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lovelettersforthedamned · 8 months ago

Note

Congrats on 400 followers!

I don't know if I can request two prompts, but could you write "they know about this. about us." and "your morning voice is so hot." "what?" with Poe? Pls make it smutty

Honey

✮ poe dameron x f!reader

✮ word count: 1.4k

✮ summary: A day off with Poe is rare, so might as well start it off right.

✮ warnings: fluff, smut, MINORS DNI, 18+, thigh riding, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, lowkey a situationship lolz.

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

main m.list ⋆ poe dameron m.list ⋆ four-hundred follower bash

not my gif. credit to the owner.

Having a day off was a rarity, but having a day off the same day as Poe? That was nearly impossible.

You and Poe have been sneaking around for a while. The thought of everyone knowing about your business with the Resistance’s poster boy gave you a headache. Whatever was going on between you two was good with the both of you, and you’d like to keep it that way.

Your sleep schedule was jumbled, from hours spent late in the night to early mornings, you were swamped. And though you wanted to sleep in, your body’s natural alarm decided to wake you as the sun rose. Cursing to yourself, you turn to Poe, sleeping soundly in your bed.

He’s lying on his stomach, and his arm draped over your waist as his curls sprawled over your pillow. His grip on you tightened as you moved closer to him, the heat of his skin radiating, causing you to curl up next to him.

Your eyes grew heavy. Poe’s soft breaths act as a lullaby until your holopad wrung. The blasting sound of the incoming call woke you both. You stumble to the bedside desk, fixing your appearance, not bothering to check who it is before answering.

Rose’s face appears and you turn to make sure Poe isn’t in view before turning back around, “Hey, Rose! Is there something wrong?” A bright big smile is plastered on your face, an obvious cover for your true state.

Her eyebrows furrow. “No,” she starts, “I was just wondering if you’ve seen Poe? He was supposed to send me the report for the new pilot.”

Poe was fully awake at this point, and you looked in the corner of your eye to see him looking at you. He shrugs and mouths “day off”. You hold back a laugh before turning back to Rose, “If I see him I will let him know.”

“Mhm…,” her words drag out as she puts the pieces together. “Poe! I expect that report in my hands first thing tomorrow morning,” she speaks louder to make sure he can hear from your bed behind you.

Your eyes widen. “Yep,” Poe calls out.

“Enjoy your day off, (Y/N),” she says before ending the call.

The moment you put down the holopad, your eyes are trained on Poe, worry and anger flooding through your veins. His arms are open, welcoming you back into his hold. You waste no time before settling in the sheets, nuzzling against Poe’s chest.

You break the comfortable silence, “They know about this. About us.”

“Only Rose does,” Poe mutters, his voice still raspy from sleep. He’s always been the person to try and ease your worries, but with this, he knows he won’t succeed.

“If Rose knows,” you turn to face him, “then everyone does.”

He laughs. He knows that your worrying isn’t funny, but he can’t help but laugh. You playfully smack his arm and try to move away from him, but his hold is too strong. “No, wait,” he says between giggles, “you look cute when you’re worried over things that don’t matter.”

“But this does matter, Poe–,” you’re cut off by a small kiss.

Poe’s hand is holding the side of your face, his thumb stroking back and forth as he looks at your features. “Your morning voice is so hot,” he whispers.

Your face scrunches in confusion, “What?”

Poe doesn’t even respond to your question, he dives in for another kiss. But this time, he fully pulls you in, the kiss is messy and desperate. Although you two spent the night entangled in each other’s arms, you couldn’t get enough of him.

You’re both naked from the night before, the heat from your skin makes it almost uncomfortable under the covers. Poe must have thought the same when he threw it off, the fabric lying on the floor. You giggle at his actions, the cold air shocks your system.

Poe pulls away panting, “Get on top of me.” His voice was soft but demanding. The lust in his eyes was entrancing, and along with the rasp in his voice, you were trapped.

You sit up and swing your leg over his waist before lining yourself with his hard cock. You were just about to lower yourself before he grabbed your waist, stopping you. Looking up, you’re confused. Isn’t this what we wanted?

He must have seen the confusion written across your face because he laughs before speaking. “Sorry, I should’ve been more specific,” he starts, a slight blush rising to his cheeks. His hands on your waist have subconsciously started stroking the skin there, “Ride my thigh, (Y/N).”

“Oh,” you perk up at his request. You back down to his thigh, place your wet core onto him, and start grinding.

With the way you’re moving, the friction on your clit is perfect, causing you to throw your head back and let out a dangerously loud moan. The walls on the base have always been thin, and you knew that, but you didn’t care, especially when Poe’s looking at you like you’re the only person in the galaxy.

His cock is resting on the outside of your thigh, the tip leaking with precum. Your hands were once placed on Poe’s chest, but now one of them is holding his hand to your hip and the other is jerking him off.

Poe’s body tenses at the sudden stimulation before he lets out a low groan. The sound of his pleasure urges you to keep going. You move your hips faster as you tighten your fist around the tip of his cock. “You’re gonna be the death of me, honey,” he slurs.

You take a mental note of the new name he used for you, storing it in the back of your mind.

Your legs are shaking and tired, but you’d be an idiot to stop now, especially when you’re this close. Momentarily pausing your movements, you lean down to give Poe a quick kiss, “You wish.”

Leaning back up, you can feel the coil in your stomach edge its way closer to the tipping point of pleasure. The grip on your hips tightened catching your attention and making you look at the desperate man below you. “You’re right there,” he kneads at the skin there, “I can feel it.” You nod, unable to form a coherent sentence. “Cum for me. Please, I need it,” he tenses his thigh, the muscles now acting as more stimulation for your aching clit.

With this new angle, you cum instantly. The sight of you coming undone causes Poe to cum with you. Your hand is a mess. Your fist is covered with ropes of cum, the warm liquid running down your fingers.

As you come down, you collapse onto Poe’s chest. You’ve both made a mess, you could feel it. Your inner thighs are sticky and uncomfortably wet, causing you to try and dismount yourself off of his thigh. But with shaky legs, you fail. You barely raise your leg a few inches before the muscles shake, causing it to collapse back into the sticky mess.

Poe notices your discomfort and quickly flips you so that you’re the one lying on the bed. He presses a delicate kiss to your forehead before whispering, “I’ll be right back.” Your eyes are closed as you nod.

You can hear the sink running from the refresher before a warm cloth is placed on your core. Your eyes widen at the feeling, before relaxing at the sight before you. Poe is cleaning you up with such care. He wipes away all remnants of pleasure and triple-checks that he got everything before he even thinks to clean himself up.

You grin at the gesture. When Poe tosses the cloth in the hamper, he returns to you. Laying on top of your naked frame, his curls tickle your chin. “You’re a real gentleman, Dameron,” you mumble into the crown of his head.

His arms tighten around you, “Only for you though.”

“Oh yeah?” You start, “Why’s that?”

He takes a deep breath before sinking further into your hold, “Good night, (Y/L/N).”

“The day just started. You have all day to explain what you meant by that, and the ‘you’re gonna be the death of me, honey’,” you lower your voice to mimic his, eliciting a laugh from Poe.

He lifts his head and pauses before pressing a warm kiss to your lips. “Patience is key,” he whispers before laying his head back down on your naked chest, “...honey.”

✮ author's note: i love poe dameron smut!! thank you anon :) come join us in my bash!! we can't wait to see you!!! don't forget to like, comment, and reblog to support me and my work. ok, bye ily

#poe dameron smut #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron #star wars #fluff #smut #llftd 400 follower bash

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im-poe-dameron · 11 months ago

Text

THE HEART OF A SHIP

a/n: this fic is a result of wine and rewatching the force awakens. honestly my brain always short circuits whenever oscar isaac comes on screen. so i had to do something. it was meant to be small, but i literally couldn't stop writing so it became this. it's an idea that has been lingering in my head for awhile, i just had to let it simmer for a bit. and now it's fully cooked.

summary: you and poe were inevitable. two asteroids set on a course to crash into one another. a celestial event that would happen whether you wanted it or not. you just never expected it to happen so soon.

word count: 3.4k+

pairing: poe dameron x f!reader

warnings: EXPLICIT SO MINORS DNI, alcohol consumption, love confessions sort of??, poe being romantic as fuck, p in v sex, guided masturbation, biting, sex in an x-wing, sex in a public place, unedited but we live and die by the fucking pen.

Intoxicating.

That was the only way you’d describe him. The only word that ever did him justice. He was the human embodiment of an Antakarian Fire Dancer. You got hammered on it one year after two glasses of the amber liquid, proceeding to forget half the night yet eager for more. Nothing could describe the man before you better. It simply wouldn’t do him justice. He was the itch beneath your skin that you could never satisfy, the reason you stood there now.

A glass of that amber liquid in both hands.

He’d disappeared from the celebration. An hour in from congratulations and happy faces, you watched him leave when no one was looking. And you did nothing to stop it. You knew he wasn’t one to relish in the joys of battle well done. Always intent on focusing towards the next thing—the next fight. It’s how you knew Leia would make him General, why he was so good at leading, at keeping the people he loved safe.

“Leaving without saying goodbye is rude, you know.”

He jumped slightly where he stood, his back to you, a holopad in one hand and a tool in the other. Of course he’d be here, fixing his X-Wing in silence. His own little ritual. You couldn’t count how many times you found him here after a fight, finalizing the last few checks before he caught some sleep. If he slept at all. Poe always seemed to be on the move no matter the time of day—a constant in the Resistance even when everyone else seemed to have lost faith.

“I said goodbye,” he joked, head turning slightly to see you come around, the holopad getting traded for a glass. “Just couldn’t see you in the crowd.”

You smiled. “You’re a shit liar Dameron.”

“I know.” He took a sip, winced, and laughed—the sound practically lighting you up inside. Igniting you like a fucking lightsaber.

“What’s the damage report?”

“Nothing I can’t fix.” He glanced back at the scraped up hunk of metal he loved more than anything. The amount of care he put into keeping her going was admirable—if a little insane at times.

But he was right. The damage was nothing he couldn’t fix.

“Are you sure you don’t need help?” The smile still played on your lips, eyes alight and aiming to start something you wanted him to finish.

Poe caught onto it quicker than you expected. He could see it before you followed him out of the celebration. A promise that lingered in the air from months of longing looks and timid words. Something inevitable and real. So much so that you were willing to bet everything that he felt exactly the same way you did.

You wanted each other. That was clear from day one. But doing something about it became difficult when war was a constant and lives were put in peril on the daily. Poe didn’t want to leave you broken beyond repair if he never made it back. Just as you didn’t want to do the same to him.

The fucked up thing about it though was Poe would mourn you either way. He’d live his life half a man if you never graced him with your presence again. If you weren’t around to smile at him from across rooms and laugh at his shitty jokes. He was pretty sure he’d already started. Being away from you was like a poison he constantly had to take, a pain he didn’t want to endure. And if it were up to him…he’d choose you every time.

No matter the consequences.

“You ever been in an X-Wing before?” he asked, trying to see past the bits and pieces of the ache that hurt you both.

You rolled your eyes and Poe felt his chest tighten. “You know I haven’t. I’m not pilot material.”

“Sounds like bantha shit to me starlight.”

The name you’d heard so many times before echoed differently to you now. You wanted to break through its meaning and find the promise within. The antidote to this fucking ache that stuck to your chest. You wanted to rip it out and grind it up. You wanted to finally take what you desired, relish in the feel of calling him yours without the pain of knowing what came next. The both of you were trying to save your emotions—protect yourselves—but there was no use.

Poe had found a home in your heart and he was there to stay.

“Come with me.”

When it came to him you had no choice but to listen, following dutifully behind in a haze of want. He climbed up the ladder on the side of his ship, plopping down into the seat with the grace of a pilot who’d done it a million times before. The movement now muscle memory at this point. Whereas you clambered up—buzzed on one drink—nearly falling into the cockpit. He grabbed your arm at the last minute, helping you slowly maneuver your way in, until you were perched on this lap.

The seat was barely big enough to fit him let alone you as well. And yet…you’d never felt more comfortable. He pulled you back slightly, hands pressed to your hips, chest snugly placed against your back. With every intake and exhale of breath, you felt him move. Felt his body shift. If you focused, you knew you would be able to feel his heartbeat. The rhythmic thump you’d grown accustomed to.

“Now—“ He precariously balanced his glass on the dash. “Your hands go here.” Covering your hands with his, he showed you how he’d position himself if he were flying. The cold touch of the buttons and knobs beneath your fingers sent electricity up your spine. “These are to shoot.” Another shift. “And this is to aim.”

You sucked in a breath. “Seems complicated.”

“Not at all.” His fingers slid up your arm, chin coming to rest on your shoulder. You tried to remember how to take a single breath. “You just have to understand how the ship works. How she moves, what she likes.”

Your breath hitched, body leaning into him more, and finally you felt it. The wall holding both of you back crumbled to the ground. All that remained now was the will to finally do something about it. So you let his hands guide you, watching in anticipation as they moved to your own body, pressing your palms into your stomach.

“There’s always a heart of a ship,” he murmured, moving your hand down. “A pilot guiding the way.”

“Poe…”

"After all, we've got to guide the ship back home." A soft whimper left your lips, your nails digging into the meat of your thighs to contain yourself. If the cockpit of his ship wasn't so fucking small, you had no doubt you'd be spread on his lap, lips connected to his already.

He grinned, his lips brushing across the back of your neck. “For me…” He stopped right above the hem of your pants, your fingers aching to finally delve down further. “That’s always been you.”

The alcohol had all but burned out of your system from how warm you were. His touch guiding yours seemed to have lit something in the base of your stomach, causing it to spread outwards. And you needed more. Your head fell back against his shoulder, eyes fluttering shut as he pressed your hand beneath the coarse fabric of your pants. The feeling of him cupping your mound—using you all the while—sent a jolt across your body; a soft moan falling free past your lips.

“Maker starlight,” he said, his voice hoarse with desire. “You’re so fucking wet.”

He wasn't wrong. You could feel yourself dripping the longer he spoke, his words affecting you more than you anticipated. Ever since you first met, Poe always held a power over you. A reminder that no matter how many times you tried to rid yourself of him, no matter what you did...he would remain burned into your soul. He'd be part of you until you drew your final breath in this galaxy.

"It's cause of you," you gasped, your fingers and his sliding through your slick. Running along the lips of your cunt, skimming past your clit entirely. "Oh—"

The scrape of his teeth along your neck nearly did you in entirely, the plea hanging off the tip of your tongue in anticipation. He was toying with you. Playing you like a fucking instrument and listening to your melody. Drowning in the sounds you made—the ones he dreamed of. If there was a life after this, a fated place he could go to rest, he'd want it to be here. Crammed into this cockpit with you on his lap, the feel of you sliding through his fingers and the echo of your voice breathing his name sweeter than the alcohol you had handed him earlier.

Poe would do whatever he could to make this moment last just a minute longer.

"Need you."

He kissed the junction where your neck and shoulder met, fingers still guiding yours through your own heat. "I know you do starlight. But you're gonna cum for me like this first." Your sweet little gasp ripped him a part. He had to squeeze his eyes shut to stave off nearly coming in his pants. "Let me guide you."

You nodded and spread your legs as wide as they could go in the cramped space. It wasn't very far, nor did it give him space to do what he really wanted to do to you, but it would have to do for now. The noise of the celebration in the distance only grew louder as people consumed more alcohol, the joy bleeding into the air. But you couldn't give a shit at that moment about why they were happy, or even what occurred before today.

You were lost to the depths that Poe pulled you into.

Heat spilled between your fingertips, a sticky mess starting between the two of you, but that seemed to only drive him forward. He pressed down, sliding your fingers into you with ease, his delving in right beside you—stretching you in a way that had your back arching. Wrapped his arm around your waist, he kept you still, his chin set on your shoulder and chest heaving with controlled breaths. A way for him to keep the last bits of his sanity as he felt your walls clamp around his fingers.

"Fuck baby," he grit between clenched teeth. "You really did need me huh?"

Nodding, you felt him press even further, fingers searching for something.

"You're gonna make a mess on me." Pumping his hand, he felt your body shudder—your mouth falling open as a ragged moan echoed in the ship. "Gonna take me so easily. I'll slip right in."

You burned from the inside out. A searing heat pulling tight across your body until you could nothing but fall into it. There was no fighting against that aching bliss, no running from what you wanted, what you dreamed of. Poe was intent on breaking you apart right there on his lap, and he'd watch with a smile on his face as you spilled yourself between the rough pads of his fingers. As you made a fucking mess on his lap.

"C'mon baby," he muttered, curling his fingers forward and nudging against something blinding. You cried out, hand grasping at his wrist to either pull him away or keep him right there. You couldn't tell at this point. And he smiled. "Is that it?" Rubbing against the spongy patch along your walls, he felt your entire body lock up, a whimpered sob breaking from your chest. "Yeah. That's fucking it."

You tried to warn him, his name a garbled echo of nonsensical letters on your tongue. But he already knew. His hand sped up, practically pushing your fingers out of the way as he gave you everything you wanted. Poe was certain that he wanted this more than you, that deep down he needed to know that you came because of him. That he was capable of turning you into a sobbing mess.

The echo of his pained grunt was loud in your ears, his hips pressing up into you to relieve the pressure of need he felt, and that's what did it. The knowledge that he was as gone as you were. That he had always wanted you.

Your walls fluttered around his fingers, a splintered moan falling past your parted lips as the pleasure spilled over. And he buried his face into your neck, a broken sound of his own muffled by your warm skin. He fought against finishing, biting into your shoulder as he worked you through your release. Adamant to make this last for you—to drag you to the Maker and back with a sated smile on your face.

Eventually you couldn't take it anymore, pleasure bleeding into pain, and you dragged his hand away. A breathless sigh of his name shooting right to his cock.

Without knowing it you had broken him for anyone else. Obliterated his ability to ever see someone the way he saw you.

You and your beauty. Your ability to render him speechless, breathless, and at your fucking mercy. For so long he was the ship lost in space with no sense of direction to lead him back to something real, a purpose. But then you settled into his heart. You became his pilot, guiding him through the never-ending void of space. You kept him afloat even as the weight of the galaxy threatened to drag him down, happy to watch him crash and burn in as so many others had done before.

"That was new," you giggled, hand reaching back to run through his hair.

He smiled, his heart twisting in his chest and fingers still covered in your slick coming to grip at your hips. "To think..." Pressing your ass down against his hard cock, he felt the breath hitch in your chest. "We could have been doing this the whole time."

"W-What a loss," you breathed, that now familiar all encompassing need filling your veins once more.

As if he knew your body so well already, he began to pull at your pants, helping you strip yourself to the best of your ability. The soft clinking of his belt echoed loudly in the cockpit and for a moment you were sure that people in the distance could hear it. But that thought quickly left your mind the second you felt the hot skin of his cock pressing against your lower back—his precum wet and sticky now smeared against your skin. Saliva filled your mouth, the ache pulling at your chest, clawing its way to the surface.

You didn't simply want him. That was too small of a word to explain the feeling in your body. You breathed for him. You lived for him. Poe was the blood that streamed in your veins, the reason your heart beat the way it did. Because it beat for him.

"Say you want this," he grunted, grinding against your skin, his fingers digging in harder than before. Until blood nearly pricked at the surface.

"Yes." The word was out of your mouth before he could even finish speaking. "Maker, I've wanted this for so long."

A growl hit your ears, his nose pressed into your back as he lifted you slightly, and you felt like you would rip to shreds if he didn't hurry. The head of his cock pressed against your entrance, sliding into you with slippery ease. And you pressed back against him, desperate to feel him sink into you fully. To be stretched out around his cock. Poe choked on his breath when your warm heat encompassed his throbbing length so suddenly, nearly throwing him off the edge entirely.

"Fuck starlight. You're gonna have to give me a second."

Your lips curled up into a grin. "Yes, General."

For a moment Poe could only process the breaths he took, the word entering his already blank mind. It wasn't until a searing heat shot up his spine at the sound of his title leaving your lips, did he fully understand. His hips pushed up into you, forcing him to sink just a bit deeper. You clutched at the side of the ship, your eyes fluttering shut at the feeling. The position had him pressing right along your walls, the underside of his cock grinding blissfully against you.

"I used to think you had no idea." He pushed you up slightly until his cock was halfway out and he glanced down, moaning at the sight of him covered in your slick. Only to pull you back down hard. Your choked cry was like music to his ears. "Didn't know what you do to me. How my whole fucking body belonged to you."

"Poe—"

He repeated the movement, smiling at the noises that came free. "But I was wrong."

A pressure quickly built in the base of your stomach, threatening to destroy you. And you chased it. Meeting his thrusts, you fucked yourself on his cock, hands pressed to the dash in front of you and back arched to find the perfect angle that made your toes curl in your boots. Ragged breaths filled the space, accompanied by broken moans and stunted grunts. Each one louder than the last as you both took and took and took, until the very edge of bliss mounted in your bodies.

He gripped the back of your neck, hand fisting at your hair as he pulled you back roughly against his chest. And you fell into it. Whining his name when he grinded up slowly, your walls clamped down around his cock. You could barely see straight through the burn of tears that glazed your eyes, a fucked out expression painted perfectly on your face. And Poe wished he could see you from where he was, catch a glimpse of the way your eyes rolled back, neck on display for him to bite.

"You know exactly what you do to me, starlight." His mouth fell open in a silent moan when his balls drew up painfully, cock throbbing along your walls. He quickly shoved his hand into your slick, fingers locating your clit with ease.

"Maker—" You heard him bite out your name like a prayer he couldn't get out fast enough. A plea for you to give him everything you had, everything that made you who you were. "I'm— Fuck I-I'm—"

"Yes," he groaned, using his other hand to cup your chin and pull your lips to his. Finally kissing you after years of dreaming it would happen. "Fucking give it to me baby."

His tongue licked into your mouth, swallowing every sound you made with ease. The feel of his lips against yours shoved you towards your release. A muffled cry of his name echoing in his mouth as your body went taut, thighs quaking as you gushed on his cock. He choked, mouth open and panting against yours, following you instantly and spilling into your cunt—filling you until you were sure it was dripping out of you and gathering at the base of him.

"Yours," he sighed against your lips, thumb running along the top of your cheek. "'M yours."

The twist of your heart brought you down from your high, your eyes fluttering open as he stared at your kiss swollen lips, the way his spit smeared along your bottom one. You expected him to take it back once he slipped out of you. Surely this was nothing but a dream, a moment in time that may never happen again. But in his eyes you saw devotion. You saw the inevitable future that was always bound to happen.

"Me too."

He smiled, nose brushing against yours. "Guess we're stuck with each other starlight."

"That doesn't sound too bad to me, General."

He tsked under his breath, fingers coming to grip your chin—brown eyes flashing up to meet your gaze. "You're causing trouble."

You grinned, grinding on his softened cock that was still buried deep in you. "And if I am?"

The feeling of his cock twitching inside you, slowly growing hard with interest. "Hands on the controls baby." He nipped at your bottom lip. "You know what to do."

A soft flutter filled your stomach as you followed his direction. Taking the lead in a dance that you were now familiar with. With Poe everything came with ease, as if you'd gone through it with him hundreds of times over. And guiding him home was just the beginning.

#poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron smut #poe dameron #my writing

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the-little-ewok · 1 year ago

Text

An Unorthodox Method

Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Rating : 18+/E

Word count : 7600 (ish)

Warnings : It's the one bed trope!, Lil mild angst, lots of teasing, Poe being an adorable little shit, mentions of Poe having hearing problems/being partially deaf in one ear, fluff, banter, SMUT, PIV, fingering, marking (love bites and nail marks), praise kink if you squint, illusions to cum eating, mentions of oral f- receiving, overstimulation if you blink, aftercare, very brief mention of casual sex/one night stands.

Summary : All you want is a hot shower, some clean dry clothes, and to crawl into bed. What you absolutely do not want is Poe Dameron in that bed with you.

@campingwiththecharmings thank you so much for this request! I'm so excited to finally do the one bed trope for Poe! I hope you like it.

