Cassian + Caring About Jyn [click For Better Quality]

cassian + caring about jyn [click for better quality]

fav sw ships series // 2/?: rebelcaptain

Before You Leave

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Prompt: "unrequited love, in which i just poured my heart out to you, telling you i love you and you said that you don’t feel the same way, and then you leave, and i’m standing here, not sure what to do, i can’t even cry that’s how shocked and heartbroken i am"

Word Count: 812

Warnings: i cried while writing this so take that as you will

a/n: it's 5 am and i refuse to beta read this so it could be hot trash we'll see

You weave your way through the massive crowd bustling through the hangar to your friends, sidestepping BB-8 as you approach Poe.

“Hey, can we talk?” you ask, gently placing your hand on his forearm. “Before you leave?”

“Yeah, of course,” he says, following you out of the expansive space, through a few passageways, and into your quarters. The two of you dodge frantic runway techs and pilots on your way - the main hallway is rather busy, people running back and forth helping to prepare the Falcon. After all, this was the mission. The be-all-end-all.

“I’m not sure what’s going to happen when you leave,” you start as you cross the threshold into your room, picking up a sweater from your bed and pulling it on to have something, anything to do with your hands. He nods, understanding the massive collection of anxious feelings that were most likely trying to find their ways into your mind. He always felt the same way before you left - panic about if you’d return, then the numbness that would set if you were even an hour late returning. “And I just needed to tell you something - to prepare for the worst happening.” Your hands are trembling at this point, and he takes them in his, concerned.

“Is everything ok?” he asks, brows knitting together with concern. You smile tightly at him, nodding.

“Yeah, I just- I’ve been thinking a lot about being honest with people lately - you know, what with the large probability that we could, well, die soon,” you say, clearing your throat nervously, and he nods. “And there’s something that I haven’t been very honest with you about.” Your heart races, thumping against your ribcage so hard you swear he can hear it. If someone had given you a cup of water to hold right now, it would be sloshing all over the floor. “I love you,” you blurt out, not knowing how else to say it other than quickly, without allowing any chance for interruption. You glance up at him, relief bursting in your chest as he smiles.

“I love you too, Y/N,” he says warmly. “You mean so much to me. So much.” You smile, thanking every god you can think of. “But you tell me that all the time - was there something else?” he asks, confused.

You kick yourself inwardly. Of course.

“No, I know that we say that a lot, like we care about each other, but I love you, Poe. I’m in love with you.” Knowing that if you stop now, you’ll probably never speak again, you continue on, hands still shaking like a leaf. “I love how passionate you are about flying, and how you always check on me if you know that I’ve had a bad day, and I love the way you always wake me up early to watch the sunset with you, and I just didn’t want to let you leave without telling you. Because I feel like you might feel the same way, and I’m not letting myself lose that. Not now. Not with you.” You look back up at him hopefully, a smile daring to tilt your lips upward.

Your stomach drops as you take in the look of bewilderment on his face.

“Are you sure?” he asks, pulling his hands from yours. You swallow thickly, nodding. “I don’t know what to say, Y/N, I’m sorry, but I just don’t feel the same way. I love you as a friend, but nothing more. I’m sorry.”

“Oh,” you say, face heating with shame. How could you be so stupid? “That’s ok,” you say, tucking your hands to your sides as a knot ties in your stomach. “I’m sorry,” you murmur, looking down at the floor. The shining tile reflects your fallen face back at you. Mockery at its finest.

“It’s fine,” he responds, his harsh tone slapping you across the face and leaving you breathless, a sharp pain taking root in your chest. Motioning to the door, he says, “I need to go.”

“Please comm me as soon as you get somewhere safe,” you call out after him, but you look up to find that he’s already left.

You aren’t sure how long you stand there, but by the time you draw on enough resolve to leave your quarters, Poe is long gone, taking any hope of reconciliation with him.

You want the tears to come, but they refuse to surface. It would be easier if you could be mad, find some fiber of your being that resents him now. But you can’t - how could you? Poe was good. Caring, kind, considerate beyond belief. Loyal.

Beautiful.

Shivering, you wrap your sweater tighter around yourself and walk to the door. You can't bear to talk to anyone right now.

As you close your door, you feel another one shut hundreds of parsecs away.

taglists:

permanent: @staarshines

poe: @zoriis @obiwns

Consequences of Anger-Spurred Outbursts

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Fem!Solo*!Reader

*(mainly bc i just wanted reader to be leia's daughter for comedic reasons, it's an easy bit to ignore if you'd like to do so)

Summary: After learning some information about one of your pilots, you go a little haywire. Poe is both impressed and a little shocked.

