FLYBOY_ POE DAMERON IMAGINES

- imagine #16 //

500-800 special. Written to the plot of New Rules by Dua Lipa.

　ﾟ+..｡*ﾟ+

⁂ 𝚘𝚗𝚎: 𝚍𝚘𝚗'𝚝 𝚙𝚒𝚌𝚔 𝚞𝚙 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚙𝚑𝚘𝚗𝚎.  ⁂

The ringing message on your data pad snapped your head up from where it was buried deep in your X-wing. You were just doing casual repairs, nothing to stress a regular mechanic about.

Sliding back in your chair, you reached your greasy hand to grab your pad in order to check the message.

"Hey babe."

You didn't need to read who had sent the message, you knew it was Poe, the most notable pilot in the resistance.

Your relationship was on and off at best, the whole base knew it. Some days, you would work real hard and he was there when you needed to blow off steam in the best possible ways. Other days, you'd argue and be convinced it was over between the two of you for good. And even when things were ok, there was the sense that both of you were holding back. Him more than you.

You thought that it was you, that you were the reason he wouldn't go all in but you kept trying. Kept opening his data message like this, falling back into his trap when you knew better. For some reason, you just couldn't block him out.

"Hey." You responded over your data pad, moving to get back to work but he responded before you could really move.

"Where are you?"

You wanted to respond, your fingers quickly typing out that you were in the hanger working but your conscience stopped you before you could press send. What were you doing?

He's probably drunk or at least tipsy, that's when he always messaged you. He didn't often make an effort to restore a relationship with you, but when he was drunk and alone, his body wanted you more than his mind could stop him.

But you pressed send anyways.

Returning to your work, it took less than ten minutes for the curly haired pilot to appear at your side. Your head was deep in your ship but you soon felt two hands grip your shoulders gently. His hands were calloused, large and rough, uncomfortably grasping your shoulders but something about it felt soft and comforting. Maybe it was the fact that you knew they were his hands.

"You work too hard." He spoke out, just loud enough for you to hear over the clanking metal of the hanger, his hands deliberately massaging the base of your neck.

"Some of us have to." You mumbled back, pulling your head from your ship to lean back against him. Staring up at him, it was hard to admit he wasn't the most beautiful man on the planet. If only he was better with relationships.

"You shouldn't have to." He added, leaning down to press a kiss to the side of your face, allowing you to smell the alcohol across his breath.

"We can't all be the best pilot in the resistance." You added quietly, slowly falling in a way you knew you shouldn't. But his hands were so warm, his kiss felt so genuine, it was hard not to.

"For what it's worth." He pressed another kiss to your cheek, edging closer to your lips. "I think you're the best-" he kept kissing the corner of your lips as your eyes fluttered shut. "Pilot besides me." He added softly, making you chuckle before pressing a soft kiss directly onto your lips with a smile.

"Means a lot from you." You responded as he pulled away and kept massaging your neck.

"I should hope so." He added, smiling as he stared down at you.

You let the fantasy drift momentarily as you heard noises draw you back to reality, you still had repairs to finish. You instinctively gripped back onto your wrench but his hands floated down to gently pull it away.