#this is about poe dameron btw

[dameronalone]

interest so special I never take my eyes off of him when he's on screen even if he's literally not in focus

[thunderblazz]

Stole mya’s idea hiii👋👋👋

[deafblindshorty]

"You were a spice runner?!" "Poe Dameron. Spice Runner. Runner of spice. Get your spice!" ("Well, I'm not Leia.") "That's for damn sure."

[c0smic-coral]

ME!!!!!

his haaiiiirrrr~

Who Wished They Had This Lady's Job?

[mystic-writings]

i love you, we’re okay | poe dameron

PAIRING — poe dameron x fem!reader

SUMMARY — when poe finally returns from an unexpectedly long mission, you have something to tell him. 

WARNINGS — pregnancy, fluff, mentions of sex, suggestive scenes (but not really), mentions of vomiting, real-word cursing

WORD COUNT — 3,375

NOTES — the pipeline that led me to writing this is actually insane btw! couldn’t explain it if i tried, but this is my first attempt at writing for poe since 2020, so i’m still rusty on the star wars slang/lingo!

masterlist | taglist

You’d never found more solace, more protection from the state of the world around you than you’d ever found in Poe’s arms. It was usually your favourite place to be — and one of the reasons why you hated when he went on missions so often. That, and the sole possibility that he might not make it back. 

It was why you cherished the days when he made it back to D’Qar, straight back to you. 

You’d been both eager and entirely too worried for his return this time around, a simple mission taking entirely too long to complete. When he’d first told you about it, he promised he’d be back in a week at the longest. That week turned into two, turned into three, and you were nearly worried half to death until you were awoken by your datapad, the sun barely cresting the horizon as it beeped incessantly, a transmission from Leia herself stating that Poe was in the debriefing room with her. 

She’d relieved you both from your duties for the day, supposedly just to spend time together after being apart for so long. You knew the intent behind her message, the subtle jab at the surprise you were hiding from your boyfriend, and you fully planned to follow through the moment you saw him. 

And then he was showing up at your door, hands pulling at fabric and lips meeting skin, and the rest of the world simply fell away, leaving only you and Poe at the centre of the universe, showing each other exactly how much you’d missed one another. 

The sun was surely up by now, as Poe rolled onto the bed next to you, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths, his lips stretched with that beautiful post-sex smile that always left you breathless. Shifting under the sheets, you reached out to pull him close, relishing the way he so easily fell into your body; his face settling in the crook of your neck, breaths fanning across your sweat-slick skin, an arm falling across your torso. 

You settled into the mattress, your hand reaching up to gently scratch at Poe’s scalp. He hummed contentedly, wriggling beside you in an attempt to get closer to you, as though your bodies weren’t already pressed together. 

“Poe?”

“Hmm,” he hummed, somewhere between a groan and something more inquisitive, muffled by your shoulder. 

“I’m glad you’re back,” you whispered as you stopped scratching his scalp, pressing a light kiss to his hair, doing very little to fight the way your sudden, oncoming tears wavered your voice. 

Poe lifted his head, worried eyes meeting your tear-filled ones. He propped himself up on his elbow, reaching up to brush stray hairs from your forehead, his fingers lingering as they drifted down your face. “Hey, I’m okay. I didn’t get hurt. I’m right here, alright?” 

Your heart swelled as Poe spoke, the comfort in his assuring, gentle tone bringing a fresh wave of tears to your eyes. He always had a habit of doing that, of making sure you were okay. Making sure you knew he wasn’t planning on going anywhere you couldn’t reach him. You nodded, doing your best to blink away the tears, though all you managed to do was make them fall. 

Poe’s hand returned to your face almost immediately, the calloused pad of his thumb sweeping gently across your cheek, wiping away any trace of your unease. A quiet sigh escaped him as you leaned into his touch, his palm splaying across the side of your face, allowing you to soak up his warmth. “What’s wrong, baby?” 

“Nothing’s wrong,” you choked out, reddened eyes opening to meet his worried ones. “I promise, Poe. You were just gone for so long, and I…” a sharp inhale, a beat of anxiety, your eyes locked with his as you forced the words out in one big breath. “I’m pregnant.” 

Poe remained silent as his eyes searched yours, and you could practically see the gears turning in his head. For a moment, you worried that this wasn’t what Poe wanted; that he would leave, without a word, and abandon you entirely. And then, like the sun splitting the clouds after a rainstorm, Poe’s lips stretched into a smile bigger and brighter than you’ve ever seen. 

“Really?” He asked, breathless as he took you in, watching a matching smile spread across your own lips. 

You nodded, fresh tears coming to your eyes, glimmering and unshed. Happy tears. With another inhale, you glanced down at the space between you, soon to be filled by a swelling stomach and the life you created. “I’m still trying to wrap my head around it, y’know? And I’ve known for, like, two weeks,”

“Are you doing okay?” Poe asked, his hand drifting to your waist, fingers gently grazing against the skin of your stomach. “Any morning sickness? Or are you not that far yet? Do you know how many weeks yet? What about fatigue?”

He prattled the questions off so quickly that you could barely process them, a giggle escaping your lips and promptly cutting him off. Poe frowned, making you laugh even harder. “What’s so funny? Am I not allowed to be concerned here?”

“No, you’re perfectly allowed to be concerned, Poe,” you took a breath, calming yourself as much as you could. A wide, playful smile still split your lips as you spoke. “I just… where did you learn all of that?”

“Hey, I read,” Poe defended. 

“You read… pregnancy books?” You asked, fighting laughter once again. 

“Okay, not pregnancy books. But my mom… her friend was pregnant when I was younger, they used to talk about a lot of that stuff together and it just sort of… stuck, I guess,” Poe shrugged, pressing a chaste kiss to your lips. “Now, tell me everything.”

You huffed playfully as Poe rolled over, sitting up and adjusting the pillows behind him. Leaning against the wall, he pulled you into his lap, keeping one hand on your hip and the other loosely wrapped around your bare torso as you rested your head on his shoulder. 

“They said I was about seven weeks when I found out,” you began, fingers running along the chain Poe kept around his neck, hosting his mother’s ring. “So… I’m almost nine weeks along now? Ish?” 

Poe hummed, his fingers brushing absently against your stomach. “No nausea, surprisingly. Except the one time, but I’ll get to that. I haven’t done a scan yet, though. Was waiting for you to get back.”

You glanced up, finding Poe’s eyes already on you, a gentle smile on his face. “I didn’t want you to miss anything.” 

“I know,” he whispered, pressing a kiss to your hairline. “Thank you.” 

You smiled back in response, deciding to finally get to the good part. “As for how I found out…” 

“Y/n, you have to stop working so hard,” you hadn’t even heard Rose approach you from behind, your head practically buried in the underbelly of one of the older, disused A-Wings. 

Sighing, you took a step down from your ladder, squinting at your friend. “I’ll be fine, Rose. I’ve almost got this thing back to combat ready, anyway.”

“You need to eat. And shower. And rest.” Rose insisted as gently as she was able, crossing her arms as she stared you down. “How long have you been out here, anyway?”

You huffed, stepping from the ladder, moving closer to Rose in order to reach your toolbox, which she’d conveniently been standing beside. Her eyes followed you as you dropped your soldering wand, grabbing a rag to wipe your hands. 

“What’s it matter, Rose? I’m fine. I’ve gotta get this damn thing fixed before Poe gets back so he can dock his X-Wing here, and I’d rather get it done now, since—” you huffed, frustrated at your own body for betraying you and allowing your chest to constrict, for letting your eyes fill with tears as you throw down the rag, pulling at the zipper on your jumpsuit, pulling it down to the waist, revealing your sweat-soaked tank top and allowing your skin to breathe. “—since apparently no one knows when that’s gonna be.” 

