#soft!poe

*

You’d been dating Poe for a few months the first time he wanted to take you to a med center.

He was nervous. The two of you had been out, strolling around downtown waiting for your table at a local restaurant to be ready—and then you’d tweaked something in your knee and needed to stop and rest. He’d found a park bench and helped you get to it, but you could tell he wanted desperately to fix the situation.

You’d experienced this feeling before—there were men who didn’t know what to do in an emergency other than fix it. If Poe couldn’t handle not having the power to make it all better—well, guys like that usually just ran.

“Sweetheart,” he said. “The pain you’re describing…it’s not normal.”

“It is for me,” you explained. “This happens a lot.”

He ran a hand through his dark curls and let out a long breath. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I just don’t understand why you don’t want me to help you.”

Arsix was at home tonight. If she were here she might offer you one of your tablets, maybe a few other home remedies, but even she understood that some things just took a little bit of time. And a little bit of rest.

“That’s not it,” you said. “If you could help, I would let you. But I need you to trust me when I tell you there’s nothing at the med center that will help me with my knee tonight.”

He took your hand. “I trust you,” he said. “What can I do?”

“Unfortunately,” you said, “I think I need you to take me home.”

He looked a bit stricken before he tried to hide his disappointment, anxiously running a hand through his hair again. “Okay,” he said. “Let me go get the speeder.”

You felt his worry, and a there was a tightness in your chest as you wondered whether this might be it for you and Poe. If maybe he’d hit some kind of mental roadblock, realizing you had real disabilities with real impairments that weren’t cute. Things would go wrong that he couldn’t heroically swoop in to solve.

But when he returned with the speeder, he had a sweet smile on his face, and he took your hand again as you slid into the passenger seat. The ride home was a little quiet, but Poe put music on, caressed your hand with his thumb.

When he finally pulled up to your place he said, “I understand why you don’t want to be with me tonight. I guess…sometimes you just need some space when you’re hurting, huh?”

“Poe,” you said. “When I said I wanted you to take me home, I didn’t mean I wanted you to leave”

“Oh?”

“I was hoping you’d come inside. That maybe you’d want to be with me even though I’m kind of a mess right now.”

“Kriff,” he said. “I’m an idiot. Of course I’ll stay.”

The door to your apartment slid open and Arsix was standing inside, twittering her concern.

“Knee issues,” Poe told the droid. “Is there anything you can do?”

Arsix beeped instructions to get you inside and on the sofa where you could elevate the injury on an ottoman while she got a heat wrap ready.

Gently, Poe eased you onto your sofa, asked if he could hold you. So you rested your head on his chest, letting out a deep breath as he wrapped an arm around you.

“Sorry I kind of ruined our date,” you said. “I know it’s not always easy with me.”

“Look at me,” Poe said, tilting your chin toward him. “Please don’t apologize for this. This wasn’t your choice, and I know that.”

You nodded, trying to hold back tears.

Poe leaned in to kiss you, a sweet, comforting kiss, his plush lips warm and soft. You took his face in your hands and invited the kiss to last a little longer. But you were so overwhelmed with relief that your tears begin to fall.

“Hey, now,” Poe said, brushing away your tears with the pads of his thumbs. “What’s wrong, sweetheart?”

“I really thought you were going to leave,” you said.

“I know that we haven’t known each other very long,” Poe said. “But the thing is…I’m in love with you. I love you. And that means I’m going to learn how to help you when you’re not well. And how not to help you. I’m going to learn what you need, and to be what you need, okay?”

“Wow,” you said. “That’s, um…that’s a lot.”

“It’s okay if you’re not ready…if you don’t—”

“I’m just a bit overwhelmed. Nobody has ever tried to become an expert in caring for me before.”

He laughed. “The sentiment stands. I can wait.”

“Okay.”

He was about to kiss you again when Arsix came into the room. She had a heat wrap and bacta spray with her, which she applied to your sore knee. As she rolled away she beeped and whistled a phrase that translated to you can kiss the General now.

You laughed and threaded your fingers through Poe’s hair as he bent to capture your mouth with his, his tongue a sweet thrill as it slipped passed your lips, his hand gently running over your shoulder to cradle your neck.

“Thank you for staying,” you said as he pulled away, giving you a moment to search for even the tiniest bit of deception in his warm brown eyes. There was none.

He kissed your forehead and said, “Always.”

Somehow, you believed him.

*

“How’s the finger?” you ask.

You and Arsix have just finished cleaning up the take-out mess in the dining area despite Poe’s protests. You don’t want him to tear any of his stitches, even though the high dose bacta should have him in pretty good shape within a few days.

