drawn out dramatic death rattle.
Pulling up the covers you throw them over his head with a laugh.
"Go back to sleep, Flyboy."
Laying back you shuffle as close to the edge as you can, putting as much distance as possible between you and the pilot. You wonder if it would be better for you to stay awake, just in case your dreams come back to haunt you. You absolutely wouldn't get away with saying his name a second time.
"It's okay you know," Poe speaks suddenly into the darkness as you lay rigid beside him. "If you were dreaming about me. I wouldn't mind."
You can't help but snort with laughter at that.
"You wouldn't mind if anyone dreams about you."
"True," Poe admits. You feel him shift and even though you can't see him, your eyes staring up at the ceiling, his gaze burns you.
"Let me rephrase. I'd like it if you dreamt about me." He continues.
When you don't turn to face him or grace him with an answer, you feel the shift of the mattress again as he lays back.
"I'm sorry," he sighs, and for once it sounds genuine, not a hint of playfulness in his tone. "I thought this would cheer you up. It's been a long week and you've just seemed so… I don't know. Not yourself, like you're bottling everything up. I figured maybe if you were thinking about how annoying I was, or making you laugh and fight with me, it would give you a bit of a distraction and an outlet, but I get it, maybe I took it too far, even if it is the truth."
It had been a long week, the longest in fact. While the mission itself had been a success, you had seen a lot of the First Order's destruction in the process, and it was worse than either of you had realised. You'd felt melancholy for days, the sights you've witnessed replaying in your mind. You hadn't noticed it much at the time, too lost in your own thoughts and angry that he was so loud that it was impossible to hear yourself think, but the more you think about it, the more you realise what he's been doing — trying to make you smile, keeping you distracted, making you focus on anything but what's happened. All you've done is complain to him about it.
Guilt twists hard in your stomach.
How typical of Poe to try and be helpful in the most unconventional way.
Part of you wants to reach for him, to cuddle him tight against you and thank him, to tell him you're here for him too if he needs someone. The other part keeps you rigidly pinned to the mattress, afraid to move in case so much as a finger brushes up against him, unsure if you can hold yourself back with the lingering memory of the dream.
"You mean the truth is that you really are worried I snore?" You ask, trying to break the unbearable tension.
His answer is the most serious he's sounded all day. There isn't a trace of humour, of teasing, just a tiredness, the kind that comes from pretending to smile all day, the kind that signals a surrender.
"No, I could live with that. I mean the dreaming part. I'd like it if you dreamt about me."
"Oh." You can't find anything else to say to that, your heart hammering so loudly in your chest you're sure even through his damaged ear he can hear it.
The ongoing silence suddenly feels heavy, like a crushing weight on your chest, the truth feels like lead in your belly. Poe hasn't made a single noise in a while but you get the distinct feeling he isn't asleep. You wonder if he's laying still too, muddling through his thoughts.
You can't take back your behaviour towards him but you can at least give him something in return.
"Poe?"
The response is instant, "Yeah?"
You take a breath, swallowing hard, your fingers twisting into the sheet at the edge of the bed, nervously gripping them.
"Every day," you whisper quietly.
"Huh?"
You feel a slight shift as he must turn to look at you.
You clear your throat, staring hard enough at the ceiling that your eyes start to burn, repeating yourself louder.
"I said every day. I lied earlier. It's not once or twice. I think about kissing you every day. I have for a while," you admit.
A sudden blinding light obscures your vision, making you cry out in surprise and squeeze your eyes shut against the sudden intrusion. Coloured lights flash behind your eyelids and you have to blink a few times in order to see anything.
When the room comes back into focus Poe is sitting bolt upright in the bed, staring down at you, the bedside lamp illuminating his head like a synthetic halo.
"You were dreaming about me!"
With a groan you grab the pillow and hold it over your own face, deciding if you can't smother him you could just smother yourself instead, which seems like the better option than actually having this conversation.
You feel the pillow tug back gently, but you hold fast, refusing to give it up.
"Come on, let go and talk to me. You've said it now." A grunt of effort and a hard tug on the pillow before Poe sighs. "I'm not going away so you're either going to suffocate or talk."
"Then I'll suffocate," you mumble into the pillow, already regretting saying anything.
"You know I can't hear you right? Come on." This time he tucks his fingers under yours and peels them off the pillow cover until it falls halfway off your face.
"Better," he smiles, letting go of your hands to remove it entirely. "Why are you hiding from me?"
"I don't want to see your smug smile about how right you are," you glare, trying to hide your embarrassment that you've blurted out exactly what you've been trying to conceal from him. Once more, Poe takes your attitude in his stride.
"I've thought about kissing you too, you know? In fact I've thought about kissing you at least four times since you woke me up." He gives a shrug, like you should know that, like it's completely utterly normal for someone to think about kissing you that many times in the space of ten minutes.
You bite your lip, familiar tendrils of desire reigniting in your belly. Your body, still clearly on edge from your illicit dream, thrums with tension.
"So why haven't you done it yet?"
Poe rolls his eyes, as though the answer is obvious. "Clearly I'm building up the sexual tension for it!"
You're done letting him have the upper hand in this. In a surge of confidence, and to stop the smug look on his face, you wrap your hand around the back of the pilot's neck, before you pull his lips to yours. You feel Poe's brief smile, probably of victory, against your mouth before he kisses you back.
It's soft at first, almost sweet tender kisses, short and playful, getting to know each other. He kisses your top and bottom lip, he gives you tiny pecks of affection, he licks playfully at your bottom lip.
Effortlessly he shifts his weight over you, slotting himself between your thighs as though you were made to fit together. His tongue licks into your mouth, slick and hot, sliding against your own as he presses his body against yours, your kisses descending into something much more passionate.
Maker, the rumours weren't wrong. He is good at this, better than good actually, infuriatingly good. You can't even find any fault to tease him about.
You tangle your fingers in his curls, tugging gently and causing the pilot to moan into your mouth. You give a shiver of desire at the sound, your mind filled with thoughts of how you can draw it from him in other ways. Poe's mind seems to be on a similar track, his hips grinding against yours, pressing himself against your core and causing you to let out a gasp of surprise at the jolt of pleasure.
Perhaps there was a little sexual tension after all.
The pilot pulls away, his chest heaving, eyes dark and lips kiss swollen, his curls messy and tousled from your fingers.
"Fuck, sorry. I didn't mean to get carried away so quickly," he apologises, swallowing hard as he clearly tries to get a handle on himself, holding his body off yours, allowing a brief respite for you both to collect yourselves.
"I don't mind getting carried away," you admit, still feeling feverish with his closeness, your mind filled with the fantasy of your dreams. You raise your hips, pressing up against his clothed length, making the pilot let out a choked moan of surprise before his eyes darken.
"Well in that case," he grins, recovering all too quickly. Desire coils in your belly and before you can drag his mouth back to yours, in true Poe fashion, he continues talking. "Why don't you tell me what I was doing in this dream of yours?"
You give him a coy smile. As if he's going to get it out of you that easily.
"Fulfilling my deepest fantasy," you answer as Poe licks his lips, eagerly leaning forward to listen.
"Oh yeah? What fantasy might that be?"
"You were quiet for a whole five minutes," you sigh dreamily. It takes a second to register with him before he leans back bursting out laughing. You can't help but start to giggle yourself.
"Okay, I deserved that!" He laughs. "My methods may be unorthodox, but they work!"
He was entirely correct in that him being his usual annoying self was exactly what you had needed as a distraction, although you're sure there were less annoying ways to achieve the same means.
"I don't know. I actually considered murdering you at least a few times. Maybe I still will, when you're fast asleep and least expecting it," you warn, running a finger along your throat in a playful threat.
Poe hums, leaning back down over you, caging you to the bed with his arms.
"What exactly makes you think either of us will be going back to sleep?"
Oh.
There's another rush of heat that tingles against your skin, shooting straight down to your aching core. It's not at all helped by the fact Poe leans down to capture your lips, his tongue slipping between your teeth as he moves one hand to grip your hip, sliding it slowly up your body and under your shirt to trail his fingers across your breast.
You moan into his mouth as he rolls your peaked nipple between his fingers, grinding yourself up against him, uncaring of whatever commentary he wants to make as long as you can deal with this rapidly intensifying desire.
When he finally pulls away once more it's hard to get your breath, especially as he continues to steal little kisses from you, his fingers still resting against your skin.
Bracing himself on one arm above you, the other slides down to tiptoe over your hip.
"Do I have your consent to remove these ugly pants?" He grins teasingly, pulling at the waistband of your shorts. They had seen better days in all fairness but you hadn't really considered anyone else seeing them.
"Hey, they aren't that bad! Not like you're the pinnacle of fashion." In retaliation you poke your finger through a hole in the leg of his threadbare sleep pants, making the pilot laugh.
"These are my lucky pants."
You can't help but snort with a roll of your eyes. "That's the stupidest thing I've heard."
Poe raises one eyebrow, a smug smile tugging at his lips.
"They got you into my bed didn't they?"
You scoff, "The hotel management got me into this bed."
"You know what, you're right. Maybe I should go thank them now," Poe muses, his grin turning into a laugh as you wrap your arms around him, preventing him from leaving.
"Will you please just stop talking?" You laugh, wondering how much of the night is even left. You swear if the sun rises and you haven't resolved this, you will combust of need, and you will take the pilot out with you.
Poe raises his eyebrows.
"Well, I would, but you still haven't answered my original question."
You stare at him, trying to figure out what exactly he's talking about before you realise.
"For the love of… Yes Poe, I give you consent to do whatever you want to me as long as you stop dragging this out like a massive tease!"
The pilot lets out a soft chuckle, leaning down to brush his nose against yours, a soft gesture in a stark contrast to what leaves his mouth, "dangerous words, sweetheart."
You almost shudder with the flash of desire that bolts through you, making sharp heat rush across your skin and your pussy clench.
"I need you to make me a promise first though," his fingers slip across your abdomen, resting just above the waistband of your pants. The feverish desire at his touch is overshadowed by annoyance that he's still talking. Maker, you swear he won't survive till sunrise.
"Po-
"I'm going to need you to be loud," he purrs in your ear, cutting you off as his hand slips under your waistband. "I don't want to miss a single noise you make."
Even if you wanted to be quiet, the pad of his finger slipping across your clit causes your body to react in a primal way, letting out an embarrassing loud moan for such a little touch.
