#poe fanfiction

[mermaidxatxheart]

Better Together Chapter Ten

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Warnings: as usual, mentions of torture, trauma, ptsd, Poe is an idiot but we love him.

Word Count: 3527

Series Master List

Chapter Nine

Poe’s meeting with the General took hours. She asked him about every detail of what happened. What did their base look like? Was it old looking? Had they been there a while? Did they build it or just find it? You apparently left out a lot of details of what happened to you and Leia wants him to fill in the blanks. She needs to know that you’re okay if she should ever need to send you on a mission again. 

Poe has had plenty of practice shoving his emotions into a box where they’ll never see the light of day. Those unpleasant things he sees stay locked away. It’s harder this time because of you, but he can do it. Also because of you. 

He glances at the clock, sighing internally when he realizes it’s past dinner time. You probably haven’t eaten, so focused on your work. He’s gonna have to do something about that. 

“Alright, Commander Dameron.” Leia says finally. She sounds exhausted. “You’re free to go. We’ll pick it up again tomorrow.”

“Get some rest, General.” He says gently before leaving her office. He rounds the corner in the hallway, headed for your lab, only to run into Snap.

“Poe.” He rushes, pulling him to a stop. 

“Hey, man. You get your ship fixed?” He asks curiously. 

“Yeah. Had to have Y/N help me.” He scratches at the back of his head. 

“Is she still in her lab? I bet she didn’t eat.” Poe turns to keep walking. 

“She’s not there.” Snap blurts abruptly. 

“Okay?” Poe frowns. “Is she in the mess hall?”

“There was an… incident… outside her lab today. A bunch of greenhorns were moving munitions and some crates tipped over. Blasters misfired.”

“Yeah, I heard about that. Connix came in to tell Leia.” Poe nods. 

“It happened right outside her lab.” Snap says with a sigh. “She was pretty shaken up so I gave her a sedative and left her asleep in her room. She wanted me to tell you so that you wouldn’t think she just forgot about you.” He says. 

Poe’s blood runs cold. “Is she okay?” 

“Yeah-no injuries or anything. But she said something about feeling like someone was behind her, stalking her. She didn’t look like she was going to calm down any time soon.” He says apologetically. 

“It’s okay. She’s been having that feeling lately. I think it’s just because of what happened.” Poe says, rubbing a hand over his face. “She was okay when you left her?”

“I waited until she fell asleep.” Snap nods. 

“Thanks, man.” Poe says, feeling his heart sink a little. He was really looking forward to seeing you. 

“Hey, I know what she means to you. Why do you think I like her so much? She’s just about the only one that can keep your dumb ass in line.” He says with a grin and Poe has to laugh. 

“True. I’ll see you later.” He says, heading for the dorms instead. He wants to check on you, to see you with his own eyes. He guesses this answers Leia’s question, at any rate. You’re gonna need more time. It took him a long time to learn not to freeze, either. 

He turns down your hallway and freezes as Bryce enters your room. He looks disheveled, hair a mess. His stomach turns and he wants to just go yank him out of there. He doesn’t fucking deserve you. Not that Poe does, either. But at least he doesn’t treat you like you’re something to be owned. 

He turns and stalks towards the hangar, needing to be working on something other than his rage.

***

Hours have gone by, alone-just the two of you. Strapped to those tables. Poe doesn’t speak. Maybe he thinks they’re listening, so he doesn’t want to give them anything to use? Or maybe he’s still pissed at you for kissing him in the river and getting you caught. You think back to your joke earlier about him wishing he had a more competent partner. He probably wishes that more than anything right now. 

So, you’re left with your thoughts, your guilt, your pain. Until a trooper with a red shoulder pauldron comes in, looking between the two of you. He’s quiet for an uncomfortable amount of time before he turns to his two subordinates. 

“Take her to the other room. I’d like to ask her questions in private.” He says. 

“No!” Poe growls, struggling against his binds. “You bastards!” He shouts. 

“Let him listen. I want him to hear her give up everything.” The trooper says, leaving the room. You struggle as they release you, but you’re still weak and in pain, so you don’t get far. They drag you out into the hallway and into a room a couple doors down. There, you’re strapped flat onto a table, head clamped in a vise so you can’t move one inch. 

“All you have to do is tell me where your base is. And then you don’t have to feel any more pain.” He says, bracing a hand against your shoulder and across your stomach to lean over you. “We can avoid all of this right now.” He tries. You spit in his helmeted face. 

“Fuck off.” You say quietly. He grabs your throat and squeezes until he’s cutting off your air completely. You begin to panic, trying to suck in air, but he has your windpipe choked off. 

“I tried to do this nicely. But now I get to have some fun.” He growls, releasing your neck violently. You cough, sucking down air. “You know,” he starts thoughtfully, “I heard once that Rebellion scum hide trackers in their bodies so that their rat friends can always find them.” He says. “What do you say? Let’s open her up, see if we can find out if the rumors are true?” 

One of the others picks up a blade, the edge is jagged. The other one pulls your shirt up, exposing your torso to them. The one with the blade presses it to your stomach. You can feel the pinch of it, turning white hot, blinding, then cold. It drags through your flesh, you only hold out for barely a few seconds before you start to scream in pain. The sound rips from your throat and you try to thrash him off, but you can’t move. 

He makes a long, deep gash, and then he sticks his gloved fingers inside it. You can feel them moving around inside you, ripping at your muscles as he searches for something they know isn’t there. You sob and scream, running out of air. 

“Nothing.” He says.

“Move on. Next area. Maybe over here.” The leader says and another jagged gash is made, ripping apart your skin. His whole fist is pushed inside this time and your voice breaks as you scream. 

“And here? This seems like a logical place.” Another cut, deeper. And another. Finally- “hmm. We’ll have to look in other places tomorrow. Close her up. Put her back in the room.” He says dismissively. 

You’re nearly blind with pain, great body wracking sobs are tearing through you. And then come the staples. They don’t sew you closed, or glue, or cauterize. They staple you shut. You’ve lost so much blood as they wrap a bandage around you, holding you together until they can take you apart tomorrow. 

They wheel you back in and strap you to the prison table again, no fight from you this time. You’re too weak, you have nothing left to fight with. 

“What did you do to her? What did you do?” Poe screams. 

“Same time tomorrow, then.” The leader says, leaving the room. 

You can hear Poe saying your name, calling you. You flash on a conversation you had a long time ago with him on how to handle the torture, in theory. 

“You just have to find something you’re afraid of more than the pain, I think.” He said, laying with his head in your lap. “I think of all my friends here, back home. The ones still fighting for the soul of all the galaxies. If they die because I fail, because I can’t handle a little pain? That’s something I can’t live with. The pain ends, one way or another. The pain ends. They can still fight because I was strong enough.” 

You just have to find that one thing you’re afraid of more. Letting Poe down, betraying that confidence he has in you. Even if you die in here, you won’t do it knowing you’ve betrayed him and everything he’s fought so hard for. 

“I’m okay.” You tell him, dropping your head back. “I’m okay.”

You bolt upright, pain flaring through your torso, hitting your head on something hard. 

“Fuck! Babe!” Bryce groans, rolling over. You cover your mouth, stifling a cry. “That fucking hurt.” He complains. You twist your head away, unable to speak just yet. Your shoulders shake as you try desperately to get your crying under control. “Oh.” He says simply. “Come here.” He pulls you back against his chest, holding you. But it’s not a comfort. It’s restrictive, controlling. “Let me help you.” He murmurs, his hand sliding down your arm. It ghosts over your hip and starts to head between your thighs. 

“N-no!” You push his hand away. You don’t want this, not right now. You’re fucking crying and he thinks this is the solution?

“It’ll help you relax.” He insists. 

“Stop, Bryce.” You grab his wrist and try to pull his hand away.

“You know, you’re being so fucking selfish. You’re not the only one who suffered for the last three weeks.” He grumbles. “I’m trying to help you. Cumming will make you relax.” He says, fighting against your hand to keep his own where he wants it. 

“Maybe, if you actually knew how to make me cum!” You fire back, not even registering what you said at first. He stops then, just for a second before he pushes you off the bed and climbs out, himself. 

“Fuck you. I was only trying to help. You’ve been back for almost a week and we haven’t once had sex. I haven’t pressured you or anything.” He pulls on his pants. 

“I was unconscious for three days, you asshole!” You shout, reaching for your own pants. 

“Yeah? And whose fucking fault was that? Huh? Yours.” 

You grab your shoe and throw it at his head. “Get the fuck out!” You scream, voice breaking. 

He ducks and grabs your shoe, throwing it back even harder and pegging you in the stomach with it. “Gladly! Crazy bitch.” He retorts, opening your door and leaving. You double over, gasping for air. Pain echoes through your body, reverberating from your stitches. You can’t breathe, this room is too small, everything is too close. You grab your favorite hoodie, and your blanket, making your way out to the tower. 

You can’t stop crying, your eyes are raw as you climb the ladder. It’s empty, which is good-but also disappointing. You could use Poe right now. But you don’t wanna have to explain why you can’t stop crying. He never found out what they did to you in that room, you never told him. And you don’t want him to find out like this. And then Bryce. You don’t want him to go after Bryce, you couldn’t stand it if Poe got hurt again because of you. 

You’ve already done more than enough damage to both of them. And maybe Bryce is right, you are being selfish. 

You sit on the floor of the tower, knees tucked up to your chest, pressing into your eyeballs to soak up the tears as they fall. Your ribs hurt from sobbing so hard, your throat is scratchy and raw. 

Maybe you deserve all this pain. 

The hatch door opens and a head pokes through. “Y/N?” Poe’s voice reaches your ears and you hunch over tighter, a whole new and different kind of pain taking over. “Sweetheart?” He pauses. “If you don’t want me here, I can go.” He offers. 

You hold out your hand, begging him silently to take it. You don’t want him to leave. You are selfish. His hand slips into yours and he climbs the rest of the way up. He sits next to you and pulls you close to him. When you don’t relax into his arms, he shifts you onto his lap, bracing his feet against the floor to cradle you on his legs. 

“Did I do something wrong?” He asks softly and you shake your head, keeping your face covered. “Okay. As long as you’re not mad at me.” He says softly, stroking your hair. Another round of sobs starts and he holds you close. His mouth presses against the crown of your head and he starts to hum softly. His voice breaks in places when it goes too soft, or too low, it’s rough, scratchy, but you love it. 

He never shifts, never complains that you’ve made his legs fall asleep. He just holds you until you stop crying, just letting you get it all out. Eventually, you stop. The crying fades to quiet sniffles, and you go to move out of his lap, but he holds you tighter. 

“Your l-legs.” You croak, and he shifts you so you’re facing his chest instead, legs on either side of his hips. 

“I’m fine. Just stay with me.” He mumbles, pulling your hair back from your face. That sets you sniffling again and he chuckles. “Sad girl. I’m sorry I wasn’t there earlier.” He says, tilting his face into your neck. 

You groan. “Of course, Snap told you.” 

“You asked him to.” He says, wrapping his arms around you. “Is that what you’re crying about?” He whispers. 

“Not… not completely.” You mumble, squeezing your arms around your torso. 

“I’m ready to listen whenever you’re ready to talk.” He promises. “Until then, we can just sit here.” He presses a kiss to your jaw, the closest part he can reach and you whine, reluctant to start crying again, but he’s just tugging at those strings. 

“Were you mad at me? For not being there when you got out of your meeting?” You ask, for a distraction. 

“No, sweetheart. Snap was right there. Told me everything. I actually was going to come see you, make sure you were okay.” He says, trailing off. 

You remember who you woke up next to and your distraction hasn’t worked out so well. “You saw B-Bryce come into my room?” You guess, voice wavering. 

“He beat me there by mere seconds.” He sighs. 

“Wish it had been you.” You whisper, squeezing your eyes shut. 

“Did you two fight?” He asks, his hands rubbing gently on your back. 

“Sort of. It’s a long-“ you cut off. Why are you defending Bryce? He hasn’t done anything lately but pick fights with you, be insensitive, uncaring, rude, and downright violent with you. He doesn’t deserve your good graces. 

But Poe. He’s going to be mad. You don’t want him to get hurt, but should he know? 

“I’ve got all the time in the world, cariño.” He whispers. 

You should tell him. It’s eating you alive to keep this inside, already you want to start crying again. “I had a nightmare, about… a-about the planet, and when I woke up, Bryce was there. And he,” you sigh, the words sticking in your throat. Why does admitting them make you feel so weak? “He got mad because I accidentally hit him.” Poe chuckles at that. “And then he tried to start sex, saying it would calm me down and I didn’t want it. Then he called me selfish for withholding it from him. Apparently, I wasn’t the only one who was suffering for the last three weeks. And it’s been almost a whole week since I’ve been back and I haven’t given it up for him yet.” You say, your anger rushing back to you. “I threw my shoe at his head.” You say. 

“Did it hit him?” Poe asks. His voice is dangerously quiet. 

“No, he caught it and threw it back. It hit my… my stomach.” You say, changing your words at the last minute. He still doesn’t know about all your stitches. 

“Are you okay?” He asks, his hands coming to a standstill on your back. 

“No. I’m mad. And everything hurts. And I’m so tired.” 

“Wanna come back to my room? We can sleep on my bed. Nice and comfy.” He offers. 

“You’re not comfortable there.” You remind him. 

“That’s because I’m alone. If you were there, I think I would be.” 

“Poe,” you lean back a little and he cups your face. There are so many emotions crossing his face. Worry, stress, anger, but most predominantly, affection. “Okay. We can try.” You nod. 

“Whenever you’re ready.” He says softly.  

“I’m getting up.” You mumble and he grins, watching you not move at all. 

“Doing so good.” 

You sigh and brace your hands against his shoulders, pushing yourself up. “I hope your bed is really comfortable.” You say, taking his hand and pulling him to his feet. 

“You’ll be comfortable.” He assures you. He heads down the ladder first, checking to make sure the coast is clear. Not that anyone is awake at three in the morning anyway. 

You climb down and follow him towards the dorms. “Go ahead to my room. I’ll be right there, okay?” He says and you frown. 

“But,” 

He kisses you softly. “I’m just gonna grab something. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Alright. Just… please don’t take too long.”

“I’ll be back before you know it.” He nudges you and you traipse towards his quarters, letting your thoughts drift towards what he could be getting. Your imagination must be too tired to think of anything good, because all you can come up with is a toothbrush. 

Maker, you’re exhausted. You haven’t slept right in over a month. Plagued by nightmares, torture, both on an endless loop. Your eyes itch to slide shut, your body craving that sweet release of letting go. But your mind can’t seem to get the message. Any time you have a free moment to yourself, it wants to dredge up those worst memories, making it impossible to relax. 

You find the button for Poe’s door and release it, stepping inside. The room is… a mess. Clothes, his helmet, flight suit, papers-everything tossed around in a sort of organized mess. You can see, from the way it landed, where it originated from. His papers had been on his desk, clothes on his dresser, helmet most likely on his bed. It was like he threw everything in a fit of rage or something. 

Not that you didn’t understand that sentiment completely. There have been a few moments with Bryce where you’ve wanted to do something similar. Not having anything else to do while you wait, you carefully pick up and fold his clothes, setting them back on the dresser. His papers, you pile neatly on his desk. His heavy helmet, you set on top of his papers as the door hisses open. 

Poe enters with a duffel bag over his shoulder and two cups in his hands. “Oh, I forgot about the mess.” He says, his ears twinging in embarrassment. 

“Does it help?” You ask, taking the hot cups so he can set the bag down. 

“Does what help?” He asks, unzipping it on the bed. 

“Throwing things, when you get pissed, does it help?” You ask.

He thinks about it for a long minute. “No. Not really.”

“Does pushing people away help?” 

“No. It just makes you alone.” He shakes his head.

You give a little sigh. “What did you get?” You ask, peering over his shoulder. 

“Your pillow and an extra blanket.” He says, spreading them out on the bed. He climbs under the covers, getting himself in position and then gestures for you to join him. 

The pillow taunts you, mocking your lack of ability to sleep. Poe’s warm smile is patient. You feel like he could never be mad at you when he looks at you like that. 

“I’ll keep you safe.” He promises, lifting the covers for you. Reluctantly, you climb under and shift, laying your head on his chest. 

“If I wake up from a nightmare, you might get hurt.” You whisper, head lifting gently with every breath he takes. 

“I can handle it.” He says softly, stroking your hair and down your back. 

Words bubble up to your lips, safe in the darkness like this. But you can’t say them, you don’t deserve to say them. Poe deserves better than you, what you’ve done, what’s been done to you. He deserves to find someone unbroken, undamaged. 

You twist your face into his chest to stifle the tears. He holds you tight, pressing his lips to the top of your head. “It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay, sweetheart.” He says softly. 

It takes you a lot longer than you’d like to admit to get yourself under control, but eventually you fall into an uneasy sleep. 

Chapter Eleven

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[biggestsimponhere]

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.

[teencopandthesourwolf]

“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)

[januaryembrs]

HOT UNDER THE HELMET | Poe Dameron x Mechanic!Reader

Request: Hi, would you mind writing for Poe Dameron where Poe accidentally injures the reader (whose a mechanic), which is how they meet for the first time. And would you mind using the dialogue prompt “Oh, oh my god! It was an accident! I’m so sorry!”? 

Description: Poe finds out the hard way the best mechanic in the resistance is also most beautiful woman he’s ever seen; too bad you’re so hot headed. 

word count: 1.5k

trigger warnings: sexism, fire, women in stem facing problems even in space (because ofcourse they do).

main masterlist

As much as you would love to admit times of war made people more benevolent towards each other, you’d be dead wrong. Not only had you been one of the only females in the resistance who knew her way around a wrench, but as it also turned out, not even the risk of dying could pull a males head out of his arse. 

You heard snickering before you saw them. The other three mechanics in your squadron crowded around a starfighter, laughing to themselves as they watched you tinker with a leaky engine, your body strewn across a lying board as you worked above yourself, your tools against your foot. 

Rolling out from underneath the ship, you paid them no mind as you searched for a screwdriver small enough to fit the flathead you needed removing. Scanning your work area, that you were proud to say you kept much neater than the blaster brained males you shared a space with, your brow furrowed when you saw your equipment nowhere to be seen. 

“Looking for something?” You heard Zagg, one of the males, say, and you felt a rage boil up inside you at the smug look on their faces as you regarded them with a sweaty, pissed off expression. 

“Where’d you boneheads put it?” You snapped, hauling yourself to your feet as you approached them hotly, your scowl only growing as they burst out laughing, “Real mature. The galaxy is going to bantha fodder, and you guys are hiding my tools,”

“You know, if you need help from someone who knows what they’re doing, you could just ask,” The tallest of the trio, Bran, goaded you, a smarmy smile on his face as he watched your cheeks puff with exhaustion, whirling around to charge up to him, no matter if you did have to turn your neck upwards to confront the pig of a male. 

“Why don’t you pick on someone your own size, instead of going after little girls who make you look like rookies,” You hissed, eying up the other two who seemed to exchange a sneer, “Leia chose me herself, handpicked me from the academy. You three nerf herders got through on sheer size alone, and it’s obvious you feel the need to compensate everywhere else possible,” 

You sauntered away, back towards the rear of the workshop where spare apparatus was kept, banging around the drawers with a foul mood, muttering about how useless the opposite sex was in times of crisis. 

As if he had heard the call of a siren, Poe strolled into the hangar, fully suited with his helmet under his arm, an all too cheery smile on his face for the belly of the beast he was unknowingly heading straight for. 

Catching the eye of one of the mechanics, a freakishly tall man that seemed to be chatting to the other two as they stood around an X-wing with a huge hole ripped into the body of it, he watched the worker drop his bitter face and regard him with raised eyebrows when he saw the chirpy pilot approach.

“General,” He nodded respectfully, though there was not a single trace of regard on his face. “You’ve come for your ship?”

“Leia said you had your best guy on it?” He said, almost missing the way the three of them nodded hesitantly, “She said it should be ready today,”

“Right this way, General Dameron,” The shorter, beefy one said, leading him away to a pristine looking starfighter, by far in the best shape he could see it being without it being brand new. He thought he caught a snigger behind him as the mechanic, whose oiled badge read as Kripply, took him over to the ship, “Why don’t you give her a whirl? As you said, we had our very best on the case,” 

Poe looked at him with an odd mix of a smile and wariness as he couldn’t miss the devilish excitement the man looked at him with. Had he sat in paint again, he wondered. Finn had had a field day walking him around the entire compound with two white ass cheek marks on his suit, he wouldn’t put it past his co-pilot to try his luck again seeing as Poe had been the one to win at cards last night and had not so graciously rubbed his credits in the man’s face. 

“Sure, let’s give this baby a whirl,” He said after a moment, his hair falling all over the place as he shoved his helmet over his thick, sable locks. 

Maybe he had a case of bedhead, he wondered. Afterall, he’d not exactly been sober as he’d stumbled back to his room last night, his winnings buying him round after round of smuggled Corellian Whiskey. 

He hopped up onto the wing, yanking himself into the cockpit that had been cleaned thoroughly, and he didn’t know why he ever doubted his repair team if this was the condition they left their vehicles in. The engine hummed to life as he flicked the tiny lever, and he couldn’t help but appreciate the oddly floral smell inside the small flight deck, and he wondered if they had gone so far as to spray freshener in there. 

You had found a spare tightener that would fit the screw, the last thing that needed fastening up before the engine should be good to run, Leia’s general would be by any second now. 