“I’m fine,” Poe says. “Really. You must be exhausted.”

He comes up behind you as you’re drying off your hands, wraps his arms around your waist, and kisses your neck, his lips soft despite the rough scruff of his face. It’s been a couple of days since he last shaved and you have to admit—you don’t hate it.

You turn in his arms, threading your fingers through his hair, his soft curls wild after tonight’s misadventures. Smoothing his hair away from his face, you look into his eyes before pressing a kiss to his lips. “I need you to be more careful,” you say. “I think I like you best with all ten fingers.”

Poe lets his hands wander to the waistband of your pants and says “I think I know why,” with a cheeky grin.

“Seriously, though,” you say. “As much as I enjoy what you can do with your hands, I also just need you to be safe.”

You aren’t the only one concerned about Poe’s blatant disregard for his own safety. BB-8 had mentioned it more than once over the years. Finn let you know when things started to get serious between you and Poe that it was something you might want to keep an eye on. Because when Poe gets upset or ambitious or excited, safety goes out the window.

“You’re talking like I regularly put myself in danger.”

“Don’t you?” you ask. “Tonight it was a slip of a knife—a vibro-blade for stars’ sake. Tomorrow it could be lightspeed skipping or an insane bar bet you can’t turn down.”

Poe sighs deeply, pulls you close. He smells of his citrus-y soap, of the light, musky cologne he wears. You rest your head in the crook of his neck and he whispers, “I’m so sorry, sweetheart. I wasn’t thinking.”

“You need to think,” you say. “I’m counting on you to think. If anything ever happened to you…they can reattach a finger, an arm even. But one of these days it could be a lot worse than that and I need you to be here with me. To come home to me.”

Poe’s heart rate has started to increase, and you hope you haven’t induced a panic in him.

“Sometimes,” Poe says, “You remind me of Leia. I wish you could have met her.”

“I hope you’re not deflecting,” you say.

“I’m not,” he says. “Let me see your eyes.”

You pull away from his embrace and meet his tired gaze.

“Leia would have loved you for a lot of reasons. You’re strong, and you’re thoughtful, and you speak your mind. But she especially would have loved how you put me in my place,” Poe says. “Just like she used to do. And just like she usually was, you’re right.”

You can’t help but smile a little, taking Poe’s face in your hand, his brown and silver hair flopping forward into his eyes. “I love you,” you say. “Even when I want to stay mad at you, you make it so hard.”

He kisses you then, slowly, his hand on the small of your back, his lips fitting to yours perfectly. You touch your forehead to his and sigh.

“BB-8,” you say, knowing the droid is nearby. “Can you sweep the house for vibro-blades and put them all in the weapons locker in the garage?”

BB-8 chirps in agreement and gets to work.

*

You hadn’t expected for Poe to spend the night that night—you’d hardly expected him to stay after your date went sideways. But he did. And he didn’t seem to mind that, because of your extreme knee pain, it wasn’t a very romantic evening. Arsix was in and out of the bedroom all night, checking on you, bringing you medicine and changing out the heat wraps on your sore knee. Your overprotective tooka-cat was on edge, pacing the room as best as his three legs allowed in between naps at the end of the bed. And while it was hard for you to sleep when you were in this amount of pain, you found being with Poe through a difficult night like this somehow comforting.

It was in the early hours before dawn when you woke to find Poe asking Arsix if there was anything he could do.

“I feel so helpless,” he said.

Arsix warbled and whistled and you made out the phrase safe feelings with you.

“Yeah?”

You bring calm and warmth. Past boyfriends inconsiderate.

You smiled to yourself and rolled over in bed. You hadn’t met many others who talked to droids like Poe did, treating them like the people they were. Especially not in the middle of a sleepless night.

“You’re still here, Poe,” you said.

The moonlight was coming in through the windows, past the curtains that you could have sworn you’d closed before bed, but which your tooka-cat had likely disturbed. Poe put his arms around you and you laid your head on his bare shoulder, his skin warm as you reciprocated the embrace. You ran your hands through his dark curls, resting your palm at the back of his neck.

“Of course I am,” he said. “Did we wake you?”

“No. I’m just…awake again.”

“I’m sorry,” Poe said, his hands at your back, lightly massaging the spot that always ached when you’d been still for too long. Maybe he was more attuned to your needs than you’d realized.

“Not your fault,” you told him, yawning. “Thank you for being here. Nights like this can be hard. Not just because of the pain, but…it’s lonely sometimes.”

“I wish there was more I could do,” he said.

“I know,” you told him. “But what you’re doing right now is enough.”