Special thank you to @mandinlore for the beta 😘

~~~~~~~~~

The rain hammers a steady ping ping ping on the window as you and Poe stand in the doorway to the room, your clothes soaked and sticking uncomfortably to your skin, your shoes leaving puddles of water.

"You have got to be kidding me!" You groan as Poe laughs.

You had been looking forward to a hot shower, a nice warm bed, and at least a good few hours of peace and quiet. The last part had already been thwarted by the fact some error in the hotel booking meant you only had one room with no others available, and now to add insult to injury there was only one damn bed.

"Well, this is going to be fun!" The pilot chirps happily from beside you, walking in to dump his bag on the chair and leaving wet boot prints in his wake.

Climbing into bed with the resistance's best looking pilot, who you were, if you were honest, a little bit in love with, did not constitute as fun. In fact, after the day you had spent with him, it was the very last thing you wanted to do.

Poe was always, and had always, been chatty, but today he seemed to have turned all his dials up to maximum. He'd talked non stop, made unfunny jokes, inappropriate innuendos that with anyone else you suspect he wouldn't have gotten away with, and done just about anything he could to make himself the most annoying person this side of the galaxy.

For what reason, you had no idea. You had started to suspect perhaps he had realised your warm feelings towards him, and maybe this was his way of making you hate him so he didn't have to let you down, and honestly, you might think it was starting to work.

Trudging into the room, your boots squelching with each step, you place your bags down, resigned to your probably sleepless fate.

"You want the bathroom first?" The pilot offers, despite the fact he's worse off than you, having given you his jacket to hold above your head the moment the downpour started. It hadn't helped much after the first few minutes, but you had been grateful for the shelter anyway.

You don't really register his question, your thoughts lost as you finger the worn leather coat remembering the way his scent clung to it, invading your senses as you splashed through the flooded streets.

"Hey," you look up to find the pilot watching you, his brow furrowed. "You okay?"

You drop the jacket onto the dresser, giving him a smile and a nod.

"Just sick of listening to you."

Poe snorts with laughter, grabbing the hem of his shirt and peeling it up over his head. You purposely busy yourself pulling out some dry clothes from your pack , not allowing yourself to peek, although it's a difficult battle.

"There's nobody you love listening to more than me," Poe states, thankfully not seeming to notice your internal fight of keeping your eyes off him.

You sigh, somewhat thankful his annoying cockyness is a distraction from his semi-nakedness. Picking up your sleepwear and wash bag you head towards the bathroom, trying to ignore him. Poe however gives you no quarter, trailing along behind you.

"So what exactly are the sleeping arrangements going to be?" He asks.

Frowning you turn around, your eyes deciding to flicker over his bared torso before meeting his gaze. Even the smallest glance is enough to get blood rushing through your veins, and you can feel heat blossoming across your cheeks.

Ignoring the feeling you gesture to the bed with a raise of your eyebrow.

"But what if you snore?" The pilot asks, clearly not noticing your desire to leave the room until he's decided to put some clothes on.

You pull a face, not quite understanding his issue when he's half deaf from the war anyway. The explosion that had damaged most of the resistance ships had permanently damaged his eardrums, which Poe liked to use to his advantage when he decided he wasn't going to listen to someone, although you think he hears far more than he lets on.

"Poe, you can hardly hear out of one ear as it is! Just sleep on your good ear and you probably won't hear a thing out of the other one."

He folds his arms stubbornly. "I'll hear if you're right next to my head."

"Then you are more than welcome to sleep in the bathroom once I'm done," you offer, stepping into the tiny fresher.

"Nah, I'd rather sleep in the bed. But what if you steal the covers?"

"Then you can take them back."

"What if you cuddle me in your sleep?" He fires quickly.

You give him a withering look, trying not to think about pressing your body against his, keeping your eyes trained on his face.

"Oh trust me Poe, I won't." In fact you will do everything possible not to touch him, just for your own sanity.

"But you might. I'm very into consent and if I'm asleep-" he pauses mid sentence, opening his mouth and then closing it again before leaning against the door frame. "Actually scratch all of that. I absolutely give you consent to do whatever you like to me."

The pilot grins at you and you feel a familiar surge of heat through your body, collecting and coiling in your abdomen. Combined with your patience finally snapping, it's the last straw. You slam the bathroom door in his handsome smug face.

The lukewarm shower really tops off the day.

"I've been thinking" Poe starts the moment he exits the bathroom, after loudly complaining through the door about you using up all the hot water.

You pinch the bridge of your nose with a sigh, the hope that he would have calmed down and go straight to sleep evaporating. You are grateful however that he's at least finally put a shirt on.

"That must hurt."

"Oi!" He protests with a shocked expression, that at least brings a little smile to your lips. He grins at you, letting you know he took no offence at your words.

"As I was saying," he continues while you lay out his clothes to dry, the ones he dumped in a wet pile in the middle of the floor. "I've been thinking, and I know what's wrong with you. I want you to know it's okay."

The way his voice suddenly goes so gentle makes you look around. The pilot holds out his hand, wrapping his fingers around yours as he pulls you closer, holding your gaze steadily. You hope he doesn't notice the way your breath catches, or the heat blazing through you that makes your hands clammy.

"It's okay to be nervous," he continues, while your mouth goes dry. "I know spending the night with me is a lot, and it's going to be so difficult for you to keep your hands to yourself, but we are going to get through this together, and you'll be able to tell everyone about it when we get home."

You snatch your hand angrily out of his while the pilot bursts into laughter.

"Grow up and get in the damn bed!" You growl, climbing into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin and turning over away from him, your heart thundering in your chest. How, even when he was joking, did he manage to get so damn close to the truth?

"Why do you want me in bed so badly, huh? Thinking about late night cuddles?" You hear the pilot ask, feeling the mattress sink with his weight.

"No. When you're asleep, you're not talking," you bite out, still stinging from the embarrassment of your reaction when he was just being his usual annoying self.

Poe ignores your hostility and you feel him shrug.

"Listen, all I'm trying to do is tell you that we could eliminate some of this sexual tension. Well, if you wanted to."

Sexual tension wasn't exactly what you would say was between you, but there was always certainly something, although with Poe you imagine he had that with everyone. With you though, your feelings for the pilot ran a little deeper, not that you'd ever dare speak those aloud. The last thing you needed was the "it's not you, it's me" speech, especially if his behaviour was to drive you away. Best to let sleeping dogs lie.

You run a hand down your face with an exasperated sigh. "There is absolutely no sexual tension, Poe. What there is, is murderous tension."

Poe lets out an exclamation of excitement.

"Oh my favourite kind!"

You bite the inside of your cheek to stop a smile, lest you encourage him to continue.

"Please Poe, go to damn sleep," you whine, pulling the pillow from under your head and pressing it against your ear, trying to block out his incessant rambling.

"I will if you admit it."

"Admit what?" You groan, frustrated. Why can't he just shut the hell up and let you get through this?

"That you've thought about us."

"Poe I swear-" you take a deep breath, grabbing the cushion with one hand, rolling over with the intent on smothering him into silence. You're surprised to find the pilot on his side, almost nose to nose with you in the small bed.

"You've seriously never thought about us kissing?" Poe interrupts.

"I…I…" you’re thrown by his closeness, by his long lashes and soft smile, by the damn doe eyed look he's giving you.

You know there's no shutting him up until you tell him what he wants to hear so you take a breath. It wouldn't exactly be news to him, Poe knew just about everyone had considered kissing him at some point or another. The man did come with a reputation for having a rather skillful mouth after all.

"Fine! Maybe once or twice. Now go to damn sleep!" You growl, annoyed at him, and yourself.

The shit eating grin he gives you is enough to make you turn back over, tucking the pillow under your head and shutting your eyes tightly, as though that alone might drown him out.

"I knew it," he gloats with a happy sigh, clicking off the bedside lamp.

You grip the pillow, considering the option you still have of smothering him.

Thankfully he's quiet from that point and infuriatingly asleep in less than five minutes. You can feel the mattress move with his slow steady breaths.

Glancing over your shoulder he's laid out on his back, one arm tucked under his head, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he dreams, his full lips open with a soft sigh.

Turning around again you punch the lumpy pillow, trying to get more comfortable.

You will not think about kissing him. That was a one time thing. Okay, maybe three or four. Well maybe more… a lot more. You're determined tonight for once, you will not fall asleep thinking about his mouth on yours, you will absolutely not think about his lips on your skin, or his fingers caressing your breasts…

Someone suddenly shakes you and you open your eyes groggily, the room swimming and blurred as you blink sleep from your vision.

"What the hell?" You grumble, looking up at the pilot with his sleep tousled curls, still half asleep himself, one eye still shut and the other half open, bathed in the soft moonlight glow that sneaks through the blinds.

"You said my name," he mumbles, voice still sleep gravelled. "You alright?"

Flashes of his mouth sealed over your nipple, his tongue darting out to lick a path down to your navel, your hand gripping his hair, his mouth between your thighs.

Oh no. You absolutely did not have a sex dream about him. Not now, not here. Please no!

"You must have dreamt it," you swallow, desperately trying to play it cool. If Poe heard you while he was dead asleep, then you must have been loud. You feel the heat prickling the back of your neck.

"No, I definitely heard you say Poe," he insists.

"Well even if I did I'm fine so you can go back to sleep," you insist, shifting your legs restlessly. You're too warm. Well not just warm, burning hot, sweat cooling on your skin, an uncomfortable ache between your legs that screams of unsatisfied desire.

"You sure? You sounded a bit…breathless?" The pilot asks again, genuine concern in his tone. Although you can barely see him in the dim lighting you can still see the frown pulling his brows together, both eyes now open and studying you. You really don't want him to press any further. Even his voice brings back flashes of the dream, sultry whispers in your ear, his tongue lapping at your folds, the cry of his name from your mouth.

You swallow again, pushing the thoughts away.

"Really, I'm fine. Must have been a nightmare if it involved you anyway."

"Ouch." He holds his hands over his chest, collapsing back onto the mattress as though you wounded him, giving a long drawn out dramatic death rattle.

Pulling up the covers you throw them over his head with a laugh.

"Go back to sleep, Flyboy."

Laying back you shuffle as close to the edge as you can, putting as much distance as possible between you and the pilot. You wonder if it would be better for you to stay awake, just in case your dreams come back to haunt you. You absolutely wouldn't get away with saying his name a second time.

"It's okay you know," Poe speaks suddenly into the darkness as you lay rigid beside him. "If you were dreaming about me. I wouldn't mind."

You can't help but snort with laughter at that.

"You wouldn't mind if anyone dreams about you."

"True," Poe admits. You feel him shift and even though you can't see him, your eyes staring up at the ceiling, his gaze burns you.

"Let me rephrase. I'd like it if you dreamt about me." He continues.

When you don't turn to face him or grace him with an answer, you feel the shift of the mattress again as he lays back.

"I'm sorry," he sighs, and for once it sounds genuine, not a hint of playfulness in his tone. "I thought this would cheer you up. It's been a long week and you've just seemed so… I don't know. Not yourself, like you're bottling everything up. I figured maybe if you were thinking about how annoying I was, or making you laugh and fight with me, it would give you a bit of a distraction and an outlet, but I get it, maybe I took it too far, even if it is the truth."

It had been a long week, the longest in fact. While the mission itself had been a success, you had seen a lot of the First Order's destruction in the process, and it was worse than either of you had realised. You'd felt melancholy for days, the sights you've witnessed replaying in your mind. You hadn't noticed it much at the time, too lost in your own thoughts and angry that he was so loud that it was impossible to hear yourself think, but the more you think about it, the more you realise what he's been doing — trying to make you smile, keeping you distracted, making you focus on anything but what's happened. All you've done is complain to him about it.

Guilt twists hard in your stomach.

How typical of Poe to try and be helpful in the most unconventional way.

Part of you wants to reach for him, to cuddle him tight against you and thank him, to tell him you're here for him too if he needs someone. The other part keeps you rigidly pinned to the mattress, afraid to move in case so much as a finger brushes up against him, unsure if you can hold yourself back with the lingering memory of the dream.

"You mean the truth is that you really are worried I snore?" You ask, trying to break the unbearable tension.

His answer is the most serious he's sounded all day. There isn't a trace of humour, of teasing, just a tiredness, the kind that comes from pretending to smile all day, the kind that signals a surrender.

"No, I could live with that. I mean the dreaming part. I'd like it if you dreamt about me."

"Oh." You can't find anything else to say to that, your heart hammering so loudly in your chest you're sure even through his damaged ear he can hear it.

The ongoing silence suddenly feels heavy, like a crushing weight on your chest, the truth feels like lead in your belly. Poe hasn't made a single noise in a while but you get the distinct feeling he isn't asleep. You wonder if he's laying still too, muddling through his thoughts.

You can't take back your behaviour towards him but you can at least give him something in return.

"Poe?"

The response is instant, "Yeah?"

You take a breath, swallowing hard, your fingers twisting into the sheet at the edge of the bed, nervously gripping them.

"Every day," you whisper quietly.

"Huh?"

You feel a slight shift as he must turn to look at you.

You clear your throat, staring hard enough at the ceiling that your eyes start to burn, repeating yourself louder.

"I said every day. I lied earlier. It's not once or twice. I think about kissing you every day. I have for a while," you admit.

A sudden blinding light obscures your vision, making you cry out in surprise and squeeze your eyes shut against the sudden intrusion. Coloured lights flash behind your eyelids and you have to blink a few times in order to see anything.

When the room comes back into focus Poe is sitting bolt upright in the bed, staring down at you, the bedside lamp illuminating his head like a synthetic halo.

"You were dreaming about me!"

With a groan you grab the pillow and hold it over your own face, deciding if you can't smother him you could just smother yourself instead, which seems like the better option than actually having this conversation.

You feel the pillow tug back gently, but you hold fast, refusing to give it up.

"Come on, let go and talk to me. You've said it now." A grunt of effort and a hard tug on the pillow before Poe sighs. "I'm not going away so you're either going to suffocate or talk."

"Then I'll suffocate," you mumble into the pillow, already regretting saying anything.

"You know I can't hear you right? Come on." This time he tucks his fingers under yours and peels them off the pillow cover until it falls halfway off your face.

"Better," he smiles, letting go of your hands to remove it entirely. "Why are you hiding from me?"

"I don't want to see your smug smile about how right you are," you glare, trying to hide your embarrassment that you've blurted out exactly what you've been trying to conceal from him. Once more, Poe takes your attitude in his stride.

"I've thought about kissing you too, you know? In fact I've thought about kissing you at least four times since you woke me up." He gives a shrug, like you should know that, like it's completely utterly normal for someone to think about kissing you that many times in the space of ten minutes.

You bite your lip, familiar tendrils of desire reigniting in your belly. Your body, still clearly on edge from your illicit dream, thrums with tension.

"So why haven't you done it yet?"

Poe rolls his eyes, as though the answer is obvious. "Clearly I'm building up the sexual tension for it!"

You're done letting him have the upper hand in this. In a surge of confidence, and to stop the smug look on his face, you wrap your hand around the back of the pilot's neck, before you pull his lips to yours. You feel Poe's brief smile, probably of victory, against your mouth before he kisses you back.

It's soft at first, almost sweet tender kisses, short and playful, getting to know each other. He kisses your top and bottom lip, he gives you tiny pecks of affection, he licks playfully at your bottom lip.

Effortlessly he shifts his weight over you, slotting himself between your thighs as though you were made to fit together. His tongue licks into your mouth, slick and hot, sliding against your own as he presses his body against yours, your kisses descending into something much more passionate.

Maker, the rumours weren't wrong. He is good at this, better than good actually, infuriatingly good. You can't even find any fault to tease him about.

You tangle your fingers in his curls, tugging gently and causing the pilot to moan into your mouth. You give a shiver of desire at the sound, your mind filled with thoughts of how you can draw it from him in other ways. Poe's mind seems to be on a similar track, his hips grinding against yours, pressing himself against your core and causing you to let out a gasp of surprise at the jolt of pleasure.

Perhaps there was a little sexual tension after all.

The pilot pulls away, his chest heaving, eyes dark and lips kiss swollen, his curls messy and tousled from your fingers.

"Fuck, sorry. I didn't mean to get carried away so quickly," he apologises, swallowing hard as he clearly tries to get a handle on himself, holding his body off yours, allowing a brief respite for you both to collect yourselves.

"I don't mind getting carried away," you admit, still feeling feverish with his closeness, your mind filled with the fantasy of your dreams. You raise your hips, pressing up against his clothed length, making the pilot let out a choked moan of surprise before his eyes darken.

"Well in that case," he grins, recovering all too quickly. Desire coils in your belly and before you can drag his mouth back to yours, in true Poe fashion, he continues talking. "Why don't you tell me what I was doing in this dream of yours?"

You give him a coy smile. As if he's going to get it out of you that easily.

"Fulfilling my deepest fantasy," you answer as Poe licks his lips, eagerly leaning forward to listen.

"Oh yeah? What fantasy might that be?"

"You were quiet for a whole five minutes," you sigh dreamily. It takes a second to register with him before he leans back bursting out laughing. You can't help but start to giggle yourself.

"Okay, I deserved that!" He laughs. "My methods may be unorthodox, but they work!"

He was entirely correct in that him being his usual annoying self was exactly what you had needed as a distraction, although you're sure there were less annoying ways to achieve the same means.

"I don't know. I actually considered murdering you at least a few times. Maybe I still will, when you're fast asleep and least expecting it," you warn, running a finger along your throat in a playful threat.

Poe hums, leaning back down over you, caging you to the bed with his arms.

"What exactly makes you think either of us will be going back to sleep?"

Oh.

There's another rush of heat that tingles against your skin, shooting straight down to your aching core. It's not at all helped by the fact Poe leans down to capture your lips, his tongue slipping between your teeth as he moves one hand to grip your hip, sliding it slowly up your body and under your shirt to trail his fingers across your breast.

You moan into his mouth as he rolls your peaked nipple between his fingers, grinding yourself up against him, uncaring of whatever commentary he wants to make as long as you can deal with this rapidly intensifying desire.

When he finally pulls away once more it's hard to get your breath, especially as he continues to steal little kisses from you, his fingers still resting against your skin.

Bracing himself on one arm above you, the other slides down to tiptoe over your hip.

"Do I have your consent to remove these ugly pants?" He grins teasingly, pulling at the waistband of your shorts. They had seen better days in all fairness but you hadn't really considered anyone else seeing them.

"Hey, they aren't that bad! Not like you're the pinnacle of fashion." In retaliation you poke your finger through a hole in the leg of his threadbare sleep pants, making the pilot laugh.

"These are my lucky pants."

You can't help but snort with a roll of your eyes. "That's the stupidest thing I've heard."

Poe raises one eyebrow, a smug smile tugging at his lips.

"They got you into my bed didn't they?"

You scoff, "The hotel management got me into this bed."

"You know what, you're right. Maybe I should go thank them now," Poe muses, his grin turning into a laugh as you wrap your arms around him, preventing him from leaving.

"Will you please just stop talking?" You laugh, wondering how much of the night is even left. You swear if the sun rises and you haven't resolved this, you will combust of need, and you will take the pilot out with you.

Poe raises his eyebrows.

"Well, I would, but you still haven't answered my original question."

You stare at him, trying to figure out what exactly he's talking about before you realise.

"For the love of… Yes Poe, I give you consent to do whatever you want to me as long as you stop dragging this out like a massive tease!"

The pilot lets out a soft chuckle, leaning down to brush his nose against yours, a soft gesture in a stark contrast to what leaves his mouth, "dangerous words, sweetheart."

You almost shudder with the flash of desire that bolts through you, making sharp heat rush across your skin and your pussy clench.

"I need you to make me a promise first though," his fingers slip across your abdomen, resting just above the waistband of your pants. The feverish desire at his touch is overshadowed by annoyance that he's still talking. Maker, you swear he won't survive till sunrise.

"Po-

"I'm going to need you to be loud," he purrs in your ear, cutting you off as his hand slips under your waistband. "I don't want to miss a single noise you make."

Even if you wanted to be quiet, the pad of his finger slipping across your clit causes your body to react in a primal way, letting out an embarrassing loud moan for such a little touch.

Poe chuckles.

"Just like that." He praises, sliding his finger down further to dip into your entrance, letting out a soft groan of his own at how wet you are, before he drags it back up, spreading your slick over your aching clit and making you whine again. "Can you do that for me? Can you be loud enough?"

The best you can muster is a whimper as he slowly thrusts his finger knuckle deep into you.

"Nu-huh," Poe chides, "loud."

A second finger quickly joins the first, stretching your walls and filling you more than your own ever could. This time you arch your back off the bed, chasing the blissful feeling as a much louder groan tears itself from your throat.

"Better," Poe grins. "I heard that one."

You want to smother him, you want to kiss him, but most of all, despite his annoying little smug smile, you still desperately want to fuck him.

You decide on option two, at least for the moment, pulling his lips down to yours.

His tongue licks into your mouth as he thrusts his fingers inside you at a leisurely pace, swallowing each whine and moan you give at the pleasure skittering and coiling in you.

Poe curls his fingers, pressing up against that spot inside you, making you pull away from his kiss to throw your head back in pleasure, a loud groan of his name escaping. You're half expecting him to make some sort of cocky comment, but Poe seems as lost in this as you are. He drops his head to press open mouthed kisses across your neck, biting and sucking, marking and claiming you as his.

When he works a third finger into you, his thumb brushing against your clit, you come undone. Normally you would feel embarrassed about how loud you are, the way your body shudders and heaves, your pussy clenching hard around his fingers, but the shaky little fuck Poe groans in your ear, obliterates any notion of embarrassment.

As you come down from your high, your body still trembling from the aftershock, whining as he slips his fingers from you, you realise he's breathing almost as heavily as you are, his breath coming out in short pants as he looks you over.

"I need to fuck you," he growls, clearly struggling with his own needs.

You're already nodding before he gets halfway through his request. Whatever he needs, whatever he wants, you'll give it to him without hesitation.

He all but tears your pyjamas from you, making short work of removing them and throwing them across the room, before his join the unceremonious pile on the floor.

This time you allow yourself to look, you allow yourself to take in his broad chest, the little scars crisscrossed with a larger one, old and new, your gaze trailing down across his abdomen to the line of hair that guides your eyes down to -

"Are you done admiring?" Poe's amused tone makes your eyes snap back up to his, your face growing warm with embarrassment that you've been caught staring, although you know he has probably done exactly the same to you.

"I don't know about admiring," you shrug as though your pussy isn't pulsing at the thought of him burying his cock deep inside you. "Think the resistance needs to re-evaluate their best looking pilot status."

Poe simply grins at you, seeing through your nonchalance all too clearly.

"Good to know you like what you see. Tell me, how wet did it make you to see me earlier, all soaked and shirtless?"

"Didn't," is all you are able to punch out as he leans down, pressing his body against yours, rolling his hips just slightly so his hard cock brushes against your slick folds, holding himself at your entrance like the tease he is.

"Really?" He smirks, "Somehow I think you are lying. But alright, I'll get the truth out of you, one way or another." The threat gives you a rush of excitement, wondering exactly how he's going to do that. Not that you're going to let him know that so easily.

"Are you going to keep talking or are we going to-" your question cuts off into a gasp of pleasure as he presses himself inside you, slowly, so you can feel every vein and ridge as he stretches your walls.

"Are we going to what?" He grins.

You slap his arm in reply but there's no power behind it, you're too busy concentrating on the wet noise as he pulls out of you before slowly pressing back in, making you whimper in need. The first time your pussy clenches around him it's involuntary, the second time it's just to enjoy the little groan the action draws from the pilot.

"Stop," he warns, his head dropping to your shoulder, clearly trying to steady his breathing as you clench around him a third time, just for fun. "Taking it slow."

"You don't have to take it slow," you assure him. For a moment you think it's sweet he's considering your comfort but you're more than ready for this.

"I want to," he grits as you clench around him again. The tone of his voice lets you know he's digging his stubborn heels in and nothing will change his mind. Even so you need more than he's offering. This has gone on too long, the tension is too much, the need drumming through your veins screams to be sated.

You whine, you beg, you plead, you drag your nails along his back and arch your hips against him, but he doesn't give. He rocks into you slowly, achingly slowly, maddeningly slowly, and for all your initial protests you enjoy every second of it.

The pleasure builds just as slow, each roll of his hips winding the cord tighter and tighter until you're sure you can't take any more, and then it pulls further. You can't do anything but surrender to the bliss it offers, raising your hips to meet his in the hopes his resolve will eventually break.

"You're incredible you know?" He pants against your mouth, sweat beading at his hairline, his curls sticking to his forehead, his eyes hooded and glazed. "Not just at this, but this too."

All you can do is stare at him, somewhat dazed, wondering how he's even thinking in coherent sentences right now, let alone speaking them. Somewhere your subconscious registers his words and it accompanies a host of butterflies in your belly.

"Just you, exactly as you are. You are incredible," he repeats, only this time it comes with a much harder thrust. You arch against him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your head drops back against the pillows.

"Poe, please," you beg, unsure if you are able to take much more. Clearly neither can he, his name on your lips undoing his patience. He wraps his fingers around your thigh, hoisting your leg up over his hip as he sinks deeper into you, picking up the pace.

His hips slam into yours, filling the room with the sound of flesh on flesh, accompanied only by his curses and praises that fall freely and loudly. For all his requests for you to be loud the pilot's own moans are enough to drown yours out.

Working a hand between your bodies you press a finger to your clit, rubbing tight circles around the hardened nub as Poe angles his hips, pressing up against the blissful spot inside you. Your whole body almost arches up off the bed with the combined pleasure catapulting through you, an almost screamed curse fighting its way out of your throat.

Poe groans low and shakily, barely holding his own climax back, his thrusts becoming messy and mistimed.

"That's it baby. Fuck wanna feel you cum, wanna hear you," he groans, completely wrecked.

That's all it takes. Your orgasm hits suddenly and brightly, your whole body writhing and stiffening as the pleasure overtakes you, coursing through your veins like lava, making your vision go white as you tremble through it. Poe had wanted to hear you, but the purely feral noise you let out, you wouldn't be surprised if the whole damn hotel heard you. You're sure Poe would probably enjoy it if they did.