Rose’s eyes softened, her hands falling back to their sides as she watched you panic, frantic fingers pulling at your suit, fumbling to tie the arms around your waist. “Y/n, come inside. Get something to drink, please. You’re gonna hurt yourself like this.” 

“I’ll be fine,” you whispered, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I’ll be fine. Just need to keep— keep working.” 

You pressed your fingers to your eyes, practically swaying as a wave of nausea rolled over you, practically knocking you off your feet. You heard Rose call your name, worried and shaky as she watched cautiously. Trying to tamp it down, you took a deep breath, almost instantly regretting the action. Instead of the cool air you were hoping to breathe in, all you smelled was char from the soldering wand, the smell of metal and grease and sweat infiltrating your senses and bringing the bile in your stomach all the way up your throat. 

Your hand flew to cover your mouth, eyes flying open to make brief contact with Rose before you darted to the other corner of the docking bay, emptying what little you’d been able to eat for breakfast into a waste bin. It was uncomfortable to say the least, but Rose’s heavy footfalls eventually faded, followed immediately by a soothing hand rubbing circles on your back. 

When you were finally done, heaving and out of breath, Rose helped you stand. 

“Are you going to listen to me now and get some rest?” Rose asked, more sympathetic than authoritative. 

Murmuring a confirmation that you were, indeed, going to take a break, you leaned into her small form, eyes fluttering closed to take a moment to properly breathe. The taste lingered in your mouth, acidic and bitter, making your stomach want to turn on you again. Your skin seemed to develop another layer of sweat, sticky and gross as it clung to you. 

Rose stuck close as you began walking on your own, stumbling as you headed to the docking bay’s entrance, your head spinning almost violently. You didn’t even get the chance to mutter your friend’s name before you felt your knees giving out, the world falling around you, fading into nothing before you even hit the ground. 

“You worked yourself half to death?” Poe asked, an edge to his voice, making your shoulders tense. “That’s how you found out?”

“I didn’t work myself to death,” you muttered, lifting your head to meet Poe’s eyes. “I just… worked on the A-Wing for a bit too long, that’s all. They fixed me up nice and new in the medbay, anyway.” 

“And how long is ‘a bit too long’, exactly?”

“Uh…” you hummed, trying to stall for time before you eventually muttered, “Eleven and a half hours,” 

“Maker—!” Poe groaned, lightly hitting his forehead with yours, his eyes squeezed shut. He took a breath, grounding himself as he squeezed your hip before pulling back and looking at you. “You know you can’t work for that long even when you’re not pregnant, right? That’s way too dangerous!”

“I needed something to keep me busy!” You blurted, winding an arm around Poe’s neck, adjusting yourself. “I couldn’t— you not being here, not getting any communication from you, it terrified me, Poe. Not knowing if or when you were coming home, I couldn’t think about it. So I worked on the A-Wing.” 

Poe sighed, squeezing your hip one more time. “I’m sorry. For not… for not telling you it was gonna take longer. We weren’t allowed any communication. Too close to the First Order, they would’ve tracked it right to you.” 

“It’s okay, Poe.” You whispered, tangling your fingers in the curls at the nape of his neck. “You’re here. You’re alive. That’s enough.”

You woke with a sharp breath, a pounding in your head, and harsh light bleeding through your eyelids. Pressing the heel of your palm to your temple, something snagged on the back of your hand. Pulling back, you forced your eyes open despite the bright, sterile lighting, finding an IV taped expertly to your skin. 

Glancing around, you groaned when you realised you were in the medbay. Heaving a sigh, you pushed yourself into a sitting position, which was much harder to do when your bed was already at an angle. 

The trills and beeps of a droid caught your attention, the bed rising to meet your back as a med-droid beeped happily at your conscious presence. “Good evening, Miss Y/n! You’re finally awake!”  

“What happened to me, exactly?” You rasped, coughing slightly at the dryness of your throat. Almost immediately, the droid handed you some water, which you took gratefully even if you were already getting fluids from the IV. 

“You fainted, Miss Y/n!” The droid was all too chipper about your accident, forcing you to bite back a groan. “My scans indicate that you are dehydrated and lacking proper nutrition, Miss Y/n. The fluids are administering proper hydration and vitamins.”

You nodded gently, still aware of the present, but lessening, throbbing in your head. “Anything else? Anything General Organa can yell at me for later?”

“My scans do not indicate any  life-threatening conditions, Miss Y/n.” The droid informed you, and you felt your chest get a little bit lighter. “But I did detect a secondary life form, Miss Y/n. Congratulations! Would you like to see?”

The med-droid’s words caught you off guard, stealing the breath from your lungs as you stared at it, entirely hung up on three words, spoken in a metallic, chittering voice. Secondary life form. When you finally found your voice, you squeaked out, “Secondary life form?”

“Yes, Miss Y/n. It appears you’re pregnant! According to my scans, you’re approximately seven weeks!” The droid chittered, trilling and beeping away after the fact. “Shall I inform General Organa?”

“No!” You nearly shouted, fear shooting through your nerves. “No, thank you. Just… call her here, please?”

The droid rolled away, chittering an enthusiastic ‘yes, Miss Y/n!’, and you gave yourself the moment alone to catch your breath, properly. The air was tinged with the scent of medical grade disinfectant, burning your nostrils as you breathed it in. You closed your eyes, following what felt like a thousand different trains of thought, all of them landing on one of two things: Poe, and what this would do to your future with the resistance. 

You hadn’t talked about it much with Poe, but you knew he’d always wanted a family. Of course, all of the times either of you had brought it up — about three times in total between both of you — the dreams he’d had about building a family always came after the war. When the world was safe and he was free to live whatever life he wanted, wherever he wanted it. Of course, knowing Poe, that life would take place on Yavin-4, where his father could see his son happy and his grandchildren thriving. 

What would he have to say about this? About you, pregnant on a rebel base that could be attacked at a moment’s notice, unable to properly defend yourself? What would you do with yourself, unable to fight, taking care of the most vulnerable being in the galaxy? 

You didn’t bother thinking about it further, knowing that it would only push you into a spiral. Thankfully, the medbay doors hissed open, revealing a relieved General Organa, pushing through and rushing to your bed. 

“Are you okay?” Her maternal instinct seemed to be strong when it came to you and Poe, though she’d never explained why. “Rose told me you were in the medbay, then I got the transmission from the med-droid that you were awake. What happened?”

Your cheeks flushed as you ducked your head, embarrassed as you recounted the events to your general. “I overworked myself, General. But I, uh, the droid told me something else. I thought you would want to know—” 

“Is there something wrong?” Her voice was calm, steady, and warm. Your chest swelled, most of your anxieties slipping away. 

“Not quite, General, I— the droid said I’m pregnant.” Your voice faltered for a moment as your eyes met hers, your confidence flickering ever so slightly when she didn’t give a response. “General?”

“Effective immediately, you’re no longer allowed on active duty,” General Organa said, her voice still warm. A slight smile crossed her lips, despite the professionalism she took on. “I want you on light duty from here on out, Y/n. Until you’re 14 weeks, you may work on repairs, but after that, you’ll be supervising, nothing more. The engineers have space for you to assist with their material designs, and training is lacking as of late.” 

Neither of you spoke for a moment as you processed her instructions, deflating slightly at the idea of not quite being able to do what you enjoyed for a while, but you were glad that you could still work nonetheless. 