Poe chuckles.
"Just like that." He praises, sliding his finger down further to dip into your entrance, letting out a soft groan of his own at how wet you are, before he drags it back up, spreading your slick over your aching clit and making you whine again. "Can you do that for me? Can you be loud enough?"
The best you can muster is a whimper as he slowly thrusts his finger knuckle deep into you.
"Nu-huh," Poe chides, "loud."
A second finger quickly joins the first, stretching your walls and filling you more than your own ever could. This time you arch your back off the bed, chasing the blissful feeling as a much louder groan tears itself from your throat.
"Better," Poe grins. "I heard that one."
You want to smother him, you want to kiss him, but most of all, despite his annoying little smug smile, you still desperately want to fuck him.
You decide on option two, at least for the moment, pulling his lips down to yours.
His tongue licks into your mouth as he thrusts his fingers inside you at a leisurely pace, swallowing each whine and moan you give at the pleasure skittering and coiling in you.
Poe curls his fingers, pressing up against that spot inside you, making you pull away from his kiss to throw your head back in pleasure, a loud groan of his name escaping. You're half expecting him to make some sort of cocky comment, but Poe seems as lost in this as you are. He drops his head to press open mouthed kisses across your neck, biting and sucking, marking and claiming you as his.
When he works a third finger into you, his thumb brushing against your clit, you come undone. Normally you would feel embarrassed about how loud you are, the way your body shudders and heaves, your pussy clenching hard around his fingers, but the shaky little fuck Poe groans in your ear, obliterates any notion of embarrassment.
As you come down from your high, your body still trembling from the aftershock, whining as he slips his fingers from you, you realise he's breathing almost as heavily as you are, his breath coming out in short pants as he looks you over.
"I need to fuck you," he growls, clearly struggling with his own needs.
You're already nodding before he gets halfway through his request. Whatever he needs, whatever he wants, you'll give it to him without hesitation.
He all but tears your pyjamas from you, making short work of removing them and throwing them across the room, before his join the unceremonious pile on the floor.
This time you allow yourself to look, you allow yourself to take in his broad chest, the little scars crisscrossed with a larger one, old and new, your gaze trailing down across his abdomen to the line of hair that guides your eyes down to -
"Are you done admiring?" Poe's amused tone makes your eyes snap back up to his, your face growing warm with embarrassment that you've been caught staring, although you know he has probably done exactly the same to you.
"I don't know about admiring," you shrug as though your pussy isn't pulsing at the thought of him burying his cock deep inside you. "Think the resistance needs to re-evaluate their best looking pilot status."
Poe simply grins at you, seeing through your nonchalance all too clearly.
"Good to know you like what you see. Tell me, how wet did it make you to see me earlier, all soaked and shirtless?"
"Didn't," is all you are able to punch out as he leans down, pressing his body against yours, rolling his hips just slightly so his hard cock brushes against your slick folds, holding himself at your entrance like the tease he is.
"Really?" He smirks, "Somehow I think you are lying. But alright, I'll get the truth out of you, one way or another." The threat gives you a rush of excitement, wondering exactly how he's going to do that. Not that you're going to let him know that so easily.
"Are you going to keep talking or are we going to-" your question cuts off into a gasp of pleasure as he presses himself inside you, slowly, so you can feel every vein and ridge as he stretches your walls.
"Are we going to what?" He grins.
You slap his arm in reply but there's no power behind it, you're too busy concentrating on the wet noise as he pulls out of you before slowly pressing back in, making you whimper in need. The first time your pussy clenches around him it's involuntary, the second time it's just to enjoy the little groan the action draws from the pilot.
"Stop," he warns, his head dropping to your shoulder, clearly trying to steady his breathing as you clench around him a third time, just for fun. "Taking it slow."
"You don't have to take it slow," you assure him. For a moment you think it's sweet he's considering your comfort but you're more than ready for this.
"I want to," he grits as you clench around him again. The tone of his voice lets you know he's digging his stubborn heels in and nothing will change his mind. Even so you need more than he's offering. This has gone on too long, the tension is too much, the need drumming through your veins screams to be sated.
You whine, you beg, you plead, you drag your nails along his back and arch your hips against him, but he doesn't give. He rocks into you slowly, achingly slowly, maddeningly slowly, and for all your initial protests you enjoy every second of it.
The pleasure builds just as slow, each roll of his hips winding the cord tighter and tighter until you're sure you can't take any more, and then it pulls further. You can't do anything but surrender to the bliss it offers, raising your hips to meet his in the hopes his resolve will eventually break.
"You're incredible you know?" He pants against your mouth, sweat beading at his hairline, his curls sticking to his forehead, his eyes hooded and glazed. "Not just at this, but this too."
All you can do is stare at him, somewhat dazed, wondering how he's even thinking in coherent sentences right now, let alone speaking them. Somewhere your subconscious registers his words and it accompanies a host of butterflies in your belly.
"Just you, exactly as you are. You are incredible," he repeats, only this time it comes with a much harder thrust. You arch against him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your head drops back against the pillows.
"Poe, please," you beg, unsure if you are able to take much more. Clearly neither can he, his name on your lips undoing his patience. He wraps his fingers around your thigh, hoisting your leg up over his hip as he sinks deeper into you, picking up the pace.
His hips slam into yours, filling the room with the sound of flesh on flesh, accompanied only by his curses and praises that fall freely and loudly. For all his requests for you to be loud the pilot's own moans are enough to drown yours out.
Working a hand between your bodies you press a finger to your clit, rubbing tight circles around the hardened nub as Poe angles his hips, pressing up against the blissful spot inside you. Your whole body almost arches up off the bed with the combined pleasure catapulting through you, an almost screamed curse fighting its way out of your throat.
Poe groans low and shakily, barely holding his own climax back, his thrusts becoming messy and mistimed.
"That's it baby. Fuck wanna feel you cum, wanna hear you," he groans, completely wrecked.
That's all it takes. Your orgasm hits suddenly and brightly, your whole body writhing and stiffening as the pleasure overtakes you, coursing through your veins like lava, making your vision go white as you tremble through it. Poe had wanted to hear you, but the purely feral noise you let out, you wouldn't be surprised if the whole damn hotel heard you. You're sure Poe would probably enjoy it if they did.
It's almost too much for your oversensitive body to feel Poe thrusting into you faster and harder, chasing his own end, babbled curses and praises falling from his lips. You shake with overstimulation when his hips stutter, emptying himself deep inside you, your nails leaving crescent moons on his shoulders as you cling desperately to him, your thighs trembling, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.
Poe half collapses on you, letting your leg down slowly as he presses soft kisses to your neck, against every love bite he's given you in the heat of the moment. You suspect there may be quite a few questions when you get back to the base tomorrow. Turning your head you press a soft kiss to his cheek, making him lean up to look at you.
"Better than you dreamt?" He grins, still flushed and panting.
"I didn't dream about that," you giggle breathlessly, shaking limbs melting into the mattress, sated and tired. Poe raises his eyebrows, letting out a thoughtful hum before he suddenly pulls out of you, making you whimper and immediately miss the feeling of him inside you.
Shuffling down your body he presses a soft kiss between your breasts. You frown at him, confused by his sudden movement and how he still has so much energy. How is it you're a wrecked mess and he's still acting like he can go another ten rounds? Why can't he just be still for one second?
Another kiss to your ribs, first the right side, then the left, moving slowly down, before he pauses, looking up through his lashes at you.
"You didn't dream about us making love?"
You go to make fun of his choice of language but before you have a chance he licks a hot stripe down to your naval, making your breath catch with the sudden rush of pleasure. You're starting to question if he's able to read your thoughts, if he knows the truth of your dream already. Perhaps you had said more than just his name in your sleep?
"Nope, not about us," you breathe unsteadily, trying to hold yourself back from begging anything from him again. You suspect you know what's coming next and honestly, you're not sure if your body is able to handle it, barely over your first two climaxes. Still you weren't about to give in to his questions, he'd never shut up if you admit it. "Told you, I wasn't dreaming about you."
"You are a terrible liar," Poe states, his hands gripping your thighs, pushing them apart. The rush of cold air against your heated flesh makes you gasp and the pilot smirks, his eyes flickering down to your swollen cunt, leaking with your combined climax before coming back to you, a devilish grin taking over his face.
"'Whatever I want to do to you' still stand?" He asks.
All you can do is nod mutely, a fresh wave of need building despite your exhaustion.
"Good," Poe grins, pinning your thighs to the mattress, preventing you from moving. "Because I'm going to get the truth out of you my way."
He does exactly that. He drags the truth out of you to every question he wants answered and more, twice with his mouth, then again with his cock, reducing you to a babbling trembling mess, willing to tell him whatever he wanted to know, and he's infuriatingly smug about it.
~
Poe had been surprisingly tender afterwards. He'd carefully cleaned you up, brought you a glass of water, massaged your sore muscles, before he'd finally pulled you into his arms, holding you close against him.
Of course you had known Poe was kind, of course you knew he took care of the people he was close to, even those who only spent the night with him. There were enough stories around the base to give you a general idea of that, but for some reason you can't place this felt different, it felt intimate.
What surprised you more than anything was how quiet he was now. Appart from a few murmured words about how good you had been for him, and to check you were alright, he hadn't said much at all. It was almost unnerving after his behaviour all day. Really if you had known this would have shut him up you might have jumped on him hours ago. But now, the silence seems worrying.
"You okay?" You ask, your head still against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat as his fingers draw mindless patterns against your back.
"Yeah, I'm okay. I was just thinking…maybe we can do this again? Sometime soon? Be in the same bed I mean." The pilot asks. He doesn't sound like the cocky confident Flyboy you're expecting. If anything he sounds a little unsure of his own question.
You won't give him the satisfaction of the enthusiastic yes that tries to escape. The last thing you want out of this night is to become some regular casual hook-up. Poe wasn't exactly known for keeping long term relationships, citing the fact it was too difficult during the middle of a war, which you suppose you could understand. He was at least always very clear about that with whoever he got involved with.
Equally you don't want to say no. You want this, him. You want the moments of passion and quiet, you want the teasing and fights, you want more in whatever way you can.
In the end you go for the middle ground, giving him an option of more, while closely guarding yourself against this being a casual fuck.
"Hmm, suppose if you buy me dinner first then I might consider it. I don't make a habit of sleeping with people without dates."
