Anon asked: Can you please make me more Poe x reader? :) Your imagines are so awesome!!
Anon asked: Imagine Poe Dameron falling in love with you
Anon asked: Imagine Poe Dameron teaching you how to fly an X-Wing
A/N: fluff is chicken soup for feelings. this fic is like chicken soup but with a few chilli flakes, because I don’t really know how to write fluff competently, I’m not sure what I’m doing, but it’ll still hopefully be good. unedited and a lil bit messy.
There was a loud whine, indicative of an engine failure, that overwhelmed you. The surface of the planet you had been flying around was rapidly approaching, and there wasn’t anything you could do to slow your descent.
“Poe! What do I do?! What do I do?!” You yelped, pressing any button you could, heart racing as you were about to crash. You could see the tops of the trees ahead and knew that you were done for, you moved your hands to clutch at your chest, waiting for the inevitable. Right as the ship made contact with the ground, the screen snapped to black and your stats from the simulation came up. The door of the cockpit opened with a hiss, and the first thing you could hear was Poe’s laughter.
“Shut up, it’s not funny.” You snapped, climbing out, your heart racing. The simulation had done at least one thing right, you actually felt as if you were going to die.
“Well,” Poe was trying and failing to school his expression into a suitable, not-laughing one, “you did better than last time.” He offered, not that there was much to celebrate, “At least this time you didn’t crash into Endor, you crashed into…” he trailed off and you dropped your head into your hands.
“The Forest Moon of Endor.” You groaned, overly dramatic, “I’ve done it! I’ve destroyed a Rebel Monument and countless Ewok villages!” You threw your hands in the air. “I’ll never be a pilot, Poe, never.” There was a serious edge to your joking tone, and you weren’t sure whether you had intended it or not, either way, Poe was looking at you with something akin to determination. “Don’t.” You simply said, and he frowned.
“Don’t what?” He asked, vaguely bewildered.
“Don’t do that thing where you tell me everything’s going to be all right, that I’m not as terrible as I think.” You ran your hands through your hair.
“Well, now that you mention it-” He began, but you held up a single finger. He pressed his lips together and shrugged helplessly. “Fine. I won’t say anything.” He agreed.
It goes on like this, weeks upon weeks, you slowly get better, but you don’t seem to grow any more optimistic. Each session ends in disaster and despite your obvious progress, you won’t listen to Poe’s praise. The problem is that BB-8 is a dead giveaway, the droid refuses to lie, and holds all Resistance pilots’ to Poe’s impossibly high standard. Even relative newcomers such as yourself were cut little slack by the fiercely loyal droid.
It takes months until the little astromech began to begrudgingly respect your developing skills. That first positive whistle from them had your mood soaring, and you struggled to keep your face from showing the relief your heart felt. It mustn’t have worked, however, as Poe’s beaming at you, wrapping his arms around you in triumph.
“BeeBee’s a harsh critic, ‘feels good getting praise, doesn’t it?” He asked, and when he pulled back, there was a flush to both of your cheeks that neither of you comment upon, however BB-8 rolls back and forth, whistling with something akin to suspicion. Poe looks as though he’s about to say something, a new and unfamiliar look in his eyes, but the look leaves as soon as it arrives and he closes his mouth, shaking his head with a huff of laughter. “We’ll get you in the air yet.” He murmurs, clapping you on the shoulder as he walks off.
It takes months to finally get you flying an actual X-Wing, and not one day goes past that you don’t think of that face Poe had made, like he was on the verge of realising or admitting something important. Somewhere along the line you realising yourself that you had feelings for Poe that you couldn’t put into words. You were reminded of this fact every time he looks at you after a simulation, with glowing praise and a starry-eyed expression. Even BB-8 seemed to be warming up to you, beeping fondly whenever he rolled past in the halls.
The day Poe presented you with an Honest-To-Maker flight suit, BB-8 was right by his side, looking up at you with what you optimistically interpreted as pride. It came as a shock when Poe, chest puffed out with pride of his own, announced that the little astromech volunteered to be your copilot for your first real flight.
“There’s no-one I’d rather have with me.” You find yourself saying before you can even register the words, but then BB-8 flicks out their lighter in what Poe assured you was the equivalent of a thumbs up, a gesture which you mirrored. In no time, you were beginning pre-flight checks in an actual X-Wing. The X-Wing itself wasn’t in top shape, but it’s all the Resistance could spare, and you were thankful either way.
Handing you a helmet, Poe leaned against the side of the cockpit as you strapped yourself in.