It's almost too much for your oversensitive body to feel Poe thrusting into you faster and harder, chasing his own end, babbled curses and praises falling from his lips. You shake with overstimulation when his hips stutter, emptying himself deep inside you, your nails leaving crescent moons on his shoulders as you cling desperately to him, your thighs trembling, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.

Poe half collapses on you, letting your leg down slowly as he presses soft kisses to your neck, against every love bite he's given you in the heat of the moment. You suspect there may be quite a few questions when you get back to the base tomorrow. Turning your head you press a soft kiss to his cheek, making him lean up to look at you.

"Better than you dreamt?" He grins, still flushed and panting.

"I didn't dream about that," you giggle breathlessly, shaking limbs melting into the mattress, sated and tired. Poe raises his eyebrows, letting out a thoughtful hum before he suddenly pulls out of you, making you whimper and immediately miss the feeling of him inside you.

Shuffling down your body he presses a soft kiss between your breasts. You frown at him, confused by his sudden movement and how he still has so much energy. How is it you're a wrecked mess and he's still acting like he can go another ten rounds? Why can't he just be still for one second?

Another kiss to your ribs, first the right side, then the left, moving slowly down, before he pauses, looking up through his lashes at you.

"You didn't dream about us making love?"

You go to make fun of his choice of language but before you have a chance he licks a hot stripe down to your naval, making your breath catch with the sudden rush of pleasure. You're starting to question if he's able to read your thoughts, if he knows the truth of your dream already. Perhaps you had said more than just his name in your sleep?

"Nope, not about us," you breathe unsteadily, trying to hold yourself back from begging anything from him again. You suspect you know what's coming next and honestly, you're not sure if your body is able to handle it, barely over your first two climaxes. Still you weren't about to give in to his questions, he'd never shut up if you admit it. "Told you, I wasn't dreaming about you."

"You are a terrible liar," Poe states, his hands gripping your thighs, pushing them apart. The rush of cold air against your heated flesh makes you gasp and the pilot smirks, his eyes flickering down to your swollen cunt, leaking with your combined climax before coming back to you, a devilish grin taking over his face.

"'Whatever I want to do to you' still stand?" He asks.

All you can do is nod mutely, a fresh wave of need building despite your exhaustion.

"Good," Poe grins, pinning your thighs to the mattress, preventing you from moving. "Because I'm going to get the truth out of you my way."

He does exactly that. He drags the truth out of you to every question he wants answered and more, twice with his mouth, then again with his cock, reducing you to a babbling trembling mess, willing to tell him whatever he wanted to know, and he's infuriatingly smug about it.

Poe had been surprisingly tender afterwards. He'd carefully cleaned you up, brought you a glass of water, massaged your sore muscles, before he'd finally pulled you into his arms, holding you close against him.

Of course you had known Poe was kind, of course you knew he took care of the people he was close to, even those who only spent the night with him. There were enough stories around the base to give you a general idea of that, but for some reason you can't place this felt different, it felt intimate.

What surprised you more than anything was how quiet he was now. Appart from a few murmured words about how good you had been for him, and to check you were alright, he hadn't said much at all. It was almost unnerving after his behaviour all day. Really if you had known this would have shut him up you might have jumped on him hours ago. But now, the silence seems worrying.

"You okay?" You ask, your head still against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat as his fingers draw mindless patterns against your back.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I was just thinking…maybe we can do this again? Sometime soon? Be in the same bed I mean." The pilot asks. He doesn't sound like the cocky confident Flyboy you're expecting. If anything he sounds a little unsure of his own question.

You won't give him the satisfaction of the enthusiastic yes that tries to escape. The last thing you want out of this night is to become some regular casual hook-up. Poe wasn't exactly known for keeping long term relationships, citing the fact it was too difficult during the middle of a war, which you suppose you could understand. He was at least always very clear about that with whoever he got involved with.

Equally you don't want to say no. You want this, him. You want the moments of passion and quiet, you want the teasing and fights, you want more in whatever way you can.

In the end you go for the middle ground, giving him an option of more, while closely guarding yourself against this being a casual fuck.

"Hmm, suppose if you buy me dinner first then I might consider it. I don't make a habit of sleeping with people without dates."

It's disarmingly sweet when he presses a soft kiss to your head, tightening his arm around you. Your chest aches all the more for moments like this.

"Alright. A date it is." You can hear the smile in his voice, sleepy and happy.

You didn't exactly expect him to agree to that so easily, and while it gives you a flutter of hope, you don't quite trust he catches your meaning.

"I said I'd consider, I didn't say I'd agree. I might have other options," you warn, trying to get him to consider what he wants you to be to him.

Poe lets out a soft chuckle.

"You say that like your pretending it wasn't the best fuck of your life, and you're desperate to do it again."

You lean up on your arm to look at him, raising an eyebrow and fixing him with an unimpressed look at his cockyness.

"Tell me I'm wrong," he challenges confidently, "because if I am, then I'm just going to have to keep trying. The aim is to make you fall hopelessly in love with me eventually."

"Through sex?" You laugh, ignoring the now familiar butterflies that tell you he might be closer to his aim than he knows.

Poe shrugs, "through whatever necessary means, as long as I get to keep you as mine."

It's almost a knee jerk reaction to open your mouth and tell him you aren't a pet or property to be owned, but as you meet his gaze you realise you are once more judging him a little too quickly and all too harshly. It's clear he means more than that, his gaze open and vulnerable.

A warm feeling of familiarity, of safety, of something bigger, spreads through your very bones, something that shows there is much more than lust and affection, perhaps for both of you.

Your response is much softer than your initial reaction might have been, had you not taken a moment.

"Take me to dinner tomorrow then?"

"I think tomorrow might be today," Poe smiles, nodding towards the window where the faint pink light of dawn is starting to peek through the drawn blinds. You groan knowing sunrise both means you really should untangle yourself from the pilot and head back to base.

"Well honestly I think I've had enough of you for one day." You tease, pushing yourself off him and sitting up, debating if you can handle another cold shower. In all honesty a cold shower is probably exactly what you need after you make the mistake of glancing down at Poe, still naked, the sheet barely covering his more private parts, his curls messy from your fingers, peering up at you with a half smile.

"We both know you can never get enough of me," Poe states, before he wraps his arms around you and drags you back down onto the bed. He throws one leg over yours, effectively trapping you next to him as he snuggles up close to you.

You don't bother fighting, too tired from the night's activity to argue your way out of his grip. Sighing you sink into the bed, allowing your eyes to flutter closed.

"I knew this would work," Poe hums happily in your ear. You mumble enough of a sound to make him realise you're asking what he means.

"Getting you in a hotel room with me would make you admit you wanted me."

You give another tired hum in acknowledgement before his words finally hit you, and you sit up to stare at him, suddenly wide awake. Poe grins back at you, knowing exactly what you are thinking.

"Tell me this was not some plan to get me into bed!"

Poe feigns a comedic shocked expression, holding one hand to his chest as he stares open mouthed at you.

"Of course not! What do you think of me? Why is your opinion of me is so low that you think I'd go as far to break the ship engine, so we'd be stuck here alone, find the busiest hotel on this planet, specifically book one room knowing the others would be booked already by the time we got here, ask for the smallest bed-"

He doesn't get to continue. Picking up the pillow you repeatedly hit him hard with it while Poe laughs, holding his hands up in surrender.

"I'm joking. I'm joking, I swear," he laughs, grabbing his own pillow and hitting you back. "I'd never purposely break a ship."

"You manipulative little shit,"

Neither of you surrender until the bed is covered with feathers, the pillowcases empty and discarded, your limbs tangled together, lips pressed against sweat salted skin. This time it's you who pries the truth from him, your way.

"My methods may be unorthodox but -" he gets no further before you smack him in the face with your pillow, causing him to dissolve into laughter once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

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ivystoryweaver · 1 year ago

Text

Based on this request from @steven-grants-world "I haven't even touched you and you're already wet" with Poe ❤

Content: NSFW, 18+, Poe Dameron x f!reader, more below the cut

Word count: 1.7k

Contains: fingering, sort of thigh riding, shenanigans in public, not beta'd

You had the absolute most massive crush on Commander Dameron. It was more than a crush, really - you wanted him. No, scratch that - you needed him.

Every single thing about this man drove you to absolute distraction. In a meeting? A stray curl would tumble across his forehead. Training exercises? Just bossy and sassy enough to drive you wild. Hand-to-hand combat and sparring practice? The strain of his thick thighs against his slightly too-tight pants made you want to trap him in a storage room somewhere and use that thigh to relieve a little pressure between your legs.

He was in your closest circle of friends, so you were tormented by him day and night.

His mouth - the curve of his perfect, full lips as they wrapped around koyo fruit - the way the tip of his tongue would swipe away its juices...

The smug curl in the corner of his mouth when he was amused. The crinkles lining the sides of his burnt umber eyes when he laughed - which was often.

Everyone found Poe easy to love but you needed him desperately.

It became a daily chore to keep from staring at him - although, by this point, you were sure he'd caught you more than once. The infamous curl of his lips and a quick wink definitely communicated something. You just weren't sure what.

And he did flirt with you. He flirted with everyone, in a way, but he sat beside you to eat, bumped your shoulder after telling a joke, and again - he winked. All the time.

Tonight was the culmination of months of torture and you weren't sure how you were going to make it. Because tonight, Poe made a rare appearance in his officer's uniform. The drab neutrals somehow highlighted the gorgeous browns in his eyes and curls.

Everyone was dressed a little nicer than usual, enjoying a rare celebration due to a recent victory. Poe was to receive some sort of honor - hence the uniform. You arrived a little late, having fussed with your appearance far longer than usual.

Hoping to slip in unnoticed, you failed miserably at this task when you ran right into the one person you hoped to avoid - at least for a little while, since being around him when he looked so distinguished and handsome would likely make you fall on your face doing something embarrassing.

"Hey," he laughed out, reaching to steady you by grasping your elbows. "There you are - I was waiting for you."

Your mouth went dry at the sight of him up close - the heat of his fingers burning through your own uniform. "F-for me?" You gasped, gripping his forearms to steady yourself.

"Yeah, everybody's here. I was on my way to get some drinks," he told you with a grin. "Wanna help?"

"Uh, s-sure," you nodded, grateful for a distracting task that would keep your hands occupied and your eyes facing forward and not on your commander.

"Come on, it's crowded in here." Brushing past you, he reached for your hand, leading you through a sea of Resistance fighters - each one wanting a moment of his time, or at least his attention.

Despite the thrill electrifying your body as his strong hand enveloped yours, it didn't take you long to lose him in the crowd.

Noticing this immediately, Poe excused himself from the latest person distracting him to call your name.

"There you are. I thought I lost you," he said, his eyes twinkling with something that looked like relief.

"No, I'm here," you assured him, thrilled to have his attention. What you wouldn't give to have ten minutes alone with this man.

"Come here." Once again, he set off, reaching for your hand, but this time, he didn't stop until you made your way outside.

"Commander Dameron, what are we - "

Glancing back at you, his fingers now tangled with yours, he granted you his trademark smirk. "Poe, please. We've known each other long enough. Haven't we?"

The question seemed rhetorical as he led you behind the building, to a secluded alleyway.

"Sorry it's dark out here," he apologized, finally stopping and turning to face you. His hands landed on his hips as he studied you carefully. "Is it okay if I talk to you for a minute?"

Your heart flamed with desire and nervous anticipation. If you didn't control yourself, you might jump him.

"Are you mad at me?" He pressed on. "Because you've been a little different. Yesterday, after our sparring session..."

He went on to recount his version of events after having pinned you to the ground with your head locked between this thick thighs.

"I know I'm hard on you..."

Maker.

He carried on, speaking to you in Commander fashion, but now your mind was filled with thoughts of his thighs and his hand on yours and watching his mouth move. The moonlight shone down, highlighting the contours of his handsome face and before you were able to stop yourself, you silenced his hypothesizing by pressing your lips against his open mouth...

...the force of which knocked Poe back a step in utter surprise.

The two of you stopped, transfixed. Poe was impressed because that was a move he would pull. But you? You were mortified.

"Oh...no, Maker. I'm so sorry. I-I didn't mean to. I'm sorry, Commander, please don't - "

"Did you just kiss me?" He gasped, one dark eyebrow shooting up in amused curiosity. But he knew the answer. He could see it all over your adorable, flustered, face - could feel the burn of your fervent gaze.

"I...Commander, I - "

"Poe," he corrected, wetting his lips as he closed the space between you. "You kissed me."

"Poe, I'm sorry," you stammered, your body aflame with embarrassment and desire - the two battling to make you combust.

"I'm not," he breathed, sliding one arm around your waist as his lips covered your own. He licked hotly into your mouth, gripping your hips to pull you flush against the breadth of his chest.

You whimpered into his mouth, your body wilting into his touch as he pushed you up against the nearest wall. Your head hit the solid stone with a bit of a thud, but that didn't slow him down.

"Tell me to stop, and I will," he groaned against your ear, his hands drifting to new territory. A line was being crossed and if you were uncomfortable, he wanted to be sure...

"Don't stop," you panted as his delicious thigh found its way between the spread of your legs. This was quite literally the stuff of your fantasies.

Reaching blindly for his shoulders, to try to somehow steady yourself, you actually moaned just from the feel of his solid muscle pressing right up against your core.

"Baby, why didn't you just say something?" He roughly whispered, toying with the fastening point of your trousers. "I would have done this so long ago."

The whine that worked its way out of your throat as he caught your eye should have been embarrassing. "Can I?"

With a breathless nod, you tried not to make any more humiliating noises as he worked your pants open, sliding his hand inside to cup your soft mound.

"Fuck," he groaned, dragging one long finger over the soft cotton of your panties. "I haven't even touched you and you're already wet. This is for me?"

"All the damn time," you gasped, squirming against his palm to try and force the friction for which you were so desperate.

"Shit, baby," he hissed, his hot breath falling on your ear as his body caged you in. As his fingertips dragged your panties aside, you gripped his biceps for support, hardly able to believe this was really happening.

"I thought this was all in my head. I thought it was only me," he groaned, teasing your folds with frustrating efficiency. "But you're soaked."

You cried out as those tempting fingers eased their way inside. Pushing in deep with a slight curl, Poe beckoned your whole body forward, silencing your whine with the heat of his tongue. His fingers swirled, fingertips massaging the deep core of you - the languid thrust of his tongue inside your mouth synching with the plunging inside you. The slight stretch of it set you on fire.

His muscled thigh came up under his arm, pushing it in deeper and giving you support to fuck yourself down over his hand.

"That's right, baby, take what you need," he groaned, mouthing a trail to the sensitive spot just under your ear.

You felt wild and desired and a little scandalous for doing this in a public area - anyone could walk up and see you, but you didn't care. This scenario had played itself out in your own bed, with your own fingers, a dozen times at least.

"Poe," you whined, grasping the sleeves of his uniform - the very suit you were likely ruining. "Poe, please..."

He growled your name right back, doing the best he could in this position to rut against you too. "You know how long I've waited to hear you say my name like that?"

He didn't give you time to answer - instead pushing his thumb over your swollen bundle of nerves, sending your back arching wildly off the wall as the most desperate cry pushed past your lips.

"Love the sounds you make for me, baby, doing so good." His fingers worked you furiously, catching your little gasps and whimpers in his open mouth, breathing hotly right along with you as you fell apart for him.

The rocking motion of your hips stilled as your hot core coated his hand with your juices. He kissed you again, easing his fingers out of you, leaving you to sigh in overwhelming relief.

"Is this what you're thinking about when we're sparring?" He teased, easing back to grant you that cocky smirk.

"Mm...yes," you lazily nodded, your chest heaving as you came down from the greatest pleasure you'd ever felt. "And you, Commander?" You challenged right back. "Is this what you're thinking about when we're sparring?"

Pulling his bottom lip temptingly between his teeth, he gripped your hips, dragging you against his obvious arousal. "All the damn time."

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yelena-bellova · 2 years ago

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Freedom to Last: A Don’t Be Afraid Miniseries - Chapter One

Chapter One: Interruption

Plot: It’s a perfectly normal day for the Solo-Damerons. Y/n trains her Padawans, gathers her children and comes home, Poe walks through the door after a long day as General. All is as it should be. Monsters always wait for the concealment of night to prey…

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: canon-typical violence, death, blood, one sex joke

A/N: WE’RE BACK!!! I’m so excited to jump into this series and it warms my heart that people are still interested in the DBA universe. I hope this story is just as fun to read as the last one. Unlike DBA, this series will cover more mature themes (violence, kidnapping, imprisonment, etc.) so it’s a more mature teen rating. Small changes have bene made, this now takes place three years after the epilogue of DBA, so a total of 6 years since TROS. I had to go back and read some of the old chapter sto makes ure I got my history right. Anyway, enjoy and let me know what you think!

—————————

Peace had come and peace had stayed.

It felt like a over-simplification to say that peace had just come. Peace had been fought for, willingly and unwillingly. Peace was scarred and bloodstained. But peace shone like a thousand suns and warmed everything in its reach. Peace was worth it, all of it.

I considered peace as I walked amongst my Padawans, who were floating two feet above the ground. Their legs were crossed, their small hands curled against their knees. How they could go from fireballs to perfectly tranquil still amazed me.

The only sounds around us were the soft Naboo winds brushing the high blades of grass, and the occasional fish leaping in and out of the nearby pond. As soon as I ended their exercises, the littlest ones would scurry over to the water and giggle endlessly as they watched his show.

“Alright, students,” I announced, “Return to your starting positions.”

Slowly, and a little rockily, they floated back to the ground. They dusted off their pants and stood to attention.

“That was very good,” I smiled, “Lots of improvement. Remember that to sustain your altitude, you have to fully give yourself over to the Force. It’s not so much forgetting what you’re doing as it is having peace about it.”

“Yes, Master Y/n,” their voices piped up.

“Alright,” I grinned, “Training’s done for the day. I’ll see you back here tomorrow morning.”

Excited conversations broke out in pairs, a few walked back to the temple, and the youngest took off hand in hand for the pond.

“They’re getting better,” Rey called from behind me, leading her own group of Padawans back from their trek.

I walked in her direction, “Aren’t they? How was the hike?”

“You’re all done for the day,” Rey announced to her class, “Remember to hydrate,” she turned back to me, “Very freeing. We’re close to getting to the top of the mountain.”

When Rey and I first established our training center, we thought we might be able to recruit a few younglings and grow over the years. What we got was an influx of young Force-wielders. The First Order’s reign had caused many to conceal their abilities. As they disappeared, so did the fear of being discovered. There were so many students enrolled that we had to split them up between us; Rey took those aged 8-14 and I took 3-7.

“Are you going to see Finn tonight?” Rey asked as we walked back to the temple.

“I wasn’t planning on it,” I said, “Why?”

“I want to lend him one of the texts,” she explained, “He blew through the last one so fast, I thought I’d have more time before he needed this one.”

Finn, the best man of us all, was flourishing. Not only was he co-leading the Resistance, but he was nearing the end of his Jedi training. I had retired from active military service for the purpose of working more with the Force, but he balanced it all perfectly. I was both impressed and slightly envious.

There was also the small case of Finn and Rey and their…whatever it was.

“Give it to me and I’ll have Poe bring it in to him tomorrow,” I shrugged, my expressionless face curling a smirk, “Or you could go and give it to him yourself.”

Rey gave a healthy dose of side eye, “Don’t.”

“What?” I faked innocence.

“That.”

“What ‘that?’”

“That.”

“I just suggested that you go and give our friend the book you’re lending him for his training,” I threw my hands up in surrender, “Though if you were to stay, the sunset’s supposed to be beautiful toni- ow!”

A firm whack of her satchel silenced me. For all of my trying, I’d never get her to own the way her eyes lit up when she was with Finn.

“I’ll bring it right down,” she called, running ahead into the main building.

I took it as an opportunity to appreciate what we’d built. The temple and its grounds were modest, mixing different architectural stlyes to create something uniquely us. The main building was styled after the old temple on Coruscant in the days of the New Republic, when my grandfather would have been a master. But the huts and the stone ground outside were less modern. Rey and I had taken inspiration from Ach-To, the place where both of our Force journeys had taken shape. The whole place felt like home and I was happy our Padawans shared in that feeling.

Judging by the sun’s position, it was time for me to head out for the evening. I started down the stone path that led to the open field, already excited for what awaited me. The closer I got, the more sounds became prominent. High pitched giggles, quick beeps, grass rustling underneath two pairs of feet…each one set my heart alight.

Finally, I got close enough to see the scene. Through the high plains, my two children chased BB-8, with R2 watching from close by.

My babies, their heads covered in dark mops of curls like their father, bounced and toddled through the grass. They shrieked in happiness as BB-8 reversed course and began chasing them. R2 watched them like a nervous mother, ready to intervene at any moment if one of them needed anything. This was exactly how I wanted them growing up; free and full of joy.

“Room for one more?” I called, walking through the field to come join them.

“Mama!” They screamed, runnning at top speed to me. When they reached me, I knelt down and let them topple me over.

“I missed you,” Lyra, my daughter, exclaimed.

“I missed you too,” Jax followed up, never one to be outdone by his sister.

Kisses were pressed to their heads, “I missed you both so much. Ready to go home?”

A resounding chorus of ‘yes’ came.

“R2 and BB come too?” Lyra asked.

“R2’s going to stay here with Aunt Rey,” I explained, R2 hopped between living at our home and the temple, “But Daddy needs BB, so we’ll bring him with.”

They cheered, while I chuckled quietly to myself, “Daddy would fall into a bottomless pit of sadness.”

Rey caught up to us, holding out the Jedi text. “Off you go, without another word,” she ordered me, sweetly changing her tone to address her niece and nephew, “Here’s a game to play on the way home; if Mommy says anything about me or Uncle Finn, scream really loud until she stops.”

Jax and Lyra excitedly bounced up and down before taking off with Bee.

I shot Rey a sarcastic smile, “You’re a gem.”

“And you’re annoying,” she replied with the same smile.

“See you tomorrow,” I called, strolling behind the twins.

“See you then.”

Jax and Lyra chased Bee the whole way back to the Falcon. While my starfighter was precious, it hadn’t been very practical once I started bringing the twins along with me. The Falcon, when not in use by the Resistance, was what I used to fly us the short ten minutes from the temple to our home.

“Can I fly the ship, Mama?” Jax asked as we boarded.

A spitting image of his father, he was the one Dameron whose appetite for adrenaline I had a shot at curbing.

“Not till you’re older, bud,” I said as we made our way to the cockpit.

My body relaxed as soon as I entered the Falcon. Up until Naboo, it was the place I’d lived longest in my life. The twins were growing up in the co-pilot seat, watching both their parents fly the beast.

“Where are our seatbelts?” I began our checklist, a silly little routine I’d come up with to make flying more fun.

“Around our waist,” they answered in unison. We’d also installed seatbelts.

I adjusted a few switches, “Where are our hands?”

“At our sides.”

“Where are our heads?”

“In the sky!”

Smiling proudly, I powered up the ship.“Then let’s gooooo!”

With a round of cheers and hand claps, we lifted off the ground and headed home.

—————————

Upon getting back to our modest homestead, I changed out of my Jedi robes and into my mom clothes. The only piece of the ensemble that always remained with me was my lightsaber, clipped to my belt.

I watched the twins play in the backyard through the floor to ceiling glass windows in the dining room. Poe and I had taken our time taking the house from a bare bones to something beautiful. We finished about half way through my pregnancy, when we got a curveball thrown at us.

Jax.

During the first scan, the doctor was confidant that there was one child and one child only. It was at the seecond one, with Poe anxiously gripping my hand and studying the screen, that the doctor made an announcment. There was a second heartbeat.

There was a moment of panic, we’d have been crazy not to. Two babies. Two cribs. Two sets of screaming 2AM wake up calls. Two bottles. Two of everything. But by the time we got back home, we were overjoyed.

“It’s a good thing, right?” Poe had smiled, “Two little yous.”

“Or two little yous,” I grinned, imagining what our babies may look like.

Poe took my hands, rubbing his thumbs across the skin, “We waited so long for this. I’m not gonna complain that we’re getting more of it than expected.”

It was true. We had waited to start our future until we were in the best possible place. I couldn’t have found true problems with it if I tried…

I shook my head with a smile, “You don’t do anything by half, Dameron.”

“I’m gonna take that as a compliment,” he winked, pulling me into this chest.

My husband had, indeed, won the genetic lottery. The kids, from their hair to their personalitties, were just like their father. It only mattered to me that they were hapy and healthy, but there was a small part of me that hoped they might take on some of my traits as they got older.

I gave birth on the rare rainy Naboo day, the queen having loaned me the royal birthing suite at the hospital. We already had their first names picked out, but made a judgement call as we held them in our arms that night. Poe was squeezed beside me in bed, an arm around my back.

“We gonna do middle names?” Poe asked softly, Lyra dozing against his chest.

“I hadn’t even thought of it,” I never looked up from Jax, admiring the creases in the corners of his eyes, “I mean, I don’t have one. Neither do you.”

Poe inched one shoulder up into a shrug, not wanting to disturb his daughter, “Could be nice to start a tradition.”

“What’d you have in mind?”

He thought for a moment, “What about for Jaxon…Kes and Han?”

“Jaxon Kes Han Solo-Dameron?” I tested the name, “That’s a mouthful.”

“And Lyra Leia Shara Solo-Dameron?”

I tried to laugh quietly, “Poe, that’s five names. And listen to all the ‘a’s.’ She’ll never forgive us.”

“She’s got you as a mom, she’s got Rey as an aunt…I want her to have a piece of our moms to carry with her through life,” Poe whispered, “A’s be darned.”

Smiling and shaking my head, I looked from my husband to my kids. I already knew they was force sensitive, they were already carrying three legacies for three different lineages, the Damerons, the Solos and the Kenobis…

Then I thought about how much I’d have loved to be named after Sola. Perhaps I was named after some relative long passed. Lyra and Jax would never know all their grandparents, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t be connected to them.

“Lyra Leia Shara Solo-Dameron,” I looked back down to Jax, “Jaxon Kes Han Solo-Dameron. Don’t hate us for how we love you.”

Poe snorted, prompting me to join him in a hushed fit of laughter.

Now my overly named children were on their feet every hour of the day, demanding Bee be at their constant beck and call, already asking to fly ships and wield lightsabers. They were everything Poe and I had expected them to be. They were truly Solos and Damerons.