Another beat of silence, General Organa’s widening smile, then, “Congratulations. I can’t imagine how happy you must be.” 

You chuckled, watching the General place her hand gently atop your own. “It’s… more nerve wracking than anything, actually. I don’t think I’ll have the space to be happy about it until I tell Poe.” 

“If there’s anything I can guarantee, it’s that this is a good thing.” She assured, squeezing your fingers. “You’ll make great parents, both of you.” 

“Thank you,” you whispered in a shuddering breath, turning your hand over and taking the General’s hand in yours. “That means more than you know.” 

Nodding gently, General Organa squeezed your hand once more before departing to draft the papers for your altered work restrictions and removal from active duty, leaving you in a silent room to process the news by yourself. 

“Leia let me stay on long enough to finish the A-Wing,” you murmured, Poe’s face long since nestled in the crook of your neck, your lips ghosting against his neck. “Got it done, with Rose supervising. Made me take a break every hour. Slowed me down, but I finished it. A few days ago, actually.”

“I don’t give a damn about the A-Wing,” Poe muttered, forcing a quiet laugh from you. “I just care that you’re okay. Both of you.”

Your heart swelled, Poe’s voice vibrating your skin, your love for him threatening to swallow you whole. “You’re… happy about this? Really?”

“Are you kidding?” Poe lifted his head, kissing your cheek, pulling back to meet your eyes with a smile. “I couldn’t be happier. We’re… I mean, shit, we’re having a kid!”

“We are,” you smiled, warm and gentle as you watched Poe’s widen. “I know it’s not like you talked about, but… we’re having a baby,” 

“I don’t care about anything I said before,” Poe scoffed. “I care about now. About you and about our baby. We’re gonna be just fine, I promise. Even if that means I have to end the war myself.” 

“I’d much rather you didn’t,” you said. “I think my child deserves to meet their dad.” 

“Dad…” Poe whispered, eyes trailing to your stomach. “I’m gonna be a dad.”

Poe looked up, as though your words finally made him realise what was going to happen to him. You watched his eyes fill with tears, unshed as he took his hand away from your waist, splaying it across your cheek and pulling you into his lips. 

Even if you must’ve kissed Poe hundreds of times before, he still managed to take the breath from your lungs every time his lips slotted onto yours. His lips were like heaven, like home to you. Like comfort, safety, and every ounce of love in his body flowed into yours, no matter the reason why he was kissing you. Whether it was hello, or goodbye, or simply because Poe wanted to kiss you, he always made sure you could feel how much he loved you. And you did the same. 

His lips seemed to say it all without speaking a single word. I love you, we’re okay. 

forever taglist: @mazerunnerrose @theboldandthebootyful @miraclesoflove @heliads

poe dameron taglist: open!

[sugaryplum]

LENKA'S ULTIMATE FICS HALL OF FAME ༉‧₊˚.

i’ve been reading fics on tumblr for a whileeeee. many years. i went through many phases, celebrity crushes, fictional crushes and obviously, fics related to them. only some stuck with me through all this time and well, here there are!!

what’s important, i’ve done this type of post before only with theodore nott in mind. i was asked by anon to recommend some more so here you can find him, as well as many different characters across many films, books, tv shows, genres. i lowkey recommend reading most of them honestly, even if you don’t know the characters. some are just in alternate universes so the name or context of the character doesn’t really matter :)

i’m picky and particular with fics so i promise these are best of the best 🤍 well written, in character, super cute all that. and like 80 percent is fluff

SO have a lovely time reading!! let’s start

(if i tagged a character and there's no section for them, they're for sure down at the bottom in "misc" – with poe dameron, regulus black, scorpius malfoy, jake peralta and some more <3)

spencer reid

i love baby steps by @sinfulspencer !!!!! i love domestic spencer

also can't let go by the same author i remember being lovely

fluffy cute ass blurb by @tinyluvs

asleep spence by @in-another-april <3

i looooveee @radiant-reid ! for example this little fic

and this omg

oh and these season 7/8 headcanons!!

theodore nott

i might accidentally repeat myself from my theo recs post, sorry:( most of them should be new recs though

speaking of repeating myself, first i'd like to repeat myself on purpose. if @artytaeh has no fans i am dead, i swear to goddd. i stand by what i said last time. best characterisation of theo, everything seems like it's made with so much care, no misses in the masterlist. read it alllllll

i mentioned veryberryjelly in my last theo recs too. here are some more of my favourites :) this and also this i ordered hehe. also i don't remember if last time i linked blair witch or tangled in lights so here you get them both

little dragon by @retrobutterflies super so very sweet

i remember the cat chronicles by @obsessedwithcelesteare being very cute 🌟 i love theo + cats combo always 

like a moth to a flame by @julesinsummer angsty!!!!! but so good

honestly i'm pretty sure i talked about it in theo recs already but in case i haven't you need to read this by @agirlsguidetolove

i remember loving fools by @luv4freddie !!! cute

this by @darkmagic-s was super silly and fun i love silly and fun things yayay

i for sure i talked about @cassiopeiasdaughter but did i talk about mirrorball specifically? i requested this and i loooveee it

this unhinged smut by @theostrophywife i love i stan

also silly little smut hcs by @sucka4thepuss hehe, most of them i agree i love em

😣😣😣<3😣

alright done with this smut section just this too let me link

cute and silly reminders of marriage thing by

@wordsarelife made this cute thing that lol im like 70% sure i may have requested???? and the ask looks like something i would ask for hehe

@suugarbabe makes really good stuff :)

cedric diggory

golden by @sapphicwhxre (love the username btw) might be my favourite cedric fic? first date cedric loooooveee

plain sight by @softboyluvr too oh my god! love this as a scenario

rainy summers as well as just you by @mirclealignr i think im just all for pure cedric diggory fluff (well written too!)

godsend by @pariahsparadise with sick reader super very sweet

@mistress-riddle made this lovely thing (and she's also btw soooooooo unbelievebly great with tom riddle fics if thats your cup of tea, i love all of them)

ced yule ball hcs by @styleswithaseaview are so sweet and there are also lovely petnames ones by the same author <3

cuuuute girldad!ced called pigtails by @mayabooowrites

post hogwarts cedric just so so so sweet by @iliveiloveiwrite, here's lighthearted domesticity

misc (all the other characters)

there's a bunch of my phases passed a long long time ago but some fics are just waaay too good to not keep rereading and recommending them. i think they're all pretty universal and can be imagined with anyone as the main love interest so please read them even if you don't know the character. and DON'T judge me ;(((( for the characters !!! i'm exposing myself enough. these were found by young me from a long while ago

this by @wizkiddx is the sweetest ever tom holland blurb about how he's a clumsy mess trying to measure reader's ring size while she's asleep

i think destined by @thirst-refinery is the cutest soulmate au made, even though i don't think the story was ever finished? but i love it still and honestly i am very not ashamed to be in love with poe dameron

black leader shutting up by @starryeyedstories also greattttt poe dameron fic

clingy fluffy sugary sweet scorpius malfoy in dinner by @blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms <3

🤎🤎 regulus black bunch :) here and here as well as here and here

....or maybe i just love timothee chalamet? like here and also here and definitely here

out of my hamilton phase a few years ago came out my love for this fic which might be one of my favourites ever, i legit have this text copied to my notes just in case it ever gets deleted

my alex turner moment was brief but so fun

OH AND this long jake peralta fic by @ongaku-ato-kakikomi is oh my god SOOO much fun please read it

also another poe dameron fic, this one is so good, by @absolutelyfizzing, kind of angsty also!!!!