Word Count: 1700 ish

Warnings: dumbass men, punching, minor injuries

You were just about up to your neck in reasons to hurl the nearest wrench across the hangar. The mission had gone well, but what it going well entailed was driving you up the wall. You and Poe had been sent by Leia to meet General Calrissian about some troubling information he’d picked up in some backwater bar on Ryloth. Apparently, one of the Resistance’s pilots was dirty - selling out intel about Rebel tech to the First Order in exchange for credits. Even worse, Lando’s information had confirmed one of your deepest, most buried worries. That it was someone in your squadron.

You’d tried to remain impartial to the pilots under your command in the long extent you’d been on base, but Dext Stamat had always struck you as a little off. Rude, toeing the line of insubordination on multiple occasions, and always asking too many questions. Of course, curiosity and ambition among your pilots was usually a good thing. It meant that they were engaged, interested in the cause, and you always loved sharing the knowledge you’d picked up as you've traveled across the galaxy. However, Stamat had strange habits of asking for details about upcoming missions that even you didn’t know yet. It had unnerved you from the beginning of his stint in your squadron, especially as his questions began to coincide with mishaps, even smaller ones, that began to throw off missions of larger and larger scales.

And now, you knew why. That dirty, dirty pig.

You were going to skin him alive.

“Just wait 'til I get my hands on that piece of shit,” you snarl as Poe attempts to discreetly wrestle you away from the hustle and bustle of the main hangar to the tarmac outside. It’s best if this conversation goes unheard.

“I know you want to, and for a good reason, but you can’t. Leia- General Organa needs him alive. If he’s been communicating with the First Order, that means he knows how they’re operating, to a certain extent. He’s valuable to her. To us.” You sigh, letting the frustrated noise signal your reluctant agreement. He’s right, after all; Dext is a dirtbag, but he’s a dirtbag that could get you some leads. You take a deep breath, starting to feel yourself cool off.

“Hey, did you see me out there? I bet Dameron couldn’t do that.”

You furrow your brows, turning your head to find the source of your confusion.

Poe’s grip on your hands tightens as Dex and his pack of buddies (more like lower-level fighters that follow him around out of pure fear) enter the hangar. He’s boasting about a recent flight, of course. When is he not? Your blood boils in your veins, a roaring sound creeping into your ears as he rambles on and on about how he’d executed a double loop. It’s pretty basic, jackass. My mom could fly better than you.

You can feel your cheeks start to flush red. Poe sees, and wisely lets you go. It’s best if he lets you handle this on your own. You wouldn’t do anything brash, would you? No, he decides. You wouldn’t do anything.

He watches as you casually stroll past the group of men, leaning on a nearby fighter and picking at your nails with a spare screwdriver you’d found on your way over. From your spot closer to the pilot, you can hear every word tumbling carelessly out of his mouth.

“Yeah, I just punched it. Let ‘em eat my space dust, if you know what I mean.” He tilts his head back, guffawing at his own joke. The group around him quickly lets out a round of polite laughs, nervously glancing back and forth between Stamat and each other. “I straight-up smoked them, I tell you. I’d like to see Pretty Boy Poe pull that one off.” No longer able to contain yourself, you clear your throat, relishing the momentary look of bewilderment on Dext’s overexaggerated features. It doesn’t last long, unfortunately. His beady eyes quickly harden, lips tilting into a smirk.

“Hey, Solo.”

“That’s Commander Solo to you, Dex.” Using his nickname’s a low blow, you know that, but you just can’t put up with his bullshit anymore. Especially not after being told of what he’s been doing - what he’s cost you. Who he’s cost you. His jaw sets into a sharp line, and he lets out a low, raw noise that almost sounds like a growl.

“Oh, is that so, Commander?” he says mockingly, and you sigh, not meeting his eyeline as you return your attention to your gritty nails. Damn flight gloves - you should probably clean them more often. You smile inwardly as he grumbles with annoyance.

“You know, Stamat, I’d be more careful about how you treat superior officers,” you say lightly, tilting your head to meet his gaze. He sneers down at you, momentarily glancing back. You follow his sightline, to see Poe standing against a far wall.

“Why?” he whines comically, toying with you. “Or you’ll report me to your boyfriend?” You glare at him, and he just offers you his pathetic attempt at a simpering smile. “You look pretty flushed, Commander. Have you two been busy lately?” he asks, snickering. The roaring sound in your ears gets a little louder. It mingles with the sound of boots against concrete as Poe makes his way over. He’d heard that last comment.