The security system to the house beeped, announcing an incoming ship. I picked up my tablet, though there was no need to. I knew exactly who it was. I just liked seeing the familiar X-Wing fly in every night.

A moment later, the front door opened, and my body was once again put at perfect ease.

“I’m home.”

Nearly seven years together and a decade of knowing one another, and the sound of Poe’s voice still set me on a lovely edge. I looked forward to him coming home each night just as much as I did when we were young commanders, expecting him back from a mission.

And the sight of him…forget about it.

He strolled in, handsome as ever, in his general’s uniform. He’d shaved the beard a while back, when the twins were babies and it became a pain-inflicting form of entertainment to tug on it. The stubble retook its place. There were some grays still coming in on his head, though Poe would never admit it. He wore it all so well, it was almost annoying how perfect he could look without trying.

He wrapped an arm around my waist, pulling me against him. “Hi,” he whispered huskily.

“Hi,” I smiled against the lips that were already coming in hot.

The kiss was sweet and eager, like the ten hours we were apart were just enough to bring him to the line between gentle longing and agony. I took all of it, bracing myself by gripping his collar and melting into his body.

Once we pulled apart, a loopy grin appeared on his face. “How was your day?”

“Good,” I smiled like a lovestruck teenager, “You?”

“Long,” he answered, rubbing his hand up and down my back, “Had a meeting with a couple of the Mon Calamari royalty.”

“Ah, that explains the uniform,” I smoothed out the collar.

Poe tugged at the neck, “It’s suffocating.”

I looked from his lips and back up to his eyes, “It’s hot.”

The signature Poe Dameron smirk made its way across his lips, “Then it’s worth suffering for.”

Without another word, the air changed from electric to soothing. One peck to my lips, a squeeze of my waist and he walked off to the kitchen.

“Did the funding come through?” I asked as I followed him through the house.

“Yeah,” Poe reached into a cabinet and grabbed a glass, “It’s not like we’re launching a full-scale attack or anything. We just need to cover some ship repairs, maybe nab a few from a yard somewhere.”

“If you need me to come throw some weight around, I can,” I came and leaned agaisnt the counter, “My grandfather had good relations with the Mon Calamari, so did Mom.”

Poe drank, his Adam’s apple bobbing with each swallow, before setting the glass down. “I think we got it in the bag, but thank you for reminding me that my wife could do my job in her sleep.”

“Not true,” I shook my head, “You and Finn are doing a great job. Three would just crowd the place up at this point.”

Poe gave a half smile as he leaned over the sink, his mind visibly drifting elsewhere. I could sense his unease.

“What is it?” I asked, getting silence in return. That was serious. “I can already feel there’s something you’re not telling me, so there’s no point in hiding.”

Poe scrunched his face up, “But I’m getting better at it?”

I spared a fake laugh and scooted closer, our shoulders brushing. “Come on...”

“There’s been a few…” he sighed, “I don’t even know what to call them. Attacks, I guess, working their way through the systems.”

It wasn’t totally shocking, I’d seen on the Holonet that in the Outer Rim, a few Imperial and First Order disciples had attacked local businesses. Theft, arson, while awful, were still classified as minor compared to what crimes had been committed during the war.

“I read about the Rattatak one earlier today. And Felucia.”

“That’s the thing,” Poe sighed, “They seem to be working their way through the systems, starting with the Outer Rim and working their way in. They just attacked Kashyyyk today. Chewie’s there now checking things out and offering help.”

“Wait, so why is this being kept quiet?” I asked, “I didn’t read anything about Kashyyyk.”

Poe rubbed his hands over his face, “Because technically it’s not something to worry about yet. It’s not an uprising, it’s a bunch of kids thinking they know how to run a galaxy. In an ideal world, it just wouldn’t be happening. I don’t have jurisdiction anywhere where they’re happening, the Resistance barely has any pull on those planets. They’re tying my hands.”

It was then I realized I couldn’t remember a time where I didn’t think like a military strategist. Maybe when I was young, but as soon as Mom had started taking me to senate hearings, I was long gone.

“Are we sending relief?” I continued.

“Of course,” Poe answered, “I sent Chewie with orders to give them whatever they need.”

I shrugged, “Then I guess that’s all we do at this point. We did clean up for so long, there’s always a group who thinks they can do it better than the last guys. Nothing ever comes from it.”

“Yeah,” Poe quietly said, “I know.”

I wrapped my arms around his shoulders and leaned into his back, he held onto my wrists.

“It’s a waste of time thinking about it, but,” Poe paused turning his head towards me, “I wish there’d never been a war.”

It was a thought I’d had nearly every day since the fight had begun. Had there been no war, I’d have never lost precious years with my brother, I’d have never lost my parents, my uncle, hood friends…I’d have become a completely different person.

Jax’s scream of his sister’s name, followed by a round of laughter broke me out of my head.

Had there been no war, Poe and I would have never crossed paths. I’d have never been stranded on Jakku and met Rey and Finn. I’d have never been led to Ach-To and learned my heritage. I’d have never married Poe. I’d have never given birth to Jax and Lyra.

“I do too,” I replied, getting to my tiptoes and pressing my lips to his ear, “But something beautiful was born from it.”

I kissed his temple softly and Poe stroked his hand across my arm. We watched through the windows as our kids played in the grass. Soon, they’d realize that it was long past the time their father came home and run inside to greet him. Dinner would be had, leftovers tonight, and the table would be filled with laughter. Poe and I would tuck them in, give plenty of hugs and kisses, before retiring to our own room. We’d fall asleep in each other’s arms as we always had, and life would continue on just how it had for the past three years…

—————————

*BEEP BEEP BEEEEEEP*

The emergency communication signal through our bedroom. I woke first, looking to Poe’s nightstand but realizing the noise was coming from both of ours. That never happened.

“Poe,” I slurred, shaking my husband’s arm, “Poe, wake up.”

“What,” he exclaimed, clearing his throat after.

“Comms,” I rolled over and picked up my device, “This is Y/n.”

“Y/n,” Rose Tico called, “The base is under attack. We need you and Poe here now.”

My heart came to a grinding halt, “What?”

“We’re being invaded, we need help.”

Without another thought, I jumped out of bed, “We’re on our way.”

Poe was just finishing his conversation as well, throwing the covers off and grabbing his pants from the floor.

“What the hell?” He mumbled as he threw his clothes on.

I frantically ran to throw a tunic on over my camisole. I threw my hand out and used the Force to retrieve my lightsaber. Though my mind was inflamed with worry, my thinking were still clear.

“3PO!” I yelled, rushing out the bedroom and into the hall, “3PO!”

“Yes, Mistress Y/n,” the protocol droid came waddling in, “How may I-“

“Protect the kids,” I ordered, “The base is under attack.

“Oh, my goodness-“

Any other comments went unheard, I was already out the front door with Poe skidding behind.

“Take the fighters,” he called.

We sprinted around the edge of our house to where the ships were parked. Poe’s X-Wing and my starfighter sat next to one another, waiting for their next call to action.

I unlatched the cockpit and hopped in, not even bothering to fasten my seatbelt but making a point of putting on my headset to communicate with Poe.

“All set?” He rang in my ear.

“Ready,” I reported, the hum of the ship’s innards coming to life. I don’t think I’d ever gotten it in the air quicker.

The ten minute flight seemed to take hours. The closer we got, the clearer the smoke trails were. The base was ablaze.

“You seeing this?” I asked, it was an obvious question but I was dumbstruck.

“I see it,” Poe answered.

We finally neared base, miniature sized bodies scattering in and out of the building. Poe and I landed in the outer part of the hanger, the one area that didn’t seem to be under attack yet.

As soon as I leapt out of my cockpit, smoke hit my nostrils. Blasterfire and screams rang through the air. It took me straight back to the war.

“Let’s go,” Poe yelled, pulling me back to the present.

Extending my lightsaber, the two of us ran towards the back entrance through the hanger. The hallways were pure chaos. Resistance personnel ran hunched over, dodging blaster fire from the invaders. As one woman ran past us, her attacker came chasing after her a second later. Poe, wielding a blaster, landed a shot to his chest.

“Get to the med bay,” I ordered the woman, turning to Poe, “We have to find Finn.”

We took off down the next hall, the various ones around it bringing a stream of cries for help. They’d attacked the halls of the non-combat personnel first, it seemed. It made sense, wipe out all the easy targets first.

Poe and I began to return their attack one by one, my lightsaber slashing through blasters and sticking itself in the chests of the opposing team. Poe and I went back to back at one of the hubs, wiping our separate halls out. It didn’t matter how long it had been since we’d fought together, we were a perfectly oiled machine.

Eventually, we got to the main hall where the offices were. In the distance, I spotted a dark figure landing punches and taking shots.

“Finn!” I called out.

His head perked up, “Y/n!”

Poe and I sprinted down the hall, taking out a few of the invaders on our way.

“What the hell happened?” I asked while dodging a blast.

“They came out of nowhere,” Finn replied, twisting a man’s arm and pulling, causing a sick crack, “Security didn’t even catch them.”

Poe pushed me down to the ground, saving me from a near fatal shot, and fired back. While on my knees, I used the Force to pull a few men to the ground, landing roundhosue kicks once I was back on my feet. I swung my lightsaber around to stab though the shoulder of one who was aiming at Poe.

“Coming at you!” Finn yelled in my direction.

I whipped around and he Force launched his attacker toward me. Spinning, I slashed my lightsaber through his abdomen and shoved him to the ground.

Once we’d eliminated everyone in our hall, we took off toward the center of the base. Inside the war room, there were several Resistance member clutching their wounds and trying to help one another.

“We gotta get out front,” Poe said, “See where they’re coming from.”

We made a beeline for the main entrance where the majority of the blasterfire was coming from. Our soldiers were holding a defensive line to try and keep anyone else from getting in. Poe took up position with them while Finn and I slipped out the side. I dodged blaster fire with my lightsaber and used the Force to knock over one half of the offensive. It gave our team the opportunity to ground most of them. Once the rest of our attackers realized that they had greatly underestimated our numbers, they began to retreat back to their ships.

There was a moment of shocked silence after they left. The noise inside had died down, it seemed like a collective call had been made to leave. In the distance, I could see the Naboo fire and rescue team flying in, ready to take down the flames.

Poe got up from his spot and came to me and Finn, throwing his arms around me. The power of fear that came with fighting was something I’d forgotten.

“Let’s get inside,” he led, “Assess the damage.”

The three of us grabbed three gas masks to help with smoke inhalation and walked the halls. We helped the injured get to the med bay and checked to make sure the bodies strewn weren’t wearing Resistance colors. Sadly, we’d lost at least a dozen.

“You notice anything about these guys?” I asked, looking at one with a lightsaber hole through his chest.

“What do you mean?” Finn asked.

I looked down the rest of the hall, all the intruders wore matching grey uniforms. Similar to what Imperials used to wear during Palpatine’s reign.

“They’re all uniformed,” I answered, nudging the man’s boot with mine.

Poe and Finn looked around them, confirming what I’d said.

“This wasn’t random like Felucia or Kashyyyk,” I continued, “This was coordinated.”

“Guys,” Rose called breathlessly from the end of the hall, “You gotta come see this.”

The three of us followed her to the growing crowd of personnel all staring at something. Getting closer, I could see they were surrounding a body. I couldn’t have imagined what I’d see when the people parted for us.

A woman in a lieutenant’s uniform with her chest slashed open, blood pooling in her lap. A crimson stained paper was tagged to her shoulder. I had to kneel down, the mask barely shielding me from the smell, to read what it said.

‘DEATH TO THE RESISTANCE. LONG LIVE THE NEW EMPIRE.’

I unpinned the note from the dead woman’s jacket, the only dignity I could give her. My eyes didn’t leave her lifeless face as I handed the paper up to Poe and Finn. Their stunned silence matched mine.

The communicator in the pocket of my sweatpants went off, I blindly pulled it out and switched it on.

“Yeah?” I said, the syllable barely leaving my lips.

“Y/n,” Rey called over, “What’s going on? I can see the smoke from here.”

I took the first breath I could actually feel since waking up. “There was an attack,” I stated, my eyes still staring at the woman’s soulless eyes, “We’re okay.”

“What happened? Who was it?”

I pivoted to look up at Poe and Finn, who were just as confused as I was. Yet even with so little information, it all made perfect sense. None of the attacks had been random. They were part of something much bigger. Something that was heading straight towards us.

—————————

Freedom to Last Taglist: @mads-weasley

Poe Dameron Taglist: @lostinwonderland314 @theliterarymess @maybeimart @x-judyjude-x @dindjarinsspouse @generousrunawaydonut @sugarpunch-princess @morganlefaye13 @pancakefancake

#poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron x solo!reader #poe dameron x female reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x reader #freedom to last

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the-force-awakens · 2 years ago

Text

Two Birds, One Stone

Pairing: poe dameron/f!reader (no pronouns) Rating: explicit Word Count: 4.3k Warnings: smut (18+ only): fingering, oral (m receiving) unprotected piv, alcohol consumption (both parties are sober tho), friends to lovers, one night stand (or is it?) A/N: I have no idea why this concept burrowed into my head the way it did or how I ended up almost writing 5k of it but??? here we are.

You glance around the rec room - Snap and Karé making eyes at each other in the corner, Tallie and Paige already making out at another table - then back at Poe who is staring studiously ahead following his unintentional slip up that he's frustrated in a very particular kind of way, and wraps his lips around the bottle of coruscant cooler he bribed Yolo for.

And it's gotta be the sip you've taken of your drink that makes you blurt, out of the blue, "There's me.”

His entire frame goes carefully rigid, enough so that you almost want to take the words back — almost but not quite. Poe lowers his drink slowly, casting you a skeptical look. "What?”

You shift slightly, giving him a casual shrug. "I said there's me. I'm not under your command, no reason for you to feel guilty. And -” despite the brazen nature of your suggestion, you feel warmth climb up your neck to your face - "it's been a while for me too. Two birds, one stone. Well - one dick, I guess.”

His eyebrows had nearly shot up to his hairline, but they lower now, something shifting in his expression as he studies yours. "You're serious?”

At this, you can't help but feel a little offended and you don't bother disguising that as you reply, "No, I just decided to screw with you about screwing you - yes, I'm being serious.”

He snorts at that, pushes away his bottle and turns in his seat, looking around the room before his gaze lands back on yours, a gentle heat building in his eyes that makes you falter and wonder if you've made a terrible mistake in suggesting this. "You know how many people we're going to hear an 'I told you so' from if they find out?”

You grin, leaning forward and daring to place your hand high on his thigh, enough that Poe's breath audibly hitches. “Do you really care what they have to say if it means getting off tonight?”

"I - uh - nope," he lands on empathically, popping the 'p' as he slides off his bar stool, offering you his hand to help you down off yours. It's sweet and he's done it a million times - but now it makes your heart trip over itself. "You sure about this?”

You are, in the sense that you know you want this. But what you're not so sure about is if it's a good idea, when his sheepish smile and crinkled eyes alone give you butterflies. Knowing his body intimately like you've suggested seems like playing with fire.

"Yeah. You?” Because he hasn't actually said yet, though you know he wouldn't have budged if he hadn't made his mind up already - if it wasn't a yes, he'd still be at the bar.

"Surer than I've ever been," Poe replies with a crooked grin, squeezing your hand slightly and - yeah. This was a really fucking bad idea.

But you also really don't care.

You wonder if Poe can feel you watching him the entire walk back to his quarters. Nothing about the trek back seems significant yet at the same time incredibly surreal: you know where he keeps his flimsiplast blueprints of classic starfighter models hidden away for safe keeping, the name of that really naughty erotic romance novel he secretly loves even though the ending made him cry, you've curled up in his bed watching horror movies while he used you as a human shield and peering at the screen from behind your shoulder (which you found particularly endearing, considering how daring he is in every other facet of life, and also because it warms you from the inside out that he trusts you to protect him).

And now you're going to know what it's like to have him spread out against his mattress, flushed and panting underneath you. The thought sends desire zipping down your back so intense that for the first time since leaving the rec room, you drop your eyes away from Poe - something like guilt surfacing over the thick wave of arousal at the fantasy you've conjured. Is it really wrong to think about it when it's about to be a reality?

You're yanked out of your thoughts by the soft beeps of Poe punching in the code to his room - Leia's birthday - and the pneumatic hiss of the door sliding open. His smile is genuine and earnest as he motions you to go in first.

It's surprisingly clean, cleaner than it'd been the night before last when you'd unceremoniously dropped onto his bed complaining about Laszlo being a dick during your shift (though there was never a time when he wasn't a dick) — so you assume Poe must've found the time and energy to tidy this morning before his patrol, or BB-8 did. Speaking of which -

“Where's Bee?” You ask as Poe steps in after you, the door sliding close behind him. Though you don't turn around, you sense him moving closer - slowly, like he's either trying to work out his next move or if he's not sure when you're supposed to begin.

"He wanted to spend some time with the astromech pool,” Poe answers, giving in and lightly dragging his knuckles down the length of your bare arm, leaving gooseflesh in his wake. "Probably won't be back until later.”

"Lucky,” you breathe, heart rate picking up already because he's never touched you like this before. You were used to being touched by him because Poe was incredibly tactile and affectionate, but those had all been fleeting because despite his touchy nature, Poe didn't linger.

He's lingering now, though, stepping close enough you can nearly feel his chest against your back. He flexes his hand out, lets his palm slide back up as he replies, "Yeah, luck seems to be going around tonight.”

Ordinarily you'd have rolled your eyes - hell, the temptation to do it is so instinct you nearly do, but it's overpowered by how the sincerity of his voice makes you melt.

And melting is really not ideal. Neither is the way your traitorous knees already want to buckle just from this, from his close proximity that's still nowhere near close enough to sate you — either of you, really.

You turn slowly around, breath catching low in your chest as you finally get a glimpse of Poe's face, of the unmasked want darkening his features and his eyes, which unabashedly rake over your frame like he's been waiting for permission to do so for a while.

The thought that maybe he wants you almost as bad as you want him makes you clench your thighs together, and soothes some of the sting of the thought simmering in the back of your head which is that you want more than one night of this.

No, that's not quite it either.

You want this, you want - need - to know what it's like to have him inside you, to hear him moan your name, watch him unravel; you wouldn't take back your offer now and you're sure as hell not going to regret it later, not when Poe is looking down promisingly at you like that.

You want him in every single way you can have a person and it terrifies you because you've never felt like that for anyone — because sex has always just been a bit of fun for you, a way to stop thinking, to feel good.

But it already feels like so much more than that right now. You feel like by inviting yourself into his bed, you've cracked open your ribcage so that all the love you've been hiding can spill out.

"Can I kiss you?” Poe asks, deadly serious as he zeroes in on your mouth, before flicking up to meet your eyes - searching for any sign of hesitance.

"Please.” It comes out breathier and a little more desperate than you meant for, but you don't think you can wait any longer. And it seems like Poe's patience has run out as well, because he surges forward, pulling you flush against him as he cups your face, kisses you hard.

You open your mouth to him, groan when he slides his tongue in, when his blazing hot hand meets bare skin as your shirt lifts up when you go to wrap your arm around his shoulders, pulling him closer, your other hand sliding up his stubbled jaw — it prickles against your palm and you moan again, thinking of what it'd feel like against your thighs.

Poe nudges you forward, keeping you steady as he walks you backwards to his bunk - like you don't already have the layout to his room memorized, you're in it more than your own - and you're struck with three simultaneous realizations at once:

Poe Dameron was as good at kissing as he was flying

You probably could have done this without kissing him at all, kept this impersonal, kept some line in the sand of your relationship with him

You were about to have sex with your best friend.

And some-fucking-how the least terrifying on the list was the third one.

You break apart from each other slowly, exchanging a weighted look that's filled to the brim of unsaid things and emotions clawing their way to the surface like a drowning man desperate for air; Poe's cheeks are already flushed and when he shifts closer, you feel his hard length pressing against the seam of his trousers.

Taking a step back from him, you toe off your boots, immediately knocking them aside and out of the way with your ankle as Poe kicks his off. As he shucks his jacket off, you peel your shirt up and over your head — and are immediately rewarded with the sound of Poe inhaling sharply because you didn't wear a bra tonight.

You don't normally, the weight of the straps often giving you migraines, so you usually opt for tank tops underneath: you hadn't worn one tonight, hadn't made an effort to be remotely put together because your plans had involved having a drink with Poe and then crashing for the night after such a long day - which, technically speaking, nothing about that has changed.

You sit down on the edge of the mattress, which is a bad idea because it puts you at eye-level where his trousers are tented. Before you can talk yourself out of it, you're reaching for him, undoing his belt with nimble fingers.

"What are you - oh fuck -” Poe sucks in a sharp breath as you yank down his trousers and underwear in one quick motion, revealing his thick cock. It's curved up, towards his tummy, and already leaking precum.

You pull him closer, fingernails digging probably too harshly into his thighs. You glance up at him under your eyelashes, find him staring at you with dark, frantic eyes as his chest heaves. He's already unraveling and you've barely begun. The thought does very little to help the gathering dampness in your underwear, but it sure motivates you into returning your focus to the task at hand.

You don't immediately go for his dick though - instead you lean in, pressing your nose against the soft skin of his thigh, ghosting your lips across it and you're struck with the exigent need to mark him. Which shouldn't be on the table, it shouldn't. But the thought of leaving behind evidence of tonight on his body, one that he won't be able to ignore, that will remain for a day or two and that he'll have to look at in the shower or when he dresses or (hopefully) when he gets himself off — makes something thrash in self-satisfaction behind your ribcage.

Something that's immediately replaced with a wave of disappointment: you don't have any claim on him, even if you know him better than anyone else in the galaxy. Even if you're a little bit hopelessly in love with him.

So instead of pinching his skin between your teeth, you move further up to his neglected cock and lick a long, slow swipe up the underside of his shaft, which makes Poe gasp roughly, his head tipping back and exposing his throat.

Scratch that. You're completely and utterly gone for your best friend, no ‘little bit’ about it. Which, again, is not ideal so you shove the thought away angrily and take it out on Poe by swallowing him down.

What you can't take in your mouth, you wrap your fist around, jerking him off at the same time that you savor the weight and taste of him on your tongue, every groan and whimper that falls from his lips.

It doesn't feel like it's been long at all when his hips buck harshly into your mouth and you hear him swear, bitten off. He grabs your hair, pulling you off abruptly, his breathing erratic as he releases his grip on you, rubbing your skull apologetically with his thumb. "Not gonna last if you keep that up, maker fuck, you're good at that.”

"Oh, did you underestimate how good I'd be?” You retort, scooting backwards on the bed when Poe gestures for you to, giving him room to crawl in after you.

"No.” It's a surprisingly clipped answer, and there's a weight to it that gives you pause, trying to search his shadowed face for a deeper meaning because for once in his life, Poe isn't saying something.

But before you can ask another question, he's ducking in to kiss you again, slowly as he settles over you, gently pushing until you're supine on your back, his body covering yours as he braces himself on his elbow so as to keep his full weight off you (not that you'd really mind), while letting his hand slide down to your neck, his thumb settling in at the dip of your throat and maker fuck that shouldn't feel so good.

He wedges one thigh between your legs, grinding up and you nearly choke, whining his name against his lips - which has the delightful side effect of making Poe groan, bucking against you before having the audacity to pull his thigh back away from your core.

He tears his mouth away from yours, the hand that was around your throat sliding down your bare torso, stopping to thumb the underside of your nipple which has you arching up into his touch carelessly, eyelids fluttering shut so you miss his brief, pleased smile before he works his hand between your bodies.

Poe pushes aside your underwear, dipping one finger inside you to the knuckle, making you both moan. "Gods, you're wet,” he sounds like he can't believe it, even though you can both hear the slickness as he drags his finger slowly around. "All this just from getting me off, baby?”

The endearment falls off his lips easily and without thought but it makes you clench down around him subconsciously as your mind grapples with the fact that this is actually happening, that his calloused finger is pressing up against your slick walls.

The realization thuds around your brain like an echoing drum, intensifying when he slides another finger in. The stretch is slow, stings a little because it's been a while since anyone's fingers but yours were down there, and Poe's are decidedly thicker.

Longer too, evidently, because he's reaching a place that has sparks appearing behind your eyes, something sharp, full and hot building low in your stomach. You rock into his hand, nodding wordlessly as you try to chase your own high. "All for you," you hear yourself say, high-pitched and barely familiar to your own ears.

“All for - gods,” his voice breaks down into something nonsensical as his fingers slide deeper inside, grinding against your walls and crooking back towards himself in a way that leaves the entire world muffled around you, your mouth dropping when he leans back on his knees, using his other hand to give attention to your neglected clit. "All for me," he murmurs again, incredulous while you whine and squirm, openly admiring your wrecked expression. "You gonna come for me, too?”

The combination of being stuffed full of his fingers, his clever ministrations against your clit and his makerdamned voice is enough to — you're not even sure what happens. You cum but it's nothing like anything that's happened before: instead of crashing over the edge and losing temporary awareness of your body, it's like you've surfaced from the deepest part of the ocean and are sucking in greedy lung-fulls of air, no longer crushed down by the unforgiving current pressure.

Your whole body is trembling when Poe slowly removes his fingers, transfixed at the sight between your legs — before his eyes trail back to his fingers, which gleam in the low light with the thick evidence of your climax. He brings them up to his mouth, sucking away the residue: his eyes roll back like they do when his taste buds go alight with something you've baked together in the kitchens, an appreciative noise rumbling up his chest and going straight to your core as he drops his hand.

He seems wrought with indecision for a moment - you can tell by the way his brow furrows, his tongue darting out to swipe along his bottom lip that he's thinking, considering his options while situated between your thighs.

You're too impatient for that: you breathe out his name, reaching for him and it breaks his reverie. He's back over you in an instant, kissing you again, parts long enough to murmur, "You taste so good.”

His praise makes you groan, and you drag him down to kiss him again, fingernails scraping his scalp - which he seems to like by the way he jerks into you with a gasp, reminding you of just how badly want him inside you.

"Poe, come on -”

"Anyone ever tell you you're impatient?” Poe asks around a grin, but he obeys anyway (which makes your brain light up with interest), and strokes himself roughly, going to line up with your entrance.

You snarf at that. “Yeah, you have - repeatedly. Last I checked you weren't any better.”

He notches the head of his cock against you and your breath stalls, grip tightening in his hair as Poe slowly sinks in another few inches.

"I'm patient about - hnngh - some things,” he says, face pinched as he unexpectedly stops. He's not even halfway in yet and already you feel unbearably full. You can't imagine what it'll be like when he's in all the way. "The important things - those I'm - fuck you're soft and -”