DALI ON TUESDAY charlie dalton fic by @rostovs-loveralso one of my favourite things on this whole app. love love love love

YAY THATS ALL. this took so long. you've got my whole collection now. all of the all time favourites and more. love love you, hope you love reading them as much as i did<3🌜🌟👼 night night

[the-force-awakens]

hi :) I saw thst you reblogged that what's your main spin poll and I wanted to ask if you wanted to elaborate what yours is I love to hear about it!! <3

 🥺 aw thank you!! I always enjoy having a chance to infodump a little bit (btw i love ur icon...daphne what an icon)

I do technically have a handful of spins that I consider my main spins because I'm constantly rotating between them (star wars, doctor who, moon knight and spidey) at any given moment, but my strongest spin is definitely in Poe Dameron from the Star Wars Sequel Trilogy!

I kind of instantly fell in love with him when my dad first took me to see The Force Awakens when it came out, which was a huge surprise for me because Poe was maybe the character I was the least intrigued by at the time (Rey and Finn had me asking far more questions, anyway) and none of the descriptions for him really jumped out to me. But after actually seeing him, I was positively in love, and then quickly downloaded accompanying novels that featured him (Before the Awakening and the TFA novelization) to read more about him, and then in April of 2016, they came out with a comic series for him and that really helped further cement my special interest in him!

It took a huge hit in 2018-most of 2020 because of all the fandom negativity (especially around Poe) but at the end of 2020, I rewatched the sequels back to back for the first time and it flared back to life without me expecting it to and I did a huge deep dive into uuuuuuuuuuuuuh every piece of expanded material he'd appeared in 😅

Basically (I'm not super sure how familiar you are with Star Wars) Poe is one of the best pilots in the Resistance, which is lead by Princess (now General) Leia Organa, and he's her right-hand man/protégé/surrogate son. Barring the Resistance's bombing fleet (which is teeny bc the Resistance is teeny and held together by duct tape) Poe is essentially in charge of its only flight wing and (as far as we know) all* of its squadrons. On top of that, he's also an active intelligence operative, and even helps oversees the reports from the Resistance's spies so like...he's kind of already helping run the Resistance even prior to officially co-running it by the third film with Leia/when he's finally named its official leader.

Poe is super important to me for a lot of reasons, but one of my favorite things about his arc is that it's not centered around romantic love/tension unlike a lot of the other dynamics in the sequel trilogy (altho Oscar did play Poe as being extremely smitten for Finn and who can blame him, and we do meet an ex girlfriend of Poe's in the third movie, I stan a bisexual king). Poe's whole arc is about his duty to the Resistance, his struggles with keeping hope because he's afraid that everything they've (and him) endured and lost will have been for nothing if they lose the fight against the First Order. If there's a love story for Poe's arc, it's his love for the Resistance and his friends, and that's so wonderful and profound in my eyes.

But also the bridge of Poe's arc, from the daring hero we see in tfa and the start of tlj, to the cautious but courageous leader we see at the end of tlj and all of tros, is Poe being forced to accept that his role in this story isn't that of a martyred hero. He's quite literally grounded (his X-Wing is destroyed) and he's pushed into the role of the leader his mentor wants him to be, and TLJ (in my eyes) is the story of someone who full heartedly believed the most he had to offer was a noble self-sacrifice realizing he actually wants to live (and that he can do far more for the Resistance/galaxy by surviving.)

I love Poe a lot because he's also very simple. He's, as Rian Johnson described him, a good guy hero. Unlike other characters, you never doubt whether he's gonna be tempted or corrupted, you know that he's going to do the right thing and remain true to the Light side, you have faith that no matter what obstacle he faces, he's gonna overcome them and come out the other side that much better for it.

The Age of Resistance comic analysis of Poe breaks it down the best, I think:

Poe's inherent humanity is what makes him a great character. He's not someone who struggles with right and wrong or good and evil. Instead, his struggle is more with his tendency to need to be the person who pulls off some last-minute, thrilling heroics in service to the greater good. Because Leia's right: you can't solve everything by jumping in an X-Wing to blow things up.

I could talk for days about Poe (I've spent the last three years doing just that) about the nuances of his character and the depths that largely go unexplored because of Lucasfilm's inexplicable disrespect and dislike of him, the fandom often reducing him to a love interest with no other personality traits, or complete bastardization wherein he resembles Hangman Top Gun more than Poe Dameron (often when people want to oversexualize him).

He has so many qualities that I adore: he's snarky and hot-headed and can throw things (metaphorically) in people's faces when he's particularly upset, he's impulsive, but also kind and compassionate and patient with people. He sees the potential for more/good in folks that most wouldn't. he truly deeply values people, and that's what makes him such an amazing leader: he inspires loyalty because of how much he believes and takes risks in the people around him. He's often the first person to give someone a second chance, or to lower his blaster, but he can also be vindictive. He's confident in his abilities as a pilot to the point he's often mistaken as arrogant, but he never puts anyone down and always lifts people up, and has a lot more insecurities than anyone would guess, and is really sensitive to rejection.

He's also kind of canonically a prince, thanks to the TROS novelization, so you know. I think that's neat and I'm so totally normal about it (when Leia passes away, she leaves her Organa legacy to Poe...the Organa Legacy would be the Royal House Organa - as well as the Resistance. So...Poe is in some ways a prince).

(*which is...three, they only have three squadrons)

[hanasnx]

ive been reading thru ur star wars fics today (so good btw ur writing is chef’s kiss) and tbh im surprised that you haven’t written anything for poe dameron. I feel like his character would be right up your alley

i only care about the one guy. i’m not a star wars fan i’m a vader fan. thank you for your kind words tho im glad u liked it :)

[eyelessfaces]

Saw you were in a poe dameron mood and I absolutely jumped with joy. Your fics on him are amazing btw, especially “better safe than sorry”! I’ve already reread it and I just love the way you wrote him!

My little poe dameron thought would be BB8 being the one to get you guys to confess. The little droid would just grow tired of seeing you two flirt and be shy around each other, and he would especially grow tired of poe talking about you to him. I also would like to think he see you two as his parents 🥺. Again love your work!

first of all thank you so much omg this means the world<33333 I jumped to the ceiling when I read that seriously thank you so much<3

and yesssss you're absolutely right. the fics where it's bb that helps them get together are my absolute favorite and I just know the droid is TIRED of seeing the both of you beating around the bush without ever doing anything to go further than just flirting

I feel like one day poe would just rant about you and bb would go crazy beep without stopping, just hurting poe's ears, and when poe asks him what's going and if he fried a chip he just lets him know that he has to make a move or else he will (and don't underestimate bb he literally would arrange something to let you know that poe is head over heels for you one way or another)

(send me poe headcanons!)

[astroboots]

hi cici!! I love love your work and I was just wondering if you might ever want to write for star wars, for the mandalorian or poe dameron? I'd be SUPER excited if you ever did but I love what you write now so it would just be EXTRA exciting sgfkshf LOVE red flags btw and your moon knight sonata series 🫣 and homecoming is just so heartwarming and also very [flushed emoji] LOVE YOUR WORK 🧡🧡🧡

hello lovely thank you for sending in this lovely lovely ask. The answer to your question is maybe?!

I grew up as a big Star Wars fan, so the idea to write fanfiction in this world is something that has its appeal.

I am a fan of Mandalorian (especially the first season) and it's what got me into reading/writing fanfiction in this space in the first place, I've just not thought of anything that has caught my writing bug.

