#* ⟢ POE DAMERON ❮ visage ❯

[inkedwaters]

nothing  to  see  pt  1

*    ⟢    LEIA  ORGANA     ❮   visage   ❯

*    ⟢    LEIA  ORGANA     ❮   script   ❯

*    ⟢    LEIA  ORGANA     ❮   aesthetic   ❯

*    ⟢    LEIA  ORGANA     ❮   study   ❯

*    ⟢    LEIA  ORGANA     ❮   desires   ❯

*    ⟢    LEIA  ORGANA     ❮   headcanons   ❯

*    ⟢    LEIA  ORGANA     ❮   edits   ❯

*    ⟢    POE  DAMERON     ❮   visage   ❯

*    ⟢    POE  DAMERON     ❮   script   ❯

*    ⟢    POE  DAMERON     ❮   aesthetic   ❯

*    ⟢    POE  DAMERON     ❮   study   ❯

*    ⟢    POE  DAMERON     ❮   desires   ❯

*    ⟢    POE  DAMERON     ❮   headcanons   ❯

*    ⟢    POE  DAMERON     ❮   edits   ❯

[theysparked]

visage star wars tags

[freelancearsonist]

Hi Clarke could I have "if you called just to get off I'm hanging up." With my wonderful flyboy Poe Dameron please.

absolutely! i hope you enjoy 💕

warnings: afab!reader, long distance relationship, pinning galore, maybe a little angst if you squint, basically just straight up smutty and sexy poe

It’s hard to make a relationship like this work, because Poe is only home a couple days a week and even then he’s hard at work trying to get the galaxy back on its feet in the wake of the Empire.

You don’t blame him at all—you think the work he does is incredible, and there isn’t anyone else better for the job.

But it’s hard. Especially on days like today, when all you want is to curl up in his arms, to feel his warmth and reassurance. You can’t, because he’s on the other side of the galaxy helping people who need it. It makes you feel guilty, wanting so much of his attention when there are so many people who need him more.

You can’t help taking pride in the fact that you’re the one he comes home to, though. You’re the one he calls every night just to hear the sound of your voice.

He rings your commlink right on time, just as you’re getting ready for bed. For some reason, you make an effort to fluff your hair and arrange yourself on the bed in the most alluring fashion possible before answering.

He’s certainly a vision when his hologram pops up out of the small receiver. Hair ruffled, collar open to show just a peek of the shiny metal chain resting against his chest. There’s a slight red flush to the bronze of his skin, a familiar sign that he’s just settling down for the night.

“Poe,” you greet him with a smile. “How was your day?”

“Lot better now that I get to see you, sweetheart.” His tone is slightly deeper than usual—you watch with rapt attention as he sets his commlink on his desk and leans back in his chair. His eyes are dark, and you can see clearly the way they trail slowly down and back up your figure.

“What’re you looking at?” You ask with a laugh in your tone. It’s been so long since you felt his hands on your body, his lips on yours. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t miss it. You’d also be lying if you said you weren’t basking in the way he was practically devouring you with his eyes.

“Just taking in my beautiful, sexy partner,” he says with a salacious grin. “You look so good, baby.”

His hands move down to his thighs, unconsciously tracing up and down in the way you normally would touch him at this point, and you’re suddenly aware of what this is going to become.

“If you called just to get off I'm hanging up,” you tell him, but there’s no menace in your voice. It’s completely teasing, and it brings a smile to his face.

“You’re right. Where are my manners? How was your day, honey?”

“It was good,” you tell him, pulling your top off as you speak—and then you smirk. “A lot better now that I get to see you.”

“Oh, now who’s using who?” He teases with nothing but admiration in his voice. You’ve never seen his eyes so dark before as he takes in the swell of your breasts and the way your nipples harden just from his gaze. “God, you’re so beautiful.”

“Wish you were here.” There’s just a hint of whine to your voice that you can’t conceal as your hands trail to tease yourself for his viewing pleasure.

It’s exactly what he needs, though, because a looses a throaty groan and tears his own shirt over his head. “Fuck, honey, I wish I was too. Miss you so much.”

“Miss you too.”

He bites his lip and leans closer, eager to soak in every last little detail of your visage.

“Maker,” he breathes. “So beautiful. Wish I could touch you right now. Feel you, make you feel good.”

“Can I touch myself? Please?” You haven’t felt this needy in ages, and you can’t even bring yourself to feel embarrassed about it.

“Yeah, baby,” he groans as he palms himself over his pants. “Please honey, please show me how you make yourself feel good.”

You don’t waste another second before wiggling out of your bottoms and spreading your legs wide so he can see every movement you make as your fingertips start circling your clit.

He swears lowly as he watches, knuckles going nearly white as he palms himself and tries to keep from losing his head.

It’s hard though, especially as he watches you push a finger into your dripping heat. He moans with you, as if he can feel it himself.

There’s no more waiting, no more restraining. He pushes his pants down rapidly and gives his cock a long, slow stroke, nearly trembling from the relief.

“Oh god,” you moan, trembling as you match the brutal pace he sets on himself.

He lets out a noise that’s close to animalistic as you add another finger to your efforts, trying your best to stretch yourself as much as he would. “Can’t wait to be inside you again. Can’t wait to feel that warm little cunt squeezing my cock, begging me to fill it.”

It’s not long before you’re shaking apart around your fingers, legs trembling to the rhythm of Poe’s moans as he works himself through his own release.

“Fuck.” It’s more of a panted moan than an actual statement, but you know what he’s trying to say.

With a smile, you sit up and pull your commlink closer to get a better look at him. “Come home soon, flyboy.”

[gcdeater]

𝒉𝒆, 𝒍𝒊𝒌𝒆 𝒎𝒆, 𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒂𝒖𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕.

oscar isaac . cis man . he/him ➶ DID YOU SEE THEM ?!  they’re finally back as a SPECTATOR , and you know they’re one of my favourites ! it’s FINNICK ODAIR , the FORTY-THREE year old WINNER of the SIXTY-FIFTH hunger games! i’m just so excited to see them returning to the capitol all the way from DISTRICT FOUR ! they won their games using A TRIDENT / CHARISMA so their tributes will no doubt be desperate for their wisdom. the capitol just loved them for being so CHARMING , even if they have been known to be ARROGANT at times. they DO  have a relative in this years games . ( character IS part of the uprising ) 

STATS

name: finnick odair birthday: august 13th zodiac: leo sun, pisces moon, libra rising gender: cis-man pronouns: he/him orientation: bisexual biromantic role: victor of the sixty-fifth hunger games district: four family: annie cresta (wife), gill cresta-odair (son), sinead odair ☠ (mother), callahan odair ☠ (father), desmond odair ☠ (brother), enya odair ☠ (sister) faceclaim: oscar isaac

PERSONALITY

positive traits: charismatic, loyal, dedicated, generous, considerate, steadfast, protective, adventurous negative traits: egoistic, haunted, overbearing, dramatic, paranoid, vindictive  moral alignment: chaotic good mbti: enfj-a (the protagonist) enneagram: x temperament: x deadly sin: pride heavenly virtue: kindness parallels: brian o’connor (fast and furious), westley (the princess bride), nairobi (money heist), poe dameron (star wars: last jedi)

BACKGROUND

cw: murder, ptsd, implied coercion, implied sex work

You learn your way around a knot long before a book. Your parents insisted on taking all of their kids on the water in infancy. Learning to swim always preceded learning to walk. You remember being on the ship's floor, tying knots alongside your brother and sister, constantly competing to decide who’s most proficient at net making. 

The trident comes when you’re 4. It’s a common occurrence, so much so that they make child-sized tridents for this reason. Your parents teach you to fish this way, never out of necessity. The fullest meaning of their teachings would evade you until adolescence.

Your family manages to become so close-knit that you often forget you’re a family of careers. When not at specialty schools founded to produce career victors, you are spending time with family and friends, moving relatively freely throughout your district. 