“You heard her, Stamat. Watch it,” he warns. You cringe inwardly. Poe, why? Just let me deal with him. Please. Dext just ignores him, the only indication he’s aware of his presence being an offhand glance over his head.

“Aw, do you need him to come fight your battles for you?” he asks, chuckling. “How cute. You know, if this short stack of griddle cakes isn’t doing it for you, my quarters are always unlocked.”

“Are you fucking kidding me right now?” you say, taking a step forward. Poe grins as Stamat stumbles back.

That’s my girl.

“Oh, yeah, trust me, I can give you so much more than flyboy over here,” he sneers. He opens his mouth to spew some more infuriating bantha fodder, but the only sound that exits his mouth is a high-pitched yelp as your fist soars upwards and connects with his jaw. His heavy form collapses to the tarmac, and his eyes shudder closed. Poe freezes, turning to face you.

“Y/N!”

“WHAT?”

“You punched him!”

“Eh,” is all you say, before picking Stamat up by the arms and dragging him inside. Poe watches you exit the hangar, not knowing if he should worry about how mad Leia’s going to be or marvel at how strong you are.

After a few moments, he snaps out his trance and jogs into the building, following the trail of confused, concerned stares you’d left in your wake all the way up to the General’s small office in the middle of the base. He catches up to you just outside the door. You seem unfazed as you tote Dex’s rather large body around, and he just watches, in awe, as you drag him into the office.

Of all the things General Leia Organa thought she’d see today, Poe Dameron leaning in her doorway while her fuming daughter drags in the limp body of a pilot to her was not one of them. Still, it wasn’t totally out of left quadrant, so she just sighs, sits down on her small couch, and says: “You have five minutes to explain.”

To her shock, one of the usual rambling verbal essays she can often predict when talking with Commander Dameron doesn’t come. You just stretch your fingers and approach her, boots thudding softly against the floor.

“General Calrissian told us that this one here-” you pause to jerk your thumb downwards to the unconscious pilot who is now drooling on her carpet. “-has been selling us out. Giving details to the First Order about our new ships and weaponry. I’ve had a bad feeling about him for months, and now I know why. Do with that what you will. I’m gonna take tomorrow off. I injured my hand.” And with that, you walk out of her office, rubbing your knuckles. Poe stares after you, and the General waves a hand, dismissing him. He offers her an apologetic smile, then dashes out of the room.

He falls into step beside you, shooting a glance in your direction. His eyebrows shoot skyward as he surveys the poorly restrained satisfaction written on your face. For fuck's sake, you're grinning.

“Why in gods’ name are you smiling right now?” he asks, and you chuckle.

“I’ve always wanted to do that.” He pauses, staring at you. Your stomach drops. He looks offended. A muddled apology begins to tumble from your lips, but your words halt on your tongue as he bursts into laughter, takes your face in his hands, and presses his lips to yours.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs, and you blush, ears turning the color of a tomato. Smirking, Poe brushes a few stray hairs from your face. He finds it incredibly satisfying that you can knock a 6’4 dude out cold, yet he can still make you turn bright red in the blink of an eye. He goes to take your hand, but you pull away, hissing.

“I wasn’t kidding when I said I hurt my hand,” you say, and he blanches, concerned. “Don’t worry, just a little bruising.” He relaxes visibly, and you grab the corner of his jacket. He swings around to face you. “However, I think it is mandatory that you come watch a HoloVid with me and eat a slightly unhealthy amount of popcorn.”

“You just learned we’ve been sold out to the First Order and all you can think about is a sleepover?” he asks incredulously, not admitting he'd been on the verge of proposing the exact same plan.

“We’ve got a couple of days before we can do anything about it,” you say, and Poe narrows his eyes at you. He knows you’re right, of course. Grinning, you fix your eyes to his, pouting out your bottom lip slightly. Godsdamnit, you’re adorable when you do that, he thinks, finally conceding with a nod and an exaggerated eye roll. “Yessss,” you cheer through your teeth, pumping a fist in the air.

Poe chuckles, wrapping an arm around you and pressing a kiss to your hair. All things considered, this was shaping up to be a relatively decent afternoon.

taglists:

permanent: @staarshines

poe: @zoriis @obiwns

put in the tags the accessory that you (almost) always wear 

Birds : Poe Dameron x Reader

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Words: 1k

Summary: “When Poe Dameron takes his final breaths, he knows he will see birds.”

A look at those who remained with Poe throughout his entire life.

Warnings: Mentions of violence, sexual implications

A/N: So I haven’t posted any work in a minute…. Writer’s block is horrible; I’m sure we can all agree. Well, I’m back with this. It’s super short, loose in structure, but it’s a start…. Hope you enjoy!

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