As for Poe sexy damn-eron... also maybe I love my man but I feel like I'd have to rewatch the trilogy, and I'm still really bummed out by how the trilogy ended and my husband will not survive me going on another 3 hour long tirade about it if we had a rewatch. 😂😂😂

So TLDR: maybe

[sarazanmai]

I just watched Inside Llewyn Davis and loved it. I remember when this movie was new and getting all this awards attention and then a few years later the curly haired bearded man from this movie would become a big mainstream star. I’ve always liked Oscar Isaac, I have become more interested in him recently, but I remember this being what helped push him forward as a lead actor and then Poe Dameron made him known to a wider audience. This movie is a way better use of your Oscar Isaac than those movies were though. I think he’s one of the more interesting actors we have in the modern era and his performance here just kills. Without him the movie wouldn’t work because frankly he is the show. Its kinda like Death in Venice in that regard except this movie has a far better story than Death in Venice (I wish I could stop thinking about Death in Venice btw, free me). But much like how Dirk Bogarde had to play a highly flawed man in crisis and still put forward some semblance of pathos, Oscar had to play a talented man who creates a lot of his own problems and still make him somebody the audience wants to follow and sympathize with. Neither is an easy task, cast the wrong person and it crumbles which is why the Coen Brothers were sweating until they found Oscar. As far as Visconti goes, idk Dirk Bogarde invented acting he was always gonna kill it. Anyway. Really great movie that reinforces Oscar Isaac’s power and overall is a great watch throughout. And there’s a kitty!

[dameronalone]

I hear you love Din Djarin 👀

I have many thoughts about him and thought your inbox (if you're comfortable with it) might be a great place to drop them.

AKDNSHDBSH OMG HI YES I DO LOVE DIN DJARIN he and poe dameron are my most specialest space star wars husbands and I love them sooooo much and I would love to hear your thoughts!!!

i appreciate you checking btw 🫶🫶🫶

[campingwiththecharmings]

thanks for the tag, @softlyspector 🥰 this was so fun! (lol-ing at your baby daddy response btw 😂)

Husband: Poe Dameron (didn't even need to think about this one ❤️)

Boyfriend: Steven Grant (I wanna geek out with him at a museum so bad...and then maybe kiss him a little)

Home wrecker: Nathan Bateman (he'd def wreck your shit and split)

Ex: Marc Spector (because he won't let me love him 😭💔)

Baby Daddy: Joel Miller (I mean, dude has proven he's a great dad he just...has issues)

Best friend: Santiago Garcia (with benefits mb idk idk 👀)

No pressure tags: @my-secret-shame @obsessivedaydreamer @360iris @annautumnsoul @melodygatesauthor @burstanddecay and anyone else who wants to do this! 💖

Relationship Jumbo

Thought I would try something new since this has been on my mind for a while:

Husband: Din Djarin

Boyfriend: Frankie Morales

Home wrecker: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels

Ex: Dieter Bravo

Baby Daddy: Javier Peña

Best friend: Javi G.

So I focused on Pedro characters but use whoever you want!

No Pressure Tag: @softlyspector @fuckyeahpedropascal @prolix-yuy @fireladybuckley @firemedicdiaz

[zinzinina]

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

[campingwiththecharmings]

“D..did you just make that noise?” + poe, maybe? thankie <3

Stuck

AN: I had two ideas for this prompt and this is the one that ended up being the most fleshed out. Hopefully it's okay lol (Thank you for sending this in btw 💖)

(Un-beta'd)

Rated: M+ (this is smut so, i mean, you’ve been warned?) Words: 1,447 (lol what's a drabble? 😂) Pairing: Poe Dameron x F!Reader Warnings: cursing, kissing, thigh riding/frottage, possibly terrible writing. AO3

——————

You’re not exactly sure how you ended up in this situation but you’re 100% sure that it’s Poe Dameron’s fault. Sure, it had been your idea to explore the old, crashed ship while making your rounds that morning, but it was Dameron’s carelessness that had resulted in the both of you falling through the unstable deck and getting stuck like this.

‘This’ being you pressed up against each other and unable to really move.

“Will you please stop squirming,” he grunts, clenching his jaw as you move again.

The position you’re in is a precarious one: your torso is pressed against his side, your left leg somehow almost wrapped partially around his waist, one of your arms is pinned down at your side and the other is stuck in the debris behind you. Poe’s positioning isn’t much better.

“I’m not squirming, I’m shifting,” you argue, doing your best to ignore the (delicious) press of him against you. “How else are we supposed to get out of here?”

He sighs, grimacing a little as you continue to twist yourself. “I’m working on it, just…give me a second.”

You scoff, gingerly wiggling one of your arms in an effort to pull it from the debris. You make a noise of triumph as you free your arm, only for it to turn into a squeal as the debris shifts and you’re (somehow) pressed even more against each other.

“Now will you give me a second to think?” he asks, his voice a little strained.

“Yeah. Sorry,” you mutter, cringing a little.

Silence falls between you as you ‘give Poe a second’ and you’re forced to focus on the fact that your front is fully pressed flush against Poe’s side, that if you shifted just a little to the left you could grind against the top of his thigh, that if you leaned forward just a few little bit more, you could lick the sweat slowly making its way down his neck—

“Okay,” he says breathlessly, breaking your train of thought. “I’m gonna try something.”

You nod, desperate for a distraction. Any distraction.

He inhales as deeply as your current positions allow, as if steeling himself, before slowly moving his arm. It brushes your waist as he weaves it behind you, the brief touch making you suck in an involuntary breath.

“You okay?” he asks, eyes finding yours in the dim light.

“Mhmm,” you lie, nodding quickly.

He looks at you for a moment longer, something unreadable in his gaze, before he glances away, refocusing on the task at hand.

You’re attracted to him, you can admit that to yourself, but you’ve never really been sure about his feelings toward you. There have been moments where he’s made you wonder, but they’re always so fleeting, you’re sure you’ve imagined them.

Now though…

Poe mutters something unintelligible and suddenly the debris behind you is moving, falling. Without thinking, you try to move away from it, pushing yourself forward toward Poe, your hips tilting against his thigh. A barely stifled whimper tears itself from your throat at the delightful friction between your legs and you freeze, your heart trying to beat its way out of your chest.

“D..did you just make that noise?”

Your gaze snaps to his at the question, your hackles raised—you’re expecting him to tease you, but instead see only curiosity in his eyes.

Maker, he’s so close.

Flustered, you open your mouth to respond but find that you have no words. Poe’s eyes fall to your lips and linger there, and you suddenly feel like you can’t breathe.

He meets your eyes again after a moment, his breath coming in soft puffs against your cheek. You swallow thickly, not sure what to do, what to say, how to explain—

But it turns out you don’t have to.

The set of his jaw is the only warning you get before he leans forward, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. You gasp against his mouth in surprise, allowing his tongue to slip in and tangle with yours. You groan at the delicious slide of his tongue against yours…and then in frustration when you remember you are currently incapable of moving. 

He huffs a laugh, pulling away. His lips are a little red and plump from your (very brief) make out session and you’re not sure he’s ever looked more gorgeous than he does right now.

“We’ve gotta get out of here,” you whisper, your nose bumping his as his mouth hovers over yours.

He nods, pressing his forehead to yours and taking a slow breath. 

“We definitely do,” he says, his tone is low and full of promise.

The heat in his eyes has you biting back a moan. “Any more suggestions?”

He swallows, tearing his gaze from yours to look at your surroundings. After a moment, he nods, wiggling his body a little as if to test his level of stuckness. You suck in a breath at the friction, drawing his eyes back to you.