You are dually mischievous and beloved. You earn the adoration and disdain of other teens your age. Your friends are as plentiful as your crushes and misbehavior. As are the broken hearts left in your wake. 

District 4 is more rebellious than most. You are given hundreds of reasons to despise them long before you can do anything about it. When the time came for you to win the games, you’d begin destroying it from the inside out. 

When you’re 14, your younger sister is reaped. The intention was always for your older brother to volunteer in either of your places, but you, cheeky as ever, beat him to volunteering when the moment came. A mixture of panic and amusement appears to overcome your family. 

You are cheeky and charming throughout the entire process. These qualities, alongside a visage kissed by the gods, earn you the favor of an entire nation. You simply do what you do best, and that makes people adore you.

The tropical arena almost perfectly suits your skillset. You make do with spears and knives at the beginning of the game. You are daringly solo throughout the entirety of it, not wanting to be hindered by another person.

When a sponsor gifts the trident, things go indefinitely in your favor. You’d trained almost your entire life for this moment. Deadly with the trident, it becomes an extension of your arms in your best moments. You begin creating nets with the jungle vines, using them to capture unsuspecting victors before finishing them off with your trident. This effort is eventually enough to carry you to victory. 

At first, victory is better than you could’ve ever expected. You are reunited with your family in the Victors’ Village, returning home to new lodgings even better than the last ones. You attend to your victor duties in the Capitol as necessary. You don’t realize how much they take a toll on you initially. The nightmares from the games are something else you’re unprepared for. You hadn’t expected your fellow competitors to continue living alongside you.

Some time after you’re twenty, President Snow presents you with an offer. Provide your company to wealthy capitolites. Don’t comply, and watch your family be massacred one by one. You bite your tongue, choosing cooperation until an alternative arises. 

Doting touches in exchange for the highest form of currency: secrets. In the Capitol, they are frequent and plentiful. You collect them for your own purposes and in the name of rebellion. The general public is none the wiser. To them, you’ve merely collected a plethora of lovers since your victory. 

Somewhere down the line, you make the mistake of falling in love. You begin a mentor and leave a lover. The only difference is that you crave her love above all else. So much so that it inspires you to cut ties with the life you’ve made in the Capitol once and for all.  

There are mixed feelings surrounding your retirement, but an overarching acceptance that they would no longer have your company. You marry your beloved, using a portion of your earnings for a familial home. Even amidst the haunting,  you always knew you wanted a family. When your son is born, your family adores him with as much veracity as they loved you. 

Your biggest mistake is allowing yourself to be complacent — even for a moment. You return to your childhood home, only to discover your family’s been massacred. You scramble for a reason, one which President Snow readily provides you. Leaving the Capitol was never up to you. The official reason is cited as rebel activity, though you understand best of all the underlying reasons. 

The remainder of your life is led in caution. You are weary of keeping others close, choosing instead to dedicate most of your time to what family you have left. Tragedy warps your personhood further. An air of reclusiveness that wasn’t there prior. You toe the line between the uprising and your familial duties. At every moment, you can’t help but wonder— 

What comes next? The weight of the sky already rests upon your shoulders. 

FUN FACTS

While Finnick is wholly against raising children as careers, he ensures Gill is equipped with proper survival skills. 

Is a seafood connoisseur. The best person to whip up a seafood dish.

Finnick is in tiptop shape. In a way, he never stopped training for the games, even long after it was over. He continues to be an avid swimmer and a master with the trident.

Is very much dadcore. Has special shoes just for grilling, and a plethora of Hawaiian shirts for vacations he’ll never go on. He’s more of a wine guy than a beer man, but what he lacks in IPA knowledge, he makes up for in dad jokes. 

Finnick’s been plagued with nightmares since immediately after the games. He tries to disguise them from the wider public, but it’s become increasingly difficult recently.

PLOT HOOKS

childhood friends / adolescent crushes / short lived relationships (prior to 23) /  victor friends he made in the capitol /  someone he knows secrets about / enemies he made in the capitol / unlikely capitolite friends / other middle aged people with kids to be friends with / an unofficial dad club (not limited to dads, welcome to anyone who enjoys embarrassing their kids around their crushes and owns a pair of grilling sandals)

[affcgato-archived]

someone give me an excuse to use these icons

[loteriias-moved]

tag drop: poe dameron.

𝟏𝟎.     poe dameron     »     la resistencia     »     ic.

𝟏𝟎.     poe dameron     »     la resistencia     »     wishlist.

𝟏𝟎.     poe dameron     »     la resistencia     »     study.

𝟏𝟎.     poe dameron     »     la resistencia     »     dash commentary.

𝟏𝟎.     poe dameron     »     la resistencia     »     crack.

𝟏𝟎.     poe dameron     »     la resistencia     »     crossover.

𝟏𝟎.     poe dameron     »     la resistencia     »     aesthetic.

𝟏𝟎.     poe dameron     »     la resistencia     »     visage.

𝟏𝟎.     poe dameron     »     la resistencia     »     open.

𝟏𝟎.     poe dameron     »     la resistencia     »     answered.

𝟏𝟎.     poe dameron     »     la resistencia     »     playlist.

𝟏𝟎.     poe dameron     »     la resistencia     »     headcanon.

𝟏𝟎.     poe dameron     »     la resistencia     »     v: marvel.

𝟏𝟎.     poe dameron     »     la resistencia     »     v: young.

𝟏𝟎.     poe dameron     »     la resistencia     »     v: pre tfa.

𝟏𝟎.     poe dameron     »     la resistencia     »     v: tfa.

𝟏𝟎.     poe dameron     »     la resistencia     »     v: post tfa.

𝟏𝟎.     poe dameron     »     la resistencia     »     v: tlj.

𝟏𝟎.     poe dameron     »     la resistencia     »     v: post tlj.

𝟏𝟎.     poe dameron     »     la resistencia     »     v: tros.

𝟏𝟎.     poe dameron     »     la resistencia     »     v: post tros.

[honeylikewords]

Miguel or Poe trying to plan a birthday surprise for their gf.

Oh, thank you for the prompt! I’ve been just dying to write some cute Oscar-boy stuff (and it’s Oscar’s birthday today, too, as of yesterday!), and today’s been stressful, too, so this will be a good calm-down. I’ll write a little something for both boys!

Poe:

Poe’s big plan is a surprise party. All her friends, all of his (or, at least, the group of his friends that she gets along with), family, and their pets, if he can swing it. Anyone and everyone to celebrate his little love! After all, Poe’s a big fan of pulling out all the stops and making a big deal of his beloved, wanting everyone to admire her and see how wonderful she is.

He’s actually quite the clever little tactician, managing to take his sweetheart out for a full day of activities that don’t exhaust her but keep her sufficiently busy so that their apartment can be opened up by Finn (with a copy of Poe’s key), letting the guests in to set up the apartment with decorations and food and gifts, getting everything in order before the guest of honor (and her man) come home.

Poe keeps her distracted all day long, and at some point he almost starts to forget about the party; just spending the day with her on her birthday is a celebration in and of itself. He accompanies her as she mills around shops and explores the city, laughing with her, gawking at overpriced goods with her (“They want fifty for this?,” he hisses, holding up a neon lamp in a hipster boutique. “I could make us one for five!”), offering to buy her things here and there that she always politely refuses.

“You gotta let me spoil you, baby,” he coos as he places his hand on the small of her back, doing his best approximation of a puppydog pout. It’s a very, very good pout. “Your birthday comes but once a year!”

“And you always try to drag it out into a week-long thing,” she replies, “And you give me all these gifts, and it’s very, very sweet, but I don’t want you going out of your way for me! It’s not necessary to make a big fuss over me!”

“Starlight, I go out of my way for you because it’s a good thing to do for someone you love.” Poe slips his hand around hers and squeezes, meeting her gaze with firm but loving eyes. “I don’t want to overdo it, because doing too much might end up making you unhappy, but doing something to show you that you matter to me? That I care about you? That, for you, I’d go to the ends of the universe and back just on a whim of yours? Well, you know,” he smiles, leaning in to kiss her temple, “I think that’s necessary. Because I wanna show you, the world, and myself just how much I love you.”

