Fandom Imagines

Fight Me (Poe Dameron X Reader)

You and Poe, best friends, sparring partners, ignoring the unlabeled tension that clung to the two of you every time you were together. Today was no different.

"C'mon, Y/N, you know I'm useless with a saber," the pilot whined as your sabers clashed together once more.

Sweat beaded at your hairline, a smirk tugging at the right corner of your mouth, "No excuses, Dameron."

You, a Force-sensitive, were still learning how to use your green saber and Poe borrowed Rey's saber to help you practice combat. You could've used the test dummies in the training room but a warm body that could move and deflect your attacks was preferred. Even if the warm body was reluctant and unskilled as Poe.

He quickly ducked as you swung the saber once more, swearing, "You could've taken my head off!"

"Stop being a baby," you teased, lunging into another offensive move.

Poe jumped out of the way, his saber clattering you the ground, slightly crouching with his arms drawn up in a protective X in front of his face. A gasp escaped your mouth sharply, not expecting that reaction. You quickly switched off your lightsaber, clipping it to the leather band around your waist and bending to switch his off as well before nearing him.

"Hey, Poe, what was that? You know I would never actually hurt you, right?" You placed a hand on his back and he moved to straiten up, breathing quick.

"Sorry, I don't know what happened, fight or flight I guess," he breathed out a small chuckle, "I know you wouldn't. I just don't think I'm cut out for that saber stuff. I'm better in the cockpit or with my bare hands."

"Hmm, why don't we practice that then?" you suggested, relieved that you hadn't really upset him.

"Practice what?" He tilted his head to the side. You had to admit, he looked pretty hot standing there, large hands on his hips, a thin layer of sweat causing his already wavy, dark locks to curl more on the ends and add an almost godly glow to his tan face.

"Hand-to-hand combat," you chirped, making it sound as pleasurable of an activity as him taking you for a joyride in his X-wing.

"Babydoll," he chucked, the sarcastic nickname causing unwanted butterflies, "as much as you deserve it for almost killing me, I don't want to accidentally hurt you."

"Oh, you think I can't take you?" You sassed, "Bring it."

He hesitated, giving you a look that most definitely said are you sure? and you simply motioned him to come at you.

He explained his moves, assuming the role of a combat teacher. He was gentle, hardly actually testing and moves on you, more or less just demonstrating. He started with some offensive before moving to defensive, and eventually he deemed you ready to actually try some of the moves.

"I'm gonna go easy, but I want you to give it your best effort, okay?" He said, a challenging gleam in his eye.

"You don't need to go easy on me, Dameron," you rolled your eyes.

He counted down and you launched into your first move. Within seconds you were on the floor, but not because of him, but because he had dodged you. He extended a hand and helped you up.

"You can't just lunge at me, Y/N," he laughed, a deep sound reverberating from his chest, sounding way too good to your ears, "you have to do it like I showed you."

"Right," you nodded, face flushed. You backed into your starting position, determination filling you.

Each move you tried failed. And it wasn't for your lack of effort, no, Poe made the reason very obvious: he wasn't really fighting you, even demonstratively, because he was too afraid he might hurt you. And it eventually ticked off your final nerve.