Rolling back under the vehicle, you tuned out the way Zagg cackled over the sound of an engine springing to life, you assumed their own, focusing on the tiny panel you had yet to cover the machinery with to protect the pilot from any stray blaster fire cutting the engine. 

But no sooner had you settled on your back beneath the jet, your hand reaching up for the metal sheet, you heard the familiar rumble of oil being fired through the motor, the drums whirling as the ignition started and a short blast of heat hit you in the face. 

You blanched as you knew that meant, knew what would come shooting out any second now. Heat always got kicked out of the engine first, the left over energy dishcharged out of the bottom grate. Because then came the fire as it sprung to life.

Your hand came up before you could think through what you were doing, the hard work you were unravelling in the interest of keeping your face intact, your brain from turning to crispy mush, as you yanked the oil pipe from where you’d connected it to the drum, the thick black liquid pouring over your entire body as you stumbled from out beneath the plane, just incase your plan hadn’t worked. 

You heard the engine cut, the sound of the cockpit sliding open as someone cursed from above, and you were filled with a new wave of rage as two feet jumped from the wing above you, turning to the three men who watched with entertained chuckles. 

“What happened, I thought you said-” Poe had started chewing out the males who didn’t seem to care all too much about the fact the jet had broken down, when he felt two hands shove him from behind, and he spun on his heel with annoyance. 

His face dropped entirely when he saw you, covered head to toe in a thick, gunky oil, your nostrils flaring as you glared at him with a heat he had yet to see from a woman before.

Usually women were so receptive to his charming good looks. Not this one it seemed. 

“What the kriff was that, man,”  You yelled, shoving his chest again with your slimy hands, and he quickly put it together what had been the problem. 

“What that me?” His brows flew into his hair line as you looked at him like he’d just learned there were stars in the sky, “Oh, maker! It was an accident! I’m so sorry!”  

“Oh he’s sorry. Thank goodness he’s sorry,” You threw your arms up, wiping the oil away from your eyes with slippy hands, and Poe had no idea what to say for the best. 

Though, he supposed telling you you were by far the prettiest woman he’d seen in moons was not the correct thing to go for, despite the fact it was the first thing he’d thought. 

“I’m a decorated pilot, I would never intentionally-” He spluttered, but you had already turned away, heading towards a small work bench where a bunch of old, dirty rags lay, supposedly for hands only. 

“You can decorate my ass, general. You’re waiting another week for that plane,” You seethed, barely regarding him over your shoulder. 

And he stood there, speechless, because what was he supposed to say. No one had ever spoken down to him like that, not since he’d grown into his good looks and had women falling at his feet to be near him. Certainly not since he’d become leader. 

You huffed past him, as he was rooted to the spot, jaw hung slack as you left the workshop, cursing him out clearly to yourself, and it was only then that he turned to the other three males who had watched him get his ass served to him with another round of sniggers. “Who in the maker was she?”

[eyelessfaces]

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

“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!!

star wars taglist: @apollo-enthusiast @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious @stvnnie

+ @flightlessangelwings

[theywhowriteandknowthings]

Why Don't You Punish Me Then? Poe Dameron x F!Reader

For @for-a-longlongtime and this Ask Summary: You and Poe are in denial, but it's clear you're insatiable for one another. Warnings: Bondage, Voyeurism, pet names, public petting, bratty behaviour, switch dynamics, sub/dom dynamics, cucking (with a toy), orgasm denial play, unprotected PiV(but established relationship so some assumed assurances), cable-ties, questionable physics. (Set somewhere in the time Leia is still alive, RIP Space Queen, we love you Carrie <3 ) Thank you @noxturnalpascal and @merz-8 for doing a quick sweep of this for me <3 [AO3] Wordcount: 3.1k

Poe can’t stop touching you under the table during the debriefing. It’s been weeks since you were last in the same room and as impatient as you are to be alone with Poe, he’s kriffing insatiable.

“Stop,” you hiss under your breath as Commander Organa addresses the room. You’re sat at the very back, the lighting around you soft enough that even though you’re practically sat in Poe’s lap, no-one seems to notice – or care.

You two are the worst kept secret in the fleet, but neither of you have the guts to make anything official. It’s hard to place permanent labels on things when you’re in the midst of an intergalactic war.

“Stop what?” He asks as he brushes his lips against your ear, his right hand trailing up the inside of your left thigh as you try not to squirm. Heat pulses through you with every minuscule movement of his fingers as he inches up your thigh.

From the outside, it might look like Poe is whispering something about the mission. The pair of you are known to conspire during meetings, and critique mission briefings, much to command’s ire. But only you are privy to the way your cunt clenches at the wet drag of Poe’s tongue against the shell of your ear.

“You’re going to get us in trouble,” you hiss, your breath catching in your throat as you feel two thick fingers stroke against the front of your jumpsuit, “Quit it.”

“You need to work on your poker-face,” he taunts you as he rubs firmly up and down against your clothed cunt. You have to stifle a moan at the way the friction makes your toes curl. Heat pools in your core and you stop yourself from bucking your hips to chase the delicious friction.

“You need to stop, seriously,” you snap as you gently prise his hand away from your aching core.

“Or what? Are you going to punish me?” Poe rasps in your ear as he entwines his fingers in yours, guiding your hand to his lap. You bite your lip as you feel his hard cock swelling under your fingers as he holds your hand against the front of his tight pants.

“You deserve it, horny asshole,” you hiss as you notice Leia’s eyes wander over to the pair of you.

“Do you two have something you’d like to share?” She asks, looking pointedly between you.

“No ma’am.”

The pair of you say in unison and Leia rolls her eyes at you before continuing. You can almost hear her telepathically telling you two to get a room.

“See how you make me feel?” Poe continues his verbal assault on your self-control as he slowly grinds his clothed dick against the palm of your hand. His hand is back on your thigh now, but you don’t move your own from his cock. You’re practically salivating at the promise his rock-hard bulge infers.

“I do,” you breathe as you grip him through his pants, “But I don’t think you deserve to be rewarded for this behaviour, Dameron.”

“Why don’t you punish me then?” He growls in your ear as you feel his thick fingers grind against your clothed clit.

“Meet me in my quarters,” you snap as the meeting finishes up and the rest of the mission crew depart. You catch Leia giving you an amused grin as you leave, you swear one of these days she’s going to call you out on your joint bullshit, but not today. She knows you two have some catching up to do.

~*~

Poe crashes his lips against yours the moment your door opens, pinning you to him with his large hands on your hips. You lean into his strong form as you lick into his pliable mouth. He walks you back to the bed and before he can push you down you hook your foot behind his ankle and push him off-balance. You turn him around deftly as you press him down onto your small cot.

“Missed you so much,” he groans as he pulls you flush against him, one hand pawing at your right breast as the other slides the zipper of your jumpsuit down.

“Missed you too, now strip,” you bark as you slide back off his lap, continuing to undress as you watch Poe scramble to pull off his clothes. His eager eyes are on you as he lies bare, his thick cock weeping against his abdomen as he looks up at you.

“So needy,” you admonish him as you continue to slowly peel off your suit. You kick off your boots and stand there in your cotton panties and bra as he fawns up at you, “You’re being punished remember? Up on the pillows like a good boy.”

Poe whines softly at the condescension in your tone but does as he’s told, shuffling back up against the far wall of the cot.

“Good, arms up,” you order as you crawl up the bed to meet him before leaning down to the nightstand, “Remember your safe word?”

“Geonosis,” Poe recites it quickly, tongue darting out over his dry lips as he watches you, his body twitches as he tries to stay still.

“Good,” you coo as you pull out a bundle of cable-ties, “Stay still.”

You straddle Poe’s hips as you pull out the anchor point from the wall above him, something you’d had installed off the books by one of the ship’s mechanics. Nothing like exchanging a good bottle of liquor and a carton of death sticks for discretion on a Resistance fleet ship.

“Please,” Poe whimpers as you let your tits brush against his face as you loop the cable-ties through the anchor and around his wrists, “Can I?” He asks as he looks between your hardened peaks and your face.

“As long as you promise to be good?” You taunt as you lean forwards, brushing your right breast agains his lips. You stifle a moan as you feel him latch onto the stiff nub.

“Promise,” he murmurs against your skin as he suckles gently on your tit. Your head lolls back as he gently nips at the tender flesh, sending pleasure rippling through your body. You grind your hips forward, your wet slit gliding along his length as he groans into your breast.

“Love your tits,” he mewls as you offer him the second one, he takes it greedily into his wet mouth as he strains against his bonds, “So fucking perfect.”

You let out soft moans as he worships your tits, pressing his face between them occasionally as he mouths at your sternum.

“Please, let me fuck you?” He whimpers and a delicious smirk plays across your lips.

“Begging already? Such an eager boy,” you hum as you lower yourself onto Poe’s lap, the sticky, silken press of his cock against your ass cheeks makes his eyes roll back into his head.

“Please,” he whines again, and you rock your ass back against him a little as he bites his lip, his eyes glassy with desire as he pleads.

“No,” you say as you lean forward to press your lips against his, “You’re just going to have to watch.”

Poe’s face drops as he registers your words, pulling on the cable-ties as they dig into his wrists. His jaw tenses as you move backwards off him, making sure to drag his tip through your soaked folds as you do.

“You’re being cruel,” he pouts, but you can see the ghost of a smile on his lips as he tries not to show quite how much he’s enjoying this. It’s supposed to be punishment after all.

You pull a flat-bottomed desk chair up to the base of the bed, positioning so that the seat is in perfect eyesight for Poe. You secure the maglocks on the chair legs with a solid thunk against the Durasteel floor. You don’t want to risk toppling over mid-flow.

Once you’re happy the chair is secure, you rummage in one of your closets for a few moments before turning back to see Poe’s eyes trained on you. He’s beautifully desperate as his stumbled jaw ticks to the side, eyes almost bulging out of his head as his feet twitch in anticipation.

You saunter back over to the chair and with a flick of your wrist you slap a large silicone cock onto the chair. You’ve practiced this so well that the suction cup at the base takes first time. The black dildo wobbles precariously and Poe’s dick twitches as you steady it with your hand.

“If I can get myself off before you come, I’ll let you fuck me, however you want,” you explain, your voice low and dripping with challenge as you position your hips over the bulbous head of the black silicone dick, “So hold on tight, flyboy.”

You ease yourself down, groaning as you slowly spear yourself on the thick cock, your cunt is slick and inviting from all the teasing Poe had put you through earlier. You plant your feet on the floor, engaging your core as you start to move.

“Kriff, wish that was me,” Poe whines as you watch his hips buck up, chasing friction where there is none as he pulls on the cable-ties. His eyes are hooded as he watches your cunt take the toy with ease.

“Look at that needy cunt,” he growls, “Taking that fake cock so well,” he continues, and the gravelly rasp of his voice sends a lick of flame down your spine.

“Feels so good,” you sigh as you take the last few inches, the life-like toy rakes through your walls as it stretches you out, “So full,” you mewl as you drop your dominant hand down to your clit, the other hand tweaks each of your nipples in turn.

“Yeah? Feel as good as my cock?” Poe asks as you watch precome bead on his tip and leak down his shaft.

“Different,” you say as you wiggle your hips, making sure the toy is as deep as it can go.

You whine a little as you start to move, dropping one hand to steady yourself on the chair before rising all the way to the tip of the cock before letting yourself slide back down. You toy with your clit in slow, firm circles as you try to keep your eyes open and focused on Poe.

“Oh yeah,” Poe growls as he aimlessly thrusts up into the air as he watches you impale yourself on the toy, “Putting on a show for me, so kriffing hot.”

“You like it?” You pant as you start to rhythmically fuck yourself on the toy, “Like watching me cuck you with a fake cock?”

“I hate it,” Poe whimpers as you watch another pulse of precome leak from his tip, “Want to drag you down on my dick and fuck you dumb until all you can think about is begging for me to fill that sweet little cunt with my come.”

“Poe,” you whine as his vulgar words make you clench hard around the toy, “Think you can last, big boy? Or are you going to come all over your stomach like a pathetic, needy boy?”

You had intended to take it slow, make Poe fail to prove a point, but the more filth he spills from his pretty lips, the more it makes you greedy. You pick up the pace, fucking yourself in earnest on the slick silicone. Your breath comes in short, desperate pants as you feel your thighs burn with exertion.

“Who’s impatient now?” Poe teases as he bites his lip, his eyes fixed on your cunt as it glistens in the low light of your bunk, “Fucking soaked, fucking yourself so hard, you want my dick don’t you baby? Admit it.”

“Nuh-uh, punishing you,” you whimper meekly as your breathing hitches in your chest. The tight coil of pleasure twists in your core as you chase your pleasure with abandon. All you want is to feel Poe inside you, you’re tired of the games.

“Fucking slut, lying to my face,” he growls and you can’t hold on anymore, your cunt flutters around the toy as you spear yourself over and over as you feel your orgasm rip through you, “There she is,” he purrs as you hear the strain in his voice, “Good fucking girl.”

“Hate you,” you whine as you tremble and convulse, leaning back in the chair as your cunt pulses around the toy still buried deep inside you.

“I know baby,” Poe says, strain evident in his voice as he watches your chest rise and fall, slick pooling at the base of the toy and over the chair as you come down from your high, “Let me make you feel better, make it up to you yeah?”

“Might just leave you tied up,” you grumble, but you’re smiling and Poe’s smirk matches your own.

“Deal’s a deal,” Poe tuts at you as he twists the cable-ties in his fists, “Do you need help, princess?”

You hear the snap of the cable-ties and your eyes fly open as you see Poe up on his knees, already rubbing his chafed wrists.

“How did you-?” You splutter as you try and get up onto your feet but Poe lurches forward on the bed, pinning your hips down as he keeps you speared on the toy. You mewl and writhe from overstimulation, his large hands burning against your slick skin as he holds you there.

“Come on, you really need to invest in a good set of binders,” he hums as he nudges your jaw to the side as he takes your lobe in his teeth, “I’ve gotten out of more complex restraints in far more dire scenarios baby.”

“Poe, please,” you whine as he sucks slowly on your lobe, making you whole body tremble, “Need you.”

“I know,” he says with an edge to his tone, “I’ve got you.”

You cry out as he eases you up and off the toy, your cunt clenching around nothing at the sudden emptiness. You throw your arms around his shoulders as he slots his lips over yours. Poe spins in a slow circle before laying you on your back.

“Meant it earlier,” he mumbles through tender, hungry kisses, “I missed you so much.”

“Missed you too,” you pant as he shifts you up onto the pillows, already lining his throbbing tip at your core. One broad hand is steady on your hip, rubbing soothingly over your slick skin as his thighs hold your trembling legs apart.

“Ready for me?” He asks, a gentleness to his tone as he nudges the plane of his nose against your own.

“Always,” you say softly as you feel his tip breach your stretched out hole.

You sigh in unison as Poe enters you in one swift movement, the hand not holding your hip comes to cup your cheek.

“Isn’t that better?” He breathes as he slowly starts to rock his hips, pulling almost all the way out before pressing back in. No matter how much the toy had stretched you out, there’s a hot, blissful burn as you adjust to the real deal.

“Kriff, yes,” you cry out as he fucks down hard into you, setting the pace as you writhe under him, “I love it, I love it, I love y-!”

You catch yourself before you let the admission slip but you can see it in the way Poe’s face softens, he heard enough.

“I love you too,” he snarls through clenched teeth as he ruts into you harder than before, the tip of his cock grinding against your g-spot as you feel another orgasm cresting deep inside you.

“Not,” you grunt as a smile burns across your lips, “How I wanted to say that,” you giggle a little with exhilaration as you drop your dominant hand to your clit. The other fists in the curls at the back of Poe’s head.

“No better time,” Poe grins, his cock driving into your cunt with wet, desperate slaps, “Kriffing love you.”

You pull Poe’s head down, slipping your tongue between his lips as you feel the blinding pleasure peak inside you. You groan into his mouth as your release bursts through you, your cunt clamping down hard around Poe’s cock as he snaps his hips one last time before spilling deep inside you.

You lie there, tangled, drenched in one another’s sweat, and panting into each other’s open mouths as you can’t stop smiling. Poe peppers your face with gentle kisses as you feel him slip out of you. Immediately you feel your combined spend leak from you, dribbling down your ass and onto the sheets below.

“Why do we always get my sheets dirty?” You groan as Poe rolls off you, propping himself up on his elbow as he trails his fingertips down your chest, splaying his hand out across your belly as he leans down to place a soft kiss to your temple.

“Because you’re the one with the sex anchor in your quarters,” he grumbles and you can’t help but laugh.

“Fine, you’ve got a point,” you sigh as you look up into his dark eyes as they shine with affection.

“Did you mean it?” He asks softly, brushing his knuckles back up to your breasts, the coarse skin raking across your nipples and making you whine.

“That I love you?” You ask, your voice breathy as you scrape your blunt nails across Poe’s near-permanent five o’clock shadow.

“Yeah,” he breathes as he turns his head to press his lips against your palm.

“I did,” you say, heat prickling under the skin of your cheeks and up to the tips of your ears, “I just didn’t know if we were doing the whole feelings thing.”

“Same,” he admits with a heavy sigh, “But I don’t think I can keep pretending anymore.”

“Yeah,” you yawn as you trace the curve of his plush lips with your fingertips, “We need to talk to command about this,” you say, sobering a little as you feel the harsh tug of reality wrapping around your heart.  

“Tomorrow,” Poe says softly as he leans back down to kiss you softly, “Right now we need to get showered and move to my bed, there’s less come on the sheets in my bunk.”

“Ever the romantic,” you laugh as you press your forehead against his.

It takes you another half an hour but eventually you’re tangled together in Poe’s cot, hearts hammering in unison as reality sets in. But for once you’re not running from the truth of who and what you and Poe are.

[jake-g-lockley]

Can I have prompt 23 and 27 with Poe Dameron, with a side of enemies to lovers please?

Feels Right (Poe Dameron x reader)

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist | Wanna be Tagged?

Prompts: "you are, without a doubt, the most annoying person i've ever crossed paths with. and don't even get me started on the sound of your voice." and "please shut up. i can't stand how appealing your voice is."'

A/N: HALLU! Firstly, thank you for this request nonnie! Sorry it took me so freaking long to complete, had a busy few months :”) 

Warnings: MDNI, smut, a little bit of dub-con, dry humping, dom!Poe, sub!reader, bondage, fingering, oral (f receiving), protected p in v, a bit of angst, lots of fluff, swearing, jealousy, possessive Poe. 

Word count: 5.3k

 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You couldn't stand his voice. You wanted him to shut up, your only thought in your head was "Please shut up. I can't stand how appealing your voice is.”  You couldn’t stand the way he looked at everyone, so full of hope. You couldn’t stand the way his curls bounced when he turned his head or the way his eyes sparkled when they came in contact with yours.

It was all too much.

You raised your hand the second he asked whether there were other questions. He narrowed his eyes but like the good receptive leader he was, he nodded at you.

“This is less of a question and more of a request. I’d just like to say that I need people to start keeping the hangar clean and stop parking x-wings wherever you please, only for me to wake up in the morning and dock the ships for you. What are y’all? A bunch of five year olds?” you huffed, your hands on your hips.

You were addressing everyone in the room, but your eyes were steadily trained on the Black Leader, who had a small smirk on his face. He walked around the table and your eyes followed him while you spoke, holding your head high as he approached you. 

“You heard your commander, folks!” he addressed the room with one of his charming smiles.

Leaning in, he whispers. “Although, I can’t say I’ll be the one keeping the promise, darling.”

You stiffened at the sound of his voice. He was too close and you wanted to body slam him onto the floor so that you would not have to hear him for a while.You flinched slightly as he brought his hands together for a clap.

“All right, everyones dismissed.” 

You stood rooted to your spot, glaring at the General as he went to pick up his data pad. 

“Oh fuck you, Dameron.” you mumbled to his back.

“Say it with a little more chest and I’ll be down, Commander.”  he turned his head to you and smirked. 

Those lips.

Those fucking lips. 

The one time you caved into them made you regret every possible living day you’ve had since. The way those lips had carved out the secret between you two made it seem unbreakable. You craved the taste, but you were too stubborn to satisfy the craving and you had a feeling he knew you were holding back, the passing glances and glares holding something a little more than just resentment.

“You, Dameron, are, without a doubt, the most annoying person I've ever crossed paths with. and don't even get me started on the sound of your voice." you snap.

“Hmm, would you like my voice to say something only for your ears, sweet angel?” He replied so smoothly that you almost let yourself smile, but you resisted, clenching your jaw hard. 

You scowled through your heating cheeks and you let out a sharp breath as the door closed behind him. Over the past few years, that voice has been the bane of your existence. Always saying something cocky, vain or insulting. That didn’t help to cure your insatiable need for him though. 

You’d spend your nights dreaming away about the way he would sound, if you ever got the chance to get under him. How would his lips feel against the shell of your ear if he were to keep his promise and whisper all the beautiful things you'd want him to do to you? Would he whimper if you tug those curls just right or would he grunt and growl if you scratched that glorious back of his? These questions kept you awake and ebbed away at your sanity for years. You glanced at the clock and rubbed your cheek, groaning slightly at the way you had let this ordinary man completely ruin your relatively stable mind. 

 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You stared with sleep laden eyes at the x-wing that was parked smack in the middle of the hangar. You scowled again at Poe’s mischief and mumbled curses under your breath as you climbed the ladder up into the cockpit. You slid into his seat and took a deep breath as Poe’s scent filled your nostrils. You smile to yourself, tracing the joystick before you with your fingers. 