He makes another wordless noise of appreciation, hands gripping your thighs so tightly that you know there will be bruises there later - and, oh, how that makes your stomach corkscrew with desire.

You exhale shakily, slacken your hold on his curls, try to summon the energy to speak, to help him breathe through it — he said it's been awhile since the last time he was with anyone, after all. “What are you patient about? Not the first cup of caf, I can tell you that.”

He huffs a noise that might be a laugh, moving just that much deeper inside of you. Poe's eyes are squinched shut, eyelashes long and dark against the tips of cheekbones. “I - this - been waitin' for this - been -” his sentence fades in a shared synchronized moan between the two of you as he sinks in fully, his cock disappearing inside of you.

If it's possible to be cock drunk instantly, you wonder if you aren't now, because everything feels heady and light as you adjust to the feel of him, his words bouncing around in your head but not quite sticking. You clench around him unintentionally and Poe swears, dropping his head to your shoulder.

Belatedly, you realize he's still rambling — you open your mouth to start to interrupt, tell him he can move now, when he says, "This is so better than I imagined it'd be, you feel so good, you -”

He stops abruptly, going as carefully still as he had in the rec room, this time because he can feel you tense beneath him. Slowly, Poe lifts his head up from your shoulder, dark brown eyes flicking between yours panickedly, "It - I just - I meant -”

You press your finger to his lips, stopping him from going on another spiel and - for good measure - you let your other hand slide around the curve of his back to keep him in place, in case he gets the idea of pulling out of you following his unintentional bombshell.

"It's better than I thought it'd be too,” you tell him softly, trailing your fingertip down his kiss-swollen lips as your heart pounds. You know Poe better than anyone, better than yourself, yet there's still a seed of anxiety sprouting in the back of your mind that you're misunderstanding him, that he did just mean it's better than he thought it would be back at the bar.

You ignore it, forging ahead to confess, "I just wish it was for more than one night.”

Poe pushes up on his elbow in surprise. The sudden movement tips the angle of your hips, so that he pushes in even deeper, the tip of him hitting some sweet spot that has your stomach flipping.

It also means that his face is caught between pleasure and revelation, which is a funny mix but it just softens his countenance to the point that affection swells up your throat: you love him so much that it isn't fair.

"Doesn't have to be if you don't want it to,” Poe says, shyness creeping into his voice. It's rare, hearing that from him - you're so used to his confidence that the absence of it is so stark and surreal you nearly forget how you ended up in this conversation.

"I want every night with you, every morning. I want you. Not just like this - though, this is -” experimentally, you lift yourself up, grinding into him and making you both groan - "good, this is really fucking good. I want…want you. All of you.”

You don't realize you've closed your eyes until Poe taps you lightly on your sternum: when you blink them back open, he's smiling softer than you've ever seen him. “You have me, you've had me for a long time. Maker, I've wanted you so bad -” he laughs, rakes his free hand through his hair - "didn't expect to tell you like this though.”

And you can't help but laugh too, because everything is backwards and completely perfect too. You hitch your leg up around his hip, pressing the heel off your foot against the small of his back, opening yourself up to him. “Somehow I can't imagine it happening any other way…but do you think we could reconvene on laughing at how ridiculous we are later and get back to the fucking now?”

"Yeah, I can do that.” Poe leans back down, grinning broadly as his lips find yours, kissing you long and slow as he finally pulls out, thrusting back in with a lazy grind, letting you feel every vein and ridge of his cock drag against your walls.

"Oh - just like that - more -” you break off as Poe tilts his head, licking into your mouth, tongue slick against yours as he snakes one hand between your bodies to thumb at your clit while he continues his devastating slow pace.

Slow but hard, snapping up into you just like you want, adding just enough force at the apex of each thrust that you see stars, electricity zipping up your spine as the throbbing between your legs crests —

Your thighs tense around Poe as you come, his name a jagged noise on your tongue as you cling to him through the haze, trying to catch your breath even as Poe continues to rut into you, desperate for his own release.

He's well beyond words now, reduced to grunts and the occasional whimper, clutching your knee - rubbing the bump of bone absently with his thumb, even as he chases his own high.

Eager to help him get there, you slide your hands back into his hair like he seemed to like earlier, tugging on his curls as you lean in and knock your mouths together in a messy kiss, trying to meet his thrusts with your own, clenching weakly around him.

It's when you tug on his bottom lip that Poe finally comes, spilling inside of you for what feels simultaneously like lightyears and mere seconds, dropping his head against the curve of your neck as he lets go of your leg so you can straighten it out finally.

He doesn't pull out immediately and you're glad, gladder still when Poe wedges his arms around your back, drawing you closer - kisses your sweaty skin at your collarbone. The kind of sleepy, thoughtless affection you've been dreaming of for years.

Eventually after a while of luxuriating in the honey-like bliss that's enveloped you both as you come down from your respective highs, Poe perches his chin in the valley of your breasts, which makes the juxtaposition of his serious face all the stranger as he studies you. "I love you - is that okay?”

There's a million and one ways you've imagined him saying those three words to you, and a million and one ways you've imagined responding to them.

In this one, you knock your knee against his ribs, grinning crookedly when you reply, “Only if it's okay that I love you too,” before tugging him up to kiss his smiling mouth again - because you can.

And not just tonight. You'll get to kiss him in the morning when you wake up together, still entwined together, and again before his next patrol; you get to have him not for just one night, but for every night, as long as you both want.

You wrap your arms around him, hugging his warm body to your own as sleep begins to pull you both under, his weight a comfortable pressure against you, leaving you utterly content.

This, you decide sleepily, was single handedly the best idea you've ever had.

#poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron smut #myfic

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madhattervanessa · 2 years ago

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Kinktober 2022 - #16

Kinks: Breathplay, Piercing Play

Words: 1069

Pairing: Poe Dameron x f!Reader

This concludes 2022‘s Kinktober! I am so happy I was able to participate this year, I feel like I have really improved throughout this challenge alone and found some new faith in my own skills I guess- I’ll work on a big masterpost for all of the Kinktober drabbles and hopefully I’ll be able to keep some momentum from this to post some of the stuff I have been writing on this year.

Thanks for reading!

Kinktober Masterlist

It’s been months since Poe had been able to touch you- the rebellion had been moving you off base before you were able to set foot on the metal sheeted floors more times than he can count. It’s been too long.

You had been back for two days now and Poe might have pulled some strings and call in some favors - but he had to see you.

When he finally bursts through your door, you’re watching some movie on the holo screen propped up beside you, a bag of chips he keeps hidden underneath his bunk in your left hand.

You grin at him when you register his presence.

“Hey, hotshot.”

He’s at your side immediately, fumbling with his boots while he grabs your chin and kisses you with a muttered “hello baby”, followed by a “missed you”. As soon as his boots hit the ground, he climbs over you and grabs the bag of chips out of your hand, discarding them on the floor.

You hum against his lips and lift your hand to tangle it in his hair that has grown long, the thick curls almost blocking his eyesight. He groans, his hands carefully trailing over your neck and you can’t help the arousal immediately clawing at your spine.

There’s a hint of stubble that rubs against your cheek as he kisses the corner of your mouth, up to your cheek and you giggle as he kisses your eyebrow before he sits back.

You laugh when he pulls you into his lap, never breaking the kiss as he moves the two of you.

“I really missed you, too… and I have a surprise”, you murmur against his lips.

He hums and the half lidded look makes you wet your lips.

You grab the hem of your shirt and Poe leans back - by the looks of it, he already has a smart remark at the ready. However, when your shirt falls to the ground, he just stares, completely dumbstruck.

“Surprise, baby”, you murmur and pull his hands towards your nipples but he hesitates, pulling your hands towards his own chest. His eyes flick back and forth between your face and your chest.

“Wait- wait, are they healed already? Are you sure I can touch them?”, he murmurs and you laugh before leaning in to kiss his nose.

“Yes they are healed, Poe. Don’t worry.”

He licks over his lips and gently cups your breasts before his thumbs brush over the metal bars. Your breath hitches and you feel him twitch in his flight suit.

You squirm in his lap as he keeps touching them, pushing the tip of his fingers underneath the bars to lift, tilt and fumble with them. You try your best to keep still but his ministrations send jolts of pleasure through your body. He tilts his chin up towards you and your breaths mingle.

“Can I put my mouth on them?”

You nod, your breath stuck in your throat. He leans down immediately, his hot tongue gently curving around one of the metal bars. You let your head fall back, the foreign sensation taking all of your focus. Poe drapes one of his arms over your back to keep you still as he sucks at your nipple. His tongue plays with the metal, slowly warming it. You tightly grasp his shoulders. The wet want between your legs increases and you’re already about to start begging.

“Poe- that feels amazing-”, you manage and you moan as he sits back to gently blow some air over the spit covering your nipple before he moves on to the next. As he leans into you more, you lean back into his other arm, the pressure verging on something too overwhelming as the pleasure builds. His other hand smooths over the middle of your chest, up, pressing the warm palm of his hand over your neck and gently pulling you back towards him. You raise a hand to hold on to his wrist as his fingers find their place on your neck.

He detaches his mouth from your nipple and you breathe a sigh of relief, though the rough pad of his thumb follows to keep you arching against him.

He kisses you, just barely licking into your mouth and you’re about to catch your breath as he carefully staves off your air supply.

You meet his eye through your barely opened lids and see his brows drawn together, his full focus on you as he watches.

You feel yourself grow dizzy and your grip around his wrist tightens - the pressure seizes almost immediately and you gasp for breath, your limited supply immediately being cut off again.

You squirm, the sensations racking up to something big and you feel a tear slip out of your eye as he puts his mouth back on your nipple - it’s when his teeth scrape over your nipple that you jump and you feel a strange tension building in your chest.

It’s maddening, the pull and push of his hands, the warmth, wetness of his tongue. He turns one of the bars in your nipples and the slow drag of metal against the skin makes your thighs tense over his.

You feel dizzy, like you are floating, almost fainting and somewhere you register being moved, up and down, the drag of Poe’s hard cock underneath all of the layers. You light up with need as he nudges against your clit.

The tension in your chest suddenly swallows you whole and you shudder with a confused whine as it works its way through you, the lack of oxygen thankfully preventing a scream for the whole base to hear as you cum.

You gasp, your mouth falling open and the grip on your throat ceases. As the rush of your orgasm flickers to an end, the whoosh of air in your lungs makes you shiver.

You sag against Poe’s body and he cradles your head against his shoulders, forcing himself to sit still as he soothes you with gentle caresses, the hypnotic drag of his warm hand up and down your spine.

When you finally manage to collect some sense, you press a kiss to his cheek and he turns, a soft smile on his lips as he wipes some sweat from your brow, his eyes tender.

“Hey, baby.”

You sigh happily and lift a hand to brush a sweaty curl from his forehead.

“Hey, hotshot.”

#kinktober #kinktober2022 #kinktober 2022 #poe dameron #poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you

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psychedelic-ink · 2 years ago

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kinktober '22 ║XXI

pairing: poe dameron x f!reader

genre: smut, minors dni

word count: 2.3k

summary: you and poe fin yourself on a pumpkin infested planet, however the flowers that surround them seem to be poisonous.

warnings: sex pollen, outdoors, piv, oral (receiving), creampie, tensions running high, multiple orgasm (reader), mild overstimulation, lil bit of blood from biting

a/n: welcome to my very firs poe fic! I'm not sure how this turned out since it's been a long time since I watched his movies but I wanted to write something very horny for him so this was born! ❤️‍🔥

MLISTS . LIBRARY. TAGLIST . KINKTOBER '22

The air is crisp, fallen orange leaves crunching beneath your heavy boots as you walk further away from the ship, Poe’s string of curses falling on to deaf ears. You can feel the cold despite your orange flight suit. There’s something eerie, yet beautiful about the planet you spontaneously had to land upon. The trees are a brilliant shade of umber and completely bare, you see pumpkins bursting through the soil like fresh daisies. They come in all shades of orange, the smaller ones hidden beneath the fallen leaves.

A gust of cold air blows and you hear the soft rustling of petals, looking down you see small flowers filling the voids between the pumpkins. They’re equally as orange; the veins of the petals are a bright shade of green. You stop at the edge of the cliff, looking down at the pumpkin patch. So pretty. Suddenly an overwhelming need to drink water consumes you, you swallow as a vain attempt to suppress the thirst. Your right foot dangles off the edge, it doesn't feel like a cliff anymore, it feels like you can step on air and reach the breathtaking flora. A wide smile slowly makes its way throughout your face, you’re about to take a step forward–

“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”

Poe’s grip around your wrist stings, he yanks you back, your body falling to the humid soil. You blink heavily, the daze you were in dissipating due to the impact.

You notice Poe on the edge, the next thing you know he’s gone.

You lunge forward, knees scrubbing the dirt into your skin. His name is etched to your lips as you scream for him. Reaching the edge, you carefully peer down, scared of what you might see. Luckily the pumpkins and flowers had broken his fall, his heavy body had squished the fruit, making a mess of his flight suit. With a hand on his head, he groans, eyes blearily looking up to you.

“Are you okay?” you ask, voice laced with half relief and half worry.

“I’m fine but it stinks!” he darts his tongue out, wrinkling his nose with disgust. “I’ll be back in a couple of minutes, just stay away from the cliff,”

“Okay…sorry,”

You can’t help but smile when you hear his heartfelt chuckle. He softly shakes his head, and with a wave of his hand he dissipates all of your worries.

“It’s okay, just wait for me by the ship,” he calls out to you again just as you’re about to leave. “Oh, and get me something to drink will you? My throat is suddenly dry.”

Poe returns with a limp in his step, his arms dangling with no aim with his every movr. A sheer coat of sweat glistens above his golden skin, his eyes glazed as if he’s been walking for hours, and you know that’s not true. It has been ten minutes at most. He’s breathing heavily when he collapses down next to you, his hands cradling his face, chest raising up and down in an exaggerated manner. Worried, you place a hand on his shoulder and he jumps away, looking at you like he would an enemy.

“Poe?” you ask. “Are you alright?”

He thickly swallows, adam’s apple bobbing up and down, he wets his lips.

“I-I think there was something in the flowers,”

You’re surprised at how disheveled he sounds, his voice all shaky and frightened. Fear ghosts across your skin, leaving unsettling goosebumps on your flesh. Just what the hell did he inhale? Is he poisoned?

“Is anywhere hurting? Should I get the first aid kit? You need to be more clear about your symp–”

“Shut up.”

His words cut through the air, feeling like a bullet to the chest. You stay frozen, eyes wide and mouth gaping. Poe shudders and shakes his head, the ends of his hair curling even more with the moisture of his skin. Still worried, you sink your teeth into the inside of your cheek and speak with as much clarity you can muster.

“Poe you need to tell me so I can help you,”

“You can’t.”

“How do you know that?” you challenge him, you move from where you seated and kneel before him. He looks almost pained when his gaze drops to meet yours, the whites of his eyes a sickly yellow. “Do you know what you have?”

He replies between gritted teeth.

“I have an idea and I think it’s best if you just move away from me,”

“That’s a hard no flyboy, I’m not leaving you alone when you can barely stand,”

“It makes me horny,”

“Excuse me?”

He lets out an exasperated sigh while you wonder what he actually said, because surely you heard him wrong. Poe’s fingers bite into his forehead and rubs his temples hard, seemingly trying to get rid of the worst headache ever.

“It makes me want to fuck you,” he exhales through his nose, jaw clenched tightly together. “Whatever I inhaled, it makes me want to fuck you and not just that, it makes me want to fuck you hard. Whenever you touch me it makes me want to lay you out on this very ground and eat you out until you’re crying for me to stop– When I inhale your scent…”

You’re absolutely speechless when he takes a deep inhale, mulling your scent in his lungs like a fine drink.

“...It short circuits my brain. I’m barely controlling myself, now get on the damn ship.”

You push aside the sinful reactions his words are pulling out of your body and try to focus on the problem at hand. It’s a hard thing to do but you have to, for his sake.

“What if it doesn’t pass?” you whisper, eyes going down his body and taking in the sight of his fully erect cock, your mouth waters. “What if…you need to… you know…”

“We’ll just have to take out chances,”

“We can you know,” you blurt out suddenly, heat pooling under your cheeks. “We can do it,”

Gathering enough courage, you lift your gaze back up expecting to meet the familiarity of Poe’s dark chocolate eyes, instead you see two dark pools of lust. His breathing becomes heavier.

“I don’t think you understand,” he hisses out between pants. “What I feel right now…It’s animalistic–” he grabs your chin, squeezing into the hollows of your cheeks. “I don’t know if I can stop, get it?”

“I do, I just don’t care. I don’t want you to suffer, alone like this”

He snarls at your stubbornness, blunt nails leaving crescent shaped marks on your skin. Finally he lets go, leaving you gasping for air as if he was squeezing your throat instead of your cheeks. Frantically he pats himself, handing you his blaster a moment later. When you feel the weapon in your hand, brows knitted together with confusion,

you look up to him.

“I’m not going to shoot you,” you say bluntly.

“I didn’t give you that so you can shoot me–” he rasps, your eyes widen, he’s getting worse, beads of sweat sliding down the frame of his face. “Well I kinda gave you that so you can shoot me but only if I’m out of control, got it?”

“N–”

“This isn’t up for discussion,” he commands. A shudder crawls up your spine and you become silent, listening for what else he has to say. “Either promise me you’ll shoot me if things get out of control or get on the ship and wait for me to get this damn drug, or whatever it is, out of my system,”

The air stills, even the planet seems to know the rising tension between the two of you because it’s buried in sudden silence. You exchange glances, a small tremor to your hand as your mind, and heart, races. You want to do this. Every nerve in your body is screaming for you to let this happen, let it play out. But you also know that if you promise Poe Dameron anything, you need to see through that promise. Your fingers tighten around the blaster, your face feels cold but your body feels warm.

“Do you promise?”

His voice draws you out of your thoughts, swallowing, you place the blaster on the ground, your fingers spreading across the metal surface.

“I promise.”

“Are you sure?” he tilts his head to the side, clicks his jaw and adds, breathing heavily. “Say the full thing. I want to hear you say it,”

“I will shoot you if things get out of control.”

And that’s all it takes.

Poe’s mouth crashes into yours, lips molding with one another as he slips his tongue between your lips. He holds your wrist, pulling your hand down to his clothed cock. You gasp at how warm he is, you roughly cup him, failing a bit with your movements. He groans into your mouth, his hands ripping apart your orange jumpsuit, you continue to stroke him. Poe’s everywhere all at once. He smells of pumpkin and sweat, you inhale him deeply as his lips trail down from your mouth to your collarbone, sucking your skin greedily, he pushes his fingers into the seam of your underwear.

He starts to rut into your hand, you can feel the front of his suit getting wetter with his precum. It makes you arch into him, your own arousal pulsing heavily between your legs.

“Fuck you feel so good– Fuck fuck fuck–”

Poe leaves a series of open mouthed kisses down your body, his tongue following the burn of his lips. You gasp as the curve of his nose brushes against your puffy clit, his mouth latched onto your clothed folds, he tastes the slick spread across your underwear. His breath hitches at the tangy taste, and you moan at the way he’s completely indulging in your body, a man unhinged.

When you feel his bare tongue for the first time, you choke on air.

It’s a feeling you never experienced before, it just feels right to have him inside. Flattening his tongue, he licks up between your folds, lips closing around your clit. You’re positively soaked for him. His fingers follow the trail of his tongue, pushing two of them inside with ease. Your fingers dig into the dirt, your lips parting with a high-pitched moan. His tongue draws tight circles around the sensitive nub, the electrifying pleasure is accompanied by him fucking his fingers deeper inside of you. Poe has you seeing stars in seconds, your vision blacking out as you cunt squeezes and gushing around his thick fingers. He drinks it all with a growl, tongue lapping up even the smallest of drops.

“On your hands and knees, now,”

You’re about to do exactly that but before you can his hands grab your waist and flips you over, coaxing a startled yelp from you. His cock throbs between your folds, the tip brushes against your clit and you shiver at the contact, the tremors of your orgasm still rolling across your body. Leaning forward, Poe cups both your breasts, his cock sliding into you with one smooth motion. A sharp cry rattles your throat, he fills your perfectly, the stretch making pleasure prick at your skin and blood pool underneath your fingernails.

The pace he sets is rough, frantic, and in some ways desperate. He squeezes your tits, his teeth digging into your shoulder as he pounds his cock deeper into you. Head spinning, you scream out his name, your insides feeling raw with another orgasm building deep within. Poe let out a strangled moan as he ruts into you, he lifts you from the ground, his hand cheating its way down your body. Throwing back your hands, you claw at his nape, you feel a finger breaching where his cock slides in and out.

“I want to feel you cumming with my fingers,” he groans, teeth nipping your skin. “You can take more of me can’t you?”

“Yes, Poe– I–I can take more,”

Underneath your eyes, pressure builds, he slides a finger knuckle deep, feeling himself fucking deep into you. You feel on the verge of passing out, you feel so full of him, your muscles grow taut as you feel his cock throbbing. Your second orgasm shatters through you and your nails bite into his skin when it does. It’s such an overwhelming feeling of pleasure, your body arches in the most unnatural way, head falling over his broad shoulder. You can feel the warmth of blood trickling down your skin from where he bit you, you let out a moan, your nails digging further into his skin. Poe’s hips stutter forward, fucking you full of himself as he spills into you. Your body quivers, gravity pulling you harder than ever to the ground but his grip keeps you flush against his heated body. Beads of sweat roll down his back, his breathing heavy while continuing to slam into you.

You hiss at his seed spilling from you with his every thrust, soon you feel him softening and he pulls out. He falls back down, pulling you onto his lap, with his face buried between your breasts. You play with his soft locks, the ends curl with post-coital perspiration.

“Are you okay?” he heaves, lips moving across your damp skin.

“I’m more than okay Poe,” you can’t help but smile as he refuses to look up to you. Hooking a finger under his chin, you lift his gaze. Your smile quickly disappears when you see the wetness in his eyes. “Are you?”

“I am– I feel good, amazing– I just don’t want you to hate me,”

“Never flyboy,” you lean in and softly press your lips against his. “All I have for you is the opposite of hate, it’s love.”

The blaster sits on top of the wet soil, completely forgotten.

kinktober tags: @tusk89 , @amneris21 , @witchisenpai , @pedrito-friskito , @tom-whore-dleston , @lola766 , @batdarkladyvampir , @dindjarinswhore , @dnxgma , @eyelessfaces , @queenofthefaceless , @softtdaisy , @saintlike78 , @timpletance , @xdaddysprincessxx , @stardust-galaxies , @spacecowboyhotch, @queenofthecloudss , @prettyouttherethoughts , @reaperofmen , @partr1dge , @bbyanarchist , @alwaysdjarin , @thevoiceinyourheadx , @absurdthirst , @levi-llama , @damnyoupedro , @stardust-galaxies , @all-the-way-down-here , @welcometostayingawake, @bullet-prooflove , @rainbowcreepie

#poe dameron x you #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron x female reader #star wars fanfiction #star wars x reader #oscar isaac characters masterlist #oscar isaac characters x reader #oscar isaac characters

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moonlight-prose · 2 years ago

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♱ WHAT YOU NEED ♱

a/n: i wrote this absolutely exhausted and ready to fall asleep so i don't think it's particularly good. but i do love the idea of taking care of this man.

day six - deepthroating + bondage | kinktober 2022

summary: poe dameron finally lets someone take care of him.

word count: 1.6k+

pairing: poe dameron x f!reader

warnings: MINORS DNI, cussing, oral (m receiving), bondage, deepthroating, face fucking, tenderness.

You could count on one hand the times that Poe asked you for what he wanted. Not the small things of “Can you hand me that beautiful?” or “Would you give that to someone for me?”. Those were just small favors that were easy enough for you to do—part of why he only asked for you to do them, because he wanted to be the one to take on the complicated bits of life. But he never asked you for something that he truly wanted.

He never asked if you’d give him pleasure before you. Never bothered with focusing on himself, claiming that you were more important to him. Getting you off got him off and you knew that was true to some extent, but even you had to call bullshit eventually. Calling him to your shared quarters, you didn’t bother with the game of twenty questions. He would only deflect his answer either way, choosing once again to ignore his needs for your own.

So, you simply dropped his leather jacket you’d been wearing—that he conveniently forgot—and got down on your knees.

To say he was shocked was an understatement. He’d never locked the door faster, cutting off any prying eyes to the sight of you naked and practically crawling towards him. For once he didn’t ask what this was about or where this came from. He simply did what he knew you wanted. Sitting in the chair and watching intently with darkened eyes as you unbuckled his belt, pulling it free from his pants.

“Here.” You watched his gaze shift to the worn in leather, fingers tracing the scratches and marks.

“What do you want?”

You shook your head, sitting on your knees a few inches away from where he needed you most. “You know what you want to do with it.” Resting your chin on his thigh, you looked up at him—watched his expression shift from hesitation to desire.

There were times when he’d been tempted to ask the question of using you for his pleasure. Times where he couldn’t even get the words out for fear of making you see him a different way. But there you were. Showing him that nothing he wanted could make you run; you were his to love, his to care for, just as he was yours.

Poe gripped your arm, pulling you to a standing position and you followed his lead with ease. Almost as if you’d practiced beforehand, you turned, placing your wrists together behind your back. The leather was soft against your skin as he wrapped it, effectively keeping your hands in place with the buckle. His questions of are you okay and is it too tight were pressed into your shoulder with his lips—the tenderness squeezing your heart.

“Yes,” you sighed in response, eyes fluttering closed as his rough calloused palms ran up and down your hips and down to your ass. He dug his fingers in and spread you, groaning at the sight of you practically dripping down your thighs.

“I haven’t even touched you yet,” he mumbled more to himself.

Before he could slide a hand down towards your throbbing clit, you turned, going back down to your knees as you waited for him to tell you what to do. There’s a reason why he looked right sitting there in front of you, his legs spread and body slouched. A reason why you wanted to bend to his every will without hesitation. Poe Dameron was a natural born leader—a man who gave out orders like it was second nature, expecting results in the end.

You both worked to keep people alive. That was the end goal of this whole fight—the purpose of the Rebellion—but Poe worked harder than you’d ever seen someone work. He threw himself into it without regard for himself.

Sometimes you had to remind him of who he was. Show him that he was as important to you as he believed you were to him.

His hand cupped your jaw, eyes darkening at how you immediately opened your mouth.

“You’re so good,” he said softly, thumb dragging along your bottom lip until he pressed it against your tongue, telling you without words what he wanted you to do. “My good girl.”