“Sorry. Maybe if you—”

Nodding, you shift again, this time moving away from him, trying to use your body weight to push back the debris. It kind of works, so you keep at it, the two of you slowly moving toward what appears to be an exit. When you finally make it out, you’re in some kind of corridor. You sag against the most stable-looking wall you can find and try to catch your breath.

“We should head back to the ship,” you say, still panting a little.

Poe nods, running a hand through his mussed curls. “Yeah, we should.”

There is a pause as your eyes meet, silence falling between you again as you stare at each other, neither of you making any attempt to leave.

You’re not sure who moves first, but you meet Poe a step or two from the wall, only to be pressed back against it as your lips connect with his. He sighs into your mouth, fingers fisting in the fabric of your shirt as he pins you to the metal surface with his body. You hum, returning his kiss with equal fervor as your hands clutch at his hips. His lips, warm and dry, part with a groan as you grind against him. You plunge a hand into his curls as you lick into his mouth, holding his face to yours. He ruts against your hip, his hardness straining against the confines of his Resistance-issue trousers. You moan his name against his lips, pulling at the hair at the nape of his neck. You’re so close, you just need—

He groans, briefly pulling away to lift you so you can wind your legs around his waist. He settles you back against the wall, cock pressing at the heat between your legs.

This. This is what you need.

You both moan as he continues to rut against you, breaths coming in pants.

Poe is everywhere; he’s all you taste, all you smell, all you see, all you feel—you can’t get enough.

You gasp, the pleasure starting to build in your core. 

“Fuck, Poe, feels so good. Please don’t stop,” you plead, one hand clutching at his shoulders as you tilt your hips to meet his.

He buries his face into the side of your neck as his pace starts to falter, mouthing at your pulse point and mumbling incoherently into your skin. The sound sends a jolt of desire to your core and you clench around nothing, whining again as you inch toward your peak.

You’re addicted to him already and he’s barely even kissed you.

Your fingers are still tangled in his hair and when you come apart for him, they tighten, pulling at the silken strands. Poe’s moan is choked as his hips stutter against yours again, the sound of your release making him chase his own. He comes with a gasp a moment later, pressing his forehead to yours as you both try to catch your breath.

“Maker,” you breathe, combing your fingers through his hair and smiling when he leans into your touch. “Is there a reason we’ve never done that before?”

He smiles, his mouth hovering over yours. “If there was, it definitely wasn’t a good one.”

You huff a laugh, chewing on your bottom lip as you pull his mouth to yours again. As your lips meet, the ship around you creaks loudly and you both freeze.

“We should go, right?” you say, looking around warily.

“Yep, definitely,” he agrees, slowly lowering you back down to the floor.

When your eyes meet again, you snort, grabbing him by the wrist and dragging him back outside to safety.

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[sansaorgana]

— DON’T CALL ME PRINCESS

PAIRING — Poe Dameron x Padmé Solo (OC)

SUMMARY — Named after her biological grandmother, Padmé has always been running away from her destiny and refused to be trained at the Jedi Academy. She chose the life on the run alongside her father but her older brother kidnaps her, hoping she would join him in the dark side. General Leia Organa is determined to get her daughter back and sends the Resistance’s best pilot to rescue “Princess Padmé”.

AUTHOR’S NOTE — I really wanted to make it a story with the fem!Reader but she would have to be too described and that is something I do not like in x Reader fics, so I’ve created the character of Padmé Solo. 🥺 Long multichapter fics exhaust me, to be honest, so I don’t plan to turn this into one, I think more of writing a series of one–shots, which would explore this character, her story and her relationship with Poe. In this one they’ve barely met after all! 🙈 I follow canon very loosely here btw!

WORD COUNT — 3,740

ENGLISH IS MY SECOND LANGUAGE.

DON’T CALL ME PRINCESS

Padmé was woken up abruptly by the sound of the door being opened. She groaned and pulled the blanket over her head but the man who had just stood above her didn’t mean to walk away so easily.

“Kylo Ren is expecting you,” he announced in a very serious and a bit irritated voice.

“Tell him to fuck off, how about that?” Padmé muttered through the blanket before revealing her face and giggling at General Hux’s expression. “Would you be brave enough to repeat that to him?”

The man clenched his jaw and didn’t say anything but his eyes were telling more than a thousand words – he despised that woman and if she hadn’t been his boss’ biological sister, he would have taught her a lesson.

Padmé rolled her eyes and stood up to stretch her arms out and yawn. She grabbed a towel and raised an eyebrow at General Hux.

“Will you be staying here while I take a shower?” she asked.

“N-no, of course not,” he swallowed thickly.

“Thought so,” she smirked and waited for him to leave before she eventually went to the bathroom.

Kylo Ren was waiting for Padmé in his private quarters with his lightsaber by his side and his helmet covering his face. He hadn’t been expecting her to show up on time but he was still irritated by her delay.

“How nice of you, dear brother,” he finally heard her voice and turned around to witness her walking up to him next to General Hux. “You gave me quite a big room with my own, private bathroom,” she chuckled and looked around. “Woah, that’s much more luxurious than a good old Millenium Falcon, isn’t it?”

“Padmé,” Kylo called her name to get her attention but she kept making wide eyes at the quarters surrounding her.

“Excuse me, it’s the first time since you’ve kidnapped me when I can finally take a proper look at your ship,” she commented bitterly.

“General Hux, leave us,” Kylo ordered and the man nodded his head before walking away as fast as possible.

“Come on, Ben, take off that stupid helmet,” Padmé sighed and crossed her arms. “It’s not like you need it. Our grandfather never wanted to wear one and he hated it.”

“You know nothing of Darth Vader,” Kylo Ren’s voice was filled with frustration and anger.

“Do you still talk to his melted helmet, hoping he would show up as a Force Ghost?” she kept teasing.

“Shut up.”

“What do you want me for, Ben? Am I here so you can kill me and seal your commitment to the dark side?” she pretended to be brave about it as she crossed her arms and raised her eyebrow but her voice broke a little and that had betrayed her.

She didn’t want to die, after all. Padmé was a young woman, two years younger than her brother actually. Full of life and everything it had to offer.

Despite spending most of her life on the Millenium Falcon, visiting different worlds with her father and Chewbacca, there were still many things she hadn’t experienced and couldn’t wait for.

Like finding a place she would call home that was not an old Corellian ship. Or meeting one true love one day… maybe.

“Don’t call me Ben,” Kylo said and took out one of the lightsabers to throw it at her. She grabbed it, surprised. “You are here to be trained.”

“No,” Padmé gritted her teeth. “I didn’t agree to join Uncle Luke and I don’t agree to join you. Force is a gift I do not want. It causes more trouble than good,” she exclaimed.

She tried to throw that lightsaber away but it fit her hand almost perfectly so instead, she took a better look at it. For some odd reason, it felt like she had known it… in some different life.

“That lightsaber once belonged to a Jedi Knight named Anakin Skywalker,” Kylo informed her and Padmé’s eyes sparkled.

“I might keep that one for sentimental reasons then. I will not use it, though.”

“You will,” Kylo answered mysteriously before activating his own one.

In fact, Padmé had never held one nor fought with one. She was force sensitive but she never used any of her potential abilities, unless it was done by accident. Yes, it had saved her life a few times during her adventures on Millenium Falcon, but she never actually dreamt of becoming a Jedi or a dark side user of the Force.

What Kylo Ren had been wanting so badly – being in touch with their grandfather – she had achieved effortlessly. Anakin Skywalker’s force ghost had been by her side since she had been a child.