You don't actually hate him, every single good memory you’ve had has him in it. You do however, enjoy the back and forth the both of you had going on for the past few months due to your sudden promotions. Secretly, you were in love with Poe, his stupid boyish swagger made your heart ache, especially when he used that god awful smile on you.

Slowly, everything was becoming more and more overwhelming, lulling you into sleep. You turned and pressed your nose into the seat, breathing in the soothing scent as your eyes fluttered close.

“Just for a few minutes…” you mumbled, and soon the cockpit of the x-wing was filled with the sounds of your snores.

 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Poe was waiting for you at the hanger, watching for any movement from his x-wing. He loved teasing you like this, smiling to himself when he sees you unhappily wadling in your sleep shirt towards his ship. He waited for you to come down, so that he could scare you. He frowned when you took too long, silences ringing in his ear when his ship didn’t start moving. Alarm bells started going off in his head and he rushed to the x-wing and quickly climbed up, only to see you sleeping there.

He stared at you for a while, leaning against his x-wing as you snored softly in his seat, nuzzing your nose into his chair. He didn’t make a mistake, kissing you that one fateful day, pretending to be drunk to maybe earn your favour for the night. He knew he couldn’t have you the second your lips pressed harder against his, igniting something that he could not explain, alongside with the urge to keep you safe. He pushed you away that night, vowing to never turn back to you until he could keep you and his people safe. 

The general sighed and flipped open a dummy switch by the control, a switch that you had never touched before, to reveal your face. He pressed his two fingers to his lips and to the picture of your smiling face, just like he always did before he took flight, followed by the softest kiss on your forehead, something totally unorthodox to him, something that he would talk himself out of if he ever gave his heart a chance to listen to his brain. Poe waited for a while for you to stir but breathed out a sigh of relief when you didn’t. 

He wanted to keep his distance, he really did. But you kept him up all night, the way you gasped into his mouth when the kiss got a little more hungry never really left his mind, rolling over and over like a broken tape recorder. He wanted to hold you in his arms and keep his promise, to keep you alive and beautiful as always. To never see you cower away in pain or suffering ever again. How could he do that when everything went radioactive around him? 

He wanted you so bad, and he was running out of ideas and ways to stay out of your lane. Poe sighed again, reaching out to move away a strand of hair that fell out of place.He leaned back and watched you a little longer until his eyes grew heavy with sleep too. 

 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You woke up in your bed, completely confused with your bearings. You had a weird dream, being in Poe’s x-wing, being carried out by him. You tried to go through the dream in order, piecing together whether it was real or not. You finally shook your head, figuring that you probably dreamt it up in your sleep-addled brain.

You sigh and decide to get up and start your day, pulling your datapad to check your schedule. There were going to be new recruits today and you had to greet them and assign them to their positions. It was the easiest of your jobs, your smile genuine as your heart gets lighter now that the galaxy was healing. You quickly got up and got ready, to show your best to the new recruits. 

You stood poised in your uniform waiting for the transport to touch down at the hangar when suddenly you felt a strong presence behind you. You didn’t need to be a master of the force to know that Poe Dameron was standing behind you, his gaze piercing the back of your head making your smile slightly. You raise your chin slightly as the door to the transport drops and a few individuals walk out. One of them leads the bunch, walking slightly faster and taller towards you. A beautiful woman, her hair cropped short and her sleeves torn up, revealing intricate tattoos. You shoot the woman with your best smile and she grins back.

“Ah, you must be the General, people talk about your greatness but never your beauty. I am Keana and this is my team.” the woman kneels in front of you and takes your hand, planting a soft kiss onto the back of it, making your face heat up at the gesture. 

You were quite literally lost for words until you felt someone’s body press against your shoulder. 

“That’s because I am the general.” Poe’s voice rang clear and authoritative, and the woman before you quickly stands up and throws Poe a sheepish smile. 

“Terribly sorry for the mistake, I assumed that this fine lady here is the general due to her uniform.” Her words made you spin around to see Poe in his flight suit, helmet tucked under his arm and you try hard not to laugh.

While Keana rounded her group, you tip your head towards Poe with a small smile on your face. 

“I think she called you ugly, baby.” you whisper and his head turns almost too sharply at your utterance of the nickname. 

Poe Dameron was far from ugly. He was indeed one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever laid your eyes on. His scruffy stubble and flawless boyish curls made him look like an effortless prince. His character and charisma only heightened his attractiveness and he had a smile and glint in his eyes that made him irresistible. Poe rolled his eyes at your statement, a smirk evidently trying not to show on his lips as he tried to hold back his next statement. 

“Come on, no snarky remark?” you say, utterly impressed by his control. 

Poe gave you a pointed look and sauntered off to his x-wing, which was suspiciously parked in the right spot. You stared a little longer at the pilot, your eyes trailing a little lower than your liking and you pout and turn on your heel to join Keana and her little group for their tour. 

You knew the man was up to something but you just could not prove what he was doing, or not doing. 

 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

By the time the sun had begun to set, you were completely bugged out. Poe teasing you at any point of day had been a daily occurrence since the both of you touched down onto the base. But today he hadn’t said a word directly to you and you were lying if you weren’t slightly worried about it. He also had been tactfully avoiding you all day and you were positive he was when you swear you saw a rush of orange in your peripheral when you finished your tour. 

Fortunately for you, you ran into the best two people that would know where Poe was.

“Finn! Rey! Where’s Dameron?” you panted, running to catch up with them.

“His room, I think. He was weirdly quiet and working on something the last time I saw him.” Finn said and Rey nodded along. 

“Room. Got it. Thanks.” you punctuated before running off to Poe’s room. 

You gathered yourself when you found Poe’s door, combing your fingers through your hair and then straightening out your blouse before keying in the passcode. You walked through the doorway as soon as the door whoshed open, only to find Poe staring blankly at his datapad on his bed. He didn’t even turn to look at you, his eyes carefully trained onto what he was reading. 

“Dameron! Everything okay?” You chirpily asked as you invited yourself to sit at his desk, turning the chair to face him. 

The silence that rang after your question was deafening. You narrowed your eyes at the man before you, trying to figure out why he was giving you the silent treatment. You pursed your lips and clicked your tongue as Poe subtly shifted, still paying you no attention at all. 

Poe hated the way you called him by his last name. He sure as hell didn’t care if he was addressed with it by any other person, but by you? A fiery rage burned in him, fuelled by the way the new recruit flirted with you and the way you had blushed and flushed even with him standing right behind you. He shouldn’t be this angry, not with you, never with you. 

“So the tour went great as usual, Keana is really nice and her team is great, I think that they would do just fine with our people.” You went on, breaking through the silence again as Poe types something into the data pad. 

Poe’s anger was slowly growing and he focused all his might into not losing his temper and doing something that he might regret. He continued to ignore you as if you weren’t sitting there with a beautiful smile on your face that was slowly melting into a frown that he equally enjoyed. He saw your hand move and realised that you were waving at him, trying to force his attention to you. 

You sighed, still not willing to admit defeat. Your brain races through the scenarios in which you could get the General’s attention when suddenly, all the lights go off, making you gasp. You scrambled off the chair and ran to the door, trying to open it but it wouldn’t budge.

“What, never had a power cut in your life, darling?” Poe’s voice dripped like venom over you from the bed, making you slowly turn around to face him.

He was finally looking at you, a glare of pure disdain etched upon his handsome face that was illuminated by the screen of his data pad, flipped your stomach at its intensity. 

Why was he so angry?

His face turns back to the data pad, resuming its previous deadpan expression. You walk over to his bed and sit at the edge, watching quietly as he works, the anger seemingly radiating out of his body and making you feel small. 

You blinked after a while, realising that this man actually had no right to be mad at you. All this time, it had been him annoying the hell out of you. Why should you feel small? You straighten your back and scooched closer, your hand near his. 

You poked him, digging your finger into his side, only for no response. Whatever he was mad about must be making him really angry, because on a normal day, Poe Dameron would be the most sensitive person on base. 

“Daaameron. Dameron, Dameron, Dameron, Dameron.” You jabbed away, but to no avail. 

Inside, Poe was enjoying this. He wanted to see how far you would go to gain his attention. Somehow he knew that you were aware of what he was doing because you suddenly stopped your jabbing, your hand dropping back to your side once again. 

You took a good look at him, wondering if he was worth the risk of losing everything. Your mind was probably leaning towards your riskier side as you eyed the way he sat, his legs and torso forming a seat that you couldn’t resist wanting to sit on. Your intrusive thoughts got the best of you as you quickly climbed into the bed and slid onto his lap. Poe’s eyes widen for a split second and his free hand grasps at your hips as he makes eye contact as he huffs out a breath. Then suddenly, his face goes stoic again. 

He turns to his data pad that was still clutched in his other hand and continues to read, as if unbothered by your presence. Your hands bunch up his shirt and you hold onto him as you grimace. You shifted a little in his lap and felt his grip on your hip tighten slightly, making you smirk. A part of you was nervous, being in such a compromising position with your general, but Poe could have thrown you off his body eons ago if he wanted to. 

Instead he sat as still as possible, only his eyes and chest slightly moving. If Poe was the one who was nervous, he clearly wasn’t showing it. You blatantly checked him out, his pretty boy curls flopping here and there, the curve of his necklace as it rested against his glorious neck, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed, the slight part of his plump lips that you oh so craved for, all zeroing you to the point of why you were there in the first place. 

You steadied yourself, sliding your hands to either side of his shoulder, feeling the muscles underneath his jacket. Even with you feeling him up, Poe didn’t budge a single inch, his hand now gently resting on the curve of your hip. You eyed Poe’s stubble longingly, your heart thudding inside your chest as you gazed at how perfect the curve of his jaw was. A few of Poe’s fingers lightly squeezed at your hip as if he were daring you to make your next move too. 

You figured “Why not.”

What could you possibly lose now, you were already straddling him.

You grabbed at his jacket and leaned in, pressing a feathery kiss to a spot between his neck and where his jaw started, and to your absolute joy, another soft gasp emitting from his lips. You let go of his jacket and let your chest lay flat against his, sliding your hands around his neck and smiling against his neck before pressing another kiss and feeling a light shudder.

“Give up Dameron.” you murmured. 

Poe’s eyes remained glued to the datapad but you knew he wasn't concentrating anymore with the way he started to breathe, slow and shallow, as if he were focusing on composing himself. You slowly run your fingers through his locks, your nails grazing the nape of his neck, gently coaxing him to relax when suddenly you feel his breath jump.

“Where’s that aggravating voice of yours now, General?” You purred into his ear and felt a growing hardness beneath you, along with your own swirling heat at the pit of your abdomen.

One of your hands make their way back to his face, gently grabbing at his jaw as you push yourself off him again, effectively grinding your hot core into his just to rile the pilot up. Poe’s eyes were half lidded now and his data pad hung loosely in his grip as his hand had drifted down onto his bed, laying limp. You pushed his chin up, forcing him to make eye contact with you.

When those swirling dark brown eyes snapped to yours, you realised how much trouble you were in, just from a single glance. 

“Poe…” you whispered, so softly that you doubted he heard you despite the lack of space between the two of you.

Poe’s free hand snaked up your back and held onto the back of your neck in an instant, pulling you towards him as your lips finally crashed together. The kiss was urgent and Poe wasted no time snaking the hand at your waist around your body to keep you pinned against him, making your mouth drop open, welcoming Poe’s tongue as he pushed himself up to kiss you harder. 

You’ve been wanting this for months and the satisfaction that rushed over you was like no other. You didn’t care about the fact that you couldn’t breathe, you just needed to feel him against you. Poe pulls away with a sharp intake of breath as you grind down hard on his growing erection. His eyes were still on yours, piercing right through your soul.

“You’re starting something that you’re gonna regret, sweetheart.” He whispered as he readjusted the way you were straddling him.

“What are you gonna do? Throw me out of the resistance?” You laughed but it died down instantly when a smirk curled itself onto his kiss-addled lips. 

Poe had kept everything he felt about you pented up for months and now he was fuelled with a passion like no other. He flipped you over and towered over you, watching as your face went flush and your eyes grew wide. 

“Oh you’ll see.” He simply said before leaning down to kiss you again, pressing his entire body against your frame as your hands flew to his hair. 

He knew you having your hands in his hair turns you on as much as it does him, but he tutted against your lips and pulled your hands down from his head anyway. 

“You're really a brat.” he says lowly.

“Poe please…” you begged him with your eyes, not wanting him to stop.

“Brats don't get to touch me.” He gets on his knees and towered over you, unbuckling his belt as you watched on, completely aroused by the way he tugs it. 

He twisted his belt and looped it around the buckle a few times before you knew what he was doing. He slipped the makeshift cuff onto your wrists and secured you to the bed, making you giggle nervously, tugging your wrists and showing you that you were going nowhere. 

“There you go, pretty girl.” he smiled cruelly, tapping your cheek with his fingers and you gasped slightly at his demeanour. 

“What should I do with you?” he asked mockingly as his hands trailed to your shirt, undoing the first few buttons. 

“I’d save the best for last,” he smiled to himself before raising his eyebrows at you and ripping the rest of your shirt. “and I’ll start with my appetiser.” 

Your breathing had quickened and you were following Poe’s every move. His fingers had moved to the waistband of your pants and he watched your eyes widen as he hooked his fingers. 

“Want me to stop?” Poe questioned, slightly amused by your silence.

“No, no, please don’t!” You whine, your hands tugging uselessly at their bonds. 

“As you wish, baby.” he gives you another cheeky smirk before pulling your pants down, along with your underwear, exposing you to the cold air of his room. He was a little further away now and you tried to make your eyes adjust to the dark so that you could see him.

That's when you felt a warm breath against your cunt. You wanted to snap your legs close but strong hands clamped you down and a casual chuckle emitted from your core. A soft kiss in your inner thigh rubbed all the feelings of anxiety away and Poe’s hand began to rub soft circles in the plush of your thigh that made you sink further into his bed. 

“Oh, Poe…” was all you could say as his breath fanned your exposed core again. 

“That’s right, angel, love hearing you beg for me.” Poe said sultry, almost to your cunt rather than to you. 

He pressed a feather light kiss onto your clit and you keened, a soft airy moan filling the room. 

“These moans are mine.” Poe said softly from between your legs.

His hands travelled slightly higher, his big palms and fingers feeling the planes of your skin. 

“This body is mine.” He said again, almost to himself. 

Something clicked inside you and you finally figured out what got you here in the first place. 

“You’re mine.” This time, the words were uttered so softly that you were pretty sure you had lost Poe to his own thoughts. 

Suddenly with your last act of defiance, you found yourself saying: 

“You jealous, pretty boy?”

That's when all hell broke loose and you knew your next few thoughts were going to be incoherent. 

Poe’s tongue lapped up your arousal that had been pooling from grinding on him and his words, making you arch your back and push your pussy into his face. His hands travelled back to your core and held you open, as he started to devour you like a man starved. 

Nothing in the galaxy could have prepared you for the way your general started eating you out. He ate your spend like he earned it, licking and slurping and moaning into your pussy as if it gave him life to so what he was doing. His beautiful nose rubbed into your clit just right and your whimpering only fuelled his fire because he latched his mouth onto your clit and pushed two fingers into you without a question.

You sweared, through your haze ridden mind, that he smirked against you as you started to writhe and gasp for air as his fingers reached the delicious spot that you yearned for. You were shaking for him within a few minutes, hands desperately trying to grab onto something but failing as your orgasm ripped through you like a hailstorm. 

Poe knew you were being too loud but didn’t have the heart or the coherent thought to stop you from screaming his name at the top of your lungs as your clit throbbed between his lips and your cunt clenched tightly around his fingers that were still trying their best to piston in and out of you. 

Poe brought you down with several gentle kitten licks and soft kisses onto your skin as his hand began to knead gently at your flesh. He heard his belt rattling again, followed by a soft whimper that tore at his heart strings, causing him to crawl up your body with soft words leaving his lips. 

“Okay, baby, you’re okay. You did so well.” he said through your gasps and gently untied you from his bed frame.

He brought your wrist to his lips and kissed them gently before rubbing them comfortingly. Your whimpers quietened down and your soft breathes made Poe smile as he brought his face close to yours. 

“Hello.” He says as you pry your eyes open. 

“Hey.” You breathe, taking in his pretty face before leaning up for a kiss. 

Poe caught your lips gracefully, his kisses softer and more calculated. You tasted yourself on him and you realised what you had just done with your general. Poe could probably sense your hesitation when your side of the kiss had a sense of unsurity. 

“Baby?” he asked as he pulled away. 

“Is this right?” You asked, searching his eyes.

“Yes, baby, yes. I want this and it feels right to me. Does it feel right to you?” He says, reassuringly rubbing at your cheek with his thumb. 

You smiled. This was your Poe. 

“Yes, Poe. It feels right.” you giggled slightly as Poe sighed in relief. 

“So you gonna fuck me now?” you raised your eyebrow and let your eyes droop, causing the now accustomed smirk to form on Poe’s face with your words. 

“Didn’t think you’d ask.” Poe answered in his usual confident tone. 

Poe got rid of his pants faster than you could ever imagine. To say that you were slightly intimidated by his size was definitely an understatement. He reached over you to his bedside drawer and pulled out a condom, slipping it on and letting his length drop between the both of you. 

You stared incredulously at his cock that was laid out on your stomach. You’d definitely feel him in your guts for days after this. You found yourself trailing a hand down to his cock, wrapping your fingers around him to test his weight. 

Poe moaned dangerously low as you started to stroke his cock, his head thrown back almost immediately. You stroked him a few more times before lining up his tip at your entrance, taking your time as you slowly let him push himself in. 

“Maker, Poe.” You cried as he slowly bottomed out, never feeling this full in your entire life.

“It's okay, baby, I’m here.” Poe’s voice was strained from the way your pussy gripped around him and the both of you knew it was only a matter of a few minutes before you both were pushed past breaking point. 

You nodded and Poe started to move slowly, your synchronised moans and groans echoing around the dark room once again. Poe leaned down and began to slowly suck at your exposed breast that had popped out of their bra in your previous tousle. You arched your back and threaded a hand up his locks, pulling him tightly against you as your other hand generously scratched up his back, making him moan hungrily against your tit. 

“Fuck baby, you feel so fucking good.” he groaned. 

His movements increased with sudden vigour, picking up the pace to match your beautiful moans. The amazing drag of his cock in your wet channel made you want to float and you feel yourself losing yourself to him. Poe’s hand ended up between the two of you and you knew he was close as his fingers started to rub gently at your already abused clit. 

“Come with me Poe, please.” You whispered and he nodded immediately.

“Now.” he breathed and you came with a choked groan as you milked him, pushing him and prolonging his release with each clench of your cunt. 

He pumped himself inside you a few more times before letting his legs give way, collapsing ungracefully on top of you. The both of you spent the next few minutes catching your breath, completely spent from your irresponsible activities.

Poe gets up first, pressing a gentle kiss onto your shoulder before pulling himself out of you with a groan. He pulls off the condom and you hear him tossing it aside and gently lowering himself next to you as you admire the mess you made of him. 

You gently run your knuckle against his cheekbone and watch his eyes flutter close. You shuffle closer and turn around, tucking yourself into his chest and pulling his arms around you, feeling incredibly clingy after that vigorous session. 

“Who knew you had an off button inside you.” Poe spoke up after a while and you swatted at his bicep, causing him to chuckle and cuddle you closer. 

You suddenly felt vulnerable in his arms, turning to face him once more. 

“Poe?” you whisper.

“Hmm?” 

“D-do you like me?” you ask, hugging your arms around your own naked body. 

Silence filled the room and you thought you were done for, that this was all for nothing when suddenly, a loud laugh emitted from Poe, causing you to jump slightly.

“You’re telling me, you slid into my lap and let me fuck you how I wanted to fuck you and you’re now asking if I like you?! Are you dumb?” he cackled through his words and you pouted. 

“I don’t like you, stupid. I love you.” Poe said in one final sentence that made you almost stop functioning. 

“You- I…” you tried to say but Poe cut you off with a kiss, a kiss so gentle almost like he was afraid to break you. 

“I love you too Poe.” You breathed the second his lips gave you the tiniest bit of space. 

“I know.” He smiled at you before giving you one last peck. “Can we go back to cuddling now and talk about everything when the power comes back?” 

“By talk you mean-”

“Do I need to spell it out, commander? Now hush.” he slyly cuts you off and you smile as his arms wrap around you once again, your heart and mind finally settling in the same place. 

Reblogs are appreciated~~~

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[campingwiththecharmings]

hellooooo!! congrats on the one year anniversary<3<3

could I request “how mad would you be if i kissed you?” with poe?

(thank you for doing this event!!!!)

All Your Fault

AN: OMG IT'S A FIC-AVERSAY REQUEST!! lol Told y'all I was still gonna answer all of these! That said, I'm betting you probably don't even remember sending this lmao but I hope you can still enjoy it all the same though. Thanks for your patience 💖

(Un-beta’d)

Rated: T Words: 1,068 Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader (written with f!reader in mind but I'm pretty sure this could be read as GN. please correct me if that's wrong) Warnings: kissing, arguing...nothing else I can think of (please let me know if I missed something) AO3

——————

Commander Poe Dameron is, quite literally, the bane of your existence.  

