DRABBLES | ocs, canon, x reader

unravel , poe dameron x reader , hurt/comfort

reader is neurodivergent and has sensory overload

poe is implied to also be neurodivergent

i'm sooo disordered
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Being a new engineer on base was... stressful. The actual rigidity of it-learning a new schedule, familiarizing yourself with the ships- was easy. There was a structure, there was a right and wrong. That you could work with.
The hard part was meeting people. Making friends. Not that anyone would know by interacting with you- social situations were just more complex, temperamental systems. There was input and output. You could navigate social situations, make friends, and diffuse tension as well as anyone-
but it was tiring.

And sometimes you forgot your own limitations.
You didn't expect to fall apart. You had forgotten about it.

You were following your schedule, on the odd graveyard shift doing maintenance. Mechanics and technicians made up the majority of the graveyard shifts, but an engineer was required for each shift. As the newest junior engineer on base, you were on the chopping block.

D'Qar hummed and buzzed at night, pale moon and starlight filtering through the trees and into the entrance of the hangar.

You stood up, pulling the flashlight from your mouth and turning it off, wincing at the tang of engine oil in your mouth.

It creeped in. You couldn't quite name the feeling, like all your emotions blended together, bleeding into a muddy mixture.

You dropped something. A hyperdrive attenuator. You dropped it- and you laughed, giggling at your own clumsiness- and then your breath hitched, a watery thorn creeping in and then you were crying.

To your credit, at least you were a silent crier. No sobbing, just the shuddering exhales and the shaky inhales.

Your body felt too heavy, too much pressing down, weighing, suffocating-

You dropped something. The attenuator was closer now, enough that you could grab it, that you could see the smears left behind behind by your engine oil-stained hands.
You were on the floor.

You braced your feet against the floor, leaning back against the x-wing you had been working on. You buried your head into your arms, hot tears covering your face, gathering and cooling at your chin. You made a choked sound, louder than your unsteady breathing.

You didn't think much of it- you didn't think of it at all. In fact, the only thing you could think of was your home- long gone, now- your little apartment on Cardota decorated in soft, warm light and even softer blankets. You wanted to go back to a home that didn't exist.

"Hey," someone said. "C'mon, stay here with me." You blinked, trying to clear the blurriness from your eyes, the way everything seemed so sharp and loud and cold.

A hand, reaching out to rest on your shoulder. You flinched away violently, hitting your head and something else against the x-wing but it didn't matter- the only thing that mattered is that if someone put their hand on you you would splinter into a thousand pieces.

"Sorry, okay. You don't want to be touched." You nodded, not meeting the person's eyes. Somewhere, you felt embarrassed. "Take my jacket."

You furrowed your brows. The what? withered and died in your throat.

"It's a heavy but it isn't super warm..." the person trailed off, almost unsure.

"Thank you," you finally said. Your voice was rough and coarse in your throat. Your gaze rested on the person's throat, watching their adam's apple bob as they gulped.

"'Course." And the jacket settled over you, heavy and comforting, smelling faintly of clean linen and sweat and caf grounds. Nice, mild. You pulled the jacket over you more, huddling into it.
The weight of it brought you back down to the ground again.
The sharpness of the world lessened, and you looked up at the person.

The sight of the person who helped you threatened to push you over again. "Commander." You dropped his gaze. "I'm sorry."

"No," he replied, voice stern. "Don't be. I know what it's like." You opened your mouth to speak and the words withered again. You wiped at a stray tear.

"Do you want to choose the channel on the radio?" he asked.

He set the radio by you. You blinked at it once, twice, before picking it up and switching it to the only channel you knew broadcasted across most the galaxy. Tinny, soothing notes floated from the little radio box.

"I like this station," Commander Dameron murmured, and you smiled. You set the radio between the two of you again and tilted your head back to rest against the x-wing, eyes fluttering shut.
You could feel his eyes on you, studying you under the pale light of the night sky and the red nighttime base lighting.

"Do you wanna get caf sometime?" The words came from him in a rush, as if he didn't mean to speak. "Sorry, this is a bad time-" you looked at him, the way he winced at his own words.

"Yeah," you said, too softly for him to hear at first. You clear your throat and try again. "I'd like that, commander."

He opened his eyes to look at you, and you couldn't quite place his expression- partially parted lips and and slightly widened eyes, like he was watching a star go supernova. The corner of his mouth tugged up.
"Great- it's a date-" he winced again.

"'A date'," you repeated. "I'd like that."

And he smiled.