Sucking on the pad of his finger, you felt your stomach swoop at the title. Outside in the world you were a pilot. You were a fighter. But here on your knees, you were his girl and you wanted more than anything to be good for him. Nodding in response, you tried to take his thumb deeper into your mouth, but he pulled away, reaching for the button on his pants instead. The echo of the zipper being pulled down sent another wave of arousal through your body.

His cock was red, precum beading at the tip and you’d never wanted to have the taste of him on your tongue so much. Leaning forward, you paused mere inches away from it, waiting for him to tell you what he wanted. It was maddening. Giving someone else complete and utter control and you wouldn’t have it any other way.

“Do you want this?” He had to ask one last time—you knew this. Could see the last bit of restraint in his eyes. You wanted to watch it burn until no self-control remained in his body.

“Yes,” you whispered, shifting your thigh together to relieve some of the pressure.

Moving your head slightly, he ran his thumb along your bottom lip one last time before guiding you towards his cock. A sound tore from his throat the second you enveloped the head of him into your mouth, pressing your tongue along the underside where a prominent veins ran. His taste etched itself in your mind with every inch you took in until finally your nose pressed against the hair at the base of his cock. Poe gasped above you, his head tilted back and eyes shut—a red stain spreading up his neck.

“Fuck baby,” he groaned, digging a hand into your hair and allowing you to start the pace. “You’re too good to me.”

You wanted to argue with him. Tell him that he deserved this, that he couldn’t continue to push himself off, but his cock hitting the back of your throat made you gag. It ripped another broken sound out of him. Something you only heard when he was worked up enough to cum quickly and easily. Breathing steadily through your nose you stayed right there, swallowing around him and whimpering at the sounds he made.

Sounds that you caused him to make. Even that made this whole fucking thing hotter.

“I want to—” he cut himself off, swallowing thickly. “Can I…oh shit.”

Pulling back slightly you did your best to nod your head. You didn’t want him to leave your mouth, the heaviness of his cock somehow nice on your tongue. Maybe it was the part of your brain that became compliant to him speaking, but you couldn’t find it in yourself to give a fuck. Not when your boyfriend was looking fucked out and disheveled, his dark brown eyes solely trained on you.

He wiped the tears that fell down your cheeks, guiding you forward along his cock one more time before steadily taking over the pace. All the while his mouth continued to move as if he couldn’t get the words out fast enough.

“My good fucking girl,” he breathed, thrusting his hips forward and stuttering when you gagged again. “You’re so beautiful taking my cock like this. Do you like this? You like me fucking your mouth like this?”

You moaned, your eyes falling shut as he thrust even deeper, the tears now streaming freely down your face. His body went taut, grunts growing louder with every thrust of his hips and you could feel his cock twitch in your mouth. He was close, tipping over the edge, but needed something to shove him the rest of the way.

Meeting his heated gaze, you writhed against him, wishing you had a hand free to touch yourself. Except this wasn’t about you. Pushing your head down gently, he held you there, all sorts of words and sounds falling from his mouth as you swallowed steadily around his now throbbing cock. Letting out a breath through your nose, you ran your tongue along the thick vein and he snapped.

Crying your name, his head fell forward, mouth dropping open, as he came down your throat, the taste of him still hitting your tongue. He released you then, giving you a chance to stimulate him even further until he was weakly thrusting into your mouth. If you could, you’d have him like this as much as possible. Seeing Poe completely lost in the throes of pleasure because of you sent your body into overdrive, your mind whiting out along with him.

Eventually the feeling grew too much for him and he weakly pushed your head back, his cock falling from your now swollen mouth.

“Too much,” he breathed, his voice shaky. “You’re gonna kill me if you keep going.”

You smiled, resting your cheek on his thigh. “It would take a lot more than that to kill you.”

Drawing you up to your feet, he yanked on the belt—smiling when it clattered to the ground and you were finally able to move as you pleased. Falling into his lap, you wrapped your arms around his neck. You were still desperate for him to touch you, the ache in your body practically screaming at you. But for now you ignored it. Choosing instead to focus on him and his flushed face, an expression of bliss staring back at you.

“I love you,” he mumbled, capturing your lips in a tender kiss. “I love you more every day.”

Your answer of course was instant—the words on the tip of your tongue all night. “I love you more too,” you responded, brushing your lips against his as you basked in the warmth of his body against yours.

#poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron #poe dameron smut #poe dameron fic #my writing #kinktober 2022

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the-little-ewok · 1 year ago

Text

Enraptured (Poe POV)

Poe Dameron X Fem!Reader

Rating : E / 18+

Word count : 2600 (ish)

Warnings : PIV, fingering, semi-public sex, tiny bit of needy!Poe, sprinkles of feral!Poe, reader wears a dress, lack of self confidence, praise kink, cock warming, fluff, brief mentions of F/oral receiving, a tad of possessiveness in a soft way

Summary: Poe litterally can't keep his hands off you during a party (This is Clandestine... but from Poe's POV ;) )

A/N : It's not necessary to have read Clandestine to enjoy this. It's simply the same story from another (slightly more feral) point of view.

He can't stop his foot from bouncing impatiently under the table, trying anything to distract himself from the way you look, bathed in flickering multicolour lights, your dress accentuating every part of you that he loves.

He has so many regrets about agreeing to come tonight. He hates these types of parties as it is, full of stuck-up politicians, only out for their own gain. But this one, this is so much worse because of you. He can't concentrate on anything, and now to top it off he can't even leave the table because, well, in short, everyone would see exactly what you do to him.

He wants to look elsewhere, he wants to distract himself, but he can't. All he can do is stare at you, imagining the way you would look bent over the table, your dress hiked up high, the plush of your ass against his hips as he presses himself deep inside you, making you scream his name.

Damn Jess for helping you pick that dress. He really must remember to thank her the next time he sees her.

"Stop that," you scold him, for probably the thousandth time tonight.

"Stop what?" He grins at you, licking his lips as his eyes flicker up and down your body for absolutely the thousandth time. He really can't help himself anymore.

"Looking at me," you hiss in response, adjusting your dress.

He wishes you didn't fidget the way you do, like his gaze makes you uncomfortable. You don't see how truly beautiful you are — more than anyone, anything, he's ever seen. Your smile, your laugh, your kindness, your good heart, the way you never take any of his bullshit, the way you make his heart beat just as wildly as flying does. Poe knows he's in too deep with you. He's fallen harder than he ever has. He can't stop looking at you because you're all he can see, all he can ever see these days.

But you, beautiful, sexy, sweet, funny, you can't always accept that. And so the fidget only cements that he wants to show you just how much he wants you, right now.

"I'm admiring," he clarifies, refusing to move his gaze, determined to make you see what he sees.

"Well, admire something else," you answer, refusing to look at him.

Poe almost scoffs to himself. Admire something else? Not fucking likely with his cock impatiently throbbing with need.

"I can't," he leans in close to you, his voice a low hiss. He's genuinely surprised you haven't realised why yet, that it hasn't even been a thought to cross your mind. "You have no idea how much I can't."

He has a fleeting thought about grabbing your hand and showing you exactly what you do to him, but honestly, if you touched him now, he'd probably cum in his pants and ruin all the fun he plans to have with you later.

"Poe."

It's only half a warning. He can see it in your eyes — the flicker of desire. He's an expert at reading you, or at least he likes to think he is, and so far he hasn't been wrong. Maybe he can convince you to leave early. One of you could fake an illness, make your excuses, and stumble back to your room. He reckons he could probably make it as far as the lift before he has you pinned against the wall, your leg held up over his hip, fingers gripping your thigh as you tremble for him.

Kriff, he needed to slow down before he blows his load without so much as a brush of your flesh against his.

Taking a breath to steady himself, his eyes flicker over you once more, reading every micro expression. Yeah, you are starting to want this just as much as he needs it. Bedroom, lift, hell even getting to the door out of here is going to be too much trouble. He isn't making it that far.

"Come sit with me. At least let me hold you," he whispers softly, slipping his hand into yours. Your fingers grip his, warm and soft, suspicion in your eyes. But when he tugs, you follow, allowing him to guide you down onto his lap.

Such a good girl for me.

Your gasp as you sit makes his cock twitch, just the soft friction of your movement enough to start shredding whatever little patience he has left.

"I need you," he whispers against your ear. "I need you, now." He brushes his nose up the column of your neck, inhaling the intoxicating scent of you, wishing he had time, and enough restraint, to climb under the table and taste you before he cums, but he doesn't.

"Poe, we are in public!"

Maybe you are right. Maybe it's time to stop before he gets too far but fuck, he's too far gone. The delicious little wriggle you do on his lap does absolutely nothing to help.

"I can't wait," he groans, his hips rutting against you of their own accord, desperate for any sort of friction. "Please baby, it's been like this all night. Please. I need to be inside you."

He's begging now and he doesn't care. All he can think about is how desperately he needs to feel you soaking his cock, how desperately he wants to show you the effect you have on him, how desperately he wants you to believe you're worthy of it.

Even in the dim lighting, he catches the little smirk at the corner of your mouth. Perhaps you're just a little proud that you can reduce him to this. You have no true idea what you could reduce him to if you wanted to. If you asked he'd get down on his knees and beg you for just a glance in his direction. There isn't anything he wouldn't do for you.

"I'll be good to you," he promises, catching the hem of your dress and dragging it up, splaying his hands against your soft thighs, inching them up higher. "You know how good I can be to you."

You shiver at the touch of his hands and he wonders if your mind fills with memories like his does — back to all the nights you've spent together, your head tipped back on sweat soaked sheets as he worships at the altar of your body.

"If anyone sees…" your voice trails off with a sigh as he presses his lips against your neck, fighting to keep his hands still while he gives you time to consider your position.

"They won't." He's confident in that. If there's one thing he is, it's observant. He knows everyone is too caught up in their own night to worry about the two of you tucked away in a dark corner. The table just about covers your lap, where your dress is hiked up, his hands drifting closer to your hot core. The music is loud enough that nobody will hear you.

They won't see, but honestly, Poe couldn't give a damn if they do. Let them look, let them watch, let them see you are his.

He moves his mouth down your neck, slowly, invitingly, pausing to suck against your pulse point, marking you as his own, his hands pushing your thighs apart. Your pliancy to his actions only fuels his desire for you. He's proud that you allow this, that you trust him to do this. He's absolutely going to make it worth your while. Well, he's at least going to try and last long enough to make it worth your while.

His fingers finally slip between your thighs and it's like his lungs have suddenly collapsed, all the air rushing out suddenly.

You aren't wearing panties. His fingers brush against bare wet, no not just wet, soaked, flesh.

His plan was to gently tease you, make you admit how much you're enjoying this, how much you want this, but somehow his entire vocabulary is erased by the shock.

"Fuck," is all he manages to punch out as he drags his fingers up over your clit, relishing the way your hips jerk in response. He lets out a low whine against your neck as he ruts into your ass, desperate for release.

He swears he almost cums at the gasp you let out when he slips a finger into you. You're so hot. He has to pause for a moment, calming himself as you take a breath of your own, before he finally draws his finger up and over your clit, and then back down, sinking two fingers into you.

"Shouldn't have let you leave the room," he grumbles as you squirm, each jolt of your hips only drawing his attention to his painfully hard cock.

Why did he decide to listen to you about coming to this party? Why did he decide he could wait? Of all the questionable decisions Poe has made in his life, he's putting the one of agreeing to leave the room before burying himself inside you, at least twice, right at the top. Well, at least for now.

He curls his fingers slowly against your walls, his thumb barely stroking your clit with feather light touches, keeping you just tiptoeing the edge. After all you've put him through tonight, you deserve a little payback.

When your wriggling increases and your chest starts to heave with the effort of biting down your moans of pleasure, he licks a hot stripe up your neck, enjoying the way your breath catches and your body jerks.

"Can I fuck you now?"

He waits with bated breath to see how far you'll let him take this.

He'd never push you further than you wanted, never make you do something you're uncomfortable with. If you say no now then he'll wait, as much as it might drive him to the point of absolute madness. At this point, he might just cum in his pants from looking at you anyway.

"Yes," you breathe out, and then you roll your hips back against him. Poe curses loudly, unceremoniously removing his fingers from you and scrambling to undo his pants, every last bit of patience blasted to pieces. Later he'll apologise about the rush, be embarrassed about it, but right now, he has to have you.

His hands grip your hips, probably a little harder than necessary if he was honest, as you take a breath and sink down onto his cock. Poe's eyes roll back and he has to bite down on your shoulder to muffle the moan of pleasure as your walls flutter hot and tight around him.

He realises too late that`s a mistake, and right as his teeth sink into your flesh, your pussy clenches around him. His hips jolt upwards of their own accord, pressing him deeper into you and listening to your choked moan as he fights not to cum then and there.

"Shit baby, don't do that," he warns, taking a trembling breath. "Not unless you want this over really qui-nghh!"

Of course, you do it again. Of course, he should have expected it. But he didn't, and it takes every last bit of self restraint he has not to pin you down over the table and fuck you so hard you'll still feel it tomorrow.

"Stop," he warns, gritting his teeth, trying to think of anything but the searing heat engulfing his dick. "Don't wanna rush this."

You clench again and he growls a frustrated warning. He wants you to just sit still for a damn minute while he catches his breath before this ends too quickly for both of you. But you seem to have no intentions of letting him do that.

Well if it was going to be that way, two could play that game. He was going to drag this out now. Fuck you slowly, deeply, like he has all the time in the world. Poe's stubbornness was the only thing that could outweigh his desperate desire.

He grinds his hips upwards, pressing deep inside you, pulling you down against him as he does, ensuring you feel all of him. Your whole body reacts, and he can't stop the smirk forming on his lips.

There we go baby, take it all for me.

He adjusts just slightly with each grind of his hips until he finds that one spot that makes you whimper. And then he presses against it, again, and again, and again.

Oh, how he relishes in the shivers of your body, the gasps escaping your lips, the beads of sweat rolling down your neck, the clench of your pussy as he holds you still against his lap, forcing you to accept the pleasure, even though he knows he's holding you on the edge of bliss for longer than you would like.

"Good girl, taking me so well," he praises, his voice low against your ear, trying to stop his own breath from heaving, lest you know you could tip him over the edge with one well placed word. "Letting me have you here, where anyone can see us."

The bite of your nails digging into his arms only spurns him on, making his cock throb inside you. He wonders if the marks will still be there tomorrow, something he can admire, something that marks him as yours.

"Driving me crazy in this dress. Lookin' like the hottest fucking thing. Fuck baby, you're so good to me, letting me do this." He knows he's rambling now, but his mouth, as it so often does, is going before his thoughts are connecting. All he can think about is how good you feel, your body pressed against him, anchored by his arms around your waist, your pussy gripping his aching cock as you take all he's willing to give you.

You're so close, he can feel it. Your body is stiff, your nails digging in painfully now, your head leant back against his shoulder, chest heaving, pussy fluttering, whimpering with each slow torturous grind of his hips.

His own climax creeps up far quicker than he's expecting and suddenly he desperately needs to let go. Scrambling to pull your dress up out of the way he presses his fingers against your clit, drawing quick tight circles as you gasp.

He needs you to fall first. He needs to feel what he does to you.

"Cum for me. Cum now," he demands.

Your back arches, your breath catching as you let go of his arms to grip the table, your pussy clenching and fluttering as your climax hits. It's too much and Poe finally lets himself go, burying his moan of satisfaction into your neck, his fingers moving to grip your thighs as you writhe on his lap. He continues to roll his hips slowly, milking every last bit of your climax, savouring each little shiver and whimper until you collapse back against him, boneless.

Even though everything seems hazy around the edges in the post orgasmic bliss, he notices the way your head turns just slightly, checking if anyone has noticed what has transpired.

"Told you nobody would see," he smiles, nuzzling your neck, enjoying the closeness of your body.

"You're lucky," you turn your head to kiss him and his heart jumps. How could there have ever been a time when you thought he wouldn't want you? How could there have been a time you didn't realise he spent every night, cock in hand, thinking about you. How could you not realise he was hopelessly, utterly in love with you?

"I am very lucky," he nods, wishing he could form better words to explain just how lucky he feels. But you're sitting there looking so prettily dishevelled, sweat still drying on your skin, your nail marks in his arms, and he can't think of anything but how much he wants to drag those noises from you again.

"Thanks for helping me take care of that problem." He grins, his hands moving to brush his fingers against the inside of your thighs, slowly inching upwards to where he's still buried deep inside you. "I'll repay the favour later tonight…" he pauses, wondering if you can go again already. "Or now?"

You let out the prettiest noise as his hands creep higher, placing a solitary kiss on your neck. Poe decided that means you need a minute, but he has no intentions of making it an easy minute.

He bites down a groan as his fingers are met with slick wetness, almost halfway down your thighs. Judging by how wet you are, and a small shift of his legs confirms his suspicions as his pants stick to his own skin, there's no way he's moving any time soon anyway.

"I'm sorry baby, but it seems you might have made quite the mess. You're soaked everywhere."

He's about as un-sorry as he can get, his mind already filled with how many more times he can get you to cum before the party is over. How much can you take before it's too much? How many times can he make you whimper? How many times can he make you soak his lap?

You could be stuck here for hours yet, right where you are. The thought makes his cock twitch.

His arms wrap tight around your waist, ensuring you aren't going anywhere anytime soon. He feels you shiver in anticipation as his lips ghost the shell of your ear, a wicked grin forming on his lips.

"I guess you'll just have to sit right there until the party's over."

-------------

Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed please reblog and let me know your thoughts! Remember interactions keep writers writing!

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x female reader #poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron smut #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron

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storyarcscribe · 2 years ago

Note

any updates on lighten up? If not it’s okay take your time :)

Hello Rookie!! Drafted out about 1K (that’s not even carving into my main plot of this lol) Currently abroad for holiday but planning to start back up next week. Not best news but not bad news hopefully. I’d love to do a tease soon too. I’m ALSO outlining a multi chapter Poe fic so THAT has been consuminnnnnggg my mind lol. Never planning on abandoning Lighten Up. Thank you for checking in!

#storyarcscribe #xoxoxo #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron x reader

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zinzinina · 2 years ago

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okay I'm not sure I'd you're still doing the uh. thing where you write a scene from a different pov but if you are and have time/interest, would you feel like doing poe pov with that part in directions where he asks how many other guys she's been with? I love love love that fic so much btw and I'm gonna go through your masterlist when I get off work <3

Hello! ✨ A little confession: some of these have been sitting in my inbox for months. I secretly didn't plan on fulfilling this request because it meant that I'd need to go re-read Directions, and I very rarely read my own writing again once it's been posted. But I was in the mood for something fun and easy, and then I actually had a great time revisiting this story! So thank you so so much @buckyisdisabled, @lostinwonderland314, @mandaloriandin and sweet Yearning Human anon for asking for this and for your lovely messages. I really hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it x

Pairing: Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Rating: Explicit 18+

Warnings: PIV, creampie, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, squirting, feelings, implied cum eating, overstimulation, masturbation, friends to lovers

This is reworking of a scene from this fic, told from Poe’s POV.

from a certain point of view ask game ✨

———

Poe sucks his slick fingers into his mouth, and her taste hits his head like spice; sharp and sweet.

She pants up at him from his pillow (his pillow) her eyes wide as a nervous animal’s, her hands curled into fists. It takes everything he has not to blow his load in his pants right then and there.

He feels a little drunk. He needs to course-correct.

Drastically.

He’d meant it when he told her he thought this would be fun. Because everything is, with her. He thought she’d be giving him shit the whole time. He’d expected her to be unimpressed with him in the way only she ever is; doing what she does best and keeping his feet nailed to solid ground even while his head did tailspins around the sound of her laughing at him.

But she’s not laughing at him. The way she’s looking up at him…

This, right here, is extremely fucking serious for her.

Maybe he should’ve tried to make this nicer. Maybe he should’ve lit candles.

For reasons that are not entirely clear, he catches himself remembering a particularly fucked up day from several months back. His comms and tracking had both shorted out after a hit in the middle of an above-planet dogfight with no visual, and for about two hours, the Resistance network listed him PKIA.

When he’d eventually landed back in the hanger, it was chaotic with smoking, twisted astromech parts. Unbeknownst to him, Black One was a ghost ship.

Mechanics and pilots alike had turned and gaped in silent shock as he’d climbed out of his cockpit, and he’d only had a moment to wonder whether there was something growing out of the top of his head before he’d been knocked off his feet by a sobbing projectile stinking of sweat and smoke in an oil-stained flightsuit.

She’d only stopped crying after socking him in the chest, her voice hoarse as she told him how much of an idiot he was for not switching over to his backup signal.

He’d never wanted to see that look on her face ever again, and if he hadn’t pushed her into verbalising the source of her terror here, he’d be too turned off to go any further. He doesn’t go in for that shit; he wants his partners relaxed and comfortable and enthusiastically willing.

But it’s knowing what she’s actually worrying about—stuck in her head as always, thinking about everyone else; what he thinks of her, rather than focusing on how she feels—that makes him determined to stick with her, as long as she says.

He’s staggered by the amount of trust she’s putting in him. Shit, he doesn’t know whether it makes his heart ache more, or his dick. Like she has anything to be nervous about. Like she isn’t the prettiest fucking girl he knows. Like making her smile isn’t the single greatest source of pride he gets to hold over himself.

Doesn’t she know? Can’t she already fucking tell? He’d worship the ground she walks on if he knew she wouldn’t laugh herself sick at him if he tried.

It would be funny, if it weren’t so painful. That for all of her quick, sharp perception, she’d miss this, so entirely.

“Perfect. You’re perfect,” he says softly, and he can see how little she believes him. “Told you. Nothing wrong with you. I wanna try something,” he continues, before she can say anything to piss him off. He can handle her putting shit on him. He isn’t letting her do it to herself. “You’ll like it, I promise. And if you don’t just tell me and we’ll stop. Okay?”

“Okay,” she says, nodding, her eyes still huge. A sudden throb of affection makes his head feel like it’s filled with tibanna gas.

“I’m gonna take your pants off,” he tells her, grasping each of her ankles to do exactly this.

She lifts her ass toward him as he wriggles her underwear and pants over her legs, giving him a brief glimpse of the most beautiful view he’s ever seen in his life.

His brain’s still catching up when he sees the furtive way her eyes keep flicking down toward where it feels like his dick’s trying to bust through his fly.

“Don’t you want…?”

“It’s not about me,” he cuts her off. And if you touch me right now I won’t make it, and I’ll ruin my reputation, and kill any chance of living any of this shit down with you ever again, he decides not to add.

He bends, spreading her legs with both hands. Her clit’s so swollen her labia are parted around it, the soft skin inside her thighs smeared with her first orgasm.

Her first orgasm—the first one another person’s given her, anyway—and it’s his.

And, oh, it had been so easy.

His ego is not immune to this.

But, nice as it is, it doesn’t quite feel like a boost in the traditional sense. It feels something more like a twinge, hard and new, right under his ribcage. Like vindication, maybe, or—and he feels like a fucking moron for even thinking it—fate.

He bows from the waist and nudges into her with his nose, his tongue laving a stripe up the entire length of her pussy.

Her skin tastes like soap. Somewhere in the dimmest corners of his head he’s annoyed at this; imagines her scouring every inch of herself raw in the showers before coming to him, filled with nerves and doubt under the spray. He presses the muscle of his tongue into her opening in search of more of the her he’d found on his fingers.

The sound she makes zips lightning-hot straight to his guts.

His eyes roll briefly closed, and he sinks down onto his elbows, the twisted line of the sheets digging into his skin under his weight.

She shifts her thighs together, her fingers twitching at her side. He steals a glance up and finds her watching him, her lips parted, her eyes too-bright.

“Open your legs,” he encourages, his lips barely lifting from her skin. She sinks her teeth into her lip as she lets her knees fall flat to the bed.

She’s spread out open in front of him, and he dips his head to continue.

She flinches and tenses and exhales in turn, reacting to every touch of his mouth as though speaking aloud. It makes him feel violently impatient, and so he moves slower, trying to temper himself.

He wants to be inside her.

He wants to swallow her, and to be swallowed by her. Fuck, he’s never wanted anything more in his life.

He’s pretty sure he’s leaking precum into his pants; all the blood having long vacated his brain to swell bruise-achingly hard in his cock. He tries to stay focused, but the reality is that Poe’s thoughts ran away from him the second she set foot in his room. The challenge now is to just try not to do something stupid.

Something stupider than fucking his best friend.

She hisses, tossing her head back, her legs twitching so hard his tongue nearly loses its place against the hot nub of her clit.

He slides both hands beneath her thighs to lift her hips to his face in an attempt to keep her still, barely managing to tamp down the urge to rut helplessly against the mattress in search of relief.

The smell of her, the taste, fills his senses. But it’s still not enough. He wants to bring her to insensibility; to work that softness into the bed, glutting himself until her whimpers turn to those of overstimulation.

He’d never really considered himself a possessive person, but as she quietly sucks in a sharp, shallow breath, he realises he wants that sound all to himself.

He pulls it out of her with his tongue again, and again, his attention unwavering.

He wants her thinking of this, of him, from now on. Every single time she comes, alone or otherwise. He wants her to dream about him inside her; tongue, fingers, cock, he doesn’t give a fuck. At briefings. At meals. Waiting around bored for launch clearance in her fighter, standing alone in the showers, when someone else presses their hands to her skin, and lifts her chin to meet her lips (and fuck, that hurts to think about, like hitting realspace at-speed, hard enough to grind his bones together).

She comes with a pained-sounding cry, her pubic bone bumping into his nose and pushing his face away. He drags himself up and finds her reaching her hands out as though to stop him.

“You okay?” he manages.

“Poe, I want…please…”

“What, baby? Talk to me.” He leans up, bracing himself over her. Maybe she’s changed her mind. Maybe she’s had enough and she’s going to tell him to stop, to give her back her pants, to never mention any of this again.

It’s still more than he’d ever imagined he’d get.

Her eyes stay on his and she blinks slowly at him, as though trying to remember who he is. His heart thunks hollowly in his chest, and he waits.