“I’ll be with you the entire time.” He assured, tapping knowingly on metal arm extending from the helmet that attached it to the comlink. In a rush of gratitude and excitement, you pressed a kiss to his cheek.
“You better be.” You said, though the nervousness you were feeling bled into your words, and Poe’s blush faded as he looked more concerned than flustered, and he assured you, with an expression full of affection, that you’d do great.
“You know how I idolised Leia growing up?” That was not what you expected to come over the comlink after both a successful takeoff and a full half an hour of circling D’Qar, giving a running commentary on your status as Poe listened patiently to give advice. The flight was going well, BB-8 had chirped along quite happily when you asked how you had been doing, so all seemed to be going well.
“Yes, I am aware of your embarrassing crush on the General.” You told him, you could almost hear the way his head dropped whenever you mentioned it, his face turning an entertaining shade of pink.
“Not the point.” He muttered, but you laughed anyway. You began to descend through the atmosphere, looking for a place to land safely. There was a field up ahead, beside a lake, it looked good enough.
“I’m coming in for landing.” You announced, momentarily distracting him.
“OK, good, how’s she looking, BeeBee?” He asked, and the droid must have sent something positive back because he’s laughing, and you can feel, despite the panic of descent, something ease in your chest at the sound. “BeeBee tells me you’re looking good.”
“Thanks,” you breathed, trying to focus on the task at hand while Poe got back to his topic.
“The General, she taught me that anything can happen, and if you have a chance, you have to take it.” It sounded like he was trying to work up to something, but you felt your attention being pulled further and further away as the ship began to beep and the ground was getting closer.
“Is this really the time?” You asked, and Poe choked out a startled laugh at the irony. “Are you telling me this because I’m about to die?” You asked, voice rising with distress.
“No, I’m just- I’m just saying, I think I’ve got a chance and I don’t want to just throw that all away.” He said. You realised that you had overshot the field and were about to plummet straight into the lake. BB-8 was beeping furiously at you and you tried to split your focus before you cried out, throwing your hands up to cover your face.
You lurched forward in your seat, snapping back. The lake was less of a lake than you had previously thought. It seemed to ony be about waist high with a soft, muddy bedding. The engines didn’t seem waterlogged, and apart from the mud on your window from where the nose had grazed the surface of the lake, there didn’t seem to be a lot of damage.
“[Y/N]!” Poe called your name, terror in his voice. Your head still spinning, you groped at the side of your helmet to bring the comlink closer to your face where it had been pushed up to face the roof of the cockpit. You tried to talk, but you instead made a bleary groan, BB-8 chirping woozily behind you. “Are you all right? What happened?” Poe asked, and you groaned, rolling your neck.
“Lake…” You managed, before wiggling your jaw to free it from shock, “I crashed into the lake.” There’s a pause, before a sigh of exasperation from the other end of the line.
It’s about half an hour before you were picked up, Poe flying a restored LAAT that did a pretty spectacular job of lifting your waterlogged ship into the air like it weighed nothing. All that time, your thoughts were consumed by Poe’s words, the nerves in his voice that you had heard only once, in the memory of a successful simulation, his hesitation that lead to him diverting the conversation. He’d tried this confession before, you realised, but he didn’t even know how to describe what he had been feeling, so he kept himself quiet.
You had both been quiet about the same thing, you realised, for a very long time.
“I love you.” It’s the first words out of your mouth when you climb in the LAAT’s copilot seat as it sits waiting for you in the field you had just missed. You’re met with Poe’s worried gaze and a question about your safety that died on his tongue.
“What?” He managed after a moment, and there was a sudden sinking sensation in your chest that you had misread the situation, until, from the quiet carcass of your crashed X-Wing, came an angry beeping from BB-8. “I mean-” Poe’s thoughts stammered into action at the droid’s insistence, and seeing the nervousness suddenly on your face, his expression softened, and he chuckled softly. “Beat me to it.” He mused, and despite your relief and excitement, another set of angry beeps came from the cabin of the craft.
“Yeah, I’m getting to it!” Poe calls out with mock annoyance, and then he turns back with a grin. “I love you too.” He paused. “Have for a while now.” You had tried to restrain yourself, but it’s like a dam had burst inside of you, pent up love and affection spilling out all at once, and it’s all you can do to kiss him, leaning over the space between your seats. There’s a beep from behind you both that sounds equal parts content and exasperated, and the way Poe grins and stifles his laughter against your lips can mean the droid said the one thing you were all thinking.
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