Sure, he’s a great pilot and, okay fine, he’s not a terrible leader but, damn it if the bastard doesn’t drive you absolutely crazy with his needlessly risky plans. You’re not sure if he has a death wish or if he’s just an adrenaline junky, but what you do know is that if the storm troopers chasing you don’t kill him, you just might. 

You run down the narrow hallway of the First Order compound you’ve infiltrated, Dameron in tow, desperately searching for an escape. You spot a door, thank the Maker when it’s unlocked, and pull Dameron inside with you by the lapels of his jacket, glaring at him when he opens his mouth to complain. 

“Shut up,” you whisper harshly, pushing him against the back of the door. 

He watches you in the dim light for a moment, lips parted, breath leaving him in pants. Your eyes drop to his mouth, lingering longer than you’d like, and you wonder briefly if they’re as soft as they look, how they’d feel against yours, how they’d taste— 

Okay fine, so you’re a little attracted to him. That didn’t mean he didn’t still infuriate the hell out of you. 

The thundering of boots crescendos outside the door, (blessedly) breaking you from your staring contest with his mouth. Still pressed against Poe, you swallow thickly, your face warm as you forcibly avert your gaze. Your eyes land on his neck, and you have to ignore the sudden urge you feel to lick the bead of sweat running slowly down the side of it. 

You’re both still as the troopers pass, as if making even the tiniest movement might alert them to your presence. Poe is still breathing a little heavy, the air puffing against your cheek just another reminder of his closeness. You try to ignore it, ignore him, ignore how good his body feels against yours, how amazing he smells. In an effort to stave off the sudden urge you have to bury your face in his neck and breathe deep, you think of literally anything else: your bunkmate’s dirty socks, General Leia screaming at you, taking a blaster bolt to the shoulder— 

The sound of the troopers fades slowly and you breathe a quiet sigh of relief, backing up as much as you can in the small space.  

“That was a close one, huh?” Poe mutters, looking at you warily, as if you might attack him at any given moment. 

Your anger at him rekindles in your chest at the comment and you can’t stop yourself from punching him in the shoulder. He grunts, glaring at you half-heartedly as he rubs the spot where you hit him. 

“No, Dameron, that was stupid. Completely and utterly stupid,” you quietly scold, pointing at him in accusation. 

He scoffs, almost rolling his eyes and it sends another flare of anger through you.  

“Oh, you don’t think so?” you counter, stepping closer to him. “You think your little stunt helped us?” 

He glares at you, leaning back against the door with an annoyed look on his face. “We got what we came for, didn’t we?” 

“Yes, and we’d be out of here and on the ship right now if you’d just followed the plan.” 

“You mean followed your plan,” he mumbles almost petulantly. 

“Is that what this is about?” you ask, chuckling humorlessly as you take another step closer. “Still sore that the General went with my plan instead of yours, flyboy?” 

His jaw tightens and he moves even closer, his voice so low it’s almost a growl. “Your plan is the reason I even had to pull that ‘stunt’ in the first place, sweetheart.” 

It’s your turn to scoff now, rage flaring in your eyes as you move so close to him his chest brushes against yours. You ignore how incredible he smells, even after all the running you’ve done, ignore how good he looks this close— 

“You are unbelievable, do you know that? Absolutely unbelievable.” 

Poe opens his mouth to retort, a mischievous look in his eyes, but you cut him off by continuing, your voice a harsh whisper. “You’re reckless, hot-headed, impulsive—” 

His finger on your lips stops you, your eyes widening in both shock and rage. 

Unfortunately, you’re silent long enough for him to ask, “How mad would you be if I kissed you right now?” 

Your brow furrowing in confusion, lips parting as much as they can with his finger still pressed against them. Instinctively, your gaze falls to his mouth, eyes dragging over his plump bottom lip as your brain reminds you of all the times you’ve fantasized about a moment just like this one. You watch as the corner of his mouth quirks slightly in a smile and know you’ve somehow given him all the permission he needs. 

He leans in, spanning the meager distance between you as he pulls his hand away, tentatively pressing his lips to yours. He’s giving you a chance to push him away, you realize, to decide you don’t want this but…You do.  

You melt into him, pressing your body against his and pushing him back against the door. He groans softly, the sound going straight to your core and you wonder what else you could do to pull sounds like that from him.  

You hope he gives you a chance to find out. 

His hands cup your cheeks, holding you in place as he presses his tongue against the seam of your lips. You part them without resistance, shivering when he licks inside. The taste of him is divine, a mix of sweetness and spice and something so inherently Poe. You could spend hours, maybe even days, like this, just kissing him, enjoying the taste of him, the feel of him. Already you can’t get enough, can feel your need for him clawing at the base of your spine as your fingers plunge into his soft, dark locks.  

You’re forced to break for air, foreheads pressed together as you both try to catch your breath. 

“This isn’t over, you know,” you pant, pulling back to shoot him what you hope is a stern look. 

He chuckles breathlessly, reaching out to trace the curve of your cheek with his knuckles, his lips quirking slightly when you unconsciously lean into the touch.  

“I’d be disappointed if it was, sweetheart.”

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

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[heatherfield]

classic lit authors on ao3 [insp]

Edgar Allan Poe’s Murder Mystery Dinner Party  [x]

[beskarandblasters]

What Happens on Coruscant, Stays on Coruscant

Din Djarin x Cassian Andor x Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Series Masterlist | Main Masterlist

Din Djarin Masterlist | Cassian Andor Masterlist

Summary: Three men stroll into a brothel on Coruscant one night looking for their own individual services. But when you’re the only worker available that night you decide you want to take on all of them at the same time.

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, Poe, Cassian and the reader do not know Din’s name, sex work, reader has an alias she uses at the brothel (Nova), foursome/group sex, blowjob, handjob (but not to completion), nipple play, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, voyeurism, no use of y/n

“No one can know about this,” Mando says. 

“I’m not gonna say shit,” Cassian responds. 

“What are you so worried about?” Poe says, leading the other two men down the dimly lit street, “That your little cult is gonna find out and shun you?”

“It’s not a cult,” Mando sighs. 

“Whatever you say,” Poe chuckles. 

“Do you know where you’re going?” Cassian asks.

“I do, actually. We’re almost there. Just gotta hang a left at this next corner,” Poe says, matter of factly. 

He turns left at the next corner, narrowly missing a giant puddle, and then stops at a neon sign reading “The Big Bang”. 

“I thought you said this was a nice place,” Cassian says, raising an eyebrow at the flickering lights of the sign and the abysmal exterior. 

“It is a nice place! Speaking from experience.”

“You would have experience,” Mando says under his breath. 

“Gonna pretend I didn’t hear that,” Poe says, walking towards the door. 

The door slides open and the three men step inside. The lobby is actually rather elegant, a stark contrast compared to the exterior and the street it was located on. Dimly lit with sleek black tiles on the floor and a tall counter at the back of the room. A slender woman with emerald robes and neatly manicured fingernails stands behind it, tapping her fingers on the counter mindlessly. Her face lights up when she sees Poe walk through the door. 

“Mr. Dameron! Welcome back. I see you’ve brought some friends.” 

She tilts her head in Mando’s direction. 

“A Mandalorian? Been a while since we’ve had one of those,” she adds with a wink. 

He’s thankful for the helmet, for everyone would be able to see how embarrassed he looks if he were without it. 

Poe rests his arms on the counter and leans forward, shooting her a boyish grin. 

“Got any openings for each of us tonight?”

She looks down on her holo-pad and her brow furrows. 

“I’m afraid only one of our girls is available for the rest of tonight.”

“You’re killin’ me, Salva,” Poe teases. 

“Let me go talk to her and see what she wants to do,” she says, turning and disappearing behind a curtain. She walks down the hallway a few feet and turns left, stopping at none other than your room. 

“Dear?” Salva asks, giving your door a light knock. 

You open the door and greet her with a smile. 

“Yes?”

“I have three clients in the lobby right now. One of them is a regular, Mr. Dameron. I’m not sure if you’ve serviced him before.”

“Can’t say I have.”

“Oh he’s the best. Very good tipper. But none of the other girls are available tonight.”

“Hmm let me take a look at them first.” 

“Of course.”

She steps aside and you follow her down the hallway, stopping at the curtain at the entrance to the lobby. You peek into the lobby and the three men don’t notice you as they talk amongst themselves. Two of the men have darker hair but one clean shaven and the other has full facial hair. But the one that sticks out the most is the Mandalorian in silver beskar, standing with his hands on his belt and rigid as a board. He seems the most nervous out of all of them. 

You put the curtain back and turn to Salva. 

“So what do you wanna do?”

“All of them at once.”

Her eyebrows raise, “Oh really?”

“Mhm. See if they’re okay with that and if they are, send them to my room,” you say, turning and walking back down the hallway. 

Salva shakes her head and chuckles to herself before stepping back out into the lobby. The three men stop their conversation in her presence and fall silent, eager to hear what she has to say.

“Well boys you’re in for a real treat tonight,” she says with a smirk on her face. 

“And that is?” Cassian asks. 

“She has requested all three of you at the same time.”

“Uh I’m not sure-” Mando starts but Poe cuts him off. 

“Fine with us!”

But before Mando could protest, Salva claps her hands together and says, “Great! They’ll be twelve hundred credits!”

Poe pulls the credits out of the pocket inside his jacket. The other two sigh and do the same. Salva collects the credits and slips them into a drawer behind the counter. 

“Right this way!” she says, pulling back the curtain for them. 

The three men follow her down the hallway. Cassian and Din look all around them at the interior whereas Poe stays focused on following Salva. She stops at your door and says, “Well, here she is, boys! You can call her Nova. Enjoy yourselves!”

And with that she walks down the hallway and returns to the lobby. Poe knocks on your door and awaits a response. 

“Come in!” you call sweetly. 

Poe opens the door slowly and steps in. Din and Cassian follow him and close the door behind them. You’re standing in front of the bed that’s in the middle of the room. The bed is adorned with silky red sheets and four posts at each corner with beams connecting across with black curtains hanging. You’re dressed in black lingerie with a matching silky robe that stops at your mid thigh. 

“Well aren’t you a sweet thing, Nova,” Poe says, stepping closer and eyeing you up and down. 

“Why thank you, Mr. Dameron,” you say, feeling your cheeks heat up. 

“You can call me Poe, sweetheart. And this here is Cassian.”

Before he could finish you step closer to the Mandalorian and ask, “And what should I call you?” batting your eyelashes a tad. You’ve never had a Mandalorian client before and he’s certainly got your attention.

“Mando’s fine,” he says stiffly.

He seems nervous. You can’t wait to get under his skin. 

“So how do you want to start?” Cassian asks. 

“You tell me. I’m all yours tonight,” you say with a smirk.

You slip off your robe and watch Cassian and Poe’s mouths fall open. The visor of Mando’s helmet trails up and down your scantily clad form. You hang the robe up on a coat rack across the room before walking back over to the bed and sitting at the edge. Poe walks over and sits besides you, pressing kisses along your neck and sliding a hand up your thigh. Cassian followed suit, placing himself on your other side and fiddling with the strap of your bra. 

“Take it off, Cassian,” Poe mutters against your skin. 

Cassian obliges reaching a hand behind you and unclasping your bra. You slip it off and toss it on the floor, letting both men palm your breasts.

“Aren’t you gonna join, Mando?” you ask sweetly. 

“Yeah c’mon, Mando,” Poe says, removing his mouth from your breast and looking over at him, “I know you can’t take the helmet off but you at least gotta take the gloves off and feel her tits.”

Poe moves to a different spot of the bed to let Mando take his place. He strokes himself at the sight of your naked top half while Din sighs and takes off his gloves, tossing them on the floor as well. He sits beside you and brings a hand to the curve of your breast, trailing his fingers to your nipple and pinching it lightly.

“Don’t be scared,” you say softly.

And with that he pinches a little harder, emitting a small gasp from you. One of your hands moves to the bulge growing in Cassian’s pants. His breath hitches at your touch as you mess with the zipper. He stands up briefly to take off his pants, letting you gain complete access to his cock. You stroke it as he curses under his breath. Din migrates his hand to your other breast, worrying your nipple into a stiff peak between his fingertips. Poe sits beside you watching you grow hornier under Din’s touch and strokes himself. Eventually Din’s hand moves down your midsection and to your groin, pulling at the fabric and grazing the entrance of your cunt. 

“Wow, look at you go, Mando,” you tease just as he slips a finger into your already wet cunt, pulling a sharp gasp from you. You watch the visor of his helmet move from your chest to your cunt and he picks up the pace, curling his finger upwards against your walls. He slips another finger in and your walls expand around the thickness of his digits. In no time, he pulls your first orgasm from you, your cunt clenching around his fingers as you ride out your high. After your orgasm is finished washing over you, you turn to look at Poe and say, “Enough for me. Let me pleasure you.”

The men at your side move as you lay back onto the bed. Poe stands up at the edge of the bed, removing his clothes and bringing his cock right next to your face.

“You gonna suck my cock for me, Nova?” Poe asks, gazing down at your topless form.

“Of course, baby,” you say, opening your mouth for him.

He brings his cock by your mouth and you take as much of his hard length as you can. Your hand fits around the base as you lick up and down his shaft, tongue swirling at the tip, causing him to throw his head back in pleasure and curse. 

Cassian slips off your lacy underwear and spreads your legs, marveling at your dripping cunt. 

“He got you nice and wet for me,” Cassian says, his voice dropping a few octaves at his arousal. 

He pulls off his shirt over his head and spreads your thighs apart, aching to be buried between them already. He gathers your wetness on his hand and slicks his cock before entering you slowly, closing his eyes at the warm and inviting feeling. He buries his cock inside you to the hilt and curses under his breath. His hands grip your hips as he thrusts in and out of you, expanding your walls even more with each motion. 

Din stands on the other side of the bed, watching you suck Poe’s cock and getting fucked by Cassian, your back arched and nipples perked up. His hand finds his cock and he’s stroking himself at the sight of you being pleasured but also pleasuring. 

Your hands move to Poe’s balls as you continue to suck him, feeling them tighten up in your hand. With one last swirl of your tongue around the tip, followed by your mouth enveloping his length again, he’s coming. His warm mouth fills the back of your mouth and you swallow all of it, continuing to suck as he comes down from his orgasm. His hand grips your hair and he pulls your head closer into him, bringing the tip of cock to your throat. Tears spring in your eyes and just when you think you can’t take it anymore he pulls out. 

“Good girl,” he praises. 

But before you can respond you moan in pleasure as Cassian fucks you relentlessly, hands gripping your hips for dear life as he pulls you into him. Your back arches in pleasure and you close your eyes, seeing stars in the back of your mind as the euphoria builds up. Each slam of his hips brings your orgasm closer and closer. You open your eyes and get a look at him, his long hair swaying with each thrust and his chest glistening with a layer of sweat. And damn he looks good as he’s railing you. He brings his thumb to your clit and you’re already coming around his cock, fluttering and convulsing in rhythmic waves. He fucks you through your release, prolonging it even more before pulling out. You reach between your legs and stroke his cock, pulling his own orgasm from him. He paints your stomach in thick ropes of cum and sighs, leaning back on his heels on the bed. You catch your breath from the intense orgasm as well and look over at Mando. 

“What about you Mando?” you ask sweetly, “Let me take care of you.”

Cassian moves to the side of the bed, leaning against the bedpost as you flip onto your hands and knees, arching your back and sticking up your ass for him. He walks to the edge of the bed and hooks onto your hips, pulling you closer to him. You gasp but before you have the time to make a snide comment at his sudden confidence his hard length pushes into you. And for someone as quiet as Mando he fucks you rough. The cool beskar of his thigh armor collides with your skin with each of his thrust. You hear him curse under his breath in what you can assume is Mando’a while he continues to drive his cock deeper and deeper into you. The room fills with the most obscene sounds between your moans and the sound of skin slapping against the beskar. His grip on your hips tighten, surely tight enough to leave a mark but you’re too blissed out to care. You open your eyes for a moment to see Poe and Cassian stroking themselves at the sight of you getting dicked down by Mando. With one last thrust he pulls your final orgasm from you leaving your thighs shaking, barely able to keep you up. He pulls out and cums on your ass and you collapse onto the bed, completely exhausted from the evening’s activities. You hear the other men getting dressed so you flip over and sit upright. Mando’s replacing his gloves and the other two men are sitting on the bed. 

“Thanks for a good time, Nova,” Poe says, “I’ll definitely be back for you.”

“Oh yeah? Bring your friends next time, too,” you say glancing over at Mando and Cassian. 

“Sounds like a plan, sweetheart. Have a good nest of your night,” Poe says. And with that he rises from the bed and walks to the door. Cassian grabs your hand and presses a soft kiss to your knuckles. 

“Goodbye, gorgeous. See you next time,” he says, softly before following Poe. 

And as for Mando he gives you an awkward wave of his hand wordlessly before leaving with the other men. As soon as the door closes you collapse back onto the bed, completely exhausted.

The men walk back into the lobby and stop at Salva’s desk. “Well, did you enjoy yourselves?” she asks cheekily. 

They let out a collective “yes” and she chuckles.

“Good. Would anyone like to leave a tip?”

Each of them pulls out various amounts of credits from their pockets and hands them to Salva. 

“Thanks, boys. Have a good night!” she says, waving goodbye as they leave.

“What did I say, guys? I knew you were gonna love it,” Poe says smugly as they step out onto the street.

“Yeah that was something alright,” Mando says, “But no one can-”

“I get it. No one can know. What happens on Coruscant stays on Coruscant,” Poe says, clapping Din on the shoulder.

Din sighs and the three men walk back to the docking yard, already thinking about when their next trip to The Big Bang will be.

End note: That was my first time writing any kind of group sex so lmk what you think!!! 🖤

Part two: Is That a Blaster in Your Pocket or Are You Happy to See Me?

If you'd like to be notified when I post a new fic follow @beskarandblastersfics and turn on post notifications!

[phantasmagoria-in-neverland]

Hi again! May I also please request some headcanons of what being married to various Star Wars characters is like?

Various Star Wars Characters Headcanons: What being Married to them is like.

Hi, of course you can! I'm sorry it took me so long to finish this, but hopefully it will be worth the wait. I'm going to get started on your other request as soon as I am able, and also, I didn't add Cal to this one given how lengthy it already is, but feel free to ask me to. Oh, one last thing, if anyone wants to request Wedding Day or Proposals Headcanons you absolutely can, I would have added them in this one, but as I've said, it's way too long. Enjoy!

Obi-Wan Kenobi:

-I am absolutely convinced Obi-Wan would make the perfect husband, if his way of life didn't get as in the way as it does. Still, if he has decided to marry you, he surely has gotten over any conflicting feelings about breaking the code, and has made you and your marriage his absolute top priority. Obi-Wan is nothing if not a deeply committed man, and once he is pouring all of it on you, you can be certain he will fight to make your relationship work against each and every odd. 

-Obi-Wan is, most of all, a caring and attentive partner. He always makes the most of the time you spend together, and never makes you feel clingy or annoying if the separation ever gets to you. He never forgets your anniversaries or what and where your "firsts" together have been, and his gifts, while not necessarily expensive, are always super thought out.

-He is an amazing communicator with basically endless patience, fights with him are practically nonexistent, and even when they do happen he goes about it super rationally and never ever raises his voice. He would bend himself backwards for your happiness and safety and he always pays attention to make sure you are 100% comfortable with him, and with coming to him about any issues or feelings you might have.

-Obi-Wan proposed to you with the intention of letting you know just how committed he is to the family you are building together and how much he trusts you. So really, jealousy is definitely not an issue in your marriage.  Still, nobody knows about it, not even Ani, even though he and a few other close friends definitely suspect something. Especially because Obi-Wan absolutely refuses to not have his wedding ring hidden somewhere on his person. (There have been... a few close calls because of it, you're both lucky he can charm his way out of almost anything.)

-He is very domestic, or at least does his best to be, with his duties in the way and all. He always tries to cook at least one meal for you, and he absolutely adores coming home to you and something you've prepared for him (no matter how good you are at it. Honestly if you're still learning, he is your number one supporter and encourager.) He never complains about chores and does his best to make them enjoyable for the both of you, if you have something you'd rather not do, whatever it is he is more than happy to take over.

-Obi-Wan is great with children, and if you decided to have some after the fall of the Order, he would be an amazing dad. Just keep in mind that he might be quite a bit more apprehensive/protective after you are forced into hiding, he blames himself for a lot of things and it might take a while for him to be ready to expand your family. But don't worry, once you both find some peace again he will be ecstatic about it, after all, there's nothing in the Universe worth more than you guys.

Anakin Skywalker:

-Anakin wouldn't be a bad husband by any means, but he's got some work to do on himself you might have to help him through. Still, I assure you, he would do his absolute damned best to be great for you, and he would love you more than it should be humanly possible. Nothing could ever even come close to meaning as much as you do to him, he would literally let the whole galaxy burn if it made you happy. Which might, depending on you, be one of those tendencies you should pull him away from. Or don't, no judgment here.

Anyway, what matters the most is: Anakin is devoted.

-Ani is very empathetic, especially when it comes to you. Sometimes you feel like he might understand your moods even better than you do, which means, as soon as he feels like you might be even a little bit sad or stressed, Ani is dropping everything to come cheer you up. Which no doubt will get him in trouble, but it's not like he cares. He can be a bit clingy/overprotective of you, honestly. Again, if you want him to be a bit more responsible then you're gonna have to help him work on it. Won't ever forget your "firsts" or anniversaries, but gifts are not really his forte, so except a few handmade pieces every now and again he would much rather celebrate by going somewhere and creating new memories together.