It was Padmé’s little secret that she was so close with her grandfather. Her parents had eventually forgiven him and Leia Organa had accepted the fact that she was a biological daughter of Anakin Skywalker but she never addressed him as her father and she never talked to him. Padmé was different. She didn’t care much about her mother’s stories about Bail Organa and she never used her second name – Breha. She hadn’t met them just as much as she hadn’t met her biological grandparents so she decided she’d rather focus on her actual ancestors.

Padmé Solo was an unusual girl. She was known by many names, actually: Padmé Organa, Padmé Organa–Solo, Padmé Skywalker, Padmé Skywalker–Organa, Padmé Skywalker–Solo and even Padmé Skywalker–Organa–Solo. She was using them all, depending on the situation, but in fact she had known she was nothing but Padmé Solo.

Her parents were rather happy that she hadn’t wanted to become a Jedi. Most of her childhood she had spent with her father, when her mother was busy with politics. And when her parents decided that they shouldn’t be together, she had left with Han and Chewie to have adventures all over the galaxy.

She loved her mother but their relationship was not an easy one. Being Leia Organa’s daughter was putting lots of expectations and bagge on Padmé’s shoulders. She was expected to be a Princess like her mother… Not one of those who would just roll their eyes and demand, no. She should be a fighter and a hero; smart and beautiful, fearless…

It was easier to be Han Solo’s daughter. Simpler.

Padmé looked down at her own hands and she witnessed the blue light activating itself. Her fists clenched around the handle as her hands trembled.

“I’m going to guide you, don’t be afraid,” she heard her grandfather’s voice and she smiled to herself.

“Why do you want to train me?” she asked her brother.

“Because you are supposed to join me.”

“Over my dead body, Ben,” she tried to turn it into a joke.

“We will see about that,” he approached her. “There is the same blood in our veins. We both love power.”

Leia could feel that something hadn’t been right. She could feel the physical pain. It was the Force’s calling but also a mother’s instinct that had been telling her that her daughter could be in danger.

Therefore, when she saw Han’s ship landing at The Resistance Base on D’Quar, she felt her heart squeezing in her chest. She immediately knew that there had to be a reason for his visit… An unpleasant one.

“Han!” She greeted him but his serious expression and Chewbacca’s lowered head made her feel sick to her stomach. “Where is she? Where’s Padmé?”

“He’s taken her,” Han shook his head, feeling guilty for letting this happen. “She was kidnapped when we were on Batuu. I’m sorry…”

“We’ve already lost a son,” she whispered. “I won’t lose a daughter, too,” she added before hugging her ex-husband and patting his shoulder. “We’ll get her back. I’ll send my best pilot.”

“Am I not your best pilot?” Han smirked.

“Oh, please. Hardly.”

Padmé was walking down the corridor, coming back from her brother’s private quarters. They were supposed to train together now but he had told her to go back to her room now since he had other urgent matters to take care of first.

Thanks to her rather obedient behavior those past few days, Kylo Ren allowed her to go back on her own and without General Hux’s supervision.

That behavior was of course nothing but an act – Padmé wanted to gain Kylo’s trust so she would soon be able to escape the First Order’s ship.

Her main problem was rather embarrassing – she couldn’t fly. Han Solo’s daughter had no idea how to fly ships, yes, and there were quite a few reasons behind that. Most importantly, there was no way Han Solo would ever let his daughter fly his beloved ship. They both also liked to pretend that they were not getting older at all and they still had all the time in the world for her to learn.

Thanks to that, Padmé was now left with a huge problem. She needed a pilot and in order to find one, she had to befriend some people on the ship and find out which one would be the easiest to convince to help her for money. Most of them sadly acted like they had truly been loyal at heart to the awful First Order.

Padmé was lost in her thoughts when she suddenly heard two muffled voices coming from the side of the corridor. That  was certainly unusual. She had never witnessed two stormtroopers gossipping while being on their shift.

“Can you fly a TIE Fighter?”

“I can fly anything.”

The other man laughed and Padmé stopped while furrowing her brows, standing literally a few meters away from them.

“Why? Why are you helping me?” the one who claimed to be able to fly anything asked.

“Because that’s the right thing to do.”

Short silence occurred.

“You need a pilot.”

Padmé’s heart froze in her chest at those words.

“I need a pilot,” the other one admitted.

“We’re gonna do this… but first, I have to rescue Princess Padmé.”

Padmé closed her eyes for the second, embarrassed to hear those words. It had to be her mother sending that man to help her because no one else would call her a Princess…

“Ekhem,” she interrupted both men and stood between them. They widened their eyes, absolutely terrified of her presence.

One of them was a stormtrooper with his helmet taken off and the other one had dry blood on his face and typical clothing of some scoundrel.

“Who are you?” he asked while the stormtrooper looked at him like he was crazy.

“That’s Princess Padmé. Weren’t you supposed to rescue her?” he asked, surprised.

“Oh, they haven’t told me what she looked like,” the pilot looked at Padmé up and down while biting on his lower lip. “So, we don’t have to break in anywhere, you’re already here, marvelous. Now we can escape.”

“Not so fast. You were sent to rescue me?” Padmé raised an eyebrow.

“Yes.”

“Why would I believe you?”

“Why not?” he teased and she huffed. “Listen, we don’t have much time.”

“Why would my mother send a pilot like you to rescue me?” Padmé crossed her arms.

“I’m the best pilot in the galaxy!” he exclaimed, his pride visibly offended.

“My father is the best pilot in the galaxy. You’re some scoundrel who got himself arrested during the mission.”

“We really don’t have much time,” the stormtrooper nearly begged.

“And why would we trust you, huh?” she laid her eyes on him.

“Can we just…” the pilot lowered his voice at the sound of people coming their way. “We need a plan.”

“I have a plan,” the stormtrooper put his helmet on. “You’ll pretend to be my prisoner.”

“What about the Princess?” the pilot pointed his finger at her.

“Don’t call me that.”

“Well, she might be a problem,” the stormtrooper admitted.

“Just leave me here and tell my mother to send a better pilot to save me,” Padmé teased.

“No way, you’re leaving with us right now,” the pilot didn’t want to hear any of this.

“I have an idea,” Padmé looked around and noticed a lone stormtrooper approaching them.

Perhaps it had been a terrible idea but she didn’t think twice. She grabbed her grandfather’s lightsaber and activated it before pressing it to the surprised stormtrooper’s chin.

“Wh-what’s going on?”

“Give me your clothes.”

They were walking through the hangar and now, when they were surrounded by so many people, Padmé started to feel what a terrible idea it had truly been. The stormtrooper's clothes were too big for her and she felt everyone’s eyes on her. The way she walked was simply funny and hard not to notice.

Not to mention the actual stormtrooper being locked in one of the rooms on the ship. Soon he’d be found and tell the authorities about everything, which would lead to the failure of Padmé’s plan.

“Okay, stay calm, stay calm,” the stormtrooper that had been working with her kept repeating under his breath while pressing the gun to the pilot’s head. Padmé was just walking next to him and feeling how sweaty her hands were becoming.

“I am calm,” the pilot gritted through his teeth.

“I’m talking to myself,” the stormtrooper admitted.

“How consoling,” Padmé muttered.

“Okay, go. This way,” the stormtrooper patted their shoulders and led them to one of the TIE Fighters.

“Which one of you will be my co-pilot?” the pilot asked. “Princess?”

“Don’t call me that and no,” she hissed at him after taking off her helmet.