“Aw, sweetheart!–”

“And that is why I am buying you this, right now,” Poe announces as he grabs an oversized plush of a marshmallow Peep bunny down from the shelf– she’d been admiring it earlier, making that sad little face Poe notices she always makes when she can’t justify to herself buying something she likes– and makes a break for the counter. 

“I AM DOING THIS BECAUSE I LOVE YOU!,” he yells behind him as he runs. She reaches a hand out to stop him, to call and tell him to not waste his money, but he’s already out of range and headed straight to the register.

As they’re walking out of the store (Poe’s arms viced around the gigantic yellow bunny-shaped stuffie, making it hard for him to walk without periodically leering his head around the side of the Peep’s enormous ears), she brushes her fingers along his forearm, a quiet, intimate gesture. 

“Poe?”

“Yeah?” His voice is slightly muffled by the Peep.

“…I love you very much, and I appreciate everything you do for me.”

“C’mere,” he smiles, sticking his head out from behind the Peep and puckering his lips, making his dearest smile as she leans in to kiss him. “I love you, darling, to the galaxy’s edge and back. Further, even! To the edge of the physical realm and back! To the void of antimatter and back! To the–”

“I know, baby,” she laughs. “I know.”

When they finally get back home, Poe pretends to struggle to unlock the door.

“What with my hands being rather full,” he grins at her, hoisting the Peep up in his arms. “Would you mind getting it? Keys are in my front pocket.”

She reaches in and finds the keys– while Poe makes comedic little gasps and waggles his eyebrows at her, murmuring “my, my, ma’am, can’t even wait ‘til we’re indoors” before getting shushed firmly– then unlocks the door, swinging it open.

She is then met with a loud chorus of voices, all joyously announcing “SURPRISE!”

As she stands in shock, Poe sets the Peep down and steps up behind her, smiling from ear to ear, the handsome crinkles around his eyes bunched together as he puts his hand against her back and rubs his thumb up and down her spine, absorbing the beauty of her wonderstruck face.

“Happy birthday, princess,” he whispers.

She tosses her arms around him and laughs as the guests all surge forward; it’s a shock, but she’s so grateful for her clever, kind, over-the-top man as she greets her guests, holding his hand and reeling with surprise.

Poe never leaves her side during the whole affair, even as all the guests mill around the apartment and dole out the birthday wishes. He holds her hand and stays near her, watching her with glee as she reacts joyfully to the festivities. When the time comes for the cake’s candles to be lit and the song to be sung, Poe is front and center, leading the chorus, his voice the loudest, strongest, and loveliest.

“Happy birthday, my darling,” he sing-songs, “Ha-a-a-ppy birthday to-o-o-o yo-o-o-o-u!”

She glows in the candlelight, her smile shining warm and bright back at him, and Poe’s heart fills with pride and love, an unmatched adoration. She looks so beautiful when she’s happy, and Poe is thrilled beyond words to have been able to be part of bringing this happiness to fruition. 

Miguel:

Miguel’s birthday surprise is a little less social. Miggy is more of a recluse, more of a private person, so he doesn’t feel up to inviting a huge group of people over and dealing with the headache of a party. Instead, the surprise he plans to bestow on his beloved is this: a trip for just the two of them, away from Nueva York.

It’s not a long trip– the obligations of heroism prevent him from straying too far for too long– but it’s enough to, hopefully, refresh his spirits and show her that he cares about her enough to set aside time for just them.

However, the logistics of planning such a trip means there’s a great deal of secrecy and evasion needed on his part. Miguel tries his best to be subtle, but logging her information for the plane tickets and booking hotels without her noticing is a bit of a feat, sometimes. She can be so darn inquisitive, and he feels bad lying to her, or pretending that he’s not doing something big like this for her.

He wants her to know, but he also doesn’t want to spoil the surprise. He knows she’ll love it (she’s been talking about wanting to get out of the city and visiting the smaller, quieter nature-near towns elsewhere in the country), but still he frets, hoping he’s doing this right. After all, it’s not like he’s had all that much practice celebrating birthdays, whether his own or others; his family life had been far too harsh to allow for birthday joy. But he wants her to have a wonderful, special time with him, and feel the depths of his love, so he buckles down and makes the necessary arrangements.

“That’s funny,” his girlfriend says, hanging up the phone and turning to him, her brow knotted a little, “That was work.”

“Mm? What’d they say?”

“They said that I don’t need to come in next week; something about the office being closed for fumigation.”

“Odd,” Miguel says, trying not to smile at his own cleverness– he’d called in for her and asked for her to have the week off, then asked his beloved’s friend, the receptionist, to tell that fib– then joins her, tangling fingers together.

“But I suppose it’ll be nice to have you all to myself for the week,” he continues, softly petting her cheek and winking at her. “Birthday’s coming up and all, so… perhaps the lovely lady wants a whole week’s worth of festivities?”

“Oh, lord, no,” she snorts, batting his hand playfully. 

“Really,” teases Miguel, “No week-long bacchanalias? No swinging-from-the-chandeliers Gatsby-grade galas? No exorbitant gold and jewel-encrusted tiaras to mark the birthday princess’s passing through the streets?”

“Miggy, come on!”

“I know, I know,” he abates, kissing her cheek. “But at least promise to let me take you to dinner, hmm?”

“Dinner would be a delight,” and she punctuates her sentence with a peck on his lips before sighing and relaxing her head onto his shoulder, swaying with him for a moment.

Miguel puts a hand on her head and strokes along her hair, admiring the texture, the weight, the scent and warmth of her. She cuddles into him, and he kisses her forehead, silently soothing her.

When her birthday finally rolls around, Miguel puts on a nice suit– not overfancy, but still good enough to let her know he considers the occasion upscale– and takes her to dinner at a quiet, higher-end restaurant. They talk over dinner, laughing and sharing stories, anecdotes from the week, memories. As they’re paying the bill, polishing off the last remnants of their plates, Miguel casually mentions that he wants to leave Nueva York, get some fresh air.

“We could go,” she says quietly, moving some garnish around on her empty plate with her fork, hesitant. “I have the week off, you know, and we could just… I dunno, get in the car, go on a road trip? Get a motel, I dunno…”

“Sweetie,” Miguel offers, taking her hand and suppressing a laugh, “I assure you, a motel will not be necessary.”

“Do you… not want to go? It’s okay, it was a silly idea, anyway–”

“Don’t be so hasty,” says Miguel as he reaches into his coat, pulling out an envelope, his smile so wide that his fangs are visible. “I never said I didn’t want to go.”

He places the envelope on the table and nudges his chin at it, a nonverbal cue for her to open it. She looks between him and the envelope, almost as if waiting, but slowly opens it and pulls out its contents.

Two airline tickets and a receipt of reservation at a hotel out in the countryside, far, far from Nueva York. She looks at the names on the tickets: hers and Miguel’s, side by side. She blinks, then looks back at him, her eyes beginning to water.

“Miggy, really?”

“All paid for, set and ready. The plane’s scheduled for tomorrow, if you’re ready.”

“I… I don’t know what to say!”

“A ‘yes’ and ‘let’s rush home to pack bags and then do some birthday canoodling’ would be music to my ears,” Miguel jokes, putting his chin in his hand and grinning at her. “But if it’s a ‘no’, I can get refunded on all of this and buy you something better.”

“Miguel, there couldn’t be anything better than being with you,” she smiles, leaning over the table to kiss him enthusiastically. “Let’s go, let’s get our bags! Oh, I just can’t wait!”

“Me either! A hotel room all to ourselves… think of the mischief we’ll make!���

“Miggy!”

