warnings: SMUT!! (extended warnings under the cut), a little fluff (if you squint??)
summary: poe being a needy little shit and taking you behind the x-wing while everyone's repairing ships.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Poe Dameron was an adrenaline junkie. But he was also your boyfriend and the best pilot the whole resistance had ever seen. But a pilot needs to be accompanied by a mechanic.
You were the only one he trusted with his X-Wing or BB-8. In fact, he trusted you so much with his droid that any problem he came across with it, he would ask you to do it. He'd ask you to fix his droid, paint his droid. Change BB-8's chip. But he was more than protective of his X-Wing, and he would only let you help with repairs.
That was before the war in the galaxy. But now that it was over now that the war was won. Things needed fixing and you were one of the only ones he trusted. But there were more than capable people for the job and although Poe only trusted you. There were other things that needed to be fixed and you were the best Mechanic in the whole resistance.
"Poe." You say stern, "I'm busy." His hands still slide around your waist regardless of your pleas for him to leave you alone. Although he was the more dominant one in your relationship, he was fucking needy.
The two of you were in the hanger. Where constant construction was taking place, and everyone was busy fixing ships that had been damaged in the war. Rey was gone and Finn was nowhere to be seen, but that didn't change the fact that you were busy, and Poe needed attention.
His whisper is hot on your skin, the collar of your jumpsuit doing nothing to stop his breath touching your neck, "C'mon, baby,"
"Don't test me, flyboy." You turn to face Poe, attempting to be angry with him, but upon seeing his pout and his beady brown eyes, you almost instantaneously gave in.
The two of you were in a more discreet part of the hanger, Poe's X-Wing was always deep in the hanger.
His fingers ran down your skin, "You wanna talk about testing? Look at you in my fuckin' jacket." He whispers again, pulling you closer. Your back pressed against his chest once more. The smell of oils and the sound of jackhammers going off fixing wings and screwdrivers shaking the ground.