It's disarmingly sweet when he presses a soft kiss to your head, tightening his arm around you. Your chest aches all the more for moments like this.
"Alright. A date it is." You can hear the smile in his voice, sleepy and happy.
You didn't exactly expect him to agree to that so easily, and while it gives you a flutter of hope, you don't quite trust he catches your meaning.
"I said I'd consider, I didn't say I'd agree. I might have other options," you warn, trying to get him to consider what he wants you to be to him.
Poe lets out a soft chuckle.
"You say that like your pretending it wasn't the best fuck of your life, and you're desperate to do it again."
You lean up on your arm to look at him, raising an eyebrow and fixing him with an unimpressed look at his cockyness.
"Tell me I'm wrong," he challenges confidently, "because if I am, then I'm just going to have to keep trying. The aim is to make you fall hopelessly in love with me eventually."
"Through sex?" You laugh, ignoring the now familiar butterflies that tell you he might be closer to his aim than he knows.
Poe shrugs, "through whatever necessary means, as long as I get to keep you as mine."
It's almost a knee jerk reaction to open your mouth and tell him you aren't a pet or property to be owned, but as you meet his gaze you realise you are once more judging him a little too quickly and all too harshly. It's clear he means more than that, his gaze open and vulnerable.
A warm feeling of familiarity, of safety, of something bigger, spreads through your very bones, something that shows there is much more than lust and affection, perhaps for both of you.
Your response is much softer than your initial reaction might have been, had you not taken a moment.
"Take me to dinner tomorrow then?"
"I think tomorrow might be today," Poe smiles, nodding towards the window where the faint pink light of dawn is starting to peek through the drawn blinds. You groan knowing sunrise both means you really should untangle yourself from the pilot and head back to base.
"Well honestly I think I've had enough of you for one day." You tease, pushing yourself off him and sitting up, debating if you can handle another cold shower. In all honesty a cold shower is probably exactly what you need after you make the mistake of glancing down at Poe, still naked, the sheet barely covering his more private parts, his curls messy from your fingers, peering up at you with a half smile.
"We both know you can never get enough of me," Poe states, before he wraps his arms around you and drags you back down onto the bed. He throws one leg over yours, effectively trapping you next to him as he snuggles up close to you.
You don't bother fighting, too tired from the night's activity to argue your way out of his grip. Sighing you sink into the bed, allowing your eyes to flutter closed.
"I knew this would work," Poe hums happily in your ear. You mumble enough of a sound to make him realise you're asking what he means.
"Getting you in a hotel room with me would make you admit you wanted me."
You give another tired hum in acknowledgement before his words finally hit you, and you sit up to stare at him, suddenly wide awake. Poe grins back at you, knowing exactly what you are thinking.
"Tell me this was not some plan to get me into bed!"
Poe feigns a comedic shocked expression, holding one hand to his chest as he stares open mouthed at you.
"Of course not! What do you think of me? Why is your opinion of me is so low that you think I'd go as far to break the ship engine, so we'd be stuck here alone, find the busiest hotel on this planet, specifically book one room knowing the others would be booked already by the time we got here, ask for the smallest bed-"
He doesn't get to continue. Picking up the pillow you repeatedly hit him hard with it while Poe laughs, holding his hands up in surrender.
"I'm joking. I'm joking, I swear," he laughs, grabbing his own pillow and hitting you back. "I'd never purposely break a ship."
"You manipulative little shit,"
Neither of you surrender until the bed is covered with feathers, the pillowcases empty and discarded, your limbs tangled together, lips pressed against sweat salted skin. This time it's you who pries the truth from him, your way.
"My methods may be unorthodox but -" he gets no further before you smack him in the face with your pillow, causing him to dissolve into laughter once more.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
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eyelessfaces · 7 months
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𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑: 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐎𝐍𝐄
𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓
poe dameron x reader
𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤: love bites
warnings: mentions of sex... come on guys it's kinktober, so obviously. aside from the obvious ones because of the kink, I don't think it has any warnings!
word count: 0.5k
updates blog: @eyelessupdates
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“Better make use of that scarf of yours” you’d told him teasingly, leaving a kiss at his shoulder when he examined his neck in the refreshers mirror.
The surface was covered in bite marks and hickeys, small trails of red and purple spots covering his olive skin, the contrast of the colors faint yet …noticeable by the quantity.
"It's not even cold" he murmurs, the tip of his fingers lightly grazing the area, head tilted to the side so he could access it.
You press yourself closer to him, your chest pressed flush against his back, your lips almost grazing his ear.
"Well, if you prefer everyone knowing what their commander did tonight…" you whisper, smiling, and he chuckles at your words, a snide smirk over your face as you wrap your arms around his waist, tucking your face in the crook of his neck, leaving a kiss over the fresh marks on his warm skin.
You hadn’t even meant to mark him that much, at first. 
It had been a long, prolonged session of languid, slow love making, and when you had changed positions and started ever so slowly and lazily bouncing on his lap after a couple orgasms, you noticed the thin, shiny overlay of sweat having built up over his neck, and you had been rather enticed by the idea of licking it off of him.
A low grunt coming deep from his throat had left his mouth when you tasted the saltiness of his skin as you simultaneously licked and kissed it, his hands gripping tighter and his fingers pressing harder onto your hips, guiding you up and down his cock as he threw his head back to give your mouth more access. 
Despite how pleasant it was at the moment, he hadn’t anticipated the remnants of your actions over his skin, and he should have known, considering how eagerly you had begun to bite and suck at his neck, the work of your mouth contrasting with the lazy rolling of your hips, the only energy left after your few orgasms now poured into abusing his muscular neck and tender skin.
He could not say he was mad at you, though. 
There was something exciting about seeing his reflection in the mirror, the colored spots over his neck standing out and proving he was yours, and you were the one that did this to him, that claimed him. 
Maybe if positioned correctly, the collar of his flight suit would cover them, and no one would know, and this option would be the most professional one, but the most boring one.
He could use a little spice, and he knew that everyone would notice but no one would actually dare asking questions about it, and something about this fact lit something in him.
"You know what," he starts, watching into your eyes as you lift your head from the crook of his neck and look at him through the mirror. A smirk grows over his lips. 
“I think I want them to know.” 
as always please reblog and tell me your thoughts it helps a lot!!
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We could have continued to treat sampling as a permissionless activity, the way we treat dropping a snatch of a popular song into a jazz solo. We could have turned it into a collective right, one that anyone could use, by paying a set fee — just like Sid Vicious covering Paul Anka.
These collective rights are all over the place. When George Lucas wanted to recreate long sequences from Akira Kurosawa’s movies in Star Wars, he just did it —directors don’t have to license the right to recreate other directors’ shot plans. Every director owns the right to every other director’s camera innovations.
Instead, we created an individual right, which gave the corporations that artists bargain with even more negotiating leverage. This wasn’t just bad for the artists that came after this change — it also extinguished beloved and important popular music from before the change, by making it retroactively illegal.
Take De La Soul, one of the most important — and sample-heavy — hiphop acts of sampling’s golden age. De La Soul’s music has never appeared on streaming music and a generation has grown up without their influence, thanks to problems clearing the band’ samples.
Reservoir Media, a private equity incubated rollup, bought De La Soul’s label Tommy Boy records for $100,000,000 in 2021. They’ve promised to release 3 Feet High and Rising, De La Soul’s 34-year-old debut album, on streaming media next month.
Unfortunately, De La Soul’s Trugoy the Dove didn’t live to see his music reintroduced to listeners. He died this month, aged 54.
-United We Stand: Creation is collective - and so is bargaining
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random-writer-23 · 1 year
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In the process of another Poe fic, and it was gonna be short but it's already almost at 10k words. And the writing is not even good it feels like I'm badly summarizing an event that happened. It's okay though this is why we have an editing process.
Edit: we have now reached 11k words.... it takes 22 fucking minutes to read and I'm not even close to being done with it. Should I split it up into different parts and post it that way? or should I just finish writing and post the whole thing.... I'll probably just post it all at once unless you guys want me to specifically post it in separate parts. Anyway the title as of right now is called the princess and the Pilot so I'm hoping to get it finished, and edited and posted sometime this week, If you'd like to be a beta reader, send me a DM and I'll get back to you.
Edit 2: LMFAO ITS 12K WORDS AND I'M STILL NOT DONE WITH IT I'm genuinely debating whether or not to split it up into separate parts and post all the parts separately because of how long it is. I also Know shorter things are easier to read especially if you have a short attention span (its me I have a short attention span, yet I love reading 50 million word fics). It's fine It will hopefully be done soon, within the next two weeks if I hyperfocus on it. But I'm so sorry for the lack of posts y'all
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charliedawn · 1 year
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Alright alright, I worked up the courage to ask about Star Wars. Can I get a How they would kiss you preference for Star Wars? Aniken and Han Solo and any characters you might want.
Anakin :
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The first time you kissed Ani, it was on the return of one of his missions and someone had told you that he had been hurt during said mission. You hadn't wasted a single second before climbing aboard ship before it even reached the ground, praying that Anakin was alright.
You found him in the medical bay, laid down on a bed and your heart missed a beat. You stepped forward to hold his hand and stroked the back of his hand with your thumb.
"Come on, Ani...Wake up. For me. Please."
You then kissed him, unaware of what was going on in Anakin's head—since you weren't force sensitive.
In Anakin's head :
'Play unconscious. Play unconscious. Play unconscious. Don't laugh. Don't freak out. It's not like Y/N is kissing you right now. They're going to be so mad when they discover it was a prank.'
And then, as if the force itself had summoned him, Obi-Wan stepped in and stopped dead in his tracks before eyeing the both of you suspiciously.
"What are you doing ?", he asked before folding his arms over his chest in disapproval. You suddenly took a step back and threw your hands in the air.
"It's...It's not what it looks like !", you tried to defend yourself—but Obi-Wan shook his head before looking straight at Anakin.
"Not you. You. Get up, Anakin.", he told him and you frowned in incomprehension, until Anakin started talking that is.
"Can't, master. I'm playing dead."
Your eyes grew wide and you were seriously debating on whether to be overjoyed by the fact that he was alright, or kill him yourself.
"No, you're playing the idiot. Now, get up.", Obi-Wan said knowingly and Anakin rolled his eyes before finally sitting up.
Obi-Wan sighed before walking away.
"You have five minutes."
The moment he was out, you glared at Anakin who addressed you a cheeky wink before asking.