He laughs as they stand from the table and rush to head home, her hand in his, an adventure awaiting them. She seems to gleam with anticipation, her eyes glittering with mirth and impatience, and Miguel’s heart beats fast to see her so gloriously excited. He feels her pull him in for a big kiss as they hail down a taxi to get home, and his eyes fall shut, his thrill rising in his belly.

This may have been a birthday surprise for her, he thinks, but, God, is it as much a gift for himself to be with her like this.

[nimphs]

poe  dameron      /      tags.

[mortaem]

⸸    tags    /    poe dameron.  

[mortaem-a]

⸸    poe  dameron.  

[hauntyngmoved]

poe.

[userpoe]

heaven can’t help me now

Pairing: poe dameron x reader  Rating: teen Word count: 1.3k Warnings: alcohol consumption, no pronouns used but reader wears a dress

read on ao3!

“Love how you just sit in the corner and brood,” you say by way of announcing your presence as you stumble towards the back wall of the hangar where Poe has drawn away too, leaned back against a crate with one leg hooked over the other and nursing the same glass of hooch he’d gotten almost an hour earlier.

Your comment draws a lazy smile to his face even if his voice is saturated with indigance when he replies, “I don’t brood, thank you. It’s just nice to sit back and watch everyone else at these sometimes.” 

‘These’ happened to be an impromptu celebration for a mission gone well for Blue Squadron - Snap was currently being hammered with praise and details, his cheeks flushed bright pink from it and no doubt how many kisses he’d gotten from Kare since he got back. Poe’s right, you realize; it is nice to be away from the center of the party, to admire it from the outskirts.

It’s a much better plan than the one you’d been mentally concocting, which had been to just slip away entirely to head back to your quarters early. Parties aren’t really your thing and as much as you love all the pilots here, they can be just a bit too rowdy in their celebrations for your liking - too friendly, too chipper, too loud.

It gets overwhelming - fast. Especially with the thick throng of people that have gathered here. 

You don’t recline back on the floor like Poe has, because you’re still uncertain whether you’ll stick around or not, but you’re not particularly inclined to leave just yet either. You like being around him; he’s so full of life in a way you’re often not, but it’s not in a way that’s unbearable, but more like…comforting. 

“So instead of sitting in a corner brooding,” you reply slowly, mind working overtime to come up with a good way to tease him a little bit, “you’re sitting in a corner being a ginormous sap.” 

Poe holds his cup in salute, his smile widening into a proper grin. “Yep,” he pops the ‘p’ at the end, pulls his cup back down and immediately makes a face as the smell hits his nostrils again. “Ugh, yeah I’m done with that.”

“Not a fan of Yolo’s infamous hull-stripper?” 

“More of a mixed drinks kind of guy myself,” Poe admits. He sits the drink aside on the top of the crate and stands up. “You were thinking of getting outta here, weren’t you?” 

Something warm flutters behind your ribcage from how easily he’s read you, but you can help the guilty expression that flashes across your face. “Yeah, actually I was. It’s just a bit too -” as if on cue, the crowd roars with laughter and you flinch - “loud for me.”

Poe chuckles as he grabs his drink again. As he leans down, your eyes flick over his midnight back curls, focusing on the way they fall around his visage at the movement. They look soft. On more than one embarrassing occasion, you’ve gotten distracted wondering just how soft while talking with him. “Want to walk with me? It’s getting kind of late anyway and one thing I’ve learned from the General, most people tend to enjoy parties more without a commanding officer around.”

You force your gaze back down to his face which is open and earnest. “I’d love that.”

- - -

Poe might not enjoy the hull-stripper, but you do. It’s strong, tastes awful and burns going down, but you find it a more pleasurable taste than the wine someone had found off-world and brought back a couple months ago. It had taken you two hours to get the taste out of your mouth, and you’d complained even longer to Poe about how it tasted like straight alcohol without any flavoring (“are we sure they didn’t just grab it out of the medbay and change the labels?”).

As the two of you walk, D’Qar’s summer breeze makes the skirt of your dress flutter. It’s nice out, since the nights aren’t often as warm as the days are, and you find yourself wishing the sweater you’d dragged out was a little thicker than it is.

 “I don’t think that’s what the movie’s supposed to be about,” you say after swallowing another sip, trying hard not to think much on the fact that you’re drinking from the same cup Poe had - that would lead to far more dangerous thoughts, like thinking about his lips.

Poe raises an eyebrow at you, his hands shoved into his pockets. “No?”

“It’s a horror movie,” you remind him empathetically, coming around in front of him to walk backwards so you can better coax him into your line of thought. “It’s a movie about her besting all these ghosts that haunt her from her past, blaming her for the ‘sins’ of her mother -” you make the air quotes with your fingers - “and learning to open up and heal from that trauma.”

You can tell by the look in his eyes that he agrees, but that doesn’t stop him from giving you a shrug. “I still think it’s also a love story.” 

“How?” is your slightly slurred demand as the two of you wander further inward, away from the airfield and back into the base. Even in your intoxicated state, you’re familiar with the path back to your quarters and you feel a pang of disappointment that your night with Poe is already coming to a close. 

“Well, the b-plot of the movie happens to be a love story —”

“More of a c-plot, really —”

“And the third movie ends with the implication that she’s found love again. I like to see it as a ‘love triumphs over all’ kind of story.” Poe explains as you both round a corner. “And not just romantic love. The series does a good job of focusing on friendship too.”

You huff in annoyance that you have to concede to Poe’s point as you come to a stop outside your quarters. Poe reaches around you, punching in your code so you can go in. He trails in after you, moving a little faster to steady you as you go to kick off your shoes. Despite the chill outside, his hands are warm enough you can feel it through the sheer fabric of your sweater. “Why do you always have to have such good insights on things? It’s not attractive.”

Poe chuckles, “You just say that because you didn’t win your argument.” 

You glower at his back as he moves away to sit aside the cup you’d stolen from him, but any urge to continue your debate dissipates at the sight of your bed. You flop down on it dramatically, the dress skirt flaring up around you as your back hits the mattress. Maker, you’re sleepy. The kind of blissful drowsiness that comes oh so very rarely. “How are you not so tired?”

“Oh, I am tired,” Poe says as he returns to you. He sits down at the edge of the mattress and you hum at how it dips, rolling you closer to him. It takes a lot of willpower not to just full-heartedly embrace that and curl into his side. “I’m just not the same tired as you are.”

You’re about to ask him what kind of tired he is when the words get stuck in the back of your throat as his hand lands on your thigh, fingers grasping around the fabric of your dress to gently tug it back down for you from where it’d ridden up. Even as long as you’ve known each other, you’re still not used to how tactile he can be, how much it makes you melt everytime he touches you.

Emboldened either by the fact that he looks soft enough that you want to burrow into his chest and never leave or the alcohol one, what instead comes out of your mouth is a timid, “If you’re so tired, why don’t you stay?”

“BB-8 might get jealous if I spend the night with someone else.”

You exhale a laugh, sitting up to cup Poe’s cheek with your hand. “Nah, your droid loves me. He’ll understand.” 

Poe smiles softly, turning his head to press a kiss to your palm. “Koya fruit doesn’t fall far from the tree.”

[supernovafeather]

In The Beast's Guts (Part 1) (18+)

FO!Poe Dameron x F!Resistance!Reader

Warning : Public humiliation, language, mention of war, death, urine, mention of torture, enemies.

"Oh. Because you complain about the cold now ?" This soft and threatening voice whispers to your ear. "Do you know how cold were my Stormtroopers when you took their ship down ? Do you know how painful it is to die from drowning with snow and icy water in your lungs ?"

Fully tense, your breath stuck in your throat, the taste of blood still clear in your mouth, you try not to give away your distress. Your eyes are burning as you keep staring at the wall in front of you. A gray one, so unpersonal in this vast First Order warship, so anonymous and swallowed whole by the General's presence. The famous General Poe Dameron himself that made his duty to catch you, making you the temporary public enemy number one in this part of the galaxy. But you are no Leia Organa, and got trapped after barely a month. You ended up here, getting interrogated over and over, an eye swollen due to the kicks that marked your face. Kneeling on the ground because your feet can't carry you anymore, your head stays straight merely thanks to this hand that grabbed your hair so harshly.