-While he has no trouble at all understanding you, Ani has quite a few problems with communicating himself and his thoughts. Half the time he tells you every little detail of what's going through his mind, which could easily lead to him overthinking if you don't help him calm down. And every other time he can't even get his mouth open to tell you how his day is going, which usually happens when he is particularly upset about something, luckily it's easy to tell it's happening and you won't have too much trouble coaxing it out of him (He really really wants to tell you everything, he just doesn't know where to even begin.) So, even though fights can happen quite often, mostly because Ani tends to be a bit emotional about things he cares for, they are easily resolved. He refuses to go to sleep without you/knowing you mad at him, so really, they don't last more than a few hours.

-Anakin proposed to you shortly after you confessed your feelings for each other, seeing no point in waiting since he knows with his entire heart that you are his other half.  Jealousy might be a little bit of an issue, mostly because nobody knows that you two belong to each other and the secrecy drives him up the walls, and as I've said, Ani can be a bit hot-blooded about what he loves. But honestly, it's an easy fix, just don't spend more time with someone else than you do him, and let him hold you close if he needs it.

-Speaking of the secrecy, Ani didn't even think twice about breaking the code for you, what makes you think he wouldn't try to scream how much he loves you from every rooftop in Coruscant? Honestly, unless you don't mind all the endless problems that you and especially him would have to face with the Jedi Order, you're gonna have to be really convincing to make him see reason.  And even then, he's not going to act like you're not the most important person in his life, or accept that he can't kiss you whenever you feel like it, or be ashamed of displaying his wedding ring. The best he's going to do is probably move the both of you behind a column or something... as if that wouldn't be suspicious in a room full of force sensitives. So really, your relationship is only a secret because the people around you would rather pretend it is. Mostly because they recognise that you are good for him, Obi-Wan most of all.

-Anakin might not be the best at taking care of the house, or have much patience for chores, but he's not gonna leave all the burden to you. He's going to help until he completely runs out of patience and then he's going to distract both of you and make it a "tomorrow's" problem. I feel like he'd be great with kids if you decided to have them, especially if he's gotten away from the Order. And also, having them might really help him mature/become a little more responsible, he really wants to do right by you. 

Luke Skywalker:

-Luke is a sweetheart whose first priority is always his family, and that really shines through in your marriage. I mean, have you seen him with his father? There's nothing you could do that would make Luke give up on you, ever. He thinks the world of you no matter what, and he never blames you whenever you can't be the best version of yourself. Saying he's an understanding partner would be putting it very lightly.

-Luke treats you as if you were his shining light in the darkness, his saving grace, the beacon of hope in his life. He always wants you to feel appreciated and valued, and he does his absolute best to let you know that through his actions and words, but you can see it the most when any type of celebration comes up. He has a list of all the things you casually mention during conversations that you might want or need, and he gifts them to you any time he has even just a slight excuse to.

-Luke is also a great communicator, and he always keeps his calm during conflicts. He does his absolute best to put himself in your shoes if you disagree on something, and even when he can't he never makes you feel like your opinion is "wrong". Even though he might seem a bit plaintive to those who don't know him well, Luke only brings up even really small issues to avoid either of you stewing on it needlessly. It's much easier in the long run to just get things off your chest, and reach an understanding. So in the end, while disagreements surely happen, they extremely rarely evolve into fights.

-Luke proposed to you out of the simple and pure desire to be able to call you his family. There's nothing that brings him more joy than catching a glimpse of either his or your own ring shining on your fingers. It's like the physical proof that he is yours as you are his, that he has a home he belongs to. Leia and Han love you to bits, the happiness you bring to the family and most importantly to Luke, is the best thing they could've asked for. Han would say he knew you two would get together from the very start, but honestly, it was Leia who just felt it. Either way, the chemistry you two shared would have been hard to miss, which is why Luke didn't have much of a choice in telling them about your relationship. (It's difficult to keep feelings secret when your twin sister is force sensitive.)

-Luke isn't a jealous man by nature, but really, the sheer trust he has in you and what you two have is more than enough for him to never be bothered by those who flirt with you. And honestly, he understands them, how could they not want to, he's just unbelievably glad that out of everyone, you chose him.

-Luke is amazing at taking care of the house, (the perks of growing up on a farm) he never leaves messes behind, he knows how to cook, and any chore will be carried out efficiently and without complaints. His way of life is simple and peaceful, like a true Jedi, and depending on you, you'll either be the most homely and tranquil couple the galaxy has ever seen, or you will bring fun and excitement into his life and you'll balance each other out. Either way, he is amazing at going with the flow.

-For as much as your family means to him, Luke might still be a little hesitant about having kids. It's not as if he doesn't want them, stars no, but he has quite a few worries. Most of all, he fears turning out like his own father, and how fragmented and unsteady the Galaxy is, even after the victory of the rebellion. Honestly he just wants them to be happy and have an easier life than he did, which he's deadly afraid of not being able to provide. It might take a while to reassure him, and you'd have to be patient, but he's going to be the happiest man in the whole Universe as soon as he's holding your child in his arms, so it's gonna be worth it.

Han Solo:

-It would take a while for Han to realize that hey, this is serious, that he truly really might want to spend the rest of his life by your side. There would be a time when that realization would frighten him, make him pull away from anything he isn't ready to lose: you. Commitment is not something that comes easy to him, and it would be the roughest patch in your entire relationship, it would take lots of reassurance and persistence on your side, but once that is over, oh boy is he committed. When Han finally accepts the true extent of his feelings for you, that he now can't for the life of him let you slip through his fingers, be prepared, cause he's gonna make this work, you're stuck with him now. (And Chewie)

A relationship with him is fun, he knows how to have a good time and he wants any time you two spend together to become a good memory, even under less than ideal circumstances. He's going to make the most inappropriate jokes at the most inappropriate times, he's going to tease you like his life depends on it, and he's going to make you laugh like nobody else ever could. It only takes putting up with his enormous but quite fragile ego, really.

He has a tendency to avoid taking anything too seriously, which depending on you might get a little annoying at times, but he is also really dependable when it comes down to it. Sure, he is going to complain to hell and back, but he would die for you in a heartbeat, anything less than that is just more material to jokingly throw back at you when he wants to get out of doing something. It never works.

-Celebrations and anniversaries are Han’s favourite days, does he only remember about a few of them the literal day of? absolutely, but damn him if he doesn't make them special. Han is all about living in the moment, he wants every second dedicated to celebrating you or your relationship to be memorable, and he can be cheesy when it comes to it, just never say that out loud. You guys' song is playing, even tho he insists you don't have one? He is holding your hand or dancing with you. What do you mean he's being romantic, he just had to show off his moves. You have a favourite food and you suddenly find it in the kitchen? Don't look at him like that, he didn't do it for you, he was just craving it and was nice enough to get you some, even tho there's only one plate and you are pretty sure you can still spot the residues of a failed cooking attempt.

He might not get you a gift every time, cause that's not really his forte, and depending on the time you might be a little short on money, but there are a few really significant ones every now and again, like the dress or suit you’ve been saving up for, or the necklace he bought you when you'd been away from each other for a few days and stars did he miss you.

-Han is… not great at communicating in a way that doesn't contain an excessive amount of snark. It's never insulting, and he makes sure to stay clear of anything that might actually hurt you, but this man grew up with only fighting spirit and sarcasm on his side, and he still has a hard time remembering that he doesn't have to defend himself from you, that showing you his emotions and caring doesn’t mean he’s pathetic. The longer you two are together the better he becomes at taking a step away to calm down before speaking, sure, your relationship is still made of almost constant banter, but now it's playful and lighthearted, and Han truly makes an effort to be serious when you want him to be. Hotheaded and stubborn as he is, he would never hurt you on purpose.

-Han proposed right after he got over the mental breakdown that came with realizing the extent of his feelings for you, now that he's aware? It's ride or die. Really, there have been very very few people that he has ever cared for more than himself, he would trade his happiness for yours, he couldn't love you more than he already does, couldn't love nobody else the same way.

Still, this man's jealousy is through the roof. It's definitely not because he doesn't trust you, but he can't help but fear the day you might meet someone worthier of your affection then him. For as cocky as he tends to be, Han knows he is not always the easiest to get along with, so just let him stand close to you when you're out, and wrap his arm around you when somebody is “clearly” trying to flirt with you, and he will be back to his confident self in no time. It would be even easier to deal with if you were comfortable with letting him tell everyone and their families that you're married. No but seriously, there is no chance your relationship was ever a secret, Han has no filter when it comes to bragging and oh boy is he proud of you. And lets not forget the wedding ring, being a pilot he mostly wears it on a chain around his neck, but that thing is on display. He even develops the endearing habit of holding onto it when he is doing something just a little too risky, you're his lucky charm, and if you were to show off your ring just as much as he does? Well, you might never hear the end of it, but you can tell he gets sentimental about it.

-Han never thought he'd be one for domesticity, and in a lot of ways he still isn't. He can't cook to save his life, he despises chores so much that you can pretty much just thank Chewie if the Falcon is a somewhat livable space at all, and some of his clothes have holes in them he barely tried to mend. But you have made a huge difference, and even tho he won't even try and help you when it comes to stoves, he'll take care of the coffee and he'll set the table and you don’t even have to ask. He won't help you and Chewbacca with the cleaning and tidying but he'll make sure to stop leaving things around and pick up after himself to give you an easier time (not a day goes by that Chewie doesn't thank the stars for your existence). And he still fusses about his clothes, but he makes you something to drink and watches you sew with so much awe you feel like you're hanging the stars in the sky.

So yes, he still sucks at it, but he loves what you two have more than anything in the world, and he tries, he really does, cause you make him want to be the best version of himself. And when it comes to kids, well… parenthood scares him half to death, but he knows it will be amazing if he has you to learn with, and no matter what obstacles your family will have to face, he promises you, he'll make it work.

The Mandalorian/Din Djarin:

-Din is a family man through and through. He would be dedicated to your relationship from the very beginning, and even more so now that you are married. If he has gotten into a serious partnership with you, especially if it happened after he found the child, it means that you are it for him, you are the love of his life, the parent of his kids, his clan, the only one he will ever have by his side. And it's useless to say that he is loyal to a fault, he will have your back against anything and anyone, come hell or high water, and he will protect you even on the smallest of things as if his life depended on it. Anything that is important to you automatically becomes top priority for him as well, and you will never want for anything as long as there is breath in his lungs. It can be a bit much at times, especially because he pretty much puts you on a pedestal, but it's not as if he wants you to be perfect, he knows your faults and embraces them, he just can't help but be adoring of every single part of you.

With him, you will never even have a chance to look down on yourself, you and Grogu are the best thing that could have ever happened to him, and he will remind you of that until his voice gets hoarse if he thinks you don't believe it.

-Din is not big on celebrations, but he always does something to make you feel appreciated, and he remembers all of them. Even if he doesn't bring you anywhere fancy, he knows quite a few beautiful and secluded spots, where the two of you can simply bask in each other's presence and be at peace. A simple but thought out gift he remembers you like, your favourite song in the background, any type of food you like the most. He's observant and he knows you like the back of his hand, so rest assured, the entire day will be tailored to fit your mood and preferences. And if you do something for him? Stars, you just might kill him. No, his voice isn't shaking, he's fine, don't worry he just needs a minute.

-Din never raises his voice at you, and he has the patience of a saint, but he isn't great at expressing his own thoughts and feelings. He listens to everything you have to say, and because of how much he respects you and values your opinion, he always takes the points you make into consideration with great attention. Din hates fighting with you and he isn't afraid to admit when he's in the wrong, so usually arguments end fairly easily, but he also isn't afraid to stand his ground, which is where most of your troubles reside. If he has listened to your perspective and still thinks he's right, he can come across as a little… patronizing. He would never believe himself better than you of course, quite the opposite, but he can at times sound curt or dismissive, even when he doesn't mean to be. Just tell him that, and he will be more than willing to try and express himself better, you might have to help him with it tho.

-Din proposed to you almost out of the blue, you probably wouldn't expect it, and he might not even have a ring on him, but his speech would be so heartfelt and honest that you might have a hard time holding back tears (and honestly, once you say yes he would too, you just wouldn't be able to see it). I imagine it would happen something like this: he came home from a job that had dragged on for a little too long, ready to just collapse somewhere on the floor of the Crest, and forgetting in his tiredness that he is not alone anymore. He would be almost taken aback once he opens the door, finding the lights still on and you, with the child held tightly in your arms, asleep on his chair in the cockpit, clearly having tried to stay up to wait for him. It would be a sudden but gentle realization, that now he has everything he has ever wanted and never thought he could have, that you are his family, and he has to officialise that, he has to properly make you a clan of three. And oh is he itching to rip off his helmet and finally let you see him. Altho he would rather do things properly, because you deserve nothing less, he’d just have to ask you right in that moment.

Any jealousy Din might have would evaporate once you get married, but please, do flaunt your ring, he will melt.

-There's not much space for domesticity in the life of a bounty hunter, nor is it a Mandalorian specialty, but against all odds, Din craves it more than anything. You are his home, and he tries his damn hardest to be the same for you, and he's quite the natural at it, although the last time he's experienced it himself has been way back when he still had his parents, so he is a little rusty.

Chores are swiftly dealt with, he'd much rather do it all himself than make you do it, and he rarely accepts help unless he's basically dead on his feet and things can't wait, because he's stubborn like that. But if you were to cook for him and the kid? And he could watch you do it? And maybe you have some music playing in the background? And stars forbid there's a smile on your face? Din is convinced he has died at some point and this is heaven, and he doesn't deserve it at all but you're clearly an angel and for some reason you care for him and he really hopes reincarnation isn't a thing because he wants to stay here with you for the rest of eternity. It's dramatic and he will never say it out loud, not like that at least, but he's sentimental at heart.

On the topic of kids, do I even have to say it? Din is more than willing to expand your family, especially if you were to somewhat settle down, and as we've all seen, he's a great dad.

Poe Dameron:

-Poe would be an amazing husband. Affectionate to a fault, Poe is a very tactile person, which translates to him being quite physical in his demonstrations of love.  If he can, he will always stand or sit close to you, feeling more at ease while sharing your space, and if you aren't uncomfortable, there would definitely be some hand-holding, or you could even sit in his lap honestly, he'd be happy about it.

He'd give you his arm when you are tired so that you can rest your weight on him, wrap an arm around your shoulders or waist when you're walking together, lift you up and down from high places, especially when it comes to you climbing into a ship, especially if it is his ship (Yes, he knows very well that you are more than capable of doing things like this on your own, doesn't mean he can't dedicate his life to making it easier tho); He would offer you his hand to hold onto if you're walking on unsteady ground so that you won't risk falling, he would surprise hug you so much you'd come to expect it anytime (but really, the surprise part was just an excuse so it's not like he's gonna stop), would hoist you over his shoulders if you were ever too short to see or reach something, and give you piggy back rides at absolutely any time.

-Poe is also a very passionate and very charming man. You could be married for a hundred years, and he would still treat you as if he was trying to win you over, every chance he has to court you, he's gonna take it. Which is exactly why he thrives when it comes to celebrations and anniversaries. Flowers find you anytime he has a chance to go pick/buy any, which is far less often than he'd like given his position in the Resistance, but travelling so much means that he has a good excuse, every planet warrants at least one new bouquet to gift you.

He will either leave them somewhere for you to find, like on your bedside table when you wake up, or give them to you personally, while trying to wait until things have calmed down and not immediately after he is done embracing you when he returns to base. Both options are accompanied by a note he has written while away, whether the note is going to be extremely lovesick or downright flirty depends heavily on his mood at the time, and if your cheeks are going to be flaming hot by the end of them... well, that depends on your willpower.

Speaking of which, you might start to associate the flowers to a promise of safe return, and picking up on it, Poe will gift you a beautiful, specially commissioned pendant that has both of your favourite flowers on it, that can immortalise without withering his promise to be by your side until his dying day.

Also anything interesting he might see while travelling will be brought back to you, from clothes to special types of local chocolate to anything that correlates to a hobby of yours. Or, truth be told, anything that reminds him of you, and that is a lot of things, but he might keep some of those for himself, just to have a piece of you to hold close to his heart when he can't hold you.

-Poe hates arguing; sure, playful teasing or loving banter are his bread and butter, but actual fights make him more sad than angry.  Of course, disagreements happen, and Poe is more than willing to listen to your point of view, before swiftly changing the subject and letting it be water under the bridge.  Honestly, maybe influenced by his parents relationship, Poe believes in a somewhat fairytale-like kind of love, and most of the time he does manage to make it a reality, other times... well, sometimes fights just can't be avoided, especially when it comes to someone as impulsive as he is. He always finds a way to make it up to you tho, so that's good.

-Poe proposed to you after a dangerous mission that almost ended terribly wrong, with either you or him getting out of it by the skin of your teeth. He'd have been keeping the ring he had intended to propose with for the past couple of months, right in the breast pocket of his pilot suit, where his heart is. He'd had a grand proposal in mind, one that would be romantic and memorable, but never found the right time.

That all went out the ship the moment he got slapped right in the face with the reminder of just how possible it is for either one of you to not come back for the night, to die, and just like that, leave behind your relationship and your love, and all that you have been together. He didn't even let his feet touch the ground after jumping out of his X-wing before he went down on his knees. He of all people should know, that no time is better then right now, with his heart in his hands.

Now, it might come as a little bit of a surprise, but Poe isn't a jealous man, and not only because he is almost always draped over you in one way or another, but because he is incredibly sure that the two of you are soulmates. On the same note, there's absolutely no reason for you to worry either, while he might have been a bit of a flirt before, it all stopped the moment he took interest in you. Also, everybody knows that you belong to each other, and not just because the entire Resistance was invited to your wedding, but because Poe's absolute favourite topic of conversation is you. And if you're wondering, BB-8 was both the ring bearer and the flower girl at your wedding.

Speaking of rings, being a pilot Poe can't wear his on his finger, not that he would have anyway, when it looks so perfect on the same necklace that holds his mother's ring, right in front of it, with your name carved on the inside on display.

-Poe, as I've said before, is pretty much a hopeless romantic, so domestic life is definitely right up his alley. He knows how to cook, and he does so rather well, and with as happy as he is to prepare you homemade candlelit dinners, he attunes himself to your taste so much he could very well be considered your personal five stars chef. With Poe’s positive attitude towards pretty much anything, chores are definitely not something to be dreaded in your house. Stopping to dance and sing at some point or another is basically a requirement, and pillow fights are far more common than they should be for high ranking members of the Resistance, but it's so fun and lighthearted that time will run by just as fast as if you were out on a date.

Poe would love nothing more than to start a family with you, but you're both still young, and he is in no rush. Ideally, the two of you won't have to wait too long until your victory will once again bring stability to the Galaxy, and you could settle down on a beautiful planet (Yavin 4 sounds great to him) where you'd have all the stability needed to raise your children.

[downbadf0rficppl]

always been you

Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Summary: Miscommunications happen. Less so when you work in communications, but they happen.

Word Count: 4.8K

Warnings: Slight blood warning, a smidge of angst, and a handful of smut :)

Repost

Home meant different things to different people. To some, it meant green rolling hills and the sound of wild animals running through the forests, some hunting, some hiding. To some, it looked more like the cold cityscapes of somewhere like Corellia or Daiyu - where day could be night and night could be day because the city never slept. More like the planet never slept.

To you, home meant a dark room in the back of the compound on D'Qar, where you sat for hours on end. It meant the whirring of plane engines and the whooshing of blast doors. It meant ration meals and celebrating when there were enough jogan fruits in season to make jogan fruitcake. It meant the constant fear that someone you loved may not come home.

You had grown up on Dantooine, maintaining the old rebel base there with your father - an ex-pilot with the rebellion. He'd taught you all about the world of space flight and you'd decided early on that maybe you preferred the ground. Oh, the irony.

At 19, you moved to Coruscant - under no threat from enemies, the base on Dantooine was not needed. You moved away to find a job that could give a life of comfort. Maybe you just needed some excitement in your life that didn't involve exploding wires or stealing your dad's glasses.

When General Organa started recruiting for the resistance, you were one of the first ones there. You distanced yourself from your father's legacy, not wanting the pressure of being someone's someone to be held over your head.

You settled into the anonymity of comms comfortably, making decent friends with your co-workers.

Days came and went working for the resistance. Soon enough, you'd been for a year, and then 2, and then it had been so long since you'd left Dantooine that you could barely remember what your life was like there.

The cantina was empty when you walked in. To your knowledge, black and blue squadrons were out on a field mission, but no one else was in sight. You walked around the base, looking for any signs of life. Dear Maker, had they all evacuated and forgotten about you.

You walked over to the med wing, hoping to see someone. And you saw, well, everyone. Apparently, half of those on base had come down with food poisoning. Wonderful.

You were called in to speak with General Organa, who assigned you double and triple shifts, considering you were the only one of 6 comms officers who hadn't come down with food poisoning. Wonderful.

You had spent all day, without rest, in comms, checking data logs for gold squadron, assisting in decoding transmission, and helping base mechanics with routine repairs. Essentially a normal day in the office, but six-fold the responsibilities. You went to bed, with your head swimming with responsibilities for the next day - hopefully, someone would be able to help you.

You woke up to the sound of your alarm blaring loudly. You groggily headed to the cantina for a cup of Caf before heading back to comms.