"Sooo...You were worried, huh ?"
You restrained an eye roll before wrapping your arms around his neck.
"Ani...You are the biggest jerk in all the galaxy. And I'm mad at you. And it doesn't make any sense. But, I still love you."
You then kissed him again and he smiled at your words. He knew he was a fool, but it felt so good to be your fool—he would gladly spent an eternity being yours.
"If that's how you kiss all jerks, I'll gladly be the king of jerks."
You shook your head in disbelief before hitting his chest playfully. You then both burst into laughter and he took your hand before you left the ship to go home.
Anakin is passionate and playful. He'd do anything for a smile. And even when you're mad at him, he'd find a way to make you laugh and indulge into giving him what he wants.
He would have his kiss, no matter what.
Han Solo :
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You were one of the Rebel fighters and had met Han Solo when he was trapped on wookie territory. The Rebellion had sent you on a rescue mission and boy, were you skillful with a blaster.
He immediately noticed you and since then, had been unable to stay away.
Finally, he confessed his love for you just as he was on a mission to go stop Darth Vader.
"Hey, Y/N...I might not make it. So...Just wanted to let you know that I love you and try not to cry too hard if I..."
He wanted to reassure you, but he knew that the mission would be dangerous and decided to be honest with you. But, he didn't plan on you—grabbing him by the back of the neck to kiss him before he could utter another word. Not that he was complaining. But, he was actually trying to be a gentleman.
"Make sure you do.", you told him and Han blinked twice before chuckling nervously.
"Yeah...I'll do that."
He then went aboard his ship and you smiled before grabbing Chewbacca's hand before he also went inside after him.
"Bring our Han back in one piece, alright ?"
Chewbacca let out a loud roar in agreement before pulling you into a hug and you smiled—hiding your tears into his fur. You knew the mission would be dangerous, you weren't delusional. But, you were certain Han would be back. He had promised you afterall and Chewbacca seemed to believe the same. You stayed there until the Millennium Falcon was out of sight before returning to your duties.
A few days later :
When they returned, you ran into Han's arms and he gratefully accepted the rain of kisses you had in store for him. He had missed you too. He was so glad he could come back to you and blinked his tears away. He didn't think he would make it, but damn...He was mighty glad he did.
Han is into long and deeply heart-felt kisses. He may seem like the flirtatious and quick kisses type of man. But, he likes knowing someone is waiting for him. Once he has accepted you in his heart, he's not leaving your side and would spend hours kissing you if he could.
Poe Dameron :
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Poe had been held captive for so long, it was a shock when he suddenly reappeared and you dropped everything to run and wrap your arms around him. He chuckled and held you even closer while he peppered your face with kisses, trying to stop your tears.
"Ssh...I'm here. I'm here."
You had been so afraid he'd be gone for good this time, your legs gave under you, but Poe kept you steady. He cupped the back of your head and kept you close to him while he thanked his luck star he got another moment with you.
Poe is a pretty passionate guy. He is also often on a ship, flying into danger. So, every moment counts. He wouldn't lose any time and kiss you and embrace you every chance he gets—knowing it might be his last.
Kylo Ren :
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"You...wish to kiss me ?", Kylo Ren suddenly stated when you were both alone—reading your mind easily.
You sighed. Of course...
"Is that wrong ?", you asked—completely unashamed. It wasn't like you could hide anything from him. You thought he was a good leader in his good days (an awful one on his bad ones) and didn't see the point in trying to hide it. He seemed almost surprised for a second before answering you.
"Not to my knowledge. The human body has very unpredictable needs and I recall that the act of kissing is one of them...However...", he frowned slightly before adding. "I also recall that the act is to show affection to loved ones. So, why would you wish to partake in such an activity with me ?"
You shrugged.
"Because you are the only one who wouldn't be disgusted by the scars."
He tilted his head quizzically at you before you sighed and removed your helmet—showing him your old battle scars.
"Crenian acid. The Crenians can be quite creative with their torture methods. The acid slipped through my armor and disfigured me for life."
Kylo stayed silent while examining your features with attention. You did have red angry scars almost identical to his...but far numerous and even though he knew better than to judge, you wouldn't be considered pretty in any beauty standards he knew of.
But, he smiled.
Good. Because, he didn't like pretty.
He took a step forward and slowly reached for your chin to raise it in order for your eyes to meet. You eyes were a sight to behold though...Dark and magnetic. He could easily read your mind, but even if he did...There was always something he would miss—something he couldn't quite grasp.
"Do you really want this ?", he asked—even though you had thought about it for a long time and you nodded.
That's all the encouragement he needed.
He crashed his lips onto yours and muffled all sounds you could have made. He swallowed them and took pride in taking you by surprise.
Kylo Ren is possessive and quite violent in his kisses. He's not nice or sweet. But, he can be when he wants to...which is almost never. But sometimes, Ben would resurface and kiss you sweetly when he knows that you can't handle the other one. There'd be a constant battle within him and not only about the force—but about you as well.
Armitage Hux :
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"What do you want, soldier ?! Why call me to this floor when there are so many officers that could..?!"
"General Hux...I believe I want to kiss you.", you interrupted him and general Hux' eyes grew wide in shock. You had been close at the academy...But, he never thought...
"What ?"
"I want to kiss you.", you repeated and general Hux's jaw went slack in disbelief for a couple of seconds before he shook his head to regain his composure.
"You want to kiss me so badly, you'd really risk losing your life ?", he finally asked and you replied with a daring smirk—even though you were terrified inside.
"And what if I am ?"
He huffed a mocking laugh before shaking his head again.
"Then, you are insane. You are a stormtrooper. You shouldn't desire anything.", he reasoned and turned around to step away.
"Then, tell me, general...How come I desire you ?", you shot back.
He stopped dead in his tracks and gave you a quizzical side glance. You smiled and reached forward for his hand before wrapping it around your wrist and positioning his thumb above your pulse point. You wanted him to feel it...feel what you've always felt around him.
"How come...general ?", you repeated softly—but with more insistance this time around as he seemed genuinely puzzled. He raised his other hand to wrap his fingers around your throat and feel the pulse there too...As if trying to decipher if you were being serious, or just tricking him into believing someone could ever want him...
"A default in your programming. A mere illusion that you are playing yourself to comfort your lonely nights..."
But, he didn't pull away. Seems like someone did have lonely nights as well...You leaned forward and he didn't stop you. When you lips touched, he let out a small gasp before holding you tightly against him. There was no logical explanation, no possible reasoning, none whatsoever as to why Hux suddenly felt the need to hold you...But, he did.
And, when you were the one who pulled back, you could see the flicker of disappointment in his eyes. But, he quickly got back his composure and stood up straight—a single strand of his red hair out of place the only proof of what you had just done.
"D...Dismissed."
He had trouble uttering the command and you smiled before finally agreeing. You wouldn't tell him how your heart was thrashing in your chest, threatening to jump out of your ribcage. He probably already knew from the moment you kissed, hence the small gasp of surprise.
What you didn't know was how general Hux himself became red in the face the moment you were out and tried to cover it—stabilizing himself by supporting himself on the back of a chair. One more minute and he would have melted right in front of you.
General Hux hides his emotions from sight, it doesn't mean he doesn't have any. He'd give you quick and sweet kisses when no one is looking and give you smiles only you could witness.
Obi-Wan Kenobi :
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To be honest, you weren't prepared for the first time you kissed Obi-Wan. He had pulled you from the crowd because he needed a native to escape the many stormtroopers and you had agreed to pretend being his wife/husband for a while—not to raise suspicion. You were an ally to the jedi cause and had tried to help him the best you could.
However, a stormtrooper had eventually cornered you in a dark alley and with no exit. He had asked you for your papers, but Obi-Wan didn't have any. Thankfully, your papers could suffice if you were considered family,but the stormtrooper was suspicious and refused to just drop it. You saw Obi-Wan touch the handle of his lightsaber. But, instead of alerting the others of your presence by killing the stormtrooper—you had another idea and suddenly pulled Obi-Wan by the collar to clash your lips against his.
The stormtrooper wanted to speak, but Obi-Wan raised a finger—as if asking him to wait for a minute while he kissed you back. The stormtrooper coughed and looked away. He really hadn't expected it and you smirked. At least now, he had proof you were together and you wiped your lips with a cheeky wink at the soldier before walking past him.
"That's my wife/husband.", Obi-Wan uttered with a dreamy smile—a slight note of disbelief in his tone before the stormtrooper let out a small snort at his words.
"....Lucky you."
Obi-Wan nodded in agreement before attempting to comb his hair back with his fingers. He then walked past the stormtrooper as well and that was how you succeeded in escaping inspection...and you became Obi-Wan's partner.
It is against the Jedi code to form such romantic attachments, but Obi-Wan was ready to bend the rules for you. You made him want to brave the Jedi council and anyone who would dare say that your love wasn't right.
His kisses would be the symbol of that, genuine, true and open. You wouldn't try to hide your love, no matter what...Because it is pure and beautiful.
Darth Vader :
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It was at a time when you thought you could bring back your old Anakin. You had followed Darth Vader in an attempt to make him see reason, but the day he decided to kill the children...that was the day you decided enough was enough.
You stood in his way and gave him an ultimatum.
If he was to hurt them, he would have to step over your cold dead body. You loved him and you knew better than to side with the jedi, but you wouldn't let him kill the kids. It didn't feel right. But, you didn't expect it when he lit his lightsaber and the terrible red hue made the children scream in terror behind you. You stayed put while Darth Vader wondered what he should do with you. Anakin used to be so fond of you, but there was no place for such affection in his heart no longer.
But, you still wanted to try.
You took a step forward and pleaded with tears in your eyes.
"Please, Ani...Don't do this. I love you."
The words he had dreamt of hearing so many times before—mere buzzing in the background of this uncontrollable anger he felt growing inside of him now. You knew words wouldn't be enough, so you raised your hands to gently cup his cheeks and place a tender kiss on his lips. You thought it would be enough, that he would feel your love in this kiss...And, maybe he did.
But, it was far from enough.
"...How dare you ?"
His words cut your breath short as he pushed you away with the force and you landed on the floor, your whole body shaking in pain as he screamed.