"I am not complaining about the cold." You whisper in a breathless voice.

The General chuckles briefly as he takes a look at your damaged face. Behind this amused angelic visage you notice this raw hatred for you. You can only hope he won't add the one he holds against the Resistance against you and you only.

He releases your head and your forehead almost hits his shoulder, its weight unbearable for your weakened body. The General's uniform remains clean there though as he takes a firm grip on your chin, forcing you to witness his sharp jaws clenching as he keeps smiling.

"Take a breath beautiful." He murmurs as his bare hand caresses your cheek. "Please do. I need to understand what you are telling me."

"I am not complaining about the cold." You stutter as for the first time you look away from him during a direct confrontation. "I am not."

"Feeling anxious my little Rebel ?" He asks in this sweet voice your heartbeat skyrockets when you feel the warmth of his palm on your nape. "Don't. Please don't. I have to make you understand a few important things. First of all, don't make me your enemy. But it's too late for that. Second one, you were complaining about cold - I insist on complaining like a spoiled child - whereas I had the decency to bring you water. Do you know how rude of you it is ?"

His face comes closer, his teeth now uncovered as his smiles turns in a hateful grimace, his eyebrows frowning, his grip on the bottom of your head tightening so much that you follow the shaky movements of his own body as he boils inside.

"You Rebels, and your kriffing stupid pride. Little liars as well. Do you know you are nothing like nice guys ? Because yes, you do love calling yourself like that, trying to mold the universe in your own vision, then calling us out because we have a different one, then kriffing daring to complain when facing the consequences."

He is hurting you as he forces you to get closer brutally enough for you to lose your balance, your hand grabbing his chest as your knees almost fail you. His dark eyes are a couple of black holes and you don't know which one is about to engulf you as you look at one of them at a time. General Dameron smells like sweat. Like your blood soaking the front of his black top. Like this fruit he ate in front of you as your stomach started to grumble loudly after your third day stuck there.

The moment you release your hot and shaky breath is when he pushes you back hard enough to make you fall on the ground as he stands up. Now you breath in and breath out, like your chest got released from an invisible rope that was compressing it. You feel knocked out, listening to your whistling inhales as you stare at the ceiling. Actually you are cold. Your tank top and pants are not enough.

"How pathetic you are without your pilot outfits." He chuckles as he walks closer, his boots right between your spread legs now. "Look at you Commander. Look at you. Are you still one, even ? They certainly think you dead. In a way, you already are. After all this is what happened to your pride and honor. Weren't you the one claiming you would keep staring at me no matter what ? Is this ceiling more interesting than me ?"

"You don't deserve my attention." You stutter between your clenched teeth as he walks away from you.

This fake excuse is dumb you think as this time you find the strength to look at his back now that he is on the other side of the room, taking a bottle from the table surrounded by two Stormtroopers. He turns around, his face now looking like angelic again. But his eyes... they don't change. They keep staring down at your soul even as he takes a long sip of this clear water. Several seconds, his black curls sticking to his forehead after mistreating you for so long. His Adam's apple is bobbing up and down. He is fit for a General. He is clearly the kind according some importance to his appearance and physical training. He wants to get control over every aspect of his life. He didn't like that you led a whole battalion of his men to its death. You are an abnormality in his equation. Maybe you would have had a better chance of survival if you defied the right General, one not caring much about his responsibilities but more about his living conditions and not the results. Sadly, you crossed the path of one of the most loyals.

"I'm a bit sad, where is the hot-headed Commander ?" He whimpers with disdain. "Where is she ? Where is the one who got real things to say ? Don't tell me you're already yielding. I can't believe it."

"You're being the kriffing moody child there !" You snarl as this shot of adrenaline and rage has you sitting on the ground, his satisfied grin fuelling your disgust. "I DON'T REGRET ANYTHING DO YOU HEAR ME ?"

"I do so thank you now you can shut up." He says as he throws the bottle at your head before it bounces on the ground as you groan. "Cold is making you act unreasonably. Hunger too. There is a difference between the way you do things normally. Let me tell you that -"

"I'M NOT KRIFFING COLD NOW SHUT YOUR STUPID MOUTH !" You lie at the top of your weakened lungs as you try to prevent the next wave of goosebumps from running down your back. "KILL ME IF YOU WANT TO !"

"So as I was saying you are acting dumb right now. I'm getting bored. And-"

This time he's interrupted by the loud growls coming down from your stomach. It barely attacts his eyes. He looks more annoyed by the interruption itself. At least he doesn't notice the way you close your thighs. You have to go to the bathroom. You have to, soon. It's starting to hurt and the cold only makes it worse.

"-and I forgot what I was saying. Great." He says as he runs his fingers through his curls in a frustrated gesture.

"You are the worse piece of shit I've ever seen."

"I beg your pardon ?" He asks and blinks in incredulity blended with offense. "You're still alive, our Supreme Leader didn't Force-choked you, you got water. I am a man of honor who could have taken advantage of you in many ways yet didn't. We could have been more brutal than that."

"Kill me."

This time you are asking for it, your body going limp as you lie down on the ground. Everything hurts. From your poor bladder to the areas that got kicked, and your ego. This asshole is right when he says they could have been worse than that to you, but you are convinced it's because they need you alive and not completely broken. They only need you tired enough to give away some precious info. But to be realistic... you are deep in the guts of this metallic monster itself dwelling hundreds of smaller ships.

"No. Only in a fight. You deserve a bit better than that." He says in a bored voice as he comes closer. "Turn around. I'll warm you up a bit."

Panic awakens some of your nerves and you look at the Stormtroopers behind him. Themselves move their helmets a bit to look at each other with hesitancy, unsure of what's going to happen. You crawl back on your buttocks slowly as the General stands there, his face now unreadable. No way you obey to that kind of order. No way you turn your back to your opponent if you're not able to turn it against him. No kriffing way. Him ? A man of honor he said ?

"What ?" You ask as this time you control the rate of aggressiveness in your voice not to make it go downhill even more.

"I can warm you up. Just offering some help." He says.

You notice that smug grin of his appearing for a split second.

"Never."

His face grows amused.

"Turn around." He now orders.

You won't, as your breath quickens. Maybe collaboration is the best solution but as he said your damn Rebel honor is stronger this time. This man is just another First Order scum, ready to everything to get things going the way he wants. He wants to take advantage of you ? Of course he wanted too. Of course his excuse of dignity earlier was bullshit. Just a liar wanting to fold you into the shape he desires. You may be sending him the darkest glare you can with your only functioning eye, but it doesn't do much.

"Turn. Around."

This time he is less patient. Amusement disappeared fully from his features. You notice an uncomfortable movement from the Stormtrooper on the right behind him, just a shoulder rolling. But after all what are your options there ? Maybe it would be better to... accept ? Just to manipulate him as much as you can. Make him think he can break you. Make him think he's stronger than you. Make him think he can win.

The cold and this new anxiety you are trying to tame as it crawls under your skin are unbearable. The General is coming closer, his footsteps slow as he stares at you, his thumbs now sliding discreetly under his belt.

You do. You turn around, jaws clenching as your sore body now faces another grey wall. He stops somewhere behind, and you close your eye at the metallic sound and as the fabrics slides down his flesh. The lump in your throat tightens even more as his hands now take your hair firmly, rolling it into a bun as you don't protest at all despite the slight pain. Then he releases it. Maybe if you do it it will protect you. Give you more chances to go back to Leia and the others.

Your eye shots open and you start struggling to stand up at the warmth spreading on your back, sliding from your nape down to underneath your top, running down your back as the General sighs in relief.

"Stay still." He groans before grabbing the top of your head, pressing it enough to force you to remain kneeling back at him. "Stay kriffing still."