“A daughter of the best pilot in the galaxy and she cannot fly?” he asked, both surprised and amused.

“If I could fly, smartass, I wouldn’t need your help with getting out of here.”

“Okay, okay, I can try,” the stormtrooper pushed them both inside the TIE Fighter.

Another problem was that it certainly hadn’t been built for three people, especially when two of them were wearing big white armors.

Padmé was squeezed between them two, half standing and half crouching, grumpy and terrified.

“We are so going to die here,” she sighed.

“I’ve always wanted to fly one of these things,” the pilot admitted while taking his jacket off.

“You joined the wrong side then,” Padmé sighed.

“Can you shoot?” he asked the stormtrooper who was taking his helmet off.

“Blasters, I can.”

“Okay, same principle,” the pilot nodded while pushing buttons to get the ship ready to start. “Use a toggle on the left to switch between missiles, cannons and mag pulse. Use the sight on the right to aim. Triggers to fire.”

“This is very complicated…”

“Is there anything I can do?” Padmé asked.

“Just stay silent,” the pilot smirked at her and she didn’t even fight him at that moment, absolutely convinced she would soon die.

Perhaps staying on that bloody ship with her brother hadn’t been that bad of an idea but it was too late for going back now.

The ship was just about to leave the docking bay when something blocked its movement and a loud clanking sign made them all realize that all this time the TIE Fighter had been anchored with the wire.

“Excellent,” Padmé hid her face in her hands, trying to calm her down while taking deep breaths in.

She had heard stories about her mother during the war. Leia Organa had been strong and brave. She would never crouch down on the ship’s floor and hide her face in her hands. Neither would Han Solo or the real Padmé – Padmé Amidala.

But Padmé Solo was her own self and she was absolutely terrified.

“I can fix this!” The pilot exclaimed and the sounds of blasters surrounded them. The stormtroopers at the hangar were trying to stop them but the one helping Padmé finally began shooting at them.

She shut her eyes close and tried to focus on the Force around her. She had never been trained to be able to influence it but she hoped that her fear and desperation would somehow save their lives.

“I got it!” The pilot eventually got rid of the cable and the TIE Fighter lef the hangar. “Woah, this thing really moves!”

Padmé straightened her back to see with her own eyes that they were finally in outer space but her smile didn’t last for long. Of course no one would let them escape so easily and the First Order was shooting at them.

“Okay, we gotta take out as many of these cannons as we can or we're not gonna get very far,” the pilot ordered.

“Alright,” the stormtrooper nodded.

“I’m gonna get us in position, just stay sharp.”

Padmé put her hands on the pilot’s seat and squeezed them to keep in balance. She was the only one who didn’t have any seat belts or anything really to protect her from the upcoming turbulence.

“Better put that helmet back on, Princess,” the pilot pointed at the abandoned stormtrooper’s helmet on the floor.

She nodded and put it back on before clinging to his seat once again like her life depended on it… Well, because it actually did.

“Up ahead! Up ahead! You see it? I got us dead center, it’s a clean shot.”

“Okay, got it.”

The stormtrooper blew up the cannons and all three of them began to cheer and scream to celebrate the victory.

“Did you see that?! Did you see that?!”

“I saw it!”

“Good job!” Padmé took her helmet off once again with a wide smile.

“Hey, what’s your name?” the pilot asked the stormtrooper.

“FN–2187!”

“F… What?!”

“That’s the only name they ever gave me.”

The pilot and Padmé looked at each other meaningfully. They weren’t fond of each other – in fact, they were pretty sure they would never end up as friends – but they were both coming from a different world. A world where children had mothers and fathers, normal names and the First Order was something to fight instead of serve.

“Well, I ain’t using it,” the pilot decided. “F–N, huh?”

“Finn,” Padmé proposed.

“Yes, Finn. We’re gonna call you Finn, is that alright?” the pilot asked.

“Finn… Yeah, I like that!” he nodded.

“I’m Poe. Poe Dameron,” the pilot finally introduced himself.

“Good to meet you, Poe.”

“Good to meet you, Finn.”

“Ekhem,” Padmé interrupted them both.

“Well, you don’t need to introduce yourself, do you?” Poe looked up at her.

“Nice to meet you, too, Dameron,” she hissed and then her eyes widened at the sight of the huge blue missiles chasing their TIE Fighter.

“One’s coming towards you!” Poe screamed at Finn. “My right, your left! Do you see it?”

“Hold on…! I see him!”

A few shoots later one of the missiles was gone.

“Nice shot!” Poe exclaimed and proceeded to lower the ship.

“Where are we going?” Finn asked.

“We’re going back to Jakku, that’s where.”

“What?!” Padmé squealed at that.

“We can’t go back to Jakku! We need to get out of this system!” Finn insisted.

“We need to get to the Resistance Base as soon as possible, Dameron!” Padmé joined him.

“I gotta get my droid before the First Order does,” Poe informed them, determined to land on Jakku.

“What, a droid?!” Finn asked.

“I can’t believe that! Your job is to rescue the Princess, not some droid!” Padmé screamed at him.

“So you’re a Princess now, huh?” Poe snorted. “He’s a BB unit, orange and white. One of a kind.”

“Guess who else is one of a kind? I am!” Padmé tried to push him away like she knew how to fly. Dameron pushed her away angrily.

“We gotta get as far away from the First Order as we can!” Finn yelled at them. “We go back to Jakku, we die!”

“That droid has a map that leads straight to Luke Skywalker,” Poe revealed and looked deep into Padmé’s eyes, searching for some sort of understanding.

“I couldn’t care less about Luke…” she started, still holding his arms in order to continue pushing him away.

And that was when the ship got hit.

“Princess,” Padmé was woken up abruptly by the sound of the familiar, irritating voice of Poe Dameron.

She hoped it had been all a bad dream and that she’d wake up on the Millenium Falcon… But no, when she opened her eyes, she saw the Resistance’s pilot face – worried, bruised and bloody.

It was dark and incredibly cold. They were in the middle of Jakku's desert.

“You’re alive,” he sighed with relief.

“My mother would have your head off if I wasn’t,” Padmé sat up and coughed a little. “What happened?”

“The plane crashed but our bodies got thrown out of the cockpit.

“Where’s Finn?”

“I don’t know. I think he stayed inside the ship...”

“And why did we crash, remind me? Oh, because you wanted to save some stupid droid!” Padmé rolled her eyes and stood up to start taking off the parts of the damaged stormtrooper’s armor she had been wearing.

“That armor might be useful,” Poe pointed out.

“Then wear it yourself. It’s going to fit you more than me anyway.”

“Clothes exchange?” he proposed but Padmé looked at him up and down with her lips pressed to a thin line.

“No, I don’t think so,” she abandoned the last piece of the armor on the sand and put her hands on her hips. “So, smartass, do you have a plan to get us out of here?”

“I have one idea, Princess,” he teased ironically and she raised an eyebrow. “You stay out of the way and do what I say.”

“I may not be as brave as my mother, Dameron, but I am as annoying as her. Don’t count on that.”

“Then we’re doomed.”

“I know. I also would like a much more pleasant company to die with but here we are,” Padmé shrugged her arms with a smirk. “And oh, by the way, I have this,” she took out her lightsaber and showed it to him.

“And you know how to use it?” he asked, suspiciously.

“Not really but I do know how to cut a throat with it. It runs in my blood, you see,” she hid the lightsaber back again.

Poe raised his eyebrows and sighed before putting his hands on his hips. He had to keep reminding himself that this annoying, awful woman was Leia’s daughter and his job was to take her back to her mother safely.

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