"HOW DARE YOU SAY THOSE WORDS NOW ?! YOU LET THEM CAST ME ASIDE ! I WAITED SO LONG FOR YOU TO CONFESS THE SAME LOVE I FELT FOR YOU, AND YOU DO IT NOW ?! AND FOR WHO ?! FOR WHAT ?! NOT FOR ME ! TO SAVE THOSE PITIFUL JEDI !"
He raised his hand towards the children huddled together in a corner and you forced yourself to stand up again and stand in front of them.
"They are only children, Ani...Please..."
He saw the desperation in your gaze, but shook his head.
"It's too late, Y/N. You are too late.", he told you and your eyes widened at the clear accusation in his words. He was holding you as responsible for what he had become than the rest. And when his lightsaber raised in the air, you uttered a loud scream of frustration before drawing out your own lightsaber—your two weapons clashed against each other and showed you each other's faces.
You were scared of what you saw in his eyes, and so did he. His eyes softened for just a second at your tear-strained face and the hatred there. You hated that you loved him, you hated that it was too late and most of all, you hated your own powerlessness as you could only watch the love of your life fall into a pit of darkness without you...You wished your heart couldn't see right from wrong, but it did. And this...this was wrong.
"A—!" You tried to talk again, but he turned his head away. Anakin was dead. You should know that. So, why ? Why do you keep holding on to a memory ? But he took a step back and only glared at the children behind you before sighing in defeat.
"Go. Take the children with you. Before I do something I regret."
His voice was cold and commanding. You held back your tears before walking away. You couldn't stay, not if you wanted the children to survive.
"I'll come back for you.", you whispered.
Another empty promise that you both knew there was no way you could hold. But, he still gave you a weak smile and nodded knowingly before the door closed behind you.
"No. You won't..."
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lotusbxtch · 2 months
Text
The Best Ride in the Galaxy (one-shot)
Pairing: Poe Dameron x AFAB!Reader
Summary: You have a thing for Poe's flight suit. He decides to be a cocky asshole about it. Sexy shenanigans ensue. Word count: 2k
Warnings: Explicit 18+, MDNI! Mostly porn with a little plot // Established relationship, thigh riding/dry humping, vaginal fingering, swearing, name calling, use of pet names (English and Spanish), dom!Poe, brief light violence (slap to the face), Poe uses a Spanish pet name (bebita) which is probably not canon but idc it's hot, no physical description of reader besides being AFAB and being taller standing than a sitting Poe, Poe makes a corny joke, Poe being a cocky smug asshole comes with its own warning, no use of y/n
a/n: This picture of Oscar & his thick-ass thighs, and @for-a-longlongtime mentioning how Poe-coded it was, inspired this fic in its entirety. A little over 24 hours later and here it is! This is my very first posted fic, so please show it some love, send it to someone who might enjoy it, and feel free to give (constructive) feedback if you wish! If I missed any warning tags, please let me know and I'll add them in. Big big thanks to @for-a-longlongtime for beta-reading and cheering me on, it means the world to me.
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You run outside as soon as you hear the X-wings land, your heart in your throat. 
It’s been 7 days, but when he left, Poe promised you it wouldn’t take more than 4 for his small band of rebel fighters to complete the covert mission. Of course he insisted on going with them; he’d been stir-crazy as of late, the endless strategy meetings and arguments amongst leadership boring him to tears. He jumped at the chance to get back into the pilot’s seat. You paced restlessly those last 3 days, imagining the absolute worst had happened to him, with no way of knowing if he was even alive.
So when you rushed out to the tarmac and spotted him climbing out of his X-wing, immense relief flooded your body, followed quickly by a potent swirl of both anger and anxiety. He spotted you, his eyes lighting up, jogging towards you with that brilliant smile.
“Hey good-lookin’,” he crooned as he approached, “didn’t miss me too much, did you?”
What he didn’t expect was for you to slap him straight across his face.
You surprised the both of you - Poe was staring back at you, open-mouthed and silent, a rare occurrence; you were staring at him, anger flashing in your eyes, your palm stinging slightly from the impact.
“Baby, I know you weren’t keen on me leaving,” Poe stammered, “but this seems a tad bit–”
“I THOUGHT YOU WERE FUCKING DEAD, YOU ASSHOLE!” you snapped at him, loudly enough for the people around you to look around for the source of the outburst. “You told me four days, Poe, and it’s now DAY FUCKING SEVEN.” You turned and started storming back to your pod, Poe on your heels.
“Bebita, I told you it was a small team,” Poe tried to explain while keeping up with you. “We hit some hiccups in the plan and had to hide out a bit longer than we thought. If I’d tried to contact you, it would have given away our position. You know how these missions go.”
You angrily punched in the access code to the door of your pod. “Yes, I know, which is exactly why as co-general you’re not supposed to be out in the field putting yourself in harm’s way.” The metal door slid open, and you walked forward, not even looking back at him. “I don’t care if you got bored playing politics, that doesn’t mean you get to go rogue and get back in the cockpit.” Slamming your hand on the button to slide the pod door closed, you finally turned to face Poe since slapping him. You let out a shaky breath as your rage subsided. Your stomach was morphing into a simmering pool of nerves and regret. 
“Look,” Poe said, “I just… getting cooped up on base listening to those talking heads was making me crazy. I miss flying and I saw the opportunity and took it.” You knew what he said was true, but it didn’t make it any easier on you. Taking a moment to compose yourself, you scanned his body for signs of injury, until you realized… he was wearing his flight suit.
Fuck. That damn flight suit always did things to you. Obviously he had to wear it for functionality’s sake, but god, it was almost like he was made to look good in them. His shoulders looked so strong and broad, and the unisex, utilitarian cut of the orange suit somehow did nothing to hide the curve of his ample, round ass, one of your favorite features of his. You felt your mouth water as you drank the sight of him in, arousal slowly kindling in your belly.
That suit was your weakness, and the cocky smile slowly dawning on his face let you know he knew, too.
“I mean,” Poe smirked,  “at least you get to see me in your favorite outfit of mine.” Walking slowly away from you to give you a clear view of his rear, he turned and sunk into the chair in your room. You followed, magnetically drawn to him while simultaneously being flustered that he caught onto your ogling. You crossed your arms and put on your best annoyed face.
“I’m sorry for slapping you, but I’m not sorry for being mad,” you said, pursing your lips and looking away. “And trying to seduce me with your stupid uniform isn’t working.”
It was, in fact, working too well. Your breathing got shallower as you tried to ignore the gentle heat filling your body from your center outwards. Poe’s smirk deepened.
“It’s a good thing you’re not a covert operative because you are the worst at lying,” he said, grabbing your thighs and coaxing you closer to him. You acquiesced, trying and failing to look irritated, the desire plain as day on your face. Poe ran his hands slowly up and down your legs from your hips to your calves. Sliding his palms back and around your ass, he squeezed and your breath hitched. You looked down and those liquid brown eyes were staring up at you, twinkling with mischief. “I know you better than that, sweet thing,” Poe teased. “You absolutely cannot pretend that me wearing this suit doesn’t make you cream your panties.”
You fought to control your traitorous body, breathing slowly through your nose as Poe lifted the hem of your shirt and planted soft kisses on your belly, right above your pants. “Fuck you, you cocky asshole,” you tried to spit viciously, but it came out sounding slightly strangled instead. This Maker-forsaken stupid man and his stupid bubble butt and this stupid suit, you thought, your fingers weaving into the curls on his head. 
Poe’s smile only turned even more predatory, like a cat playing with a mouse. “Oh, I would, baby” he whispered, nipping your torso lightly, “but I haven’t showered in days. How about this instead…”
Suddenly Poe grabbed your hips, pulling you down into his lap and forcing your knees to buckle, your legs on either side of his thick thigh. His right arm wound around your lower back, holding you in place while his left hand snaked up your neck and into your hair. He pulled you in for a slow, soft kiss, which snapped the final tether preventing you from melting for him like he knew you wanted to. You surged forward, kissing him deeply, licking into his mouth and tasting the minty aftertaste of the gum he always chews while piloting. He groans, biting your lower lip, then sliding his tongue along yours. This draws your first moans out from somewhere deep in your chest, and his eyes quickly darken when you begin grinding on his thigh.
“Oh, you like that,” Poe crooned, lips turning up into a smirk. “So fucking eager for me. So desperate to cum.”
“Fuck you, Maker-damn it,” you pant, burying your face into his neck, the smell of sweat, jet fuel, and him invading your senses. “This stupid suit is going to be the death of me.”
Poe smiles wickedly. “Why don’t you take a ride on the best pilot in the galaxy before you die, then, honey?” he purrs into your ear. You roll your eyes at his cheesy line until you feel him flex the thigh you’re straddling, creating the most delicious friction against your clothed core. You let out a breathy moan and clench your own thighs around his, starting to rock your clit against his ridge of muscle through your clothes. Slick starts dripping out of you with each roll of your hips against him. Poe moves your arms to brace on his shoulders, then slides both of his hands onto your hips to help you ride him.
The pleasure in your core starts to ratchet up, and you grind yourself harder into Poe’s thigh, throwing your head back with a moan. Poe leans to your ear, kissing and lightly licking just behind and below your earlobe, that spot he knows drives you wild. “That’s it, baby, ride it out,” he whispers into your ear. “Use all that frustration to make yourself cum on my leg.” You mewl, circling your hips and chasing your high. Your pussy contracts around nothing, and suddenly all you can think about is how much better it would feel if Poe was inside of you.
“Poe,” you whine, “I need more.” Your slick is soaking through your underwear, the smell of your arousal filling Poe’s senses. He groans, his cock painfully hard in his flight suit.
“What do you need, bebita?” he says, kissing your forehead sweetly while gripping your hips like a vice, a contrast that has you moaning wordlessly. “Tell me, and I’ll give it to you.”
“I need you,” you beg, “I need you inside of me, I need you to fuck me, please.” You can feel your clit throbbing, almost painfully. Poe moans into your neck. “Baby, I told you, you do not want me to unzip this suit,” he chuckles. “But I think I can still help. Lean back a little.” You comply, and watch with glazed eyes as Poe stares right back at you, slipping his middle and ring fingers into his mouth to get them wet. A shudder rips through your body when he slips both digits past the waistband of your pants and into your underwear. He groans loudly when he feels your slick folds.
“Fuuuuck me, baby, you’re absolutely drenched,” he breaths out. “Is this all for this dumb orange jumpsuit I’m wearing?” That cocky smirk reappears as he laughs at his own joke.