“Fuck me.”

He pauses. It wasn’t what he’d expected her to say. His already-painful cock jumps in his pants at the demand. “You need a break first?”

She answers by trying to drag him down toward her, her hips lifting to press against him, ankles hooked around the backs of his legs.

He doesn’t wait to be told twice. He shifts his weight, kicking his pants down, settling himself between her legs.

She ducks her chin and kisses his shoulder.

His head swims. He barely feels the touch of her lips through the material of his shirt, but it hardly matters. The gesture is so small, so careful, so quick, as though she couldn’t help herself.

As though it’s something she’s thought of before.

Which is when it hits him: the one thing he’s never seriously let himself entertain. Does he…actually have a chance?

Without undue vanity, Poe knows that his looks are the one area, at least, that he can afford not to worry about. He’s not an idiot. He knows exactly how people respond when he flashes his teeth at them, or holds their eyes with his own for a protracted moment from beneath a quirked eyebrow.

But never her. She’s somehow always been frustratingly, crushingly immune to every single weapon in his arsenal. It had been a source of ire in the early days, while he was still learning the colour of her voice, and the shape of her mind.

The sadder, slower ache of acceptance had come later; gathering like thunderheads, lingering long.

She wasn’t for him. She didn’t want to be. Letting himself pretend otherwise would have only ever been an exercise in masochism.

Despite all of this, Poe’s still human. And, as he had come to realise, knowing something intellectually is very different to knowing it physically.

Whenever she smiles at him, and bumps into him, and rolls her eyes at him. Whenever he’s inside somebody else, tasting the sweat on their skin, or stretched out around their pleasure. Whenever he jerks his cock alone in his bunk late at night, ashamed and furious at himself for such a disgraceful breach of their friendship, for the things he’s imagined.

Everything he’s ever done with anybody else; every filthy, beautiful fucking thing, he’d turn himself inside out and crawl over hot coals to do again with her, to her, for her, if she wanted.

And now, here she is.

He might not ever get another shot at this.

He needs to make it count.

“How many other guys’ve you been with?” he says, his voice coming out rough. She looks mortified, but he doesn’t care. “How many?”

“S-six,” she says.

He nods. He’d already known about Kip and Terrett, and he’d had his suspicions about Rau and Valen. He’s a little disappointed at the knowledge that Rau had let her down with all the others; he wouldn’t have expected it.

“Then that’s six other times we gotta make up for,” he says, distractedly.

He presses forward, and the first millimetre he sinks inside her already has him panicking.

She immediately feels far too hot and close, but the hardest part, the part threatening to undo everything, is the way she’s looking up at him, as though silently pleading with him, and Gods, how she doesn’t need to.

“Oh, sh...shit. You good? I’m good. That’s…ungh, so fucking good.” He’s aware he’s making no sense, but that’s the only thing left in his head, probably the only thing he’ll ever know again: good, good, good.

Her fingers are clenched tight around his forearm, and he thinks she might be holding her breath, but then she lets it go, and the wet bloom of her cunt swallows him fractionally deeper.

“You’re doing so good baby, you’re taking me so well, you feel perfect,” he groans, hoping he doesn’t sound as wrecked as he feels, his guts on fire with need.

She squirms under him, and fuck, she feels incredible. After coming twice he can feel the evidence of how wet she is, the smooth glide of her body gripping close around him, giving way slowly.

It’s suddenly too fucking hot in his room. He can feel his hair sticking to the back of his neck and around his ears, and it’s vaguely annoying, but he couldn’t give a shit.

Her warm breath meets his chin, and he follows the line of her attention down the length of his own body, to the place where his hips are flush against hers. Between her parted legs he can see his cock half-sunk inside her, and his face presses to her damp, salty skin as he murmurs to her, pressing forward, enveloped entirely by her.

He has no idea what he’s saying. It just feels important for her to know.

Whatever it is, he never gets the chance to find out.

Because then she’s kissing him, and her mouth is on his and her lips are parting and they’re soft and her teeth are catching at the dry ege of his lower lip and her breath is hot and it’s hers and it’s in his mouth and it’s in his lungs and it’s oxygenating his fucking blood and pumping through his heart and his brain and searing through every single part of him until she’s all that’s left.

He’s pretty sure he’s dying.

“Holy fuck,” he thinks he’s trying to say, and he feels her smiling, gently biting into his lip, keeping him quiet.

She rolls her hips up against his, pushing herself off the bed. He can feel himself rapidly losing control as she throws her head back, her brows drawn, teeth cutting into her own lip.

“Baby, wait, wait a sec,” he pants.

“What’s wrong?” she gasps, and of course she doesn’t listen; she never fucking listens to him, rocking up toward him, making him see stars.

“Just…fuck, hang on.” Cold showers, he thinks, grimly. Freezing cold showers, and depressurised-cockpit earaches. Nine hour-long diplomatic debriefs. The rancid-smelling mucus trail Klaud leaves behind everywhere he goes.

“Is this…not good?” she says, low and weak. “Poe?”

His eyes nearly roll back in his head as she whispers his name, and the sound jolts through him—her voice, the one he knows so well—like this, with him.

Whatever pitiful electricity’s still left in the meat of his brain fizzles out. “Oh shit, say my name again,” he begs, not even waiting for her to do so.

He’s already moving, needing to feel the walls of her cunt stroking and sucking at his cock. “D’you know how many times I’ve thought about this? About being inside you like this? And I never, ever thought you’d wanna…”

He shouldn’t be saying this. He’s gotta be real fucking careful, if he doesn’t want to accidentally tell her every shameful daydream he’s ever had about her and disintegrate what’s left of their friendship into dust.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he tells her instead. “Your pussy is perfect.”

She recoils, and it’s equal parts adorable and infuriating that even now she’d be embarrassed to hear him say this.

He almost laughs. “Why’s that make you shy? You don’t like me talking about your pussy? You wanna know how good you taste, baby? You’re sweet, so sweet and tight and—” and fuck, he can still taste her on his lips, and he watches her carefully, finding the place that makes her fall boneless and focusing there, right there, until the viselike grip on his arms weakens and she’s coming again.

Her voice breaks, but he doesn’t slow. She can take it.

He pushes her hips down, fucking her into the mattress, skin clapping on skin. She’s yanking at his hair hard enough to hurt, but he relishes the pain because it keeps his vision clear; exactly where he wants to be.

Her orgasm tumbles into another, and he seizes her knees, lifting her toward him as he picks up his pace. She moans, belatedly trying to cover the sound with her hand, and it’s the sweetest music he’s ever heard. He is never, ever going to be able to get that sound out of his head again.

“Hey, hey. Let me hear that,” he says, leaning closer, dragging her hand away. “Don’t you cover that up. Come on, baby, I wanna hear you.” She presses her lips together, and he huffs, driving himself into her just a little harder than strictly necessary.

He’s rewarded with a weak, throaty whimper, and he grins at her. “That’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” he confesses.

Her nipples stand through the thin, sweat-sheer fabric of her tank top, her softness rippling upwards with every stroke. He watches her body greedily, wanting more, wanting everything all at once.

He wants, very badly, to lick her again, all the way from her neck to her sweet, trembling cunt. He can still taste her on his tongue as he presses his fingers down to her clit, just above the place where he’s still pumping in and out of her.

She cries out, coming again until she’s melting wet into the bed.

He still doesn’t slow, but his thoughts have run away from him and all of a sudden he realises it’s too late, far too late to stop himself.

He wants her full of his cum, until he’s emptied out all of the ache of himself into her, and her pretty, swollen cunt’s overfull with him until he dribbles out from between her lips and onto his fingers, making a mess of the sheets so he can start all over again.

Right at the precipice of his climax, she opens her eyes and looks up at him. There are tears of overstimulation clinging to her eyelashes, and her fingers are clutching gently at the back of his shirt.

Nobody has ever laid me down as low as you, he thinks, surprised at the strength of his emotion, willing her to understand.

But then he’s coming so hard his limbs go numb, and he isn’t thinking anything anymore.

He presses himself deep, deep inside, shaking violently as she swallows every pulse of his orgasm. His heart is thunderous in his ears, his muscles liquefied. He slumps, panting.

If she objects to the deadweight of his body over hers, she doesn’t say anything. He stays there, smothering her, trying to regain his breath, until he can feel her beginning to shift uncomfortably beneath him.

“Was that…okay?” she says, ridiculously, like his soul didn’t just leave his body.

He doesn’t even bother responding to the question. “You’re crazy,” he muses instead. “She’s crazy.”

He’s lifting himself off her when his chain swings from the neck of his shirt, clocking her between the eyes. “Oh, shit,” he says, as she gasps in pain. “Sorry, baby.” He presses his fingers to the spot, feeling guilty. “Normally I’d’ve taken that off.”

He’s usually far more thoughtful than this when he has company, but this time he hadn’t unclipped his necklace, or changed his clothes or sheets. The thought simply hadn’t occurred to him. Because she doesn't feel like—has never felt like—a guest in his bed. In fact, her absences have only ever felt like temporary discomforts to be endured until her return.

She’s scowling at him, her nose wrinkled up like a Weequay’s, and it’s so fucking cute he wants to kiss her again. “Why didn’t you?” she says.

She needs to ask? “Because it’s you.”

As he crawls back down between her legs, he finds a spectacular mess of cum and sweat and the evidence of her orgasms on the sheets, and fuck, it’s soaking down here. He wonders whether she even realises what she’s done.

He’s disappointed he didn’t get to watch. He’s sure he can get her to do it again, though.

She blinks down at him, her eyes glassy. “What are you doing?”

His mouth waters watching the way her wet skin shines and he feels an answering twitch in his recently-softened cock. “Cleaning you up. We’re not done yet.”

Her eyes widen, but whatever she does next, he misses it.

He’s preoccupied.

Just tagging a couple of the lovely people who commented on the original and might be interested in this, absolutely no pressure of course! x

@saradika @oscarseyebrow @the-little-ewok @bacarasbabe @writeforfandoms @hardc0rehaylz @moonlight-prose @lcvenderblues @onfiretakemehigher @littlemousedroid @viceofdionysus @grufflepuff-writes-stuff @ifimayhaveaword @millllenniawrites @liamakorn @lilhawkeye3 @grumpymuffinmama @dailyreverie @mandelirious

#poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #from a certain point of view ask game #poe dameron smut #star wars smut #poe dameron fanfic #star wars fanfic

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supremewolfren · 2 years ago

Text

The Devil's Gift ~ Epilogue

Summary: Poe Dameron is the honorary Prince of Hell - the leading choice for King of Hell. The only issue is the fact that he’s single. This is where you, his succubus’ best friend, come in.

Pairing: Poe Dameron X Reader

Warnings: Smut(albeit probably not my best), pregnancy, general fluff

Word Count: 1674

Series Masterlist || Previous Part

Two Years Later

Poe's hand gripped your chin, an endearing hold with enough force to hold you in place. He had you pinned to the bed, his cock nestled deep inside you pulsing but not moving otherwise. With one hand on your chin, his other was resting next to your head holding him above you.

"I said, do you trust me?" Each word was extenuated with a small barely there thrust of his hips. You were on the verge of begging for him to move, each thrust had caused a whimper or whine to leave your lips. You nodded firmly, and he tapped your face with his index finger signaling that he wanted you to use your words.

"With my entire-" his hips started moving again, interrupting you as a whine of Poe left your lips, "be- hah- being." You managed to get it out as his thrusts sped up. He looked down at you with love written in his eyes, before pulling out entirely.

As you whined and squirmed trying to get him to come back, he placed a hand on your chest, holding you on the bed. "Patience Stardust, patience," he mused as he leaned down to slot his lips against yours, a soft whimper leaving you, cupping his face you pushed against him. The plushness of his lips always surprised you, for some reason you always expected them to be chapped. Probably because he was consistently placing his teeth on them. Pulling away from you, he quickly gripped your hips before flipping you over onto all fours.

At this point, you were sure you couldn't feel your legs, every single part of you felt like jelly. Rocking your hips back you attempted to get him to slide home again, which rewarded you with a slap to your ass and another breath of patience. With a soft defeated groan, you nodded and adjusted your position so you were face down on your pillow, one of your hands reached back for him while you worked your other hand underneath you. Not touching yourself yet, just waiting for him. You knew the rules of this game, this was for you. This was reclaiming yourself after everything you'd been through and god did it feel good.

Without warning, he slammed himself back into you, a broken scream leaving your lips and a groan leaving his. A broken whimper of "fuck please Poe" fell from your lips as he gripped your hips keeping himself steady. "Behave, love behave," his voice was thick with lust as he slowly but steadily increased the speed of his thrusts, each hitting that spongy spot inside of you that had you seeing stars.

All coherent thought had left, you were begging for him to keep going but also to fill you in only the way he knew how. Breaking through the fog, you felt his hand around your throat pulling you to meet back to chest. "Fuck! Poe, im gonna, hah fuck, cum," you whined out broken by the grip he had on your throat.

"Be a good girl and cum for me," his voice was firm, not even sounding out of breath as he continued pounding into you. As your walls began to spasm, he hummed "thatta girl, that's my girl. Cumming for me." He didn't allow his hips to slow as he pressed his lips directly to your ear, "I'm going to cum inside, and you're going to beg for it."

Immediately you were begging for him too. It was and always had been your favorite part with him. The sensation of being filled left you warm and fluttering. The loud groan of Starshine, made you whimper as his hips stopped moving. Softly lowering you both to the mattress, he turned you to your side, not quite ready to slip out of you yet.

Heavy breathing filled the silence before he started placing soft kisses to your shoulder blade with a soft hum of happiness.

"Poe?" Your voice broke the silence, a soft groan leaving you as he pulled himself from you so you could turn and face him. Turning and locking eyes with his soft brown ones, you gave him a soft smile. "I love you Hotshot."

Pulling you closer, he nuzzled his nose against yours before giving you a gentle kiss. "I love you" he mumbled back against your lips, not pulling fully away. "Get some sleep."

—

Leia appeared behind you as you moved around your office, gathering maps and other papers for your meeting. Your anxiety was high, this was important. If everything went smoothly, you'd have new regions to chart and you wanted desperately to be the one out there charting.

"Breathe," came her soft voice as she grabbed your shoulders, "you're going to stress yourself out. Even without personal bias you'll be out there." She smiled at you then. Watching as you took a deep breath, "somethings different with you. Explain."

You didn't even bother attempting to play this off, "I'm pregnant," your voice was meek and full of nerves, but the smile on your face was bright. You and Poe had been trying for about a year now and hadn't told anyone. You were worried about so many things. Being a good parent was one of them but most important, how this would affect the upcoming expedition.

The beaming smile on Leia's face broke you out of your head. An equally as excited, "congratulations!!!" leaving her lips, as she quickly kissed you on the head. You could tell she had a million and one questions all of them relating to when this plan occurred and when you both decided now would be a good time.

Smiling at her, you patiently answered her questions. While she, technically, was no longer Queen, she was still your mother in law for all intents and purposes. One you loved dearly, and the joy she expressed over becoming a grandma brought tears to your eyes.

She was rambling on for a moment, before she suddenly stopped and looked at you, causing you to raise an eyebrow. "Have you told Poe?"

You let out a breathy laugh, "no, actually. As soon as I finished here, I was going too. If I don't get to go on the expedition, I want to at least have what we have ready," you gave her a soft smile. "He's going to be excited though, we've been actively trying for the past year." Looking at your open office door, you saw Poe coming and your face broke out in a smile, "now works actually."

"What works darling?" He asked, wrapping his arms around you for a quick hug, before giving you a quick kiss. Leia gave you both a beaming smile, before departing, causing Poe to raise an eyebrow. "That woman knows something I don't," he mused looking down at you.

With a grin, you nodded, "yes my love she does. Sit down!" You gently pushed him into the chair across from your desk.

With an eyebrow raised, he complied with your request, before patting his lap, expecting you to sit like you usually do. Laughing, you moved to grab the small box sitting on the corner of your desk before sitting in his lap.

Wrapping an arm around your waist, he used his other hand to grab the top of the box, "for me?" He asked, looking up at you. Softly nodding, you pressed a quick kiss to his head, before turning your attention back to the box in both of your hands. He gave a soft chuckle, his curious brain was running wild with ideas and thoughts. Gently opening the lid - admittedly with your assistance - he moved slightly to drop it to the floor. Reaching in he grabbed the first item, glancing towards his face, you watched his features. Confusion littered his features as he held a positive pregnancy test in his hands. Slowly his eyes lit up in recognition as his body tensed below you, the smile that took over his features was blinding. The deep brown of his eyes even looked a shade lighter in happiness as his eyes met yours. Before you could stop him, he took the box out of your hands and gently plopped it onto the floor. His hand quickly coming to rest on your stomach in awe.

Neither of you spoke, the pure joy that filled the room was palpable. You had no nerves about telling him and were glad he was as happy as he was. It brought a very very welcome sense of peace over you. You both were safe, ruling Hell with the best team of advisors you could ask for, and the cartographer you've been training loved it just as much as you did.

Your quiet moment of peace was quickly interrupted as a loud series of barks came running towards you both. Beebs charged in and immediately tried to jump into your lap as he usually would. His collar had a bandana wrapped around it, Baby Security in Training. You let out a laugh, knowing this was Leia's doing. "Before we tell everyone, I have to know," you began, turning slightly in his grip, "am I not going on the expedition now?" Your features showcased your worry, Poe and everyone else knew how excited you were at the chance to explore unknown lands. Your fingers were running along the back of his neck, occasionally slipping into his hair. It was an absent-minded movement, but a great weakness of Poe's.

"You're going," his voice was soft, "the first expedition is small, remember. We're only going to be gone for a month. I trust the sources and they warned of some dangerous areas but we have a specific expedition team for those ones." Leaning forward, he gently slotted his lips against yours. Free hand moving to cup your cheek as you moved to kiss him back in urgency. Poe's kisses always were your favorite. Not pulling entirely away, he mumbled against your lips "I love you," before pulling you harsher against him.

AN: Thank you so much for taking the time to read this series and for everyone's comments and enjoyment! I love you all very much! I'm a little sad that it's come to an end but excited to put love in future writing! I do have an updated taglist.

Forever Tags: @guccirosegold @creatively-analytical

The Devil’s Gift Taglist: @Jadealicious06

Poe Dameron Taglist: @doctoraceus @this-bitch-writes @dameronsgf @kaqua

Join my taglist here!

#poe dameron fluff #mirawrites #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron x female reader #poe dameron x you #the devil's gift #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron

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allie-scribbles · 2 years ago

Text

Harder to Hold [7]

Tags/Warnings: the slowest of burns, death of a character, grieving, alcoholism/bad drinking habits, unhealthy coping mechanisms, injuries

Chapter Index

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The next few weeks passed quickly. Jess and the rest of Black Squadron had been sent out on a few small missions, nothing out of the ordinary. All it really meant was that in addition to your usual work, you were busy trying not to worry about her. And, apparently, Poe.

No matter how much you tried to distract yourself with work, Poe was always at the back of your mind. You did your best to keep him there, you really did. But you found you couldn’t help it. You were desperate for his missions to go smoothly, and you wished it was because you cared about what their successes meant for the Resistance as a whole. If you were honest with yourself, though, it was because you were almost certain Poe felt he had no one to lean on when things went south. You feared that the next time something happened, it might break him for good.

So far, your worry had been unfounded. Black Squadron always came back, and each time they did you were rewarded with the usual crushing hug and performance notes from Jess. The new addition that threw you for a loop, however, was the small smile and wave Poe never failed to give you as he left the hangar. He never had time to stop and talk, but you were glad that was the case. You didn’t want him to see the stumbling mess you became around most people when you were sober, didn’t want him to know that the Y/N he had met weeks ago wasn’t the real Y/N. That she was an illusion fueled by alcohol, grief, and moonlight.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Your fear became reality one morning when they came limping back to base, battered and bruised. It should have been a simple mission to get information on the First Order’s movements: observe from a distance, then report back. But somewhere along the line it had gone horribly wrong… the details were muddy, but all you knew was that a skirmish had happened near a small, previously unknown outpost. The squadron had gotten away safely with no major injuries, but a few civilians had gotten caught in the crossfire.

The ships, however, weren’t in as good shape as their pilots. You had your hands full as soon as they got back, repairing the damage on Jess’ ship as well as helping out a few others with their work. The day passed in a whirlwind of grime, sweat, and cussing. Even Bruiser was busy, rolling across the hangar frantically, lending a hand to whoever needed it.

It was late by the time you were finally able to head back to your bunk. The work wasn’t done, but if you didn’t get some sleep you wouldn’t be able to actually fix anything correctly. You turned to Bruiser as you arranged your tools on your workbench, sighing. “Hell of a day, huh bud? Ready to turn in?”

Bruiser beeped and booped that he planned on staying up most of the night running tests, and that he would just charge up in the hangar tonight, not wanting to wake you when he did finish.

You smiled fondly at him, and bent down to give him a hug. “You don’t have to do that, B… it can wait till tomorrow. Let’s get some sleep.” It made a noise that sounded suspiciously like a snort - It’s power was at 68%, and would be just fine thank you. But you, on the other hand, looked like you needed to sleep for a year.

“Wow, you sure know how to flatter a girl, B.” you tease the droid. Knowing you couldn’t convince him otherwise, you gave him a last pat and said goodnight. He nudged your knee affectionately, and sped off to work.

Standing up, you stretched your aching body. All you wanted to do was collapse in bed, but you forced yourself to grab some clean clothes and a towel before heading down the hall to the communal ‘freshers to wash up. The last thing you needed to add to your ever growing to-do list was scrubbing grease stained sheets.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Feeling slightly better now that you were in pajamas and no longer grimy, you shuffled down the corridor back to your bunk. Maker, you needed sleep, and you needed it now.

Your door had barely shut behind you when you heard loud footsteps in the hall, followed by quiet knocking on your door. Rolling your eyes and letting out an exasperated groan, you turn around and yank the door open before whoever it was could finish knocking. It was probably a junior mechanic who had spied you coming back, and wanted help with something. You try not to sound too irritated at their intrusion, but fail. “Look, I know there’s more work to do, but I’m sorry, I’m beat. Find me tomorrow morning and I’ll help then, ok?”

As you finish your less-than-pleasant speech, you finally recognize the person in front of you. It’s Poe, a sad smile on his face. “Geeze, remind me to not ever ask you for anything late at night ever again,” he quips.

Your eyes widen and your stomach drops, anxiety setting in. Fuck, how much of an asshole must he think you are? “P-Poe!” You stammer, “I am so sorry, I thought you were one of the other mechanics coming to ask me to help them with something and I just don’t have the mental bandwidth to do that right now but if I had known it was you I wouldn’t have snapped like that I’m so sorry it’s just been a long day and I… shit I’m rambling I’m so sorry, did you need something?” You blush furiously, mentally kicking yourself for being so damned awkward.

To your surprise, Poe doesn’t seem to be annoyed like most people tend to be when your mouth is running faster than your brain. His smile has grown a little brighter, and his eyes hold a hint of amusement. When you meet his gaze though, the smile fades. He begins to shuffle his feet - this must be a nervous tic of his. He speaks, but shifts his gaze away from you as he does. “I know it’s late, but I’m glad I caught you. I was wondering, what you said by the forest… did you mean it?”

You quickly replay the morning in your mind, not that you need to. You remember all of it perfectly. You told him he didn’t have to ever face anything alone, not if he didn’t want to. You nod. “Of course I meant it, Poe”.

He runs his fingers through his hair. “Um, well… today… today was rough. And you don’t have to say yes if you don’t want to, really, no pressure. But, um, I’d really like to not be alone tonight, not if I don’t have to be.”

You barely caught the last part, his voice dropping to barely above a whisper. When what he says registers, you’re frozen in place. Poe fucking Dameron had a rough go and was coming to you for help. Wanted to be around you when he was hurting. What the hell was going on?

“Actually, forget I said anything, Y/N,” he blurts out. “I can’t imagine how tired you are, I know the ships were in bad shape and you must’ve had a long day. I’ll just let you get some sleep.” He quickly turns to leave, but before he can get two steps down the hall he’s stopped by your hand on his forearm.

Slightly shocked at your own actions - you’d swear your arm moved of its own accord - you stare at him, trying to appear more confident than you feel. “Poe, get your ass in here,” you command, not unkindly. When he doesn’t move, you gently pull him towards you. With a sigh of relief you suspect he thought was quieter than it actually was, he follows you into your bunk.

When the door shuts, you finally get a good look at him. Everyone knows Poe is handsome… dark curls, warm eyes, and a smile that could knock the breath right out of you. Even though all of that is still there, his hair is disheveled and still wet from the ‘fresher. His eyes don’t have that glint of mischief in them, and are ringed with red. He’s smiling, but it’s weak and fading fast. The man before you wasn’t the Poe everyone else knew, and your heart broke for him all over again.

Being around people you didn’t know well stressed you out, and Poe definitely was still in that category. But your anxiety had a loophole: if someone was in distress, a twisted maternal instinct took over, forcing your nerves to slink off and hide in the recesses of your mind. And in this moment, who he normally was didn’t matter. The Poe standing in your bunk needed someone to take care of him, to lift the burden of being a leader from his shoulders for one night so he could feel freely without fear of ridicule. So that’s what you were going to do.

He glances around your bunk, shifting on his feet, obviously a little uncomfortable intruding on your personal space. It was messy, but still organized. The desk was littered with manuals and hastily scrawled notes, blueprints for new mods tacked up on the wall above it. Your hammock hung in the corner, a blanket halfway out of it. The walls around it and your bed were covered in sketches of ships, both old and new. On your clothes cabinet, a small holoprojector flipped through a few photos of you, Wills, Jess, and Cade.

“It’s not much, but it’s home”, you shrug, wanting to put him at ease. He wanders over to look at the sketches of the ships, a genuine smile crossing his face. “These are amazing! Did you draw all of these?”

You smile at the sketches, laugh quietly. “I wish. I have zero artistic ability. My brother drew them.”

“Well, he certainly has a gift.” You hum your agreement, not bothering to correct him. Had a gift. As Poe finishes looking at the sketches he turns to you, smile fading completely. “Y/N…” he begins, but you cut him off. “Poe, stop.” He looks at you, confused and a bit taken aback by your firm tone. But when you sit on the bed and motion for him to sit next to you, he does.

You turn your body slightly, so you’re facing him. “Do you want to talk about it?” you question, your voice gentler than before. He sighs, rubbing the back of his neck. “Not really.”

“That’s fine. Do you want to talk at all?” He looks at you, dejected. “No,” he says quietly, almost as if he’s embarrassed. “I just… I needed to be around someone who doesn’t expect anything from me. And I thought after that night, maybe you knew what that felt like… and maybe you wouldn’t judge me for needing it.” Tears start to form in the corners of his eyes, and he quickly turns away from you.