The smell of his urine is not strong enough to make you gag, too diluted by all the water he had drank while interrogating you. There is this sticky sensation as you feel the pressure now targeting the middle of your back. The wet sound and this new warmth soaking your clothes combined relaxes your own bladder, your eyes opening in horror as the area between your thighs gets flooded in your own fluids, this time smelly due to your dehydration. Yours is almost burning your skin as the grip on your hair tightens, the General pulling your head back to stare down at you with a serious face. The dark bags under his eyes are more visible under this angle. His sharp jaw as well. This natural authority emanating from his stance too.

"Join us and you get access to a shower and a bed. Don't, and die there in your own piss and forgotten by everyone."

You open your mouth, ready to snap back at this asshole after what he's just done. But can you really struggle indefinitely against your survival instinct whispering you to get what he can offer ? At least your X-Wing in a battle gives you a fake sense of power and you don't have the time to see death coming to you. An explosion wouldn't make it painful for long. But between the General's hands ? Between his men's, so deep in the guts of this all-mighty spaceship bigger than some moons of this galaxy ? Then this voice comes back to you, more vicious.

Why wouldn't you infiltrate them ? Making yourself a parasitic presence among them. Grow stronger under their protection. Keeping your enemies close is one of the best strategies when you know how to use it properly. After all wearing their uniform is nothing if you don't let them melting to your skin.

"I accept."

The firm slap on your cheek get you falling to the ground, now soaked in the mix of your urines, your hair bathed in it.

"Liar. I know that gaze. You start tomorrow morning. Not as a Commander, I hope you understand. I still have to think about it."

Soon, the man turns around sharply, washing his hands with some water before putting his long black coat back on, staring at you with a stern gaze. He doesn't look amused at seeing you in such a pathetic position. He doesn't look like he cares at all, like it's normal to him to express his disdain like this.

"Please ma'am." He starts with a smug grin as he adjusts his collar. "Stop glaring at me like that. It's not a way to address your superior."

"That's what you think." You spit before you can stop yourself.

Shut up you think as you keep this eye contact with him. Dameron just chuckled before leaving the room. Briefly. Is it bad ? Certainly. The two Stormtroopers get closer, a sigh muffled from one of their helmets as they try to drag you by an unsoiled spot of your outfits.

[carry-on-wayward-daughter]

I Love You (Poe dameron x reader)

It wasn't that you weren't important. You were, to the very being of your core. You were smart, politically sound, motivational, and adequately skilled in just about everything, even though you fell short when it came to flying. You were also quite shy and awkward, so you didn't have much in the way of friends, besides Poe. It was just that, at the time, there were not enough resources to mount a rescue mission on Starkiller Base. It was too risky at the time of your capture. Poe was the most angry about it. Everyone at the base knew how he felt about you, and never tried to start an argument with him every time that you were mentioned. Poe was fuming and brimming with anger through all of the negotiations that had been about your liberation. It was at least two months before General Organa finally greenlit a stealthy rescue mission. Poe, obviously, was the first to volunteer. You could have been dead, but even with the slim chance of you being alive, Poe took that chance without thought. When Poe and his team finally located you, they were quick to get you out. It was in and out of the base, no questions asked, and thankfully no tripped alarms. You were passed out, bloody, beaten, and possibly half dead. Once one of the teammates check your pulse, Poe sighed in relief. Poe was thankful that they had gotten to you when they did. It was obvious you had been tortured in order for either the map to Skywalker or for the Resistance's base. There had been no attacks on the Resistance, so you hadn't given in. When the small squadron returned to the base and Poe brought you down from the ship in his arms, you were immediately taken to the mediroom. Poe was told there wouldn't be any visitors for at least a week, but, every day without fail Poe would stand sit by the door of your room and talk as if you were listening. Poe's comfort was knowing that you were here, alive and recovering. Even if he couldn't see you, Poe knew that one day you would return to your normal self - shy, but optimistic and honestly quite adorable. Some days he wasn't even allowed to sit at his spot by the door, as you often woke up screaming and were still going through delusions that you were still in captivity. Poe felt guilty for not going in sooner, and loathed himself for obeying orders. Poe did his best to never regret anything that he had done in his life, but he regretted not saving you. One day, in the dark of night, Poe had snuck into the mediroom while the nurses were in the midst of changing shifts. He quickly sifted through every member's file until he reached yours. Quickly taking one of the copies of your medical report from your folder, he folded it up and stuck it in his pocket. After returning to his bunk Poe read the report with a flashlight. What he saw was horrifying. Broken ribs, partial (but healable) brain damage, fractured right wrist, broken cheekbone, dislocated jaw, burn wounds, abdominal bruising, ruptured liver, welts caused by metal, choking sensations (ongoing), delusions (ongoing), and clear signs of consistent sexual assault. After which, he stopped reading. He would surely get revenge on anyone who even had the thought of doing this to you. Poe didn't sleep one wink that night, going back and forth with the decision to carry out destroying Starkiller Base by himself. ~~ Two weeks later, visitation was finally greenlit. Even though you were constantly asleep due to your medication, Poe visited you anyway. He held your hand and told you stories, even the cheesy ones he always told you during dinner breaks. He told you that he finally learned how to make flower crowns, (you made tons of them for him on any free days you had, but he never seemed to be able to make one himself), and how dull the whole base was without you there. He told you that he still couldn't remember parts of that one song you always used to sing; the one you he always caught you singing when you thought you were alone. Nurses would often find Poe asleep with his head resting on the edge of your cot, still holding your hand. Even though visitation hours had ended a long time ago, they let this be an exception. Everyone thought your relationship was so cute and charming, even General Organa had her hand in meddling. Poe was head over heels for you, and you were completely oblivious to it. Every morning, when Poe awoke, he always seemed to think that he felt your hand run through his hair. He remembered when you used to ruffle his hair and mess it up, even though he never really knew your motivations behind it. Poe had come to love when you ruffled his hair; even if people laughed at him for having a messy visage. Today especially was a day when Poe was certain he felt it again; you gently running your fingers through his hair for nearly hours on end. Poe felt a pang of disappointment in his chest as he rose from slumber only to see that your eyes were still shut. "It's been a couple weeks, and... I know you might still be asleep, but I think I remember most of that song I always hear you sing. I have it written down, but I think I can hum the parts that I haven't caught on to yet." "(Humming the tune to Skidamarink" (AN: Link is in the description to the song)) "I love you... I love you in the morning and in the afternoon.... I love you in the evening underneath the moon... (Humming) I love you in the morning I love you in the night, I love you in the evening when the stars are shining bright..." "You should sing it more... it just sounds cheesy when I do it. Y/N... if only you were awake. I can already imagine you laughing at me. Which I really have no problem with..." For seemingly the fourth day in a row, Poe spent nearly his entire day with you, falling asleep with his head on the cot once again. On the fifth day, Poe woke up to humming. It was the same tune he thought was cheesy but charming, and immediately smiled. Your hand was tangled in his hair, gently curling strands of his hair with your fingers. When Poe lifted his head, your beautiful eyes met his. You had finally awoken, much to Poe's delight. "You're awake..." he said, almost in awe. "Thank you for coming back for me..." you say, resting your hand back on the cot. "I also heard you'd been visiting non-stop... am I really that much of a good friend to you?" you ask, smiling brightly. Poe shook his head. "No... not a friend. Y/N, I love you. I always have, and I'll be forever thankful that you're here and alive. You're the light of my life, and you're the reason why I get into that X-Wing. You're the reason I fight." Poe took you hand, eying you hopefully. You returned the smile with your own grin. "I love you too, Poe. You were what kept me going through....." you pause for a moment, gulping at the thought. "All I wanted was for you to be safe. I couldn't wait to hear your voice again, to laugh at your jokes and to hear those crazy stories I swear you make up. You're everything to me. You always have been. Poe Dameron... I love you."

[spicymayo1983]

Hiya. So this is part 3. Your illicit relationship with Poe continues despite the fact that both of you are starting to feel that it's wrong.