Arsix twittered that she had tablets and bacta spray for you and you thanked her, sitting up so you could swallow the medicine. The little droid helped you apply the bacta to your knee before she rolled out of the room, telling you to ping her if you needed something.

“Come here, sweetheart,” Poe said as you settled back into the bed. He pulled you into his arms again, letting you get as comfortable as you could.

“This is nice,” you said.

Poe cupped your face, his thumb caressing you cheek, and as you pulled back to see his eyes in the near darkness, there was something there that you hadn’t seen before. A truth so deep and real that it could only be seen in this dim light. And he pressed a sweet kiss to your lips that told you this was the only place he wanted to be.

*

When Poe comes home from work today he’s wearing a blue flight suit with the arms tied around his waist, carrying a heavy duffel bag. You haven’t seen him like this in a long time, and you can’t help but admire how the white tank he’s wearing perfectly compliments his toned physique and the pretty tattoos on his arms and chest.

“What’s in the bag, General?” you ask.

You’d just come out of your office to make yourself a cup of tea—Poe wasn’t expected home for at least another hour.

“One of the kids spilled oil while I was teaching a refresher course on basic vehicle maintenance. Which would have been fine—it happens all the time, you know? But it got everywhere and when I went to shower and change…apparently the upperclassmen put my change of clothes in the freezer last week. In a tub of water.”

“Why am I not surprised?”

“This was all I had in the office,” he says, gesturing at his attire. “So.”

“And that’s the block of ice?” you ask, pointing at the bag.

He nods.

“I guess we can just put it in the back yard to thaw,” you said. “Have you considered not telling your students all the stupid shit you did when you were a kid?”

Poe laughs, reaching for you. Taking his hand, you let him pull you into an embrace.

“Don’t lie, though,” Poe says. “You think this look is kinda hot, don’t you?”

“Maybe a little,” you say.

You smooth his hair away from his face, his curls a bit more wild than usual, and he tilts your chin toward him to kiss you, letting his tongue tease you just a little as his lips meet yours.

When your front door slides open to reveal BB-8 towing a small shopping bag, Poe pulls away.

“There you are, buddy,” Poe says.

BB-8 chirps a response that translates roughly to flowers acquired.

“For me?” you ask.

Poe gets the bag from BB-8 and pulls out a bouquet full of your favorites. “I’m sorry about last night,” he says. “It was an unnecessary stressor for you, and I shouldn’t have been doing something so reckless. I talked to my therapist on my lunch beak today—she also wasn’t impressed.”

You take the flowers and admire the arrangement, take in their sweet scent before grabbing a vase from the cupboard and filling it with water. “What did she say?” you ask.

“Something about thrill-seeking behavior after spending so many of my formative years in life and death situations.”

“Sounds familiar.” You’re told him the same thing on multiple occasions.

“I know,” he says. “I need some new hobbies.”

“That I can help you with,” you say. “There are ways to feel alive that don’t put you in danger.”

Poe steps close to you again, runs his fingertips down you cheek before softly touching your lower lip with his thumb. And you place your hands at his waist, playing at the hem of his undershirt, which he swiftly removes.

“I can think of one way to feel alive that might be nice right now,” he says.

Poe presses his body flush to yours as you lean back into the kitchen counter, drawing you into a hungry, urgent kiss, cradling your face in his hands. You let your hands wander from his muscular back down to his perfect ass, pulling him even closer.

“Bedroom?” you ask, almost breathless.

“Yeah,” he says. “Bedroom.”

When you’re watching him peel himself out of the ill-fitting flight suit, you laugh—and he retaliates by playfully pushing you into the bed where he climbs on top of you, undressing you, kissing your lips, your nose, your neck, your shoulders.

“Sweetheart,” he says, “let me show you how alive you make me feel.”

As he trails kisses down your chest and abdomen, your mind empties itself of every pain, every stress, every worry. “I love you,” you tell him.

And from under the covers, placing one more kiss to your belly, he replies, “I know.”

★★★★★★★★ Thank you so much for reading! I wanted to write some nice, soft Poe for y'all. I hope this fic makes you feel seen and loved.

I have a taglist now! Sign up here if you want to be tagged in future fics. (And choose if you only want to be tagged for certain characters.)

“Should we put on the holonews?” you ask. “So we know when—”

“No,” Poe says. “BB-8 sliced into the police coms. He’s going to tell us when they know something.”

“How did he manage that?”

Poe laughs. “I honestly don’t ask questions anymore.”

“How are you so calm right now?” you ask. “This person out there, somewhere near us…wanting to hurt people like you.”

“Because if I let that fear in, it will control me. And I can’t be in that dark place again. I’d rather be here, with you.”