Letting out an annoyed breath, you huff, “it’s for you, idiot. You fucking drive me crazy. You’re the only one that’s ever gotten me this wet. Now fill me up before I lose my ever-loving mind.” 
Poe lets out another chuckle. “Yes, ma’am,” he quips, and then quickly slides the length of his fingers into your cunt, forcing a moan from your lungs involuntarily. He rocks you forward again so that you’re sitting directly on his fingers, with his palm cradling your pussy. “Fuck yourself on my fingers,” he commands. “Take what you need from me.”
You do exactly that, rising and falling on his thigh, swirling your hips over his soaked digits, your clit rubbing against the meat of his palm deliciously. He adds another finger, stretching you out and making you want to scream. Your hips speed up as you desperately chase your high. The wet squelching and slapping sounds of your pussy on Poe’s hand echo in the room. Poe’s panting fills your ears and your wanton moans fill his. You invade his senses in every way possible, and he can feel his dick pulse with every thrust of your hips against his thigh.
Suddenly, you start feeling the knot in your core tighten as you rocket ever-closer to your orgasm. Poe moans as he feels you clench. “Fuck, that’s it, honey, I can feel you getting close,” he whispers. “Give it to me.” His hips start lifting up, grinding, pressing his length into you as much as he can.
“Oh Maker, Poe, oh fuck,” you cry as your walls tighten. “You want me to fucking cum for you?”
“Fuuuuuuck yes baby, that’s all I want,” Poe pants. “Fucking cum all over my fingers, soak my hand, honey.”
The filth pouring out of his mouth finally snaps the knot in your stomach, and you nearly scream in ecstasy as your release shatters and blooms through your body. Poe moans your name as a rush of your slick coats his hand, and you feel him bite your shoulder as his body tenses. Sated, you slump against him, his hand still pinned under your body, both of you sticky with sweat and panting for breath. Poe uses his free hand to softly cup the side of your face, pressing kisses slowly and gently across your cheeks and nose.
You sigh as he carefully extracts his hand. Just as you peer down at him, he closes his eyes and slips his fingers into his mouth, sucking every bit of your essence off. You shudder in pleasure as you watch him. He locks eyes with you, and you lean in to kiss him, tasting yourself on his lips.
“Feeling better?” Poe asks, the warm molten brown of his eyes having returned. You sigh and giggle a little. “Yes, thank you,” you murmur quietly, “but I wish I could have made you cum too.” 
Suddenly Poe looks sheepish, something that’s a rare expression for him.
“Well, uh…” he starts, rubbing his hand on the back of his neck and averting his eyes. You pause, perplexed. He glances back at you, then down at the floor, and then back at you again. Poe clears his throat before he finally speaks.
 “I… actually did…”
You freeze silently, and then erupt into laughter. “Poe Dameron!” you screech. “The ‘best pilot in the galaxy’, commander of the Starfighter Corps, co-general of the entire fucking Resistance, fucking JIZZED in his pants like a teenager???” You start tittering uncontrollably, much to Poe’s embarrassment. “Shut the fuck up, idiot,” he grouses, which only makes you cackle even louder. He sighs, annoyed but begrudgingly satisfied.
“At least this suit needs to be washed anyway,” he mutters, mostly to himself, and you laugh so hard you start crying.
Tag list (it's here y'all!): @for-a-longlongtime @nerdieforpedro @lu62 @purelyoscar @clemdango04 @survivingandenduring @reggiesfilthylittlesecret @beezusvreeland @alltheglitterandtheroar @campingwiththecharmings @qveerthe0ry @agentjackdaniels @dizthemonster @beezusvreeland @queerponcho and anyone else who was interested!
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downbadf0rficppl · 3 months
Text
i didn't mean to love you so much
Poe Dameron x F!Reader
Summary: You don't know what you have until it's gone. Or is it?
Word Count: 6.0K
Repost
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It took 3 days to arrive on D'Qar.
The Naboo N-1 Starfighter that you stole from the junkyard on Bracca was one wrong move away from falling out of the sky. Even with your constant mid-flight repairs, only prayers to the Maker were keeping her together. The BB unit you found kept you posted with constant, and frankly worrying, updates on how the ship was holding. Let's just say the plane was soon to be out of use.
When you entered the atmosphere in D'Qar, the landing gear erupted into flames, eliciting a series of explicit beeps from the BB unit. If not for the life-or-death in front of you, you would have burst into a fit of giggles.
Instead, you just grit your teeth: "Happy beeps, bud."
You and the BB unit left the carnage that used to be a starfighter flaming in the trees, bickering the whole time, and heading towards the Resistance Base. Towards new beginnings. Towards freedom.
Bracca was a junkyard, where scavengers and smugglers looked for parts to sell to the highest bidder. It was dark and dangerous at the best of times, and work was never-ending. It wasn't the kind of place you would want to grow up, but it was better than Kessel. Anything was better than Kessel.
It took a week to get to the Rebel base. Your head throbbed painfully with each passing day, with hardly any food in your system and little water to quench your thirst, the journey to salvation seemed almost unattainable. You had thanked the Maker for rain when it first came, but after 4 days of non-stop rain, you had cursed the skies for it. It only seemed to fall harder.
By day 5, the BB unit was running out of power, its movements slower than before. It was far too heavy for you to carry and without it, you would never reach the Resistance base. There were no sarcastic quips or complaints for its master anymore. No, the two of you traveled in silence, aside from the odd groan from either one of you. Its tiredness mimicked your own. You could only pray that the base would come into view soon. You weren't sure how much longer you would last.
When the planes came into view, you almost cried with joy. With newfound energy, you and the BB unit near-ran the way to the tarmac runway that signaled life on this dratted planet.
And while the BB unit was welcomed with cheers and open arms, you weren't so lucky.
You were marched to the medical bay by two men almost twice your size, flanked on the left and the right so you couldn't run if you tried. Your heartbeat in your throat. Of course, the resistance had to be careful, but surely this was excessive.
After you received treatment for your assortment of cuts and burns, you were delivered to a small room, adorned with only a bed and curtains to block out the light. Before you could say anything, let alone protest, the doors shut, leaving you alone in a small cell deep in the heart of the Resistance base.
As terrifying as the whole situation was, when you laid your head to rest on the bed in the dingy room, sleep came. It beat thorns and nettles on the forest floor of D'Qar. It beat sitting upright for 3 days, trying to avoid meteors and Tie Fighters. It beat restless nights on Bracca, hoping to gather enough for a meal. Sleep came to you better than it ever had before, and you reveled in it.
You woke up to familiar beeping outside the large metal door.
"BB-3?" Your voice came out as a hoarse whisper. The beeping got louder, almost unbearably loud, "Calm down, bud. I don't know how to open the door."
"Step back." A male voice came from behind the door, startling you. You stumbled backward, falling on the floor as the whooshed open. A tall man stood there, and if he were surprised you were on the floor, he didn't show it.
You scrambled to your feet, brushing the dust off your clothes as BB-3 rolled in, circling around you like a vulture would his prey. The man stood there observing you and the droid got reacquainted, before clearing his throat.
"Vice Admiral Holdo would like to speak with you." His tone was authoritative. You didn't want to be on his bad side. He led you toward an office on the opposite side of the building, your legs shaking as you walked. He shot you a pitying glance as BB-3 followed at your heels, before returning his face to its emotionless expression. You hated it.
It must have been early, as only a few people were up, and those who were seemed to want to rather be asleep. But no one batted an eye your way, despite the grime you still felt clinging to your face, and the ripped clothes you were wearing. You wondered if this was normal to them. People coming home grimy, hurt, and disgusting.
Only one man seemed to notice you on your journey.
"Snap!" A voice called out to you. The man in front of you - presumably Snap - broke into a huge grin. "Long time, no see, buddy!" Snap clapped the other man on the back, tears threatening to spill from his eyes.
You stood there as the other man regaled the story of whatever mission he'd been on to Snap, and for a moment, you thought you were forgotten.
Until he turned. His eyes seemed to scorch your soul with their searching gaze. It was heavy, but you felt safe under it. Almost as if you knew that he would do nothing to hurt you.
"Heard all about how this one came in yesterday." He stretched out his hand, "Captain Poe Dameron. Pleasure to meet you."
You shook his hand and returned the favour, telling you his name. He tested it on his tongue, repeating a few times. Once he seemed satisfied, Poe turned back to Snap.
"How come you got stuck on babysitting duty?" He asked, mirth dancing in his eyes. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes or butt in - you wanted these people to like you. Sarcasm could be saved for later.
"Kid brought back my droid."
"BB-8 told me the story. Something about running from a resistance fighter, blowing up a depot train," you kick BB-3 gently, "and exploding an N-1. It was impossible. Maybe you should get your droid checked for gossiping?" Snap punched him in the arm, "Hey, it was just a suggestion." Poe grinned widely, "Oh, and the shootout. How could I forget the shootout?"
"It wasn't a shootout." You slapped your hand to your mouth. You hadn't meant to say that out loud. So much for saving the sarcasm for later.
Poe turns to look at you. "Oh?" his grin infuriatingly wide. "That's not what the droid said."
"It wasn't a shootout, we were shot at." Your confidence floods back into you. "And the depot train wasn't us. Wrong place, wrong time. Am I right, bud?" You glare down at the BB-unit.
He mumbles something about ruining a good story before whirring off to stop behind Snap. Stupid BB-unit.
"Guess you're more interesting than I gave you credit for kid." Snap stepped towards you, hand coming to rest on your shoulder. "The name's Temmin, Temmin Wexley. But everyone calls me Snap."
"Pleasure to meet you Snap," you echo Poe's words from earlier.
Your meeting with the Vice Admiral went well. She believed your story, well corroborated by both BB-3 and the bounty on your head placed by a well-meaning neighbour. She cleared you to start training with the resistance, though you surprised both her and Snap when you asked to be a mechanic.
Though when you started working on ships, it was clear to see why. It was almost like there was a secret language that ships spoke that only you seemed to understand. You scoffed at that. Beginner's luck you called it. Still, there was no denying that you loved working on the ships and that you were good at it too.
Months went by and you settled into the routines of the Resistance. You were given a room closer to the other mechanics, who, despite the constant tension of competition, seemed to like you well enough. You often sat with them for meals, although passing up on opportunities to spend more time with them. They seemed content with that. You got used to the early morning wake-up calls when the sun streamed through the window and urgent repairs needed to be made. You learned to enjoy the quiet evenings when everyone else had closed up shop and you could finetune repairs for those who needed it. You finally felt like you had a purpose. It was freeing.