Someone is going to get hurt, and you have a terrible feeling that it will be you.

Warnings, angst! You are cheating on your significant other! (Please don't do that!) Hints of smut, age difference (nothing illegal you are in your mid 20's) Not for anyone under 18.

In a perfect galaxy this would all work out and everyone would be happy. What exactly is "perfect?" You think bitterly to yourself.

Sadly real life isn't perfect, far from it. Your relationship with Poe would have been great if you weren't both set in your ways.

Despite his youthful, virile visage Poe Dameron feels like he's getting old.

He wants to marry his soul mate, settle down and have a family very soon.

Before I'm either too old to play with them or too dead, Poe used to joke with a rakish grin on his face.

The life of an X wing pilot, especially that of the leader of the black squadron, is dangerous, and that's putting it mildly.

Despite the fact that he was kidding you could hear the seriousness in his voice and see it in his eyes.

You, on the other hand, are young (12 years younger than him to be exact) and your gut is telling you that marrying young and having kids would be a mistake.

But at the same time you understand his struggle and where he's coming from. Even though you don't share his sentiment you realize that being a husband and father is Poe's dream, and it's selfish and cruel to be with someone to crush their dreams.

You loved him so much that you let him go. But now you regret that decision but at the same time you don't want to compromise your beliefs and what you want.

And then there's your girlfriend, beautiful, whip smart Anakari. The woman that could put an X wing back together blindfolded. She's three years your junior and a master mechanic, she's even worked on the black leader's beloved craft from time to time.

The woman adores you. Her smile and kisses could make your terrible day wonderful again.

Anyone would be lucky to have someone like her in their life.

And you're doing this to her, you think bitterly.

"Babe, what's wrong? You look upset".

It's a late Friday night and you once again find yourself in Poe's bed. Instead of basking in the afterglow of the moment you are having trouble relaxing.

You've been intimate with him again, twice already and the night is still somewhat young. He isn't done with you, in fact he's just warming up.

Your body is in a state of deep relaxation from the pleasurable sensations that you've experienced. Your mind, though, is wandering.

Poe can see this, and it's upsetting to him.

With a deep sigh you roll over on your side, facing away from him. He wraps his strong arms around you and holds you tight.

"I love you, y/n". Poe confesses, kissing you softly. "I don't think you understand that at times, it broke my heart when you said no when I proposed".

His candid words sent a knife right through your heart.

He still loved you, the words came right out of his mouth.

Poe wanted to marry you, wanted you to be the mother of his children, but you weren't ready for that.

The way he looked at you and the way he touched you told you that, there was noone else in the galaxy that he wanted to be with.

But in order for things to work someone would have to make a sacrifice.

"Poe, I'm not ready to be a wife and a mother, I've said this all before". You explain with a deep sigh. "I love you too, but I'm just not ready".

"I'm willing to compromise". Poe explains with a weak smile. "But what about your girlfriend?"

"I can't let you do that". You reply quickly, sitting up quickly. "It's your dream to be a father, to be honest I'm not sure if I ever want to have children".

"I don't know how I could live my life without you being a major part of it". He confesses, sitting up, his eyes red from tears. "You have my whole heart, I've never loved anyone before like this".

The two of you share another one of those passionate kisses that feel forbidden. You look deeply into his gorgeous eyes and you are lost, you've never been near someone as beautiful, inside and out, as him.

Everything about him is attractive, down to his hands and feet. Poe was like a living, breathing sculpture, just pure perfection.

But he was also a human being with complex emotions. At times you felt like you were leading him along, keeping him from fully realizing his dreams because you wanted to keep using his body for your own pleasure.

"Poe, we can't continue doing this". You confess, holding your head in your hands as you start to cry. "I'm holding you back from what you really want in life and we both know this".

"Please, I can compromise". Poe begged as he leaned over and kissed you again. "Don't do this, I love you and will always love you".

You get out of bed and start to get dressed. Before you leave you take one last look at him and say,

"I love you too, that's why I'm doing this".

Five years later

You hadn't talked to him since that fateful day but you heard that eventually Poe had reconnected with his first love, Zorii Bliss, had a whirlwind romance, got married and had two kids close together with a third on the way.

He was now in his early 40's. His beautiful hair was a salt and pepper gray. Poe looked relaxed, happy and fulfilled in life and deeply in love with Zorii.

Zorii was a passionate and tough woman. In your opinion Poe needed someone like that in his life.

His two beautiful little boys were his world. He looked softer, happier and much more relaxed because of them.

They were adorable with curly reddish brown hair, their father's dark eyes and tan skin.

Your girlfriend is now your wife. You confessed everything to her and she forgave you. The two of you are not only spouses but best friends. You are enjoying your blissful, child free life.

You are happy, extremely happy, but you can't help but wonder if Poe still thinks of you and those lust filled days and nights that you spent together.

The four of you agree to go out on a double date together. Poe wants you to meet his wife.

Zorii is about 7 months along with a little girl. It was going to be their last child. His family was complete and he was happy, so happy, you could see it in his eyes and smile.

You couldn't help but feel slight pangs of jealousy when you see Poe kiss his wife and remember that was once you.

The feelings soon fade when you see how good she is to him, and how happy they genuinely are.

Zorii and Anakari go off by themselves to chat, leaving just you and Poe together alone.

At first the silence is awkward, almost painful. You can't even look at him at first.

"You were right, y/n, I'm happy". Poe confesses, a strained smile appearing on his face. "My boys are my world, and we're finally having a little girl".

"Congratulations". You tell him, smiling weakly and leaning over to gently touch his hand. "Zorii is a wonderful woman, I'm happy for you, seriously".

"Zorii keeps me in line, and I think I need that". Poe tells you, laughing a little. "Ana is a special woman too, brilliant and beautiful, you're so lucky".

"I still love you, and I will always love you until the end of time". Poe continues, looking down a little. "But we had different goals in life, my kids are my world and I can't imagine them not being here".

"I still love you too". You confess, the tears streaming down your face. "But we weren't meant to be, at least not in this lifetime".

The end

[mattmurdocksscars]

Miscommunication Ch. 9

I am so so sorry that I got so behind on this. But hopefully this chapter makes up for it. You got some smut and a cliffhanger 😈

Word Count: 2069

Warnings: Language, smut, 18+

Pairing: First Order!Poe x Fem!Reader 

Tag List:  @himbopoes​, @writefightandflightclub​, @mellow-f1​, @imaginecrushes​, @ladyflyer20​, @kiaralein​, @oakleyves, @nacida-en-la-luna​, @morgannope​​ @thegirlwiththebook​ @twomoonstwosuns @awesomefandomsunited @thesoftdumbass @kittyofalltrades​ @struggling-bee​ @amarvelousmandalorian @seeking-a-great--perhaps @sheerfreesia007 @firstordermariposa @darksideofclarke @damndamer0n

{Prev Chap.} {Chap. 1}

Your life settles into an interesting routine as the next few weeks pass. Kylo and Hux are still having their dispute and you and Dameron watch it all in amusement. Hux attempted to force Dameron to stop spending time with you and the Captain had merely laughed in his General’s face. Kylo was still convinced that Hux was the one who had been sabotaging your missions, but you actually disagreed. Hux was a weasel but this didn’t fit him at all. Plus, you’d saved the ginger haired man a few times and you knew that he wasn’t liable to forget. Still, Kylo essentially grounded you to be safe and so your days were spent in your office.

Your nights, however, were spent in either yours or Dameron’s room. You were still trying to get used to not only being wanted by someone, but also by someone who enjoyed being seen with you. Dameron had no qualms with people seeing the two of you together and greatly enjoyed your shock when he displayed affection in public. The first time he had smacked your ass in the hallways, you had whipped around, ready to chew someone out, only to find Poe looking at you with a smirk. He had immediately pulled you back against him, mouth to your ear, and quietly whispered everything he planned to do to you that night. While you normally didn’t blush easily, you were red faced when he slipped away from you, disappearing down the hall. You’d thought about it all day and by the time he showed up in your room that night, you had practically jumped him. You hadn’t been able to walk straight the next day, but there were definitely no complaints from you.