You picked some undecoded transmissions, before starting on some reports for General Organa. You barely had enough time to stop for a meal, grabbing the first thing you could see before heading back to comms.

Black and Blue squadron were currently MIA. They had radioed in earlier in the morning saying they were ok without radio connection while there was a shortage of comms officers. Still, it didn't mean you weren't worried about them.

"Black Leader to Base, come in."

You scrambled over to your headset and plugged it into the system, "Alpha 4 to Black Leader, you're a go for Base. What seems to be the problem?"

"We're running low on fuel, any republic supporters in the outer rim?" Poe's voice came through as you tried to lock on to his location.

"Where you are, the chances are slim, Black Leader." You sighed, as his location pops up on the screen. He was so far in the Outer Rim, where so many remained Empire supporters. Even with many ports on neighbouring planets, there were few ways that they could make it out of them safely.

You had an idea. "Black Leader, can you make a single jump."

"Just about."

"I'll send the coordinates, get ready to jump."

While Black and Blue Squadron jumped, you connected another line.

"Hi, dad."

"Hi, sweetheart." Your father's tired voice rang through the headset, "What can I do for you?"

"I'm sorry to bother you, dad-"

"It's ok, sweetheart. What do you need?"

"I have 2 squadrons that need fuel. Any chance you could help?"

"Of course, sweetheart. In fact, I've just seen them enter the atmosphere."

"Thanks, dad. Love you."

"I love you too."

Your dad cut the line to go and help the pilots. You swallowed the lump in your throat. You always felt guilty asking your father for help. He never quite knew how to say no.

You stayed up well into the early hours of the morning, signing off paperwork and compiling mission reports for Captain Dameron and Captain Wexley to sign off on.

In fact, you had worked so late that you heard Black and Blue Squadron's land the next morning. You heard them raucously walk through the halls to the cantina. You sighed. A small break wouldn't do any harm, right?

Wrong. As soon as you got up, a beeping from your headset rang through the room. General Holdo needed some data to do with her mission, so you were back to sifting through mission reports to send her what she needed.

By the time, you had signed off with her, Jak (one of your fellow comms officers) strolled into comms.

He ruffled your hair affectionately, "You're a legend, four."

You had known Jak since your days on Coruscant. You had shared an apartment when you were new to the city and he really showed you the ropes. You probably wouldn't be as trusted by the resistance as you were, had it not been for Jak.

"How are you feeling?" You asked, eyes still trained on the screen.

"I'm fine." He settled down next to you, grabbing a headset, "You, on the other hand, have seen better days. Maker, have you even looked at yourself in the mirror!"

You punched him in the arm, "My name's not Captain I-cannot-survive-without-my-mirrors Dameron." He feigned an injury, falling onto the floor and hollering in pain. The delirium of sleep deprivation was getting you, as you doubled over in fits of giggles, tears streaming down your face.

In fact, you were laughing so hard, you didn't even hear Captain Dameron walk in.

"What's so funny?" He said, walking in and clapping Jak on the back. The two of you looked at each other, and burst into more fits of giggles. "You know what, I'm just not going to ask." Jak handed him the stack of papers that you had left for him to sign off.

Dameron walked out with the sheets, and you stood up to stretch your back. "You should get some food in you," Jak nods towards the Cantina, "I can hold the fort down until you get back."

The cantina is practically empty when you walk in, and you grab a sandwich before heading back to comms. What greets you is a relieving sight. Two of the other comms officers have returned to comms.

"You look rough," Drex said, nursing a healing tonic from med bay. Clearly, they were still suffering the after-effects of the food poisoning.

"So, I've been told," you elbowed Jak in the ribs as he laughed heartily. You sat down and returned to the paperwork you had left behind. A connection came in, which Jak responded to immediately.

After a beat, he beckoned you over, handing you the headset, "It's your favourite. Captain Dameron."

You let out a huff, before putting the headset on. You sat down.

"Alpha 4 for Black Leader, you're a go."

"Well, hello, my new favourite comms officer. How are you on this fine morning?" He said, smugness colouring his tone as he prepared to take off.

"I hope you aren't trying to flirt with me, Poe?" You smirked through your question.

"Oh, I am. I most definitely am." Poe laughed.

"How unfortunate for you." Poe laughed again.

You led him through his routine surveillance trip, making funny quips throughout. Poe responds almost exclusively through chortles and guffaws.

"How come I've never actually spoken to you on base?"

"I don't know, maybe because you've always got one of those pretty girls on your arm?"

"Oh, you're real pretty, Alpha 4, just gotta give me a chance, hun." Poe thought you were pretty.

You laugh again, "In your dreams, Captain."

There was a beat of silence, before Poe piped up, "someone special at home?" You swallow guiltily.

Ever since you first met Poe, you had been head over heels in love with him. Sure he was good-looking, and his reputation in the bedroom preceded him, but beyond that, he was charming, funny, and he cared. About everyone. Not just his superiors, or his friends, but even stupid kids who had no idea what they were doing when they landed on base.

You thought of his face, his beautifully warm brown eyes, his stupidly floppy hair, "Yeah, someone real special. I'm just hoping he'll give me a chance back on base."

"He'd be stupid not to."

"You're just saying that."

"I mean it, 4, he'd have to be blind to not see what a catch you are." You can tell by Poe's tone that he is being genuine.

"Thanks, Poe, you're clear to return to base. See on the other side."

You hear Poe land as you head back to your room. He calls your name as he is walking.

"Hey, 4, wait up!" You wait patiently as he, and BB8, catch up to you. "About this guy."

"Poe, let it go."

"I'm serious, 4. I can help you get that date."

"No, I mean it, Poe. Let it go. You can't help me here." You stare straight into his eyes. Big mistake. You get lost easily, wanting to let the warmth cocoon you into a false safety until the rest of eternity.

You shake yourself back to reality, walking away from him and leaving him confused and annoyed.

Days pass, and you find that Poe has pushed himself further and further away from you. You were still his chosen comms officer, but he avoided you on the base. You felt bad. He'd practically confessed that he thought you were pretty and you'd turned him away, letting him believe that there was someone you were pining after. Even though that person was Poe.

You had tried to talk to Poe before he went on a mission alone to Coruscant, but he walked away, feigning that he was busy. He even deflected your questions in the air, and turned his transmission signal off when he got to Coruscant. You were fuming.

How dare he put himself in danger with no chance of backup?

Realistically, your anger wasn't anger at all. You were worried for Poe. Even if he wasn't your Poe.

You vowed to have that conversation with him when he returned.

Poe couldn't stop thinking about you. He hadn't since he first spoke to you about 6 months ago. Before that, he just thought you were pretty. But once he realised that, not only were you beautiful, but you were also smart and had a sarcasm to match his, well he was a goner.

When you told him, that there was someone else, he saw red. He wanted to put his first through the fucker's face, but goddammit, he would do anything to help you.

So he offered to help you get that date. It was a mostly harmless offer, and he didn't really expect you to take him up on it, but he put it out there nonetheless.

What he didn't expect was for you to raise your voice and storm away. He was shocked.

He figured he overstepped some undrawn boundary, and he felt guilty. So he tried to give you space, give you distance. He'd give you anything if you even mentioned it once. But, jealousy took over his previously well-intentioned thoughts. If you wanted someone else, fine, you could have them. But Poe couldn't watch you get them.

He didn't want to take the mission on Coruscant. He wasn't a spy, he was a flamboyant and show-off-y pilot. But he didn't want to see you in another man's arms. So he took it.

That was what landed him in his current predicament: tied to a chair in the basement of one Zek Shadej - an ex-smuggler who turned to an arms dealership for the higher paycheck.

Zek slaps Poe. He demands, once again, to know what a pilot for the Resistance is doing at a gala for the low lives of the galaxy. He didn't word it that way but the sentiment still stands. Poe says nothing, just spitting a mixture of blood and saliva at Zek's shoes. Zek curses and heads to the door: "I'm done with him. Dispose of him."

The guards left in the room stalk toward him, blasters unsheathed and ready to fire. Poe uses the pin you gave him to cut through the ropes binding his hands.

It was his fifth birthday on base, he reckoned. With different systems, and different lengths of orbits, it was hard to know for sure, but he knew the rest of Black Squadron were planning his celebration for today. So he remained in bed, lying on top of the sheets, head propped up on his arm.

A gentle knock rang through his room. He'd told the person to come in, and you did. Armed with a giddy smile and a small wrapped package. Poe had no idea where you had found wrapping paper, or why you would buy him a present but here you were.

"Jess said it was your birthday today. Thought I'd give you something neat." You said, approaching him nervously. He swung his legs and sat upright, pulling your arm so you were standing right in front of him. He looks up at you through his eyelashes, taking in your kind face. You and Poe were hardly friends, but how he wished you could be more.

"So, what did you get for me, pretty girl?" Poe rests his callous hardened hands on your hips - he liked the feel of your soft skin under his palms. He also liked how sensitive you were to his touch - your flushed expression and lust-filled gaze confirmed it.

You handed him the small parcel, "I hope you like it."

He takes it from you, pulling you to sit beside him. He opens it with careful hands to find a small pin. A Yavin Parakeet. Poe's favourite bird.

"They used to symbolise freedom. Like you do." You whispered the last part.

Poe had never wanted to kiss you so much.

Poe threw the chair he had been sitting on at one of the guards. He landed on the floor with a loud groan, his blaster skidding to a halt at Poe's feet. It was Poe's lucky day.

He shot the other 2 guards, dashing out of the basement onto the catering floor. He escaped through a back door, a few of the staff giving his bloody face and dishevelled appearance a double look. He sprinted through the streets to a docking station a few miles east. Zek sent a few men after him, but Poe was smart, and he knew Coruscant well. He dodged the men, and fired up his X-wing. He had Leia's intel safely stored in his shirt pocket.

His X-wing was severely damaged - his landing gear compromised and the transmission antenna bent at an awkward angle. He took off precariously - he knew he'd have to stop somewhere to fix the ship and refuel. He remembered the old outpost on Dantooine. Your dad's outpost.

He lightspeed jumped into the sector, breaking through the atmosphere mere seconds later. The landing was rough and he saw your father running towards the ship, blaster raised.

"Come out, slowly and unarmed. Do anything I don't like the look of, and I shoot."

"It's me. It's Poe. I came by a couple of days ago. I promise I mean no harm."

The old man lowered his blaster. He tucked his shoulder under Poe and helped him inside, "Let's get you looked at, son." Despite the pain, Poe smiled. Son. He liked that.

Your father patched Poe up, offering him a nice meal and a shower. While Poe cleaned up, your father called you.

"Hey, dad, what can I do for you?" You respond, your brain still focussed on the transmissions you were decoding.

"I wouldn't call if it wasn't necessary-"

"I know, Dad. What do you need?"

"I got one of your guys," your ears pricked up, "and his ship is damaged. I need to know how to fix it. Think you can help?"

"Yeah, of course. I don't remember sending anyone your way though, think you can tell me who it is?"

Your dad grunts as he climbs up the ladder, radio tucked under his chin, "yeah, it's the pretty boy from a few days ago. The captain. Can't remember his name."

"It's Dameron. Who're you talking to?" Poe comes out wiping his hands on a towel. Despite this man being your father, years in the resistance had warned him against trusting strangers.

"My daughter. She's telling me how to fix your ship."

"4? I wouldn't trust her anywhere near my ship."

"I heard that you know," you laughed. You brought up the specs for the X-wing, "I'll send you a copy of the spec - that's probably more useful than anything I have to say."

Your dad laughed and you sent him the specs.

"Good luck, boys," you ended the transmission.

The rest of the day was spent fixing the ship. Poe and your dad made good small talk - they were both pilots. They had a lot in common. They also both loved you. They had that in common too.

"Go clean up, Poe. I'll make us dinner." Your father said, standing up and heading toward the kitchen. Poe smiled. He liked this life.

Poe was back on base by nightfall the next day. You waited for him as he got checked up on in med, and then you walked with him to his room. The silence was deafening.

You followed him into his room, watched his every movement. He milled about, putting on clean clothes, washing his hands, and combing through his hair. His whole body was still tensed up from the mission - you wanted to stop him, hug him, do something. But you couldn't. He didn't want you near him. He was angry at you, and rightfully so.

"Your dad's nice." You looked up at him. Poe still had his back turned, but his shoulder had relaxed. You wanted to run your fingers down his back. "Peculiar, but nice."

You smiled softly, "He's lonely. Not that fun living on an abandoned base in the middle of nowhere."

Poe sat down on his chair, and you walked towards him. You placed your hands on his shoulder, gently soothing the knots out of his muscles. He leaned his head back, a low moan of satisfaction left his throat. The sound went straight through your body, eliciting shivers.

"Talk to me. Tell me what went wrong," you whispered in his ear, not wanting to break the calmness that swept through the room.

Poe shook his head, bringing you in front of him. He leaned his head against your stomach, hands coming to rest at your hips. You tangled your fingers in his hair, and he grunted in appreciation. You shivered again.

He chuckled, "you like that?" Your face blushed a bright red. Poe laughed again, before leaning to kiss your stomach. He kissed up through the valley in between your breasts, and up your neck. He stayed there for a minute, nipping and suckling at your neck, before making his way to your face.

He was fully standing now, his hands moved to your face, and he gently dotted kisses everywhere. Your cheeks. Your eyes, which had fallen shut at his ministrations. Your forehead, then your chin. He kissed the sides of your lips, and you let out a soft moan, begging for more.

"Greedy, are we?" He asked, his voice much lower than before. You opened your eyes to see a smug grin painted on his face. You didn't care.

You grabbed his face and brought his lips to yours. It seems he got the memo because as soon as his lips touched yours, he took over. His tongue slipped into your mouth and stroked yours gently.

He tapped your thigh gently, a signal to jump, and he carried you over to his bed, depositing you on the edge gently, dislodging his lips from yours. He knelt down in front of the bed, pulling your closer to him by your legs.

"Tell me to stop." He looked up at you, his pupils blown wide, as he took your dishevelled appearance in. Like a predator looks at his prey.

"Please don't."

He pulled your boots and cargo pants off, kissing up your legs. The arousal pooled between your legs, and you moan.

"So fucking wet, and I haven't even touched you yet." You whine pathetically, trying to pull Poe closer to where you want him. He just laughs.

"Bet the other guy couldn't do this to you. That's why you need me, ain't that right?" You whine again, "Need me to take care of you, baby girl, ain't that right?"

"Please, Poe."

"Please what, baby girl? What do you need?" Poe whispers, cheekiness glinting in his eyes.

"Please, fuck me, Poe." He smiled.

"As you wish."

He pulled your underwear down your legs and stared enamoured between your trembling things, "Such a pretty fucking pussy."

You threw your head back as he dove face-first into your folds. He kissed your mound lightly, before rubbing soothing circles around your clit. You buck up, the pleasure unlike any you've ever known, and Poe presses a hand onto your abdomen, locking you in place.

"Don't deprive me of my meal, honey," He whispers into your pussy.

He continues his assault, testing the waters of what you did and didn't like. You liked when he went fast, when he went slow, you got impatient. Maybe it was time to teach you some patience. But the low whines and moans were too much for Poe to bear. Soon your thighs were clamped around his head as you let out a loud moan, and you came undone under his touch. He lapped up every last bit of your release as if he'd been left in the deserts of Jakku without any water for years. And the moans. Oh Maker, his moans. You thought it impossible for a man to enjoy himself that much. But from the way he gripped your thighs, and pulled his body in further, you could tell he never wanted to pull away.

You laid limp on the bed as Poe stood up, and peeled his clothes off his body. You stared shamelessly. It wasn't the first time you'd seen Poe shirtless, but you'd barred yourself from staring then. Now it was allowed.

He smiled at your shameless ogling, and grabbed your hand, pulling you to stand up, pressed against him. You could feel his still-clothed cock, pushing into your abdomen, and you could feel it throbbing at the contact. You sunk down onto your knees, hands fiddling with his zipper.

He pulled you away and shook his head. "Not now."

He pushes you back onto the bed and crawls over you, his lips reconnecting to yours. He had unzipped his pants and kicked off his boots, leaving a pile on the floor.

"Tell me if it hurts." Poe kisses under your jaw before pushing inside.

Holy Maker, he's big.

His cock stretches you out deliciously. He pushes into you until he's settled within you and waits for you to adjust. The initial pain fades into pleasure and soon you're begging for him to move.

"You sound so pretty when you beg, baby. Bet you wouldn't beg for anyone else." Nevertheless, he moves.

He starts slow, getting used to feeling you around him. You want more.

"Please, Poe. Faster. Please, please, please." You beg him, screams ripping through your throat.

He picks up the pace, relentless now. Fast and hard. The room filled with the sounds of skin slapping skin, mixed together with both your moans. You feel the pressure building up and your moans get louder. Poe chased his own release as you got closer and closer to the edge.

"Poe, I'm gonna... gonna come. Please, Poe..." Poe slowed down a fraction, pulling you further from the edge. You whined pathetically.

"Tell me you're mine. Only mine." You smiled through your lust-induced haze.

"Only yours, Poe. Always yours." He picked up the pace again, and the coil begins to tighten. Poe's moans push you over the edge, and you cum hard. So hard that your whole body feels electrified, your toes curling in pleasure. Poe fucks you through your high, turning your entire body to jelly. He pulls out and shoots his ropes over your body.

You smile. You lift a finger up to your chest and lick Poe's cum off your chest, moaning at the taste. The filth of the act clearly affected Poe, as his eyes closed in pleasure. He moaned lowly, grabbing your hands and pressing kisses to them. You closed your eyes, falling back onto the bed.

Poe disappeared into the refresher, grabbing a clean towel and dampening it, before returning to clean you up. You looked confused. No one had ever done that for you before. He wiped your chest and between your thighs, before carrying you to the bathroom. You washed your face and brushed your teeth with one of the spare toothbrushes in Poe's refresher, before heading back out.

Poe was gone.

You were confused, given that he had changed his sheets and left you a spare t-shirt and pair of boxers to change into. You sat down on the edge of his bed, stretching your legs, a pleasant ache settling between them. Where the hell could he have gone?

A few seconds late, someone knocked, "Are you decent?" Poe.

"Yeah, come in." You stood up, shuffling your feet. Poe walked in, shirt almost completely undone, carrying 2 bottles of water from the cantina. Your heart almost burst.

He opened one of the bottles handing it to you, before leading you back to bed. You took a few sips, the coldness soothing your throat that was raw from screaming.

He laid back on his bed and beckoned your closer to him. You curled into his arms and reached up to fiddle with his hair. You both sat in silent reverie - taking in each other's company.

"Will I see you again?" Poe broke the silence timidly, running a knuckle over your cheek.

"You see me every day, Poe," You tease him gently, "You see me in the corridors, and in the cantina, and sometimes even after you get back from a mission." Poe slapped your ass, causing you to burst into laughter. He pulls you closer to his body.

"I mean it. Is this just a one-time thing? Given your - um - crush on the other guy?" You stay silent, "Is he a pilot? Is that why you're not telling me?" You nod your head, trying to hide your smile. You felt bad for not telling him, but it was funny.

"He's a pilot. But that's not why I'm not telling you." Poe frowns, creases appearing between his eyebrows.

"Is he a superior officer? Does he live on base?"

You decide to keep teasing him, "Yeah, he's a Captain." You look into Poe's eyes. "He's definitely my favourite person on base." Poe's frown turns into a scowl.

"He has the most beautiful brown eyes and the most amazing hair that I always want to run my fingers through," You tangle your hair in his, pulling it just the way he likes. "He's cocky, and he's so sexy. And he knows that he's sexy too." Poe tries pushing you away, rolling from his side to his back, but you just cling to him tighter. You place a kiss on his jaw and then on his ear.

"Why are you here, then? In my bed? In my clothes?" He says, jealousy and annoyance evident in his voice. You feel bad.

"You wanna know his name?"

"Not really. Then I'd know who I wanna punch, but I still wouldn't be able to do it."

"I don't really think it's possible to punch yourself." Poe turns to face you, the jealousy in his eyes fading into hope.

"What?" You just smile. "You love me?"

"I didn't lie, Poe. I'm yours. Always yours." He kisses you, hard, not giving you any space to breathe.

"You're not just saying that," He breathes, pulling away just enough to speak. You reconnect your lips to his, and he pulls you on top of him, your thighs around his torso. You look deep into his eyes, his pupils so dilated as if he couldn't get enough of you.

"It's always been you."

fin.

buy me a coffee

[multi-fandom31]

Oscar Isaac was right!!!

Oscar is so cute❤

[eyelessfaces]

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑: 𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐅𝐎𝐔𝐑

𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐊𝐓𝐎𝐁𝐄𝐑 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓

poe dameron x reader

𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐤: sex pollen

warnings: tiniest bit of angst, handjob (m receiving), unrealistic amounts of... fluids, no refractory period

word count: 1k

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

(birthday fic wtf)

Poe wasn’t doing well. He wouldn’t want to admit it not to worry you, but you knew him too well so you were aware of that, which meant you therefore knew he wasn’t doing well.

He had been pacing around your shared quarters for the past ten minutes, scratching at his neck and wiping away his sweaty forehead.

“Poe sweetheart, you need to go get checked up” you tried to convince him once more, voice filled with concern.

“No– I’m okay." he shook his head frowning, brushing off your request as if it was delirious. He mumbled something about the temperature being too hot as he hastily took off his jacket, mindlessly throwing it on the floor.