You fight a sudden urge to envelop him in a hug, to try to physically hold together the pieces of the fractured man in front of you. Instead, you force yourself to stand up. Walking over to the control panel, you dim the lights to a soft glow. You return to the edge of the bed, and kneel in front of him.

Gently covering one of his hands with both of yours, you murmur his name and try to catch his eye. “Poe, I’ll be anything you need me to be, ok? Just let me know and I’ll be here for you.”

He still refuses to meet your gaze, but nods. You sigh, unsure of how to best help him. “Do you want me to talk about something? Take your mind off things?” He doesn’t respond. “Poe?”

He shakes his head, almost imperceptibly. “I don’t know, Y/N. I don’t know what I want, except to not be alone. Everyone else would just keep asking if I was ok, but you know I’m not. So can we just sit, and not bother pretending that everything is alright?”

You slowly release his hand, and stand up. “Of course, Poe,” you say softly. “I have some reading I wanted to do before bed, so I’m gonna go sit at my desk and do that. You can lay on my bed, climb in the hammock, pace, stare off into space, whatever you’d like. I’ll be here if you need me for anything. Even if it’s just knowing there’s someone with you.” He mumbles a barely audible thank you, and you turn towards your desk, trying to stop the tears threatening to spill from your own eyes.

Poe was restless, but he didn’t get up from your bed. At least, not that you could tell. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him, knowing that as soon as you saw him his pain would bleed into you, and you wouldn’t be able to stop your tears. You didn’t care if he saw you cry, not really. He’d already seen that. But you knew if you did, he’d immediately bury his feelings to try and comfort you. And Poe didn’t deserve that. He was always taking care of everyone else, and it was high time someone took care of him.

Two hours went by before you felt brave enough to turn and check on him, not having heard any noises for the past half hour. The sight before you tugged at your heartstrings: Poe was fast asleep and snoring lightly. His head rested on one of your pillows and his arms clutched the other tightly to his chest, while his legs dangled off the side of your small bed. You moved to wake him, assuming he would probably want to return to his own bed. But as you drew nearer, you stopped short. He looked so peaceful, finally at rest after a rough night, and you don’t have the heart to wake him up and rob him of what was probably the first good sleep he’d had in a long while.

Carefully pulling the blanket from where it was bunched up under his legs, you covered him. Without thinking, you tenderly let your hand wander to his forehead and brush a curl out of his eyes. You begin to tear up once again, wishing you could take away his pain. And before you know you’re speaking, you whisper out the thought that has been floating in your head ever since he walked in your door. “I’m so sorry, Poe. I’m so sorry you’re a good man, because if you weren’t all this would be so much easier for you.”

Slipping towards your hammock, you wad up a jacket to use as a pillow. You turn the lights completely off and hop up into it, covering yourself with your spare blanket. Only when you shut your eyes do you finally let the tears slip out as his even breathing lulls you to sleep.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You wake with a start, the sound of your alarm pounding in your ears. Maker, you were NOT a morning person. Slinging your legs over the side of what you’re sure is your bed, you stand up. And immediately land facedown on the ground, dumped out of your hammock unceremoniously by your favorite force: gravity.

Groaning, you shove yourself upright, still groggy. Why the hell were you sleeping in your hammock? You catch sight of the freshly made bed. Weird, you rarely made it. A piece of paper on the pillow catches your eye. Weirder. You grab it, and as you start to read the night before begins to come back.

Y/N,

I’m so sorry for sneaking out, I had a briefing early this morning. I was going to tell you goodbye, but you looked so cozy. I just couldn’t wake you.

Thanks again for… well, you know. You didn’t have to, but it means a lot that you did.

I hope I’ll see you around today.

Poe Dameron

You read the short note once, twice, three times. Hating how happy it made you that he cared enough to leave it, hoping that you had at least done some good for him. You set the note back down on your pillow as you get ready for the day.

You finish lacing up your boots and walk to the door, but turn back just before opening it. Grabbing the note, you quickly walk over to your desk and open a drawer. Just like the lake, last night was for you and Poe only, and you wanted to keep the memory safe. So you carefully tucked it next to the few meaningful keepsakes you owned in a small wooden box.

You shut the drawer with a flick of your wrist and set off to start your day, smiling for a reason you just couldn’t put your finger on.

#poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron fic #allie scribbles about poe dameron

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the-force-awakens · 2 years ago

Text

green green dress

poe dameron x f!reader (no pronouns, but coded language)

rating: explicit, 18+ only please!

word count: 4.7k+

warnings: smut, oral (f receiving), fingering, blink and you miss it hurt/comfort because i'm me

summary: after months of barely seeing each other, you and poe finally get a night to yourselves...and you surprise him with a new dress.

(can also be read on ao3)

The briefing wraps as it usually does, with Poe pushing himself off the holotable with a verbal dismissal of all in attendance that is affirmed by Leia's razor-sharp gaze and a slight incline of her head.

Supply runs are more commonplace now than intelligence operations — allies are sparse in the galaxy now, following the Hosnian calamity and the Battle of Crait — and more often than not, Poe is headlining those supply runs.

He rarely seems to ever remain on Ajan Kloss for more than a week now. There was the most recent mission to Minfar and before that, Tevel.

There's multiple reasons for that, you know. He's Leia's right hand man, for one, and there's no one else she trusts more with the future of the Resistance. His dogged single-mindedness has combined nicely with a renewed sense of caution and the kind of mature wisdom that is steeped in carbon scoring and the acrid scent of smoke, lessons hard-learned in the flurry of battle — the sort of weary insightfulness that only having strategies break down around you at the cost of your friends can bring.

As everyone disperses, you linger in the back corner, overlooking the datapad of recently gathered supplies you’d been neglecting, your attention drawn to Poe instinctually throughout the duration of the meeting.

His presence doesn’t carry the same demanding weight of Leia’s (it feels physically impossible to look away from Leia, like trying to fight against a powerful tidal wave in the ocean before being dragged under its surface), but it’s difficult to pry your eyes away from him too in a different way. It’s like being pulled into a gravity well, watching him lead the discussions: his rich voice commands the room in a softer way than Leia’s, but is no less authoritative.

But you would be lying if you said half of the reason your focus was so solidly on Poe wasn’t because you had been distracted by the sight of him. Most of the trips he’s been taking have been in the Falcon, so there’s been little requirement for him to wear a flight suit of late.

However, this morning he and Artoo had gone on a system patrol, and he’d barely touched down before he had to rush into the meeting - which means that he hadn’t had time to change outside of removing the outer vest, his hair still matted down from his helmet and his cheeks somewhat flushed from his jog to the briefing room.

In sum, his appearance was as distracting as seeing him easily slip into commander mode again.

Particularly since throughout most of the conversation, he’d kept his arms folded against his chest as he listened intently to what each officer had to say (occasionally trading silent glances with Leia), which only emphasized how broad he is. It’s hard to remember sometimes, the way that the flight suit hangs on him; somehow the cut of it makes him look smaller than he is.

But not this afternoon. Your gaze snagged on the popped open collar more than once, the tantalizing cord of his neck, sweeping further down to where the sight of his bare skin vanished under the thick protective material, mind drifting off more than once to memories of the soft muscles underneath.

You get so distracted again by this line of thought that you don't hear Poe say your name until he says it a second time. You look up from your datapad (retaining exactly jackshit from the supply list you're supposed to be memorizing) to find him smiling at you, his nose half scrunched up with the strength of his grin, like he knows what you were thinking about.

He probably does, too. He'd caught you out more than once during the meeting, and while his voice had never wavered, you'd noticed the way the muscles in his jaw clenched as he forced himself to focus again at the task at hand, that had only turned your focus to his stubble which has seen an increase of gray.

You swallow, trying desperately to ignore how conscious you are of your own body now that he's this close - enough that he floods your senses, his warmth prickling against your skin, his boots bumping into yours.

“Where'd you go?” Poe asks as you realize the room has cleared out, leaving the two of you alone. It's the first time in ages you can remember having time to yourself with him and your heart seizes with the realization, your body relaxing at his presence even though you still feel like a livewire from his nearness.

You know one thing he's always loved about you is your frankness, so you don't even try to come up with a more innocent explanation, instead answering honestly. “Thinking about you.”

His hands find a home on your hips, pulling you against him. “Yeah? Let me guess…you were thinking about how much of a bed hog I am right?”

You snort. He did have a bad habit of sprawling out in his sleep; before you got together, you found it to be endearing. Now, after nearly being shoved off the bed more than once during the middle of the night with his wiggling, it's less so.

“I mean…I was thinking about you in bed.”

Your feigned innocence is met with a sharp intake of breath, and you realize that maybe he hadn't realized why you'd been staring — or at least not the full extent of how much you wanted him.

“Maker,” he mutters, dipping low to kiss you. You hum against his mouth, eyes slipping shut as your heart bursts over the fact that he's home again, that you can twine your arms around his neck, that he's yours.

When you break apart, he doesn't immediately open his eyes, so you have a chance to appreciate the way his dark lashes brush the very tips of his cheekbones, the bliss on his face, the crease between his eyebrows as he takes another shaky breath.

All because he knew you'd been daydreaming about him, because of the way you'd kissed him. Maker, no drink could ever make you feel as drunkenly giddy as the way knowing you had this power over him did.

When he does finally open his eyes, and speaks again, his voice is just that much rougher that you squeeze your thighs together automatically. “Are you off tonight?”

“Y-yeah.”

“Good,” he splays his hand against the side of your neck, fingers brushing the underside of your jaw. “I'm off too.”

Those three words are as magnificent as they are simple. Your eyes widen with delight, as Poe's grin broadens, brightening his face to the point it almost hurts to look at him. But it's the most divine kind of hurt, so you don't. “No patrols?”

“None.”

“Supply runs?”

“Much to Chewie's elation, also none.”

You smirk at that. Chewbacca's frustration with Poe's out of the box and occasionally reckless flight styles was well known around the base. Every time you saw him, you had the urge to remind him that you've heard stories of some of the more dangerous things Chewie has pulled off in the infamous ship.

“No paperwork with the General?”

“I think jefa might kill me if I so much as look at a datapad today.” There's a story there, you know. Can see it in the way his face softens with memory, his voice gentle with affection. You can easily picture Leia ordering him to take the night off after so much constant work in the past few months.

You're grateful he took her up on it.

“So what do you have in the cards for this evening, Commander?"

“Time alone with you,” Poe says. “Don't care what we do, I just - I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” you tell him, proud that you're able to get the words out from around the wad of emotion that's balled up low in your throat.

Poe presses his forehead to yours and you sigh down your nostrils, closing your eyes to luxuriate in the fact that you have him for the rest of the day.

“If we're having a date night,” you tell him after a minute, “I'm getting changed.”

Poe pulls back, frowning slightly at the pair of overalls you're wearing. They're grease stained and baggy, but he acts like it's the best thing he's ever seen. “What's wrong with this look?”

Nothing. You know from experience that Poe can get turned on just by you unzipping the top half of your jumpsuit down far enough that he can freely see your collarbone. But…

You lean in and whisper against his ear, “I got something I think you'll like.”

He swallows audibly and when you pull back, he nods once. “Yes, ma'am.”

You laugh and push him gently. “Go hit the showers, Commander. That's an order.”

“Bossy,” Poe retorts fondly, dipping down to kiss you sweetly one last time. “I'll comm you where to meet me.”

A thrill zips through your veins. “Can't wait.”

- - -

You smooth your hands down the skirt of your dress for what must be the millionth time as you pad quietly down the twisting and carbon scoring marked corridors of the Tantive IV.

It's where most of senior command stay, if only so they can remain close to Leia's office in case she requires any aid or an emergency meeting has to be held among (what little) leaders remain.

You'd passed D'Acy earlier and she'd given you a kindly smile and complimented the dress you were wearing, before pointing you in the right direction of where you were supposed to meet with Poe.

It was in one of the lesser used portions of the ships: you had to pass through a circular meeting room to find the adjacent room Poe had sent you the coordinates to.

You hit the control panel but rather than opening, it buzzes angrily at you, the lights flashing red. You frown and hit it again to no avail -

And then you hear, muffled through the other side of the door, “Password?”

You sigh exasperatedly, not even bothering to fight the urge to roll your eyes. “What happened to 'I miss you’, flyboy?”

The door swishes open then, with an hydraulic hiss, Poe leaning against the jamb in nothing but a soft grey tunic and those distractingly well-fitting trousers you love so much.

“Gotta have my fun somehow,” is what you think he means to say but he gets strangled halfway through, the words jumbling up into an incoherent noise as he takes in your appearance.

You can't help but smirk at his reaction, making a show of sweeping your tongue across your bottom lip: his eyes snap to your mouth, his throat bobbing.

Suralinda had found the dress during one of your own supply runs and despite the fact that it wasn't an essential item, she'd insisted you take it back to base anyway.

It was short, not even touching your kneecaps properly, and a deep verdant green that reminded you of the Massassi trees of Yavin IV, with thin straps that would otherwise show off your shoulders and arms but you'd thrown the brown-black jacket Poe'd given you after Crait over it to ward off the constant chill that lingered in the CR90 Corvette.

You reach out and gently push on his jaw from where it'd fallen slack. It only makes his eyes widen further.

“Where'd you go?” You ask, purposely echoing his question from his afternoon.

Poe's lips curl up, realizing what you're up to as you take a step closer to him. “Thinking about you.”

“Yeah?” You push up on your toes, brushing a loose curl away from his forehead, then let your hand skim down the side of his neck, stopping briefly to run your fingertips along the cool chain of his necklace, your expression softening.

“Yeah,” Poe confirms, barely a whisper as he tugs you to him. “I'm always thinking about you. You're hard to get out of my head.”

You laugh at that. “I hope you hear me whenever you try something foolish in your X-Wing.”

Poe rubs his nose against yours with a little giggle. “I do, yeah. Makes me fly a little faster every time.”

“Not as reassuring as you think it sounds, flyboy.”

“Mn. I'd rather you be pissed off at me than never seeing you again,” Poe says, with the same kind of sincerity that he says everything and you think your heart stops a little bit.

You search his face for a beat before admitting quietly, somewhat guiltily, “I'd rather we just have this. All the time.”

This being each other. You were both always busy on D'Qar but there were still evenings when you got to sleep in the same bed, sneaking into each other's rooms for movie nights or just to cuddle. Now, it feels like you only get a couple hours together every few weeks.

“Yeah. Yeah, me too.”

Poe guides you further inside, backing up into the darkened room. There's no lights on and a handful of tactical screens have been shoved inside for storage, throwing out a gentle verdant glow that does incredibly little to ward away the shadows.

But it's comforting in its own peculiar way; familiar but new, kind of like the two of you now, after everything that's happened.

There's a little picnic set up he's put out in the corner of the room. It's endearing, just like the rest of him. But at the moment, food is the last thought on your mind and you're not eager to part from him just yet.

“What's the plan for the evening, Commander?”

Poe preens just a bit at the usage of his title. “Thought we'd have dinner later, maybe watch the stars after.”

You hum. “And your immediate plans?”

“My immediate plans…” Poe pretends to mull this over for a moment. “Is asking if I can kiss you.”

His expression is so raw, unguarded and full of love that it plucks at your heartstrings as you nod. He slowly leans in, like you've both got all the time in the world.

Poe's lips are parted as they meet yours in a languid kiss, his hand snaking around your neck to pull you closer, his other hand moving underneath the center of your back. He makes a noise of approval as he finds the cut-out in the back, his fingers warm as they press more certainly against the small of your back.

Gradually, it becomes more than just a single kiss. The longing of the last few weeks still pulses through each of your veins, and soon you're clutching at his shirt while he sweeps his tongue into your mouth, tilting his head for a better angle, and succeeding in pulling a moan from the back of your throat.

His hand slides down your neck, gripping your leather jacket to pull it off your shoulder, brow furrowed in concentration as he tastes the caf on your tongue from earlier, as your warm breath mingles with his.

You shift so he can remove the jacket, and it falls to the floor with a soft thump that only prompts you into pushing against him, guiding him backwards until he bumps into the edge of the holotable, running your fingers through his soft ashy black curls like you've been wanting to do again for so kriffin' long.

It doesn't take long for Poe to spin you around and pin you against the table instead, pressing his knee between your legs. He pulls his mouth away from yours long enough to pepper feather-like kisses along your jawline, down your neck, and back up again and it's wonderful.

And it gets even more wonderful when his thigh rocks up between yours, grinding up against your core and you can't help the low whine that escapes your lips as Poe's hand pushes you forward so you're flush together.

You press your face into the crook of his neck, rolling your hips forward trying to get extra friction but it's still not enough so you huff in frustration. Poe draws away from you, glancing down at you while massaging the apple of your cheek with one hand. “Hey, I gotcha. What do you want?"

He already looks thoroughly wrecked, hair askew and his cheeks darkened as he pants softly, all just from making out with you. He also looks the happiest he's been in a long time.

Which means your voice is more saturated with fondness than it is with desire when you answer him. “You. I just want you.”

He rewards your honesty by brushing his lips against yours in a lingering kiss. “I can work with that.”

Poe sinks down to his knees then, one eyebrow cocking slightly as a pleased grin tugs on his features over the way your breath hitches in your chest, warm expansive hands curving around your legs.

You're grateful for the holotable behind you, if only so you have something to brace yourself against. Its support is probably the only thing keeping you standing upright as his hands draw further up to the bend of your knees.

Poe presses a kiss to the side of your kneecap before looking back up to ask, earnest as ever, “Is this good?”

You nod a couple times, but his eyebrow only raises further, and he doesn't budge an inch. You swallow and whisper, “Yeah.”

He nods then, satisfied with the verbal confirmation, and gently pushes your legs to spread them further apart.

“Hold on to something,” Poe instructs you as his palms skim further up your legs, under the skirt of the sundress.

By now, your heart is already slamming against your ribcage in anticipation, as he adjusts his position on the floor so he can press feather-like kisses in the wake of his touch.

You grip tight to the edge of the table, torn between wanting to stare up at the ceiling to have something to ground yourself with and being unable to look away from Poe; the way the light from the tactical screens sets an ethereal glow against his skin, the shadows of the room adding extra definition to his jawline, his curls — still thoroughly mussed from where you'd been threading your fingers through them with reckless abandon while he licked into your mouth earlier.

He's beautiful and he's yours and that only makes another tremor run up your spine, enough that another shaky exhale of air escapes your mouth, before Poe's fingers tuck themselves into your underwear and he groans a little as he finds the wet spot there. He rises up on his knees, pulling the item down a little and then in the next second, you can feel his warm breath through them just before he takes the fabric between his teeth and tugs them down.

There’s absolutely no way you’re going to last very long, not when your breath is already as shallow as it is, and just his close proximity to where you want him already has your clit aching for attention.

By the time your underwear gets to your knees, Poe gets impatient and releases them from between his teeth so he can pull the offending item down your legs, gently lifting your ankles up so he can toss it aside for the time being in one quick, smooth motion.

You're really glad he has the clearance to lock this room from the inside; even more grateful that it's in such a state of disuse that it's unlikely anyone would have reason to override the command and find the pair of you.

He noses back up to your inner thighs, nipping the soft skin there playfully, enough to make you jump. He exhales a tiny laugh then, so you gently bang the inside of your knee against his shoulder, unable to stop yourself from smiling too.

He wraps one warm, calloused hand around your knee then, spreading you out further. Every fleeting brush of his hands is enough to ratchet up the tension throughout your body, the near unbearable ache of needing him. It's been so fucking long since the two of you had any time together, even longer since he's been inside of you in any form.

You crave that closeness again, desperate enough for it that your hips roll forward instinctually.

Poe gently pushes you back, but finally gives in and strokes his tongue between your folds. His name punches out of you like a prayer or a curse, making him groan. He's always liked hearing you whine his name.

You hiss, head dropping back as he slides his tongue up to your clit, your legs shaking as every rational thought in your head vanishes. Hell, the rest of the galaxy feels like a distant fucking memory as Poe sucks on your clit, making you gasp, just before he presses two fingers inside you.

Your heart stutters at the feeling of him again, clenching down around him in need, soaking his hand even more. You hear a moan, and it takes a minute to realize it didn't come from you.

You glance down and immediately your stomach flips at the sight of Poe, his fingers thrusting lazily in and out of you. His cheeks are flushed, his chest heaving, eyes blown wide with desire.

He must realize you're looking because he meets your gazed expression abruptly as he hooks his fingers against that one spot that makes you hiss in pleasure.

“All for me,” he says, tone edged with desire, as he removes his fingers. You whine at the loss, but he quickly replaces them with his tongue and then thinking is entirely out of the question.

One of your favorite things about flying is how it forces you out of the spiral of your own thoughts; how there's no space to overthink, and you have to rely solely on your instincts. Even when there's nothing but chaos and destruction roaring around you in a dogfight, when up is suddenly down, you can't help but feel more grounded than you ever do when your boots are on duracrete.

And the way Poe fucks you with his tongue has the same damn effect. You might as well be burning sky right now, because the only thing you can focus on is him and your own arousal, the creeping sense of a freefall about to hit as he methodically and agonizingly slowly works you up higher and higher, his nose bumping against your hardened and neglected clit.

You're never particularly noisy besides a handful of easily smothered gasps, something Poe takes as a little bit of a challenge because he likes drawing as many little noises out of you as humanly possible.

And you know he's going to be priding himself on the loud keen that escapes your lips when you finally go careening off the edge, your climax hitting you forcefully, your legs nearly going out beneath you.

Poe steadies you but doesn't stop; he redirects his attention to your clit, brushing the tip of his tongue against it a handful of times to tease you until he grants you some mercy and licks a full proper swipe over it and you groan his name and a handful of other expletives, canting your hips forward for more more more —

And he does: he alternates between slow swipes across it, circling it with his tongue, or sucking outright on it. It's a dizzying cross between not enough and too much - already, a second orgasm is creeping up on you.

Your knuckles whiten as you grip onto the holotable tighter as he continues to eat you out from below with the kind of ruthless single-mindedness you've seen him have as he doggedly chases a target in his X-Wing or when he won't back down from an argument when he knows he's right.

And because he knows you, because he knows your body as well as his own, Poe knows the exact moment when to abruptly pull his mouth away from you before you can come a second time.

“What are you doing?” You demand, your voice trembling in the haze of your own desire and the throb of being so fucking close. The sudden rush of cold air against your cunt is as shocking as the abrupt absence of him that the most you can do as he stands up so he's at eye level with you is blink owlishly at him, with half the mind to punch him in the arm for being a fucking tease. You don't though, instead trying to focus on getting air back into your lungs.

He has the audacity to give you an lopsided smile at your frustrated tone, his big hands falling into place at your waist. “I wanna see your pretty face when you come,” Poe tells you, just earnest enough that you're almost inclined to ignore the amusement twinkling in his gorgeous dark eyes.

He bumps your nose with his and then adds in a rougher voice, “And I wanted to kiss you again.”

You swallow hard. “So kiss me.”

He does. And like every other time, you melt into it, marveling over how soft his lips are as they glide over yours. There's a confidence to the way he kisses, the same hyperfocus that makes him so good at everything else making him infuriatingly fantastic at this too.

You thread your fingers into his hair, tugging slightly and delighting in the gutteral noise you drag out of the back of his throat, the way his hands dig in at your hips, bunching up the fabric of your dress.

He lifts you up effortlessly to sit you on the edge of the holotable, the kiss growing more fevered and open mouthed as he steps in between your legs.

Poe wastes no time now in sliding his fingers deep back inside you, picking up a quicker pace than before, and you break out of the kiss to whimper against his lips.

“That's it,” he grunts, looking awestruck as he watches you while zeroing in on that one spot that makes you tip your head back wordlessly, your stomach tightening. “Come on…almost there.”

The lowness of his voice, the edge of anticipation and excitement that turns it jagged in the space between you has you gripping tight to his broad shoulders like a lifeline, biting down hard on your lip as you grind down against his hand.

“That's it baby,” he says again, leaning in to suck at your pulse point. The combined sensations of the flash of teeth against your skin and his rough fingers working in and out of your soaked count, are so overwhelming that your second orgasm crashes into you. “I got you.”

You cry out softly as your body seizes, cunt throbbing and then eventually fluttering against Poe's fingers as you come back to yourself. When you open your eyes, there's actual fuzzy black spots dancing around the room, framing Poe's smiling face when he slips his fingers out of you.

You want to tell him he's the most beautiful person in the galaxy, that you love how wrecked he gets just from taking you apart; want to tell him that he means fucking everything to you, in ways that words can never properly articulate. But your mouth doesn't want to work, so you smile dopily back at him instead and whisper, “Hi.”

“Hi,” Poe repeats, eyes crinkling at the corners as he tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear, lingering for a second. He hums contemplatively. “How do you feel about walking?”

You try to lift your leg up but it's practically dead weight after your last orgasm. “I think it's a trite practice,” you tell Poe primly, making him laugh. “Why?"

“Well…” he feigns casualness for a moment, teasing circles with his thumbs against your thighs again. Then the facade drops, his eyes sparking as he says, “Just curious if I'm gonna be eating you out again on this table or in our bed later, since I didn't get to see your face the second time either.”

You scoot your butt back further on the table, before leaning back and propping yourself up on your elbows, watching him with raised eyebrows as you spread yourself out for him again. “Why not both, hotshot. We've got lost time to make up for.”

“You're going to be the death of me,” Poe scolds half-heartedly as he returns to his earlier activity of peppering kisses along your legs.

“Oh no,” you promise breathily, already fantasizing about returning the favor, "that'll come later.”

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron imagine #myfic #reader fic

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