You reach for Poe’s face, the stubble that’s grown in since he shaved this morning rough against your palm, his hair falling out of place as he leans in to kiss you. You run a hand through his wild curls, his lips soft as he pulls you in deep. You can’t help but smile as his hands start sliding down your back toward your hips.

Arsix rolls into the room beeping about your elevated heart rate, and when you both look up, she warbles something about a false alarm and scoots away.

You can’t help but laugh as Poe strokes your cheek. He’s trailing his fingers down your neck when he notices what you’re wearing.

“Is this my scarf?” he asks. 

“Is it?” you reply, knowing that both of you know it’s not only his but one of his favorites.

“It suits you.”

*

You weren’t sure how many dates you’d been on with Poe—mostly because it took a few outings for you to figure out whether these outings were actually dates. Most of your plans had come about casually, as if on a whim. But tonight he’d asked you ahead of time if he could take you out. And when he picked you up he looked…dressed up. Where you’d usually seen him in some combo of jeans and a t-shirt with his resistance jacket—or occasionally a flight suit—tonight he wore (very) well-tailored brown pants with a collared shirt and a scarf. 

“What’s wrong?” Poe asked, reaching across your front door’s threshold to take your hand, sneaking in a little caress with his thumb over your knuckles.

“Nothing,” you said. “You just look really, really nice.”

“Thank you,” he said. “It’s about time I tried to impress you a little.”

“I’m impressed,” you told him. “Let me just grab my coat—”

You were interrupted as you almost tripped over your tooka cat, a plump creature you’d taken home with you after seeing him in the window of a shelter soon after coming to Chandrila. He had three legs and one eye, but his heart was as loving and mischievous as any other tooka.

“Hey, little guy,” Poe said, crouching a bit to offer his hand for a sniff.

The tooka hissed and retreated to circle your feet.

“Huh,” he said. “They usually like me.”

You laughed. “He’s protective,” you said. “We’ve both seen some hard times. But if you show him who you are, he’ll probably come around.”

Arsix beeped from down the hall to remind you to take your com. As you grabbed it from the kitchen counter, Poe called into your apartment, “Don’t worry, Arsix. I’ll have her home before dark.”

“You absolutely will not,” you replied. 

He raised an eyebrow, but took your hand again and you walked with him out to his landspeeder.

He was about to open the door for you, but stopped. There was a look of consternation on his face for only a moment before he said, “I know traditionally this is done after I bring you home. But I just…I really want to kiss you. Would it be okay if I—”

“Please.”

Tenderly he took your face in his hands, a playful smile in his eyes as he leaned in, first touching his nose to yours and then capturing your lips with his. It was brief and it was sweet, and you leaned into it, your hands wandering over his muscled chest before wrapping your arms around his neck.

Poe rested his forehead against yours. “Should we go?” he asked.

“Sure,” you said. 

Poe kissed you again—a little peck—before opening the speeder door for you. As soon as he slid into the driver’s seat, Poe took your hand. You couldn’t remember the last time you felt this safe.

*

It was late when you realized neither of you had eaten since lunch. BB-8 offered to go pick something up, but Poe insisted on cooking. “I need to do something with my hands,” he’d said. You knew at this point that Poe was feeling more than he wanted you to see. That keeping his hands busy was a way he could keep his mind busy. As he went through the cupboards for ingredients, you rolled your thumb over your wedding ring, thinking of all the stories Poe had told you about his mother. 

Poe had learned to cook from both of his parents, but he especially liked making a dish his mother taught him when he was young and which his father continued to make for him on difficult nights into his teens. He’d taken to making this for you on evenings that you needed comfort as well. 

Later, as you and Arsix are cleaning up the kitchen and putting away the leftovers, BB-8 lets out a long chirp—loud enough to wake up Poe, who had fallen asleep on the couch after dinner. He sits straight up from what you know is a heavy sleep, clearly alarmed. 

“BB-8,” he says, “you have news?”

The droid chirps and whistles, unable to contain his own relief as he wobbles in place. Suspect in custody. Threat neutralized. 

“Did anybody get hurt?” you ask.

BB-8 whistles low. Several injuries. No deaths.

“Thanks, buddy,” Poe says. “Now get the hell out of the police coms before you get caught.”

Poe meanders out to the kitchen and wraps his arms around you, gently kissing your forehead. “You didn’t have to clean up,” he says. I know your back hasn’t been great this week, I would have done it when I woke up.”

“I’m feeling better tonight,” you say. “And Arsix did most of it. I didn’t want to wake you. You’ve been trying not to show it, but I know you’re feeling the stress of the day, too.”

“You see right through me, don’t you?” He leans in, touches his nose to yours. 