"It's not even–" you started, looking at the red stripes starting to form at his neck from him scratching it too much. "You're feverish, or you're having an allergic reaction to something you came across while on mission" 

He should have known that the blaster shot blowing up a bag of dark orange powder right next to him, causing him to sneeze and rub his eyes at the moment would have other effects later, but he didn’t expect them to be so… peculiar.

"Come on, sit down at least, you're stressing me out" you sighed as you reached to grab him by the arm before he abruptly stopped you.

"No– Don't touch me." you frowned in incomprehension as you backed away, unused to Poe refusing your touch. “It’s just– I don’t wanna hurt you.” he continued, sitting down on the couch. You frowned, confused, and sat down next to him.

He looked up at you, his eyes weak, sweat pearling over his brow. He looked in so much distress, but you didn’t know how to help him; you couldn’t convince him to do something he didn’t want to, no one could. 

Your fingers brushed back his damp curls, and you felt his body tense at the faintest touch. The vein at his forehead was bulging out, and you could feel the hotness radiating off of his skin.

“What can I do to help you?” you offered in a weak sigh, not sure of what you could do. You wanted to help him, he looked like he could faint at any moment.

“Nothing. Get away maybe. I don’t want to hurt you” 

You chuckled. “Why? Why would you hurt me?” you asked in disbelief. He was getting nonsensical, maybe this was another symptom. 

He pinched his lips, looking down at his lap. Your eyes followed where his gaze was directed and you immediately understood. A tent was formed in his pants, the bulge so prominent you wondered how you hadn't noticed it before.

"Oh."

"It aches, and your presence makes it so much worse, your touch makes it so much worse" he hissed almost angrily, squirming in place. "You have to go away until I find a solution" he declared, ready to stand up before you stopped him, your hand resting over his thigh.

"I can't leave you like that" you shook your head. "I can help you" you continued. "Maybe if you… It'll go away. Maybe you just need relief, and I can help you with that." 

He bit down on his lip at the thought of your offer, and the feeling of your hand over his lap was enough for him to accept it.

His hand gripped tight onto the couch armrest as you unbuckled his belt and worked on freeing him, the faint feeling of friction simultaneously being too much and not enough.

He was painfully hard, his cock red and swollen, leaking and twitching in place. 

"Fuck, Poe" you gasped, you couldn’t believe what you were seeing. He looked like he was about to burst at any moment.

"Please" he wailed. "Please do something"

He bit down on his bottom lip as your fingers brushed his throbbing length, the tip of them gently, tentatively running along a vein. You knew you shouldn’t tease him, you knew he was in pain, but seeing him so desperate, aching with need felt exciting.

A small exhale left his mouth when your fingers caged around his cock, taking him in your hand, starting with slow, gentle strokes that made him bite down hard on his lip to try to contain himself.

You looked up at him, trying to read on his face to see if this was giving him any relief, but you couldn’t even tell; his breath was ragged, he was already making wrecked sounds as he was squirming in place, trying to chase after your touch, spurring you on going faster.

He was far more sensitive than usual; small whimpers were escaping from his mouth as he writhed in his seat, bucking into your hand as you stroked him in a firm rhythm; you didn't have much to do, he was practically fucking your hand at this point, hips moving upwards as he panted loudly, so desperate for friction.

"Fuck– shit– yeah" he breathed out as you twisted your hand around the tip of his cock, thumb rubbing over his weeping slit.

His fists clenched, his knuckles turning white as his nails dug into the palm of his hand.

His eyes rolled to the back of his head and his mouth gaped as he suddenly came with a broken sound, his cum shooting in the air in firm spurts as his cock throbbed and twitched. 

He had more than usual; he groaned as his cum kept spilling over your hand and over his lap, his head thrown back over the back of the couch.

He didn’t last long, but this wasn’t the point – he needed relief, and the faster the better. You wiped your free hand over his sweaty forehead, brushing back the hair falling over his face.

"Better?" you asked as he panted loudly, his heart beating fast as he came down from his high.

"A little." he huffed between ragged breaths, looking back down at you.

"A little?" you repeated, shocked that he wasn’t sated despite how hard he had just came.

You looked down at his lap, and noticed his cock was already swelling again, slowly growing back to life.

"Need more." he chuckled between sharp breaths as he pushed you down onto the couch, hovering over you.

"Need so much more."

—

as always please reblog and tell me your thoughts it helps a lot!!

star wars taglist: @apollo-enthusiast @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @dameronshandholder @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious @stvnnie

+ @flightlessangelwings

[sinisterexaggerator]

Got it Bad

Poe Dameron x Fem! Reader

Summary: You are a medic aboard the Anodyne, a Resistance frigate frequented by one Poe Dameron. He often comes to see you when he is injured; you assume this time to be no different, as he is reckless in the line of duty and could do with your healing touch. But you have underestimated him; he has to show you something. Will you entertain his request?

Warnings: Explicit / NSFW 18+ for: Heavy petting, cunnilingus, PiV sex, kissing, blood and injury, premature ejaculation, dirty talk, medical scenarios, and mention of death in wartime. Contains: fluff, a liiittle bit of angst, smut, humor, and “love” confessions.  

Notes: This is my first time writing for Poe Dameron! Dedicated to @allsystemsblue, because she was the one who told me to! Poe is all over the place in this, but always about consent!

Word Count: 8.1K

Divider and banner by me.

“How many times has it been, then?”

Doe brown eyes blinked once, twice, spidery lashes that may as well have been made of gossamer, or silk, gracing tawny skin with a kiss. Poe Dameron stared blankly at you as you dressed his wound, this being one of the numerous occasions that you were tasked to do so.

You were one of the many medics aboard this particular Resistance vessel that patrolled the Outer Rim. Stationed not too far from D’Qar and the principal base of General Organa herself, this reckless, daredevil pilot had a tendency to bless you with his presence after what you would call less than routine missions.

Not desiring to arrive to his superior a bloodied mess more than necessary, Poe frequently docked his T-70 star fighter in your frigate’s docking bay for safekeeping, allowing his droid companion free rein of the halls.  Moments earlier, BB-8 had been offered a recharging station, Dameron left in your expert care as his ball droid rolled off and out of sight, following closely behind a member of the maintenance crew. The conversation between the two had been amusing to witness.

“Don’t worry, buddy! I’ll be right here waiting for you. Maybe. Possibly.”

BB had issued a series of complaints and reprimands in Droidspeak, causing the pilot to wince as if being scolded by his mother, or the general herself.

“All right, fine! I’ll come and find you then. No sweat.”

Satisfied, the orange and white orb had swirled on its axis, wheeling fluidly across a duralloy floor, leaving its master alone to suffer the consequences of his actions. Though Dameron did not seem to care, remaining somewhat unbothered by the gash across his forehead from where a piece of shrapnel had sent Black One into a spin. Before he could regain control, Poe’s head had crashed into the yolk of his X-wing, leaving a two-inch rent in his flesh.

No, he had not been wearing his helmet.

Despite his foolhardy nature, you thought it curious. With such a varied assortment of medical personnel living and working on the Anodyne - a modified Nebulon-C escort employed by the Resistance for the express purpose of being a mobile hospital - it was a wonder of yours why Poe always chose to search you out.

Not considering yourself to be anything in the way of special, at least the skills you possessed were adequate to put him on the mend. But, somehow, this visit seemed different, even if sticky crimson coated his handsome features.

You had come to notice that Poe was spending less time talking and more time staring, a thing you were not accustomed to as his gaze was unrelenting, the commander scrutinizing every facet of your appearance. He had seemed to limit himself to the surface area of your face, wandering, probing, exploring the curve of your nose, the outline of your lips, and finally the warmth in your eyes.

“Y-you didn’t answer me,” you commented, applying bacta to the injured man with a dabble of your fingers, your voice having lost its normal confidence as Dameron uttered a single, muted question.

“Huh?” he asked, as if only now realizing he was indeed a person, and that he could be perceived by others. He sat up marginally in his chair, those unyielding, heavy-lidded eyes almost vacantly looking through you, or so you thought.

You were beginning to wonder if this had anything to do with the fact that he might be mildly concussed. You were also becoming self-conscious, trying to keep the conversation on track despite Poe being so close to you with his blood staining your hands. “How many times has it been that you have come to see me these last few months? Don’t you know how to stay out of trouble?”

“No,” he answered without thought, leaning forward once more in the chair serving him for his examination. That sole syllable had been expressed in a dilatory fashion, soft and airy, only inches from your mouth.

You let out a breathy exhalation, surprised by this turn of events, yet nothing had happened.  The cocky pilot dared to bite down on a rather pouty bottom lip; he watched you intently, gauging your reaction as he dallied there, finally adding more in the way of a response. “That’s why I’m here. Again.”

“Yes, right, obviously,” you managed, trying to restore some semblance of equanimity over yourself after having been caught off guard.

“Obviously,” he echoed, the word a whisper in the all too quiet room. However, this would not last as more wounded boarded the ship at intervals, soon the medical bay filled with a bustle of activity.

Unwanted activity.

Poe glanced around, assessing the situation. You had just finished bandaging him up when his hand reached out for yours, gently clasping your wrist.

“Doc, I’ve gotta show you something. I’ve got it-- bad.”

“It?” you inquired incredulously, your own glance taking an appraisal of the room. His voice had lowered again, as if this topic of conversation was not meant to be overheard. His expression appeared serious, deep-set brows knitting together in a visual show of his concern. You mimicked him, a rather human way to show empathy in this case, though not entirely sure what for.

“It,” he confirmed, gently pulling you forward toward himself, as if you weren’t already close enough. Your breathing picked up as you posed a follow-up question, a simple one, and straight to the point.

“What?”

He did that thing again, the staring, as if you were a sheet of transparisteel and he was looking beyond it to the other side. You scanned his face, those ruggedly attractive bits of him that you had tended to time and time again.

“Um—” he paused, as if not knowing what to say, like his words had failed him, which was not out of the realm of possibility as you could confirm this uncommon pilot flew by the seat of his pants. You canted your head, expecting some sort of answer, your gaze trailing to Dameron’s fingers latched gingerly around your forearm.

You took note of their thickness, their length, his nails surprisingly trim and immaculate for being a fighter pilot, though you doubted he spent that much time on solid earth when he craved the sky; realspace; to soar among the stars. Catching yourself quickly, it had not gone unnoticed, Poe matching your tilt of the head with one of his own as he peered up at you with those unwavering, expressive eyes.

“Rash … Inya Prime … Think it might be serious,” he informed you, causing you to retract and sit up straight. You tugged yourself loose from his grasp and frowned, turning to wipe your hands off the best you could on an otherwise clean towel, wishing he would have told you this before you had gone and touched him.

“Well, let’s see it then,” you offered, swiveling back around to face him. The pilot pursed his lips before biting down again, his foot beginning to tap against the floor; the motion was almost sultry, like this whole charade was planned.

For some reason, you doubted that assumption.

“It’s … I can’t show you here,” he confessed, lowering his head as he turned it to the left and right, giving the medical bay another sweep with his eyes; it was as if he was suddenly your conspirator, Poe carrying and guarding an important secret.

“Where then?” You compelled an eyebrow to stay level, it wanting to raise of its own volition. It was your turn to stare, Poe taking up each of your hands again, regardless of the fact you had just tried to halfheartedly clean them. He placed them gently atop his knees; he held you there, and you dare not move. Then, the man bore directly into you with his hardened gaze, nudging his head toward the exit door.

“Exam room, down the hall. It’s, um – it’s private.”

You gave him a reproving look. “Why were you on Inya Prime in the first place?” you asked, your fingers twitching beneath his. You were caught between wanting to relax and to allow this to happen, or to jerk yourself away for fear of someone getting the wrong idea.

“Reconnaissance,” he replied without missing a beat.  You supposed that seemed logical enough, though Inya Prime was a small, boring, terrestrial planet of little to no interest to most.

That explained the civilian clothing, whereas most of the time Poe arrived to you in his bright orange flight suit, standing out like a ray of sunshine among the dark, depressing backdrop of space.

“And how did you get this rash?” you inquired curiously, wondering why it was he could not show you here instead, or just how bad it might be.

“You don’t wanna know,” he stated with a sense of finality, eyes searching yours, as if he was trying to penetrate your thoughts with a Jedi mind trick. You held his gaze a moment longer than expected before quickly standing to your feet; you felt the need to break physical contact, Dameron’s hands warm, rough, and—

“Fine, let’s hurry. There are others who need tending to.” It was the truth, yet you could feel your heartbeat betraying you by thumping loudly in your chest; you were sure that Poe could hear it.

“Right, let’s,” he said, standing. He walked a pace ahead of you then turned back around. He lingered, making sure you were going to follow him before he started out the door.

The man seemed nervous, slicking back a ringlet of dark hair that refused to stay in place. He ambulated somewhat awkwardly around the corner, then waited for you to unlock the examination room with a clearing of his throat. It then occurred to him he was standing in your way; he opened his mouth to say something but thought better of it, moving to one side as you gave him an inquisitive side-eye, using your badge to unlock the facilities.

He nodded, just a small movement of his head, eyes darting forward as if thinking hard on something before he entered the small space. It was fitted with a table for patients to lie on - equipped with a step stool and stirrups - a cabinet filled with various medical supplies, a curtain for dressing and undressing, a scale for taking a patient’s weight, and blood pressure detection equipment, among other things. It had all those items necessary and then some, though depending on your diagnosis, you imagined you might need to prescribe him an antifungal ointment of some kind.

“All right, we’re here,” you offered with a gesture. “Now, show me this rash.”

Poe gave a jittery laugh, answering you with a nervy “heh” as he ran his forefinger along the clean sheets of the table laid out before him as if he was checking it for dust.

“Yeah, about that,” he finally spoke up, walking full circle around the bed-like object before he arrived behind you.

“You see, doc—” he began; you craned your neck, looking over your shoulder at him, wanting to know why you now felt trapped, barred to the only way out as he had sandwiched himself between you and the door. “It’s right here,” he said, placing his open palm against his chest and giving it a tap.

This time you were the one to clear your throat, tossing back your hair as you straightened up to appear more professional, or perhaps dignified, forcing yourself to not think about how you were about to come into contact with, or at least see, Poe Dameron’s bare breast.

All things considered, he was an attractive man. You had thought that the moment you laid eyes on him; the time he had come to you battered and beaten with a black eye and a sprained ankle – he had taken a tumble down the side of a rather steep hill on some backwater, jungle-planet and only made it back to his X-wing thanks to members of Black Squadron. His foot was so badly swollen by the time he reached you, it was a miracle he could walk  - or hobble – at all.

A thought occurred to you. “I should wash my hands before we begin,” you declared, moving toward the small sink stationed with a cleaning solution that was meant for disinfection as much as it was for washing away dirt and grim.

Poe looked taken aback momentarily, words caught in his throat as he gave another nod, this one more exaggerated. “Yeah, right, OK,” he shot back, as if for some reason this had been a surprise to him.

You began your task, one hand over the other as you lathered yourself, peeking back at him. “Why don’t you take off your shirt?” you suggested, not able to help the way saying that made you feel, like this was anything more than a clinical procedure.

You could hear the rustle of fabric as Poe began to undo the buttons on his dress shirt, getting the feeling that he was watching you, studying you, bent slightly over the basin in which you were cleansing yourself of his blood. It swirled around the drainage, leading to a reserve tank that purified and recycled what little water was aboard this frigate; you knew that every drop was precious.

Finishing quickly, you refaced him, Dameron’s broad, naked chest staring you straight in the face, though he had not bothered to remove his button up all the way; its two panels were parted and pushed off to opposing sides.

Firm pectorals were spattered with a thin sheen of dark curls, matching the scruff of a beard that had just recently begun to form on his perfectly sculpted cheeks, running its course down to a chiseled jawline. Beneath wisps of black was smooth, golden skin - as if kissed by a main sequence star that orbited some planetary paradise - the happiest of trails leading down and beyond the waistline of his trousers.

You watched, entranced, the rise and fall of his stomach with every breath he took, in and out, slow, and almost deliberately so. You swallowed to remedy the dry sensation in your mouth with what saliva you had available, wondering if your face appeared as red as you felt it must be.

“Right, OK. Rash,” you announced out loud, purposely making an effort to look up and back into his eyes.

Again, he put his hand up, over his heart. “Here,” he repeated, “Right here. You see—”

Poe stepped forward, and you stepped back, each move he made a calculated risk, but one worth taking. “— my … heart,” he said, voice lowering an octave, then promptly continuing, “it… burns, itches, when I can’t … see you,” he emphasized. “And. You. You’re the cure, you’re the—”

He walked another pace forward, looming above you as you found yourself pressing back against the wall of the exam room. “—the only one who can make it better,” he breathily muttered, so close now you could smell the scent of the shampoo he used; it was reminiscent of citrus, but not overpowering.

“W-what—?” You felt you couldn’t believe your ears, your neck lifting back and up as you analyzed his intense facial expression. “Poe, I—”

“Shhh,” he sibilated with a press of his index to your lips. Then, he changed the subject, however momentary. “I lied to you, by the way. There is no rash, I—”

“—Yes, I’ve figured that out,” you interrupted, though your words came out weak, quavering.

“Sometimes, I pretend to be sick or hurt just to come see you. That headache last week?” He gave a short, sharp laugh. “More like … heartache,” he finished, encapsulating your chin between two fingers as his lips met yours.

Your body froze; you were immobile, unable to breathe, unable to speak, and unable to comprehend exactly what was going on. Granted, you may have imagined this moment once or twice – every guy, or girl aboard this vessel you assumed had done so at one point or another. There was more than one reason Dameron was referred to so aptly as “Flyboy,” though you tried not to let that tarnish the present moment.

The only thing you could articulate was a soft moan of acceptance, melting despite yourself against the durasteel partition behind you. Ruddy fingers traveled upward, this time tangling themselves in your hair, palm cupping the back of your head as he gently drew you into a deeper kiss.

“Poe,” you gasped against him, your own hand rising to lightly push against his rock-hard pecs; it was a mistake on your part, this simple act of touching his unclothed chest the catalyst from which your loins stirred. “What—”

“—It,” he murmured, bringing the conversation back around from when he had coaxed you to this place. “—the thing I’ve got it bad for. It’s you,” he conceded, Dameron’s tongue slithering past full lips to gently prod at yours that stood partially agape, ready to accept another kiss.

You easily allowed him entry, that warm, wet muscle dancing in a figure eight, the pattern slow and rhythmic as he lapped at your suddenly hungry mouth. But you would not let lust overtake you, you were a woman of scruples, principles, and a practitioner of medicine; there was a time and place for this sort of thing and now was not it.

“Dameron,” you began again, this time managing to put just enough space between you so that you might think straight, Poe’s eyes immediately overtaking yours with a primal, excitable energy that penetrated you to the depths of your soul. He was so eager, you thought, so attentive, the man hanging, waiting, willing, to hear anything you might have to say.

“I believe you’re concussed, I think it’s best that—”

“I’m fine. Better than fine. Everything’s perfect,” he interjected, pressing his mouth against yours once more.

“—Why?” you blurted out, the question having clawed its way out of your chest. It was common knowledge that the man before you got around, not able to imagine that this meant anything more than an attempt at a quick hook-up.

“Because. I can’t. Stop. Thinking. About you. You.” He spoke your name, a tickle in your ear that sent a tingle of excitement prickling down your spine, leaving goose pimples that were undeniable to the naked eye.

“I can’t explain it. Maybe it doesn’t make any sense; you, me…” he trailed off, the butt of his thumb running over the curvilinear shape of your ear. “I watch you. Sometimes. Not to… sound creepy,” he added quickly, giving a somewhat apologetic look. “… You’re incredible. Calm in the face of danger, in the face of uncertainty. And. You’re not afraid,” he emphasized.

“Besides—” Poe bent down low, brushing his lips across yours, featherlight, causing a feeble mewl to escape before you had the time or the wherewithal to rein it in. “— what if we die. What if this is the only chance I ever get to tell you?”

He was right. What was the use of pondering the future, what could or could not be, based on the assumption that you were going to live another day, or two, or three. With the First Order threatening to undo all the hard work of the New Republic, your lot was on the run, your fierce and beloved leader the only thing keeping this small resistance group together, albeit haphazardly organized.

You feared for the general every waking moment, taking your orders come what may, keeping your head down, the only thing breaking the monotony of your day besides the constant fear of attack or death being this charming, handsome man who now held your attention, and had done so on more than one occasion.

“Kiss me again, then,” you begged, any objection you may have dared to make fleeing irrevocably to leave you open and vulnerable to the onslaught of his affection sans your better judgement.

“Mn, yeah?” he coyly asked, the fingers of his hand, dormant for your short discussion, reactivating to knead the base of your skull as he gently pulled you forward, Dameron once more inserting his crafty tongue into your waiting mouth.

His movements were thoughtful, tongue writhing and contracting in a measured orchestration that seemed rehearsed, yet special to this instant. Each loop was intricate, never so much as to be distracting, Poe’s delicious kiss spurring you to action.

You lifted your hand, allowing your fingers to clutch tufts of his hair. You moaned against him, his arms instinctively tightening around you before he pulled away, gasping for breath.

“Can I touch you?” he bashfully asked, hands smoothing over your back to descend in a downward sweep across your waist and hips. “Please, baby, please say yes. Please, please,” he whined, ardent pecks of his velvet lips only a bonus; you had not planned to turn him away regardless.