It quickly turned into a game. Who could rile the other up more? Dameron was very good at getting you going, but you were better. The man was always ready to go as it was and your teasing just cranked his libido up to eleven. It was intoxicating to be so wanted by someone and while you would never admit it, you were quickly falling for the Captain. Getting to spend so much time with him was certainly accelerating the process and when Kylo finally pulls you aside to give you a mission, you nearly jump at the chance. Taking some time away may do you some good. The insecure part of you was worried that if Dameron wasn’t around you constantly, he would lose interest but you would rather find that out now, rather than later. So, you immediately accepted the mission, listening as Kylo explained it to you and reminded you to be extra cautious. He wanted you to leave as soon as you’d had a chance to look over the information on your datapad, so you left his office and headed for yours.

You were almost back to your office when you passed by Dameron’s. You paused outside the door and considered going on. So far, you had yet to enter his office, not having a reason to. Yet, with how soon you would have to leave, you wanted to at least let him know. You hesitated a moment before stepping up the door and knocking. A sharp come in was called and you couldn’t help the slight smirk that rose. He sounded like he was in a bad mood, but you had a feeling you would be able to change that.

The door opened with a snick and you stepped through. Dameron never looked up as you entered, likely thinking you were one of the troopers or a pilot which gave you a minute to look him over. His dark hair was mussed, as if he’d been running his hands through it repeatedly. A sure sign he was stressed, and you wondered if telling him you were leaving for a bit would really be a good idea. Leaving without saying anything wasn’t an option though, so you quietly cleared your throat to gain his attention. His head immediately snapped up, annoyance on his face, before he realized it was you. Immediately, most of the stress left his visage and his gaze changed to curiosity.

“What are you doing here, sweetness?” You smile and walk to stand across the desk from him.

“It would appear Kylo is releasing me back into the galaxy. He’s got a mission for me and I leave as soon as I’m prepped.” You told him. As you thought, his brow furrowed and his jaw set at the news. With a soft sigh, you rounded the desk and brought yourself in between him and the desk, leaning back on it. It forced him to look up at you and you reached a hand forward to carefully smooth out his furrowed brow. You cupped his face with your hand, and he leaned slightly into the touch, just watching you. He would never even consider asking you not to go but you knew he didn’t like the thought that there was still someone out there sabotaging your missions.

“How long will you be gone?” You trace a finger over his lips and his tongue darts out to taste your skin. Both of your gazes darken, and you find yourself grateful that you have no set time to leave.

“Hopefully, no more than a few days. Think you can survive that long without me, love?” He rolled his eyes at your teasing and you laughed. In one swift movement, he stands. His form crowds you against the desk, his hands settling on your hips. Dark eyes search your face for a moment before he leans in, kissing you deeply. You return it with equal enthusiasm, one of your hands tugging on the curls at his nape. He groans, pulling away with a nip to your bottom lip.

“How long until you leave?” You smirk, leaning up to kiss and suck at his neck. He hisses, his grip tightening on your hips.

“Long enough.” That’s all he needs to hear, and he lifts you with ease, settling you on his desk. He nudges your knees apart and nestles into the juncture of your thighs. He kisses you again, his hands flying to your clothes. He undresses you easily, your shirt and bra being whipped off quickly. He takes your pants and underwear off in one go, kneeling between your legs and pressing open-mouthed kisses to your thighs. Your breath hitches as he brings his mouth to your core, licking a solid stripe up your folds before circling your clit. Your eyes slide close at his ministrations, but he immediately stops, tutting at you.

“You know the rules, sweetness.” You whine but force your eyes to open. As soon as your gaze is back on him, Poe dives back in. His tongue delves into your heat and he brings a hand up so he can circle your clit with his thumb. You’re practically begging for your release as he winds you higher and higher, but he pulls away just before you tumble over.

“Poeeee.” You whine but he just grins, pressing a kiss to your thigh before standing back up.

“You’re about to be gone for at least a few days, sweetness. The only way you’re cumming is on my cock.” His hands move to undo his belt, his eyes raking over your figure. “Bend over the desk, sweetness.”

A slow smirk rises at his demand and you eagerly slip off the desk, doing as told. You hear his belt jangle as he undoes it and you bite your lip in anticipation. There’s something so heady about being completely bare to him and you moan when he nestles against you, the head of his cock pressing against you. You wiggle your hips, but he lands a smart smack to your ass.

“Be still, baby girl.” You pout, even though he can’t see it, but cease your movements. You’re rewarded by him sliding into your cunt, Poe not stopping until he’s fully seated in you. He holds there, groaning out an expletive and brings a hand to grasp the back of your neck. His fingers flex against your skin and you whimper.

“Poe, please. Please move, Sir.” At the title, he pulls out and thrusts roughly back into you. He sets a brutal pace against you, almost fucking you through the desk. There will be bruises on your hips from where they’re being pressed into the wood, but you can’t find it in you to care. Poe’s hand slips from the back of your neck around to the front and he applies enough pressure to limit your air supply. You manage a moan at his actions, and you hear him groan as your pussy flutters around him.

“Fuck, baby girl. Gonna fuck you so good that you feel me the whole time you’re gone.” You’re careening towards your climax and it takes everything to stave it off.

“Please can I- fuck, can I cum, Sir?”

“No, baby, not yet. You can wait on me, can’t you, sweetness?” You sob at his words but nod. “Good girl. Just a bit more.”

He gets in a few more thrusts before he suddenly pulls out and you whimper at the loss. He pulls you up, turns you, and sets you down on his desk. He brings a hand up to cup your face as he slides back in and he slips his thumb into your mouth when it falls open. Through lidded eyes you watch him, sucking on his thumb and pulling a groan from the man. He looks unhinged as he returns to fucking you, his free hand gripping tightly to your hip.

“Wanna see your pretty face when you cum, sweetness.” He pulls his thumb from your mouth and brings it down to circle your clit. “Tell me who this pussy belongs to, sweetness.”

“You, Sir. It belongs to you.” Poe surges forward, kissing you before pulling away with a bite to your bottom lip.

“Then cum, sweetness.” His words are like pulling the pin from a grenade, your orgasm exploding through you. He barely manages a couple more thrusts before he’s also cumming, spilling deep in your cunt. The both of you groan, Poe’s head falling to rest on your shoulder. He keeps himself buried in you as you both come down from your highs. If this is that last time he’s going to have you for a few days, he wants to feel you for as long as he can.

As you regain your breath, you bring a hand up to bury in his hair, massaging his scalp. He sighs at the action, relaxing against you, and you can’t help but to smile. It’s amazing to you how integral this man has become in your life over such a short time, but you wouldn’t change it for anything. The two of you cling to each other for several minutes until you finally press a kiss to the side of Poe’s head. You both hiss as he pulls out of you and you immediately feel empty at his loss. You force the feeling down and hop off the desk, Poe helping you dress quickly before fixing himself.

You bring your hands up to cup his face and kiss him quickly. His hands grasp your wrists and he holds you to him for a few moments longer before releasing you.

“You better come back in one piece, sweetness.” You can hear the underlying note of concern in his voice, though his tone is teasing. You smirk and throw a wink his way before heading out the door.

“Of course, love. I’ll see you soon.” You leave his office and head for your room, grabbing your go bag. You take one glance around the room before heading to the hangar, boarding your ship, and taking off. You punch in the coordinates and guide your ship from the hangar, entering hyperspace as soon as you’re able. You settle into your chair with your datapad, going over the information Kylo had given you. The mission seemed to be straight forward, and you were hoping it would be over soon. You would still take Kylo’s advice and stay vigilant, not knowing if there was still someone sabotaging your missions. You would take every precaution you could and make sure to get in and out as quickly as possible.

Unfortunately, it wouldn’t be enough.