Snap kept you up-to-date on the comings and goings of the First Order - never in much detail of course, but enough to satiate your desire to know more. In return you smuggled him extra jogan fruitcake when it was served while he was away. Sometimes, in thanks for saving your life, you made extra updates and repairs to his X-Wing when he came back from long missions - more often than not to save his those extra hours of tedious work.
Black Squadron had come home after a week long mission the night before. You had worked late into the night the day before, and you were now regretting it. Blue squadron had come into contact with a few Tie Fighters on night patrol, and the damage was hair-pullingly extensive. You were in for a long day. It didn't help that you could barely keep your eyes open, hands glued to a cup of Caf that was doing little for the tiredness clouding your brain. You didn't even notice Snap come storming in.
"WHO WORKED ON MY SHIP LAST NIGHT?" He yelled over all the mechanics. Shit.
You had done some basic repairs for him the evening before last and had spent the better part of last night finishing up repairs and repainting his ship. You knew how pilots were with ship paint. Maker, you were screwed.
After a few moments of silence, you decided it was better to own up than let everyone suffer. "I did, Wexley."
He slowly turned towards you, before grabbing you and pulling you into a bone-crushing hug, lifting your feet off the ground. You were shocked. He was happy - no, elated. The rest of the mechanics, equally as confused as you, turned back to their work, ignoring the scene in front of them.
He still had you gripped tightly when Poe walked in. "Easy tiger, you'll kill the greenie. What did she do to deserve your wrath?"
"My wrath?! No, no, no, Poe. This kid is my new favorite person on base."
"I'll try not to take offense to that," Poe grumbled jokingly, "What did she do to deserve such high praise then?"
"Have you seen my ship? She's beautiful, more beautiful than Jess that one time." He started, about to regale a story, you did not need to know. You elbowed him hard in the ribs.
"My sentiment exactly," Poe said to you, giving you a fist bump before walking over to Snap's X-Wing, closely followed by Snap himself. You trailed behind them, still unsure of what was going on. Poe dragged his finger across the paintwork, "He has a point though. I've never seen Snap's X-Wing look this good." Poe turned towards you, his warm brown eyes sparkling with pride. "Good job, Greenie."
You smiled gently, before turning away. It was high praise from Captain Poe Dameron, flyboy of the resistance.
"Maybe I'll snap her up, you know, give her a real ship to work on?" Poe said, his flirting tone making an odd double entendre that made your face light up in flames.
"Not a chance. Kid, you're my new mechanic. Officially."
"What if I don't want to be?" You countered, your sarcastic tone making both Snap and Poe burst into laughter.
You accepted the role though. There was no world in which you didn't. You enjoyed the perks of being Snap's favored Mechanic - you could sleep in more often, you were privy to more information than the average mechanic. He would tell you if he was to leave the base soon, you were often told just how bad a situation was. Snap trusted you. And if Snap did, so did the others.
'The others' being the other pilots on Black Squadron: Jessika Pava, Karé Kun, L'ulo L'ampar. And of course, Poe Dameron. It was almost like you couldn't escape him. His infectious laugh, his boyish grin, his boisterous personality. His ability to make even the most mundane task into a story for the ages.
No wonder he was so popular.
You began to sit with them in the cantina and you frequently ended up leading the repairs on Black Squadron, no one else being as trusted as you. You opened up to them slowly, telling them about growing up on Kessel and being brought to the Scrapper’s guild on Kessel. You told them the truth about your escape - Poe ended up on the floor laughing, saying “the real story’s so much better, BB-3”. They found out about your impeccable aim after a fun night in the cantina that ended in a tense game of holodarts. They became your family - more of a family you had ever had in your life.
And while, you saw Snap, L’ulo and Karé as your brothers, you could not say the same for Poe. Poe was a flirt, everyone knew that. But as you got closer and closer, it was harder to ignore the way you're heart sped up when he looked at you. How you're palms grew clammy when he smiled in your direction. How his praises and compliments made your knees weak. God you were in love with him.
You knew that half the women on the base had either slept with him or wanted to, and yet not one of them got even a second of his time. None of them except you. Poe would walk you to your room in the evening, and to the cantina in the morning, regaling stories of his adventures before he knew you. He’d bring you caf when you were working late, and sit under the stars with you at the end of a long day. He’d tell you stories of Yavin 4 and his mother. He showed you the ring that hung on the end of his necklace. 
“I want to give it to the one, you know?”
“Don’t get all sentimental on me, Captain.”
He groaned, “Don’t rank me.” You just smiled.
“So, no lucky lady in your life, Dameron?”
“No lucky man in yours, greenie?” 
You scoffed, “If there was ever a chance, they’ve all been scared away by you.”
“Good.”
You laughed it off, but inside your guts twisted at the idea that Poe was happy you were single. Your insides warmed at the idea that he might just feel the same. 
The next morning, you walked out of your room to the sight of Poe sneaking out of the room opposite yours. Half-naked. His eyes widened at the sight of you, and your hand quickly hid your eyes from the view. Your heart dropped. He lied to you. 
Poe sought you out later on in the day. He came up behind you on the landing deck, with a cool glass of jogan juice in hand. You had stripped out of your mechanics jumsuit, the arms tied loosely around your waist. Your tank top was almost a shade darker with the sweat of exertion and ridiculous heat. And yet you declined it, your face barely concealing your childlike annoyance. You knew it was stupid. You and Poe were barely friends, let alone anything that would justify your anger.
“I’m sorry.” Poe huffed, still standing underneath you in the beating sunshine. You were surprised: Poe Dameron never apologises.
“For what?” You said, your back still facing him. He sighed - he didn’t like it when anyone was annoyed at him. Least of all you.
“For this morning.”
“Why does it matter, Poe? You can sleep with who you want to.” You said, anger colouring your voice.
“It matters,” he yells, “because it upset you. Because, for whatever reason, the idea of me sleeping with other people, made you mad at me.”
His obliviousness tugged at your heartstrings, as if to say ‘he doesn’t feel the same’.“I’m not mad that you’re sleeping with other people.”
“Then why are you ignoring me?”
“Because you lied to me, Poe.” You say, dropping down from the ladder, sweat dripping down your back. 
“What are you talking about?”
“You said there was no one special in your life.”
“There isn’t.” You raise a brow, before grabbing the glass of jogan juice from his hand. “Just because we had fun for a night, doesn’t mean I’m getting down on one knee.”
“I think you’ve done it enough times for that to be proven, Poe.”
His cheeky smile returned, “Glad we’re back on first name terms.”
You shook your head at him, “For the record, if I ever catch you sneaking out of a room in my wing again, I’ll skin you myself.”
“If you catch me you say? Well, I like myself a challenge.” You slap him on the head, before climbing back up the ladder.
“Leave me alone, Poe. I don’t need your love troubles plaguing my every hour.”
“There’s no place for things like love in the middle of a war, greenie. First thing you learn in a place like this.”
If he hadn’t been walking away, he would have heard your heart burst into a thousand tiny pieces. Maybe it was for the best if you didn't love him.
Instead of wallowing in undeserving heartache like an idiot, you forced yourself to forget all about the way Poe made your heart feel. He became just another friend, pushed so far into the friendzone that was no conceivable way out. To his credit, you didn’t hear of another escapade of his again. He probably just got good at hiding them.
That always got difficult when he was sent on week-long missions. Your heart would migrate into your throat and even swallowing became difficult. Your mind would swim with worry, all for him to come back completely fine, his ship always seemed to come home the least scathed. A fact for which your heart was grateful.
"Hey, flyboy," you called, as you walked into the cantina. There were less than 10 people in the whole room - probably due to the ungodly hour of the day.
Poe was sat in the corner, the light of his datapad shining on his face. He ran his fingers through his hair. It was unusually disheveled, which could only mean one thing. He was nervous.
You walked up to him. Evidently, he hadn't heard you from across the room, because when you came up to him and rested your hand on his shoulder, he flinched and grabbed your hand. You winced at his tight grip as he turned to face you.
Poe released your hand when he saw it was you. He leaned back into your chest, eyes fluttering shut. "I'm sorry," he whispered, gently.
You grabbed the datapad from his hands, and placed it face down on the table, "It's ok. What's going on?"
"Nothing. Don't worry about it."
You absent-mindedly run your hands through his hair as his head remained leaned against your chest. "It's not nothing. Is it a mission? You're leaving again soon?"
He hummed in agreement.
"You're leaving today, aren't you? That's why you're up early."
"Why do you think Snap got you to wake up early? You're not just a sight for sore eyes, you know."
His words made you blush. Never have you been more glad that he isn't staring right at you - it would give your heart’s deepest darkest desires away. 
He left that afternoon. After you completed routine checks for him, he was off on a top-secret adventure. Sometimes, it was easy to hate his rank, because it made it so hard to find out where he was, or what he was doing. But as always, you let him go and, as always, you prayed he'd come home safe. To you. You always pray he comes home safe to you.
Hours turned to days, days turned to weeks. And while it wasn't unheard of for Poe to be gone this long, your heart could barely take him being gone for a day. That's the price of being in love. You'd never thought of yourself as still being in love with Poe until he left on that mission. You'd never thought much of the way your heart still raced when he talked to you. You'd never thought much of the way your heart still ached when he left for missions. You'd never thought much of the way your heart still burst when he smiled at you. But without him there, it's like your heart could not find a reason for beating. 
You continued on with your job, trudging through daily repairs and meals, trying to keep your mind away from Poe. You forced a smile when you talked to Snap - missing Poe hit him just as hard as it hit you. You forced a smile when you taught new recruits - you couldn't afford to have them hate you just because the Captain was missing. You forced a smile when you came down for dinner - there was no use in moping around in the middle of a war. But when you were in the comfort of your own room, you let the smile fall and the tears drip down your face. You cried almost every night for the first week that he was gone, trying to reconcile your newly found feelings and your newly lost friend.
It was a surprise to everyone when Poe crash-landed back on D'Qar with burns and cuts littering his body. You were up at an extremely early hour as working on Snap's ship when he landed, and you were immediately filled with concern. A tight knot wound its way around your throat, as you watched the scene unfold. BB-8 was nowhere to be seen. The ship is smoking dangerously, and parts of it are falling off, but most worrying of all, Poe was struggling to get out of the cockpit. You quickly threw yourself onto the X-Wing, hitting the emergency ejection latch with the spanner in your hand. The cockpit lid flew open and Poe climbed out, coughing heavily and clutching his side.  Snap came running out of the base, and grabbed Poe's arm. You ran up and grabbed the other, and the two of you dragged him towards the med wing. 