“Yes,” you sighed out lasciviously, thinking this entire situation was too good to be true. But why not embrace it for what it was? You deserved admiration, affection, love.

“Thank you,” he expressed with gratitude, as if you had given him his greatest wish, Poe adjusting himself accordingly as he gifted you with another lush, sensual kiss; it was tender and languid, feeling the movement of Dameron’s hand shift from the edge of your hip to the drawstring of your pants.

You were adorned in scrubs, a stark reminder of your station and position, yet you could not help that you were human with needs and urges to be fulfilled. Hell, you hadn’t even known you wanted this until it was happening, though life was anything but predictable - it was sporadic. And if Poe was anything, it was that.

You admired that about him. He had an almost childlike whimsy, taking all things in stride, even his injuries when he acquired them. He cared about others so often and so much he frequently forgot about this own ails. It was a good quality to have in a leader, and although he was often rebuked by his superiors, Dameron was an honorable commander and an even better pilot.

“Keep going,” you implored as you felt your desire building upon itself, pooling in the seat of your belly. Desperately, you wanted him to touch you, Poe inclining his head to one side as he broke apart from your pleading lips.

He made heady eye contact, the way he looked at you both dizzying and intoxicating, the man licking his teeth as he quipped a hushed “Yeah?” alongside the act of his fingers trailing to just below the hem of your waistband. They slipped down, down, two braver than the others as Poe’s index and middle finger disappeared beneath the front of your pants and past the soft, cotton layer of your panties.

Dameron groaned a sound, as if performing a task that was somewhat arduous, yet it was meant to evince appreciation for the soft bed of fluff that greeted him, all prim and trim. His breathing picked up, his probing appendages creeping further inside your undergarments; he whimpered against your throat, feeling welcomed by the warm slick that saturated his thick digits as he parted those soft, pillowy lips that lived between your hips, aligning the underside of his forefinger against the protuberance of your clit.

“Mn, you want this just as much as I do,” he teased, his words husky and sensuous, yet not at all meant to be disrespectful. He was the playful sort; you were glad it translated into other areas of his life, namely intimate moments like these, as it eased the tension you were feeling; the thought you were doing something you should not be doing; something wrong.

“Mhm,” you muttered, the interjection a dulcet susurration upon your partway puckered lips. It quickly devolved into an immodest moan as his thumb joined in, aiding in spreading your folds to allow him ease of access to your shrouded pearl.

“That’s it, baby,” he encouraged you, his tone coated in sugar sweetness as Poe continued to cheer you on, “you’re so soft, and warm, and— ohhh,” he cut himself short, feeling embarrassed for not only the sizeable boner he was jabbing into your leg, but the fact that if he did not control himself he might very well cum in his pants.

“I—mmn. Admiral Ackbar naked. Admiral Ackbar naked," he intoned at low volume; you proceeded to laugh, though Poe did not, a look of stern determination on his face. Still, that did not stop him from pleasuring you as he gingerly thumbed that little nub betwixt your thighs, concentric circles close-knit and diligently applied as you trembled enticingly in his arms.

“Is this OK?” he rumbled in your ear, his voice a throaty purr that made you pitch ever so slightly forward with the goal of kissing him again.

“Y-yes,” you managed, your body mildly spasming as you sought after his tongue, Dameron ever so subtly picking up speed in the way he massaged your swollen clit. It thrummed beneath his finger; he tested uncharted territory, gradually inserting his index inside you to the top of his second knuckle. You were already so wet there was barely any friction to speak of, Poe once more moaning aloud to impart his satisfaction to whoever was there to listen – you.

“Oh, you feel- you feel, so, so good,” he rattled off, priming that digit to curl just inside and against the anterior wall of your sex; you gasped, though you had known what was coming, you just didn’t know how amazing the sensation would feel until he was already pushing you toward an orgasm.

“Don’t stop,” you entreated anxiously, the pliant underside of his thumb continuing its mission as it stimulated your glandular bundle of nerves; they twitched faintly, pulsating under his proficient hands.

“OK, yes. Yes. Tell me. Tell me what you want, baby,” he affirmed. You were quick to answer.

“Another kiss,” you adjured, Poe indulging you before the words could die on your lips. The passion he brought to your embrace, the delicate way in which he held you, the rhythmic pattern of his tongue inside your mouth – it drove you to a quick release, Dameron sucking the heavy breaths from your lungs as he attempted to engulf you, so zealous was his appetite for your quiet, though rapturous praise.

You briefly closed your eyes to regain your composure, breathing ragged, then gazed upon his face as you struggled to recover. He pulled away to stare at you, the feeling of his forefinger sliding out of your soaked cunt something not to be ignored.

You gasped again, a tiny sound. Poe admired you with a twinkle in his eye. Then, he gravitated forward, bending so close to your ear. “I can do better.”

“What?” you questioned, confused, trying to curtail your panting breaths. The twinkle in his eye was infectious, spreading to his mouth, Poe’s pretty lips outstretching into a broad, mischievous grin.

“Wait,” he stated.

You observed as he bent forward into a crouch, sneaking along the wall toward the automated entry. Staying to its right, he was careful not to trigger its motion sensor, using the nearby keypad to lock it from the inside. This time, you did quirk a brow, Poe lowering the lights manually to off, but not before making sure the shades were closed to the rectangular window that gave you a mundane view into the hall. However, you may as well be seven feet tall in order to see out of it, and there were species that tall aboard this ship.

Overall, you felt stupid for not having done this before, yet everything had occurred so quickly. What if you had been caught by a co-worker, or your boss? You had no idea how to explain being fingered by Poe Dameron in a room that could otherwise be utilized to someone else’s benefit.

Then, the man came forward, standing to his full stature as he joined you where he had left you, haggard and still somewhat discombobulated from what just happened – that’s when he picked you up, bending at the knees to wrap both arms around your waist as he carried you aloft, your entire body remaining upright and vertical.

“Poe! What are you—”

“Shh, shh,” he endeavored to keep you silent, walking around the corner of the examination table to place you gently upon it in a somewhat forced, seated position. He immediately got to work, as he had started with your footwear, taking it upon himself to remove one shoe at a time.

“Are you a screamer, or are you a whiner?” he asked with another cheesy smile etched across his face, “because I don’t mind either, but the screaming may draw attention, and I assume that’s something you don’t want.”

“I-I don’t—”

“-know?” He shook his head as if in disbelief, though somehow not surprised. “Ooh, we’ve gotta set you straight, doc!”

You meant to argue, but with your shoes gone, Poe began to roll down your socks; it was one of the most intimate things you had experienced, watching with rapt attention as he pushed the fabric down bit by bit, replacing it with moist kisses along the top of your foot and up toward your now bare ankle.

“You don’t mind, right?” he asked offhand, Poe repeating the process on the other side; this time he enveloped your big toe, intaking it into his mouth as he teasingly sucked, mimicking a poi fish who wanted to dine on what it perhaps thought was a worm.

You involuntarily squirmed, pushing against the tops of his shoulders. “That tickles!” you declared, Poe gazing up into your eyes as a “pop” resounded upon release.

Then, with that same unapologetically severe, impassioned stare, Dameron rose to half-stand on his knees as his hands found your hips, fingers digging into the loose band at your waist. He pulled, softly but with enthusiasm, hypnotizing, chestnut-colored eyes once more drilling a hole straight down into your core as he tugged one pant leg off, then the other, followed by a move that would rid you of your underwear.

Partially naked, and on top of your own examination table no less, you instead tried to forget what repercussions might follow suit of your actions and leaned down to kiss the man again. He rose higher, forcing you to straighten your neck and back, Poe’s broad hands encasing the breadth of your face within them to hold you so, so carefully as he returned your gesture as naturally as if he was drinking water.

Come to find this was a tactic, the man releasing you after stealing your breath away a second or third time, hands sliding to lightly shove you back by the shoulders as he lay you down. At once he disappeared from your line of sight, leaving you faced with a view of the ceiling directly above your head; you idly wondered if you were both getting too far ahead of yourselves.

“Poe, I don’t think we should be—” You exhaled noisily, words caught as you choked on a breath, your overactive imagination unable to be controlled as you envisioned the intense kiss you had experienced earlier being reenacted between your legs. The man had pinned you by your hips,  kissing once, twice,  - feverishly -  the inguinal groove that connected your abdominal wall to your thigh, not wasting a moment’s time in making your briefly held fantasy come true.

“Hm? Mmmn,” Dameron hummed, his response muffled by your flesh. Your body stiffened before relaxing as he licked your already soaked slit with the flat of his tongue; it effortlessly slipped between the folds of your labia, Poe toying with your clit, running circles until the whole thing delved inside your opening.

The man pulled you forward by your thighs, closer to the edge of the table; you could feel the paper bedsheet sliding beneath you as he lapped at your cunt like it was a second mouth. He moaned into you, his breath hot on your skin, the scruff of his chin chaffing your legs, but you did not once complain.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” he whispered, the tip of that furled muscle retracting to glide upward along your delightfully slick vulva before it once more found the nub that was begging to be touched; it was already so sensitive.

Your chest heaved as a ripple of pleasure quaked through you, Poe beginning to suck the hard bit that was the recurrent object of his focus. At that moment, you felt blessed, belting out a sound that was a cross between elation and ecstasy, the final product being nothing more than a subdued pule from downy lips.

“Oh, fuck,” you crooned, your thighs progressively closing around either side of Poe’s head as you instinctively tried to brace yourself against your coming climax.

“That’s what I thought—ooh, hey,” the pilot protested, not liking one bit the sudden fettering of his movements. He dislodged himself, then pushed down with both his hands, parting your legs again to make sure he had unrestricted access to your cunt.

Then, he had an idea. “That’s not happening again,” he informed you with an impish smirk, Dameron lifting you up by the underside of your ass as he dragged you even closer, this time making use of the equipment made available to him, though this wasn’t exactly a gynecological exam. The scoundrel picked up both your feet, one after the other, making sure each one was secured in turn, having positioned you spread eagle with your shamelessly wet pussy put on full display.

“Ohh, this is beautiful. Perfect. You’re perfect.” The man had stopped to stare at the exquisite view before him, a hungry look overtaking his winsome visage; you had barely lifted your neck, perhaps meaning to address him, before you were forced to expel a mousy squeak following a show of near desperation on his part.

Poe had darted forward. Now hands-free and having situated you in stirrups, Dameron plunged his tongue back inside of you while clasping his fingers behind his back as he liked to imagine himself in binders. He tongue fucked you as your chest expanded and contracted with each euphoric breath, deep and slow, before he redirected all his energy back to your eager bud.

Then, his head joined in, bobbing back and forth as he enthusiastically ate you out like a man starved, consuming his first meal in weeks, months.

Wet sounds invaded your ears, Poe miming a hound lapping water; it only caused your clit to pulse, your right arm lowering for impatient fingers to latch onto his raven locks; you were careful not to disturb the dressings on his forehead even so, not wanting to let your hard work go to waste.

You held him steady; you pulled him closer, thighs trembling, though your legs still remained forced apart with knees jutting out to either side. It was the dirtiest, nastiest you had ever felt, yet at the same time Poe had made you feel alive. Alive, and not just waiting around to die.

You moaned lewdly as you gently bucked your hips, your body convulsing in rapture as his focus was laser sharp, the full expanse of his thick, skillful tongue caressing you softly from the cusp of your vagina to the vertex of your throbbing clit – over, and over, and over again.

The pattern he applied was slow and methodical, Poe’s cock beyond hard as he gently humped thin air. The man himself was groaning, speaking breathlessly against the soft flesh of your mound, even as he continued to dine.

“Baby, you taste so, so sweet. So, so, good. Mm, be a good girl, yeah? Nice and easy for me. Nice and easy…” The pilot’s words trailed off, that gentle lapping turning toward a precise, calculated stroke with just the tip, this being the very thing that drove to you the point of no return; you came again, one hand still buried in Poe’s hair as the other clasped at your breast.

“Mmmn, oh shit, oh fuck, Poe,” you cursed again, your entire being writhing in unbridled bliss as you rode out one of the most intense orgasms in recent history, this only encouraging the pilot to keep at it until you physically had to push his head away, albeit with caution.

Poe looked up at you with those emotive, gorgeous brown eyes, lips glossy with your excess; you panted heavily, looking down on what could only be described as a shit-eating grin. You took a few more moments to recuperate, then made a demand of him that even surprised yourself. “Fuck me, right now, please.”

That cocky smile faded, Dameron staring fixedly at your face. He searched each part of it, as if measuring the seriousness of your words, then sat up fully on his legs before standing completely to gaze down at you, chin glistening and damp, not noticing the red welts spattering the inside of your thighs from where his stubble had left its mark.

“Since you said please, and so, so nicely might I add,” he joked, undoing the holster at his waist with lightning speed as he let his Glie-44 blaster pistol fall to the floor at his feet.  You sat up on your elbows, enjoying the show, Poe unzipping and unbuckling his pants and belt with such wild, feral vigor, it was as if they were presently on fire.

“Mn, sweetheart, would you hate me if I said I’ve been dreaming of this?” Poe questioned, though you were unable to get a read on if he was being sincere or just full of hot air. You did not answer him, instead reveling in the desperate way the pilot kicked his boots off, witnessing his undressing between your parted legs.

They felt like jelly, still held up by the stirrups. You smiled salaciously, feeling oddly playful as you began to sway your knees back and forth to emulate the fluttering of butterfly wings; you amused yourself by fondling your overstimulated clit for his pleasure and your own, waiting ever so patiently for him to finish.

It only slowed him down; you almost laughed again, this man proving to be predictable as far as men go, spellbound by the fact you were touching yourself, and in front of him, no less.

Poe let out a laborious, rasping breath, as if his throat might be closing in on itself, pearly whites once more finding rose-colored lips as he chewed timidly on a plump bottom rung. At that same moment his pants fell down to his knees, leaving Dameron in his tight white underwear, his package so hard and compact it looked ready to burst free of its cotton prison.

“Fuck, that’s hot,” he professed mostly to himself, yet loud enough for you to hear him. He stumbled forward, releasing himself of the pants that still clung to him with every step, wide, warm hands placing themselves upon your knees, one for one.

“Mn, baby, for me?” he asked in a diffident tone, Poe’s cheeks burning hot as he was drawn in by the sexy spectacle before him. After a moment or two of getting lost in his own thoughts, he scrambled for his aching prick; it felt like it was going to erupt any moment now. Already it had leaked droplets of precum, the tip wet and sticky as it sprang loose.

The pilot began to pump himself as he was glued to the rhythmic stroking of your fingers; you teased him by inserting one within yourself, Poe moaning almost instantly as he came up to you all the way by the edge of the bed, gently batting your hand away. He aligned his dick against your slit, eyes laser focused, then he abruptly stopped what he was doing to lift his head and stare at you.

“You sure? What if-”  he hesitated, wanting reassurance.

“I’m protected,” you whispered, at once your feet lifting so that you could wind your legs around Poe’s waist like a serpent coiling about its prey. You squeezed lightly, drawing him in, Poe helping on his end by gently nudging the head of his cock against the lubricious entrance to your vagina.

Dameron shook this time, his body tremulous against you as he sank deeper and deeper into your warm center, guiding it slowly, his girth spreading you open as you gasped, arms overtaking him in addition to your legs; you wanted his chest pressed against yours, beckoning the man to lower himself to the proper height so that you might kiss him, fingers once more gathering in his shaggy mane.

“You f-feel, ohhhh… Like, like. Like clouds,” Dameron stammered, commenting on your plush, tepid walls as he finally bottomed out. He was slow to retract his hips, then slow to press them forward again, “It’s like breaking atmo; that euphoric feeling you get when—”

Poe cut himself off, lips compressing against one another to form a concentrated line. He closed his eyes, his pace deathly drawn-out, tortuously so, each stroke of him inside you sending pinpricks of pleasure throughout your nerve-endings, both from without and within.

It was endearing. Not knowing of all the nuances comprising this pilot’s personality, this one surprised you. Poe had always seemed so high-strung, so exuberant; it was a change of pace to see him take his time on something -  you.

With a tilt of your neck, your mouth found his, your tongue slithering between his teeth to taste yourself on him. You sighed fervently, pulling him closer by the meat of your thighs, in turn interring him deeper within yourself.

“I won’t break,” you informed him softly, having pulled away to encourage Dameron to rise above his stupor and fuck you like he meant it. Poe gave a slow, deliberate nod of his head in return, as if trying to find his center and a place of calm before he would be able to continue.

“Right,” he finally said, intaking a sharp inhalation of oxygen as he rocked forward, pitching his hips so that they were flush against yours. He dipped back again, repeating these motions in a syncopated rhythm, and you finding it impossible to keep your mouth from hanging open as he hit his stride.

“Just like that,” you cooed silkily, your breath warm and wispy against his ear. This alone sent Poe to a higher plane, somewhere you were sure you could not reach him, causing Dameron to make a helpless, needy sound.

You felt a warm gush; a spurt of something that was unexpected this early in the game. Poe’s face contorted pleasantly into a look of ecstasy. You watched, fascinated, the pilot coming inside you after only a few pumps. Hell, you didn’t even mind; he had given you yours twice over. You felt a kind of privilege bestowed upon you; the knowledge that your pussy must be made of solid gold. That, or he really did like you.

“Oh fuck, ohh no, shit, I-I’m sorry,” Poe stuttered, his tone indicative of embarrassment. You tried to lighten the mood with a joke, dotting tiny kisses along the corner of his mouth in an attempt to quell his mounting anxiety.

“What was that about setting me straight?” you teased, Poe forced to laugh despite himself as he tried to catch his breath. He shook his head, brawny biceps propping him up just above you, jet-black strands dangling down to brush against your nose as he sighed a dejected sigh.

“You’re just so pretty, and I was excited, you know? I- It’s- It’s been a while,” he clumsily explained, “haven’t had the time to actually masturbate, being in the middle of a war and all—”

You cut him off with a kiss, a forceful press of your lips to his. It was your way of shutting him up, aiming to put a stopper in all of his excuses; it did not matter to you.

“Poe, it’s fine,” you affirmed, cradling the antsy man’s refined jaw in the crook of your palm, “these things happen. I’m not upset. You already got me off twice; that’s more than most men for the entirety of a relationship.”

You had exaggerated that last part for a bit of dramatic flair, this particular white lie having no purpose other than to bolster Poe’s self-esteem and to make him feel better. He smiled at you, a genuine, honest-to-God smile, as if coming to terms with the fact he had no need to worry, and that he might just get a second chance one day, contrary to what he had at first believed.

“So, uh—” he started, lifting gently up and off of you; his cock incrementally eased its way out of you, the remnants of his seed thick and sticky as it flowed freely out and onto the exam table.

He scrunched an eye, as if still ashamed, Poe sucking on his bottom lip to alleviate the mental anguish he was suffering before he sheepishly asked you a question, “Now that we’ve gotten to third base, would you care to visit first?”

You propped yourself up on your forearms, quirking a brow as you rose to sit. He assumed correctly, thinking that you did not take his meaning, Poe following up to explain more succinctly. “Dinner, maybe? Or—”

Sirens began to blare, a red alert sounding all throughout the Anodyne. A voice rang out over the internal comm; Dameron and you were quickly put on edge.

“Attention, all personnel: report to stations. This is not a drill. I repeat, this is not a drill.”

Your face fell, as did Poe’s. He gazed at you a moment, ignoring the awful clamor in the background as people began to race throughout the halls just beyond the door. It was as if time stood still, and you were unable to break away from Dameron’s dark gaze. The man, who was so amiable and easygoing, now looked browbeaten and worn, knowing that any minute now he would have to find BB-8 and return to his X-wing when he had wanted nothing more than to relax in your company. Wishful thinking, he mused.

You were the first to move, rushing to get up. You found a towel and cleaned yourself up, collecting your clothes from off the floor; somehow, your tunic had remained intact, though you would hold out for a future time when Poe might touch those parts of you, too. It was hard not to want to imagine him with his soft lips puckered about your nipple as his stocky fingers massaged and revered your breasts.

“Attention: all pilots, return to hangar. Repeat: all capable pilots return to your ships.”

“It was just as well, huh?” he asked solemnly, referring to the abrupt end of your impromptu rendezvous.

“Go,” you commanded, Poe’s stare lingering, amber eyes piercing you with a look that was ironically impenetrable; resolute, yet somehow somber, wistful.

He broke away, finally, and with difficulty, scrambling to adjust his briefs before throwing back on his pants and buttoning his shirt. He hitched his holster around his hips, the boots made to go on last. You observed as he hopped around on one foot, once more finding him to be endearing as you turned to rush toward the refresher, steadfast in your desire to use the sonic, if only for a moment; you needed to rinse off before returning to the med bay, as was your duty.

Poe called out to you by name; you whirled to face him. The man’s fluffy eyebrows were stitched together as he could only stare at you again. Then, he seemed to finally come-to, stepping the few paces forward that separated you.

“I’ll comm you later?” he asked more than stated, the backs of his knuckles running the length of your cheek. You could only nod, leaning up to kiss him one last time.

“Come back in one piece, OK? I don’t want to have to stitch you up again; be careful,” you urged him. He smiled that charming, boyish smile that made your heart race, as radiant as ever; his mood could change so suddenly.

“No promises,” he replied, meaning it in jest, yet you knew there was some truth to it.

You parted ways with the best damn pilot in the galaxy, hope being the only thing left to you both now. Hope that he would never have to step foot back aboard this frigate, but that if he did, it would be for some better reason, and not because he had failed to heed your warning.

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