Two nurses snapped him up, cleaning his wounds and applying bacta spray where necessary. Snap turned away, mumbling something about an early morning briefing, but you stayed rooted to the spot. You couldn't take your eyes off his broken state, and tears slipped out of your eyes before you could control them. After a beat, you spun around on your heel and sprinted to your room. 
When the door clanged shut, you slumped onto the floor and burst into tears. You couldn't bear to see Poe in pain. You hated yourself for not being strong enough to fight through your tears to be with him. And you hated yourself for still being in love with him, when you promised you would be. When your datapad lit up with tasks for the day, you made the rash decision to call in sick. In the time you had been on the base, you had never called in sick. This job was your lifeline, your passion, and nothing, not even illness, would affect that. At least, that's what you had thought. You spent the majority of the week in that same spot, tears subsiding when you became so dehydrated that your body refused to let you cry.
On the fifth day of your hibernation, you finally left your room, having showered and gotten ready. Few people were on the base, apart from the mechanics and medics, and the injured - which included Poe. Given the lack of a real threat in the vicinity, General Leia had given the day off. You didn’t want to relax. You couldn’t relax.
You snuck over to where Poe’s beat up X-Wing was parked, and the sight of it almost made you tear up. The memories hit you like a brick. Poe barely limping towards the med wing. BB-8 being carried to the droid repair room. Fire extinguishers coating the X-Wing with hopes that it may be able to fly again. You got to work.
You were finally satisfied as the sun set over the vast treescape of D'Qar, covered head to toe in oil and grease. After some gentle coaxing by Paige - the only one aware of your all-consuming feelings for Poe - you agreed to grab something small to eat with her.
What you didn't sign up for was to see a broken and battered Poe sitting at the table, laughing at some stupid joke that Snap had probably made. He looked up as you walked in, almost as if he was expecting you. His eyes met yours, and you felt the tight knot in your throat begin to form again - just as it had the morning Poe crash-landed on the base.
Poe tried to lift his arm up to wave but winced at the action, the stitches keeping his wounds bound together stretching at the extreme action. You pressed your lips into a tight smile, willing the Maker to take your tears away. Paige handed you a bottle of water, before leading you toward the table. She left you standing in front of the table, where you awkwardly shifted your feet.
"Gonna sit down?" Snap asked, mirth dancing behind his eyes, "Or are you planning to put on a show? Wouldn't put it past you to have hidden another talent."
You smiled weakly, sitting down next to Jess and unscrewing the cap on the water bottle you had been given. Jess leaned over and whispered gently, "Feeling ok? Paige came up to ask if you were ok when you didn't show up at drills this morning."
"Yeah, felt a bit under the weather after morning rounds."
"Probably the shitty sleep you've been getting worrying about this guy." Karé said, pointing his knife at Poe.
Poe looked at you, his eyes wide, but you tried to brush off Karé's words, sarcastically replying, "Oh please Karé, the only thing you're worried about is whether or not they have that drink that you like from Sorgan, which is disgusting by the way - I don't know how you can drink it."
Everyone laughs as Karé splutters about how delicious spotchka is, the anxiousness wracking your body easing its reins slightly. Under the table, you feel Poe's foot nudge yours gently. You smile lightly at him, careful not to let him have a good look at your red-rimmed eyes and splotchy face. As much as it shouldn't matter, you don't want him to know how much you care.
"You don't have to pretend you don't care for the captain, kid. You should have seen how she leaped to open the hatch Poe, something from a Naboo holodrama. Or one of those superhero films." Snap laughed, as your face burned red.
Poe raised his eyebrow, "Now that's something I would like to see. Maybe I'll get myself stuck in a cockpit again, just to see you in action." He laughs, but you don't laugh with him. You feel your chest tighten, and the knot in your throat return. Your vision clouds with tears, and you quickly got up, excusing yourself on the notion that your headache has returned, and that you should probably get some rest before drills the next day. You stumbled out of the cantina, breaking into a sprint as soon as you were out of sight. 
Poe’s eyes followed you as you left, worrying tinting his gaze. The group had fallen almost silent at your abrupt exit, looking at where you’d run, before turning back to Poe. Snap slapped the back of his head.
“Why, in the Maker’s name, would you say that?”
“What?” Poe said, rubbing the back of his head. Jess gave him a pointed look, “What did I say?”
“You joked about getting hurt, Poe! Why would you do that?”
“He didn’t just joke about getting hurt, Wex! He joked about almost dying!”
"Oh please, it's not that big of a deal. Everyone knew it was a joke. Right?" No one looks at him. "Right?!"
Jess waves at Paige, whose eyes were trained at the door. She meekly walks over, leaning down to talk to Jess. 
"Is she ok?" Paige asked, her eyes brushing over the group until they landed on Poe, "What did he do?"
Poe's eyes narrowed in confusion. "I'm so confused," he muttered under his breath.
"He made a joke.”
Snap butt in, “About almost dying."
Paige’s eyes widened, "You're not serious."
"Look, I don't know what's up with her today, but something tells me that that was the last thing she needed right now."
Paige turned towards Poe, "If you weren't injured right now, Captain, I would beat you up." 
"Hold up. I don't even know what I did." He said, standing up. "I get that the joke was a little misplaced, but it was a joke. I didn't put myself in this situation willingly."
"We get it, Poe. But you haven't been here. She's literally been destroyed - she's barely sleeping, I barely see her come down to eat, she spends all her time working on different ships, drowning herself in work. Today was the first day in the year she's been here that she's called in sick." Paige said, her eyes flitting between Poe and the door. She was in a half-mind to run after you, to console you. 
Poe beat her to it. He got up, ignoring the protest from his teammates, and headed towards your room. He knocked lightly on your door, hearing the gentle sobbing from your room.
His heart broke. He knocked again. 
“I’m fine Paige, I just need sleep.”
“Nice to know you’d lie to Paige.” Poe said, his voice steady and gentle. You open the door to you room, the door whooshing up to reveal Poe in all his glory, “Would you lie to your Captain?”
“Don’t pull rank with me, Poe.” You joked as he bent to meet your eyes.
He reached out to caress his fingers against your cheek and wipe away the stray tears. You leaned your head into his hands, the callouses on his hands like comfort against your cheek. He touches his forehead to your eyes, his eyes closed as if he couldn’t quite believe you were here. That this was happening. 
“I’m sorry.” You whispered. Poe’s eyes met yours, softly searching for something. Answers, probably.
“Why are you sorry, darling?” The pet name gripped your heart, so familiar and yet so foreign. The tears begin to flow freely again. He soothed you, mindlessly carding his fingers through your hair, “Don’t cry, don’t cry.” 
You look into his eyes, and can’t help but to sob harder. Why did you have to fall in love with him?
Your head curled into his chest, seeking the comfort only he could give. “Tell me what’s wrong.” He asked, whispering into your hair. 
“I didn’t mean to.” You said through tears. Poe looked at you.
“You didn’t mean to what, love?” He asked. You repeated it over and over, your tears soaking through his shirt. He lets you cry until your weak, pulling you further into his arms. 
He asks you again. 
“I didn’t mean to love you so much.” You confessed through whispers. It was so quiet that you thought that Poe didn’t catch what you said.
His widened eyes told you otherwise. 
“You…?”
“I love you.” You whispered.
“You-you love me?”
“I love you so much that whenever I see you my heart quickens until it’s uncomfortable.”
“Love -”
“I love you so much that my hands become so sweaty that I can barely keep a hold of my datapad.” You showed him your hands that were covered in a sheen. He gives you a watery laugh, before wiping your hands on his already soaked shirt. 
“I love you so much that when you leave, I can’t bear to survive.” 
“Love-” You interrupt him again.
“There’s no life without you, Poe.” Your voice broke as you dissolved into another bout of tears. 
“Love, please.” Poe sighed, kissing your forehead, “Please, just-”
“I know. It’s a war. I shouldn’t have, but I did and I can’t help it. Please don’t hate me, please-”
Poe grabbed your face, pulling you into him. He grazed his lips over yours, before pulling away way to fast. 
“I could never hate you, love.”
You pull him back towards you, smashing your lips onto his. He pulls you into his lap deepening the kiss further. You run your fingers through his hair, and over where the bandages cover his fresh wounds. Poe winced, and you pulled back. 
“You should rest. And heal up.”
He looked at you with such adoration, that for a moment you thought you’d melt away. “I have the rest of forever to heal up. I want this now.”
“You have me for the rest of forever. I think you should heal up now.” He rested his forehead against yours, sighing and closing his eyes. You kissed his nose gently.
“The rest of forever is too far away.” He whispered.
“You made me wait for this long. I think you could wait for a little longer.”
“Only a little bit, love. Only for you.”
He stood up, holding his hand out to you. You grabbed it, and he pulled you to your feet. The sudden motion had you dizzy, head pounding due to the dehydration. He caught you gently, lifting you into his arms, before gently depositing you on the bed. He left light kisses on your forehead, and left with the promise of coming back with water and a little food. 
He walked out of the mechanics wing and back towards the cantina, intent on his mission to get a little food and water into you. 
The whole of black squadron watched him walk in. Poe nodded to them lightly, not knowing exactly what they had been expecting. Apparently it was enough for them, as they turned back towards each other. 
He grabbed a small muffin and a bottle of water, before heading back to your room. He walked into see you asleep on the bed, and he couldn’t help but smile. God, she’s beautiful. 
Poe sat down on the bed, rubbing your arm gently. You opened a bleary eye to see Poe crouched next to you, blocking the moonlight streaming in from the window. He pulled off his shirt, and lifted your head up to get you drink some water, before settling down next to you. You rested your head on his chest before falling back to sleep.
Poe moved under you, pulling his necklace from around his neck and placing it around yours. Your hand immediately migrated to the metal ring strung on the end. Poe froze. What if it’s too soon. He relaxed almost immediately, as your fist closes around his rings.
He relaxed, pushing his nose into your hair. You smiled as he whispered something that he probably only said because he thought you were asleep.
“I love you too."
fin.
buy me a coffee
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