You run your fingers through Poe’s hair, his curls having grown a bit long in recent months, threaded with silver. 

“I’m sure you get away with a lot just because you’re pretty.”

The truth is Poe isn’t keen on his hair going gray—a point of vanity that you’ve talked him through more than once. How you love the silver that’s come in since you met, back when his hair was mostly dark. Just as you love the way his eyes crinkle in the corners every time he smiles. 

He lets his hand wander down your back toward the hem of your shirt and you think you know where things are headed when your tooka-cat jumps up on the counter, knocking over an empty canteen. You’ve shooed the tooka away when you see the spot on Poe’s shirt

“Poe, you’ve got a bit of sauce there.”

You’re turning to get a stain stick out of the kitchen drawer, but he surprises you when he says, “I guess it has to come off, then.”

He unbuttons his shirt and shrugs out of it, tossing it over a chair, and pulls you toward him. His skin is warm as you touch your hands to his firm chest, his broad shoulders, the tattoo on his left bicep of a tree his mother planted on Yavin IV, the intricate blossoms falling down his arm. Somewhere underneath is a scar he chose to conceal. “To move forward,” he’d told you, years ago.

“So how much better is your back, sweetheart?” he asks.

“It’s good,” you say, leaning into a soft, hungry kiss with one hand on his shoulder and the other at the back of his neck, giving his hair the lightest tug.

*

There were only a few people left in the little restaurant when you and Poe decided to order after-dinner caf. It was late, but it seemed that neither of you wanted to leave yet. Like if you stayed in this spot forever, the night couldn’t end.

Poe had started to seem a little nervous. As if he hadn’t told you intimate details of his life on the day you met. Or kissed you before getting in the speeder tonight. 

“I don’t think you ever told me where you grew up, General,” you said.

This drew a smile from him, a man clearly proud of his service, but not so proud as to not enjoy a little teasing.

“Yavin,” he said. “Yavin IV. My parents settled there after the last war. A bunch of families did.”

“That sounds nice,” you said. “And very warm, if I recall.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Do you think I’m going to need a new jacket for winter?”

“Probably,” you said. “So you’re a new arrival?” 

“I’ve only been here for six months,” Poe said, running his thumb along the edge of his caf cup. “Chandrila, I mean. Hanna City. Just…got offered this teaching job by a friend of a friend and…a new start sounded nice, you know?”

“I came here for that, too,” you said. “Three years ago. And there’s a doctor here, a specialist who has been helping me. And after the war…it was a bit of a perfect storm of reasons to make some big changes. So I did.”

Poe’s face turned a bit serious for a moment. “A good doctor can be hard to come by.”

You noticed he was clutching his left bicep. “Old injury?”

“Healed by a good friend. A very good, very patient friend.” He sighed. “Mostly healed. Some wounds never heal right, you know?”

“I do know, actually,” you said. “If you ever want to tell me about it, I’m happy to listen.”

For a fleeting moment, the look on Poe’s face told you he’d gone somewhere you couldn’t follow. “I swear, Kalonia was ready to kill me herself by the time I left the Navy,” he said. “But that’s another story for another time.” He reached across the table to take your hand. 

You looked up and realized you were the last two in the place. “I think they’re waiting for us to leave.”

“You want me to take you home, huh?” he asked.

“Mostly I just want you to kiss me again.”

The two of you had barely made it to the speeder when Poe pulled you close and pressed a kiss to your lips that was both satisfaction and invitation. An electric feeling ran through your body as you deepened the kiss, threading your fingers through his soft, dark curls. And the whole sky felt more open and vast than you had ever known it to be, as you let yourself live in this moment, wondering at the fact that somehow the two of you were alive, that your lips fit so perfectly together, that no matter what you told him about the difficulties of your life he still seemed to see you as a whole person.

You’d brought yourself close to tears when you said, “Now you can take me home, Poe.”

*

You’re surprised to find Poe in the kitchen when you wake—he should be at work. 

“What are you doing at home?” you ask.

“Academy told everyone to stay home today,” he said. “The whole school district, actually. Just in case.”

He's a flight intstructor at one of the public schools. Poe had been offered teaching jobs before at fancy private institutions and more than one of the military academies, but it was a public school that finally lured him in. As he told you soon after you met, “everyone deserves the opportunity to learn to fly.”

You breathe in the aroma of freshly brewed caf, and Poe pours you a cup before you even think to ask. On ice of course, sweetened. 

“What do you say we go out today?” he asks. “Unless you have any work you need to get done. I was just thinking, after last night, it might be nice to just…go do something.”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Maybe we could just go downtown, see what’s going on. Maybe hang out in the park for a bit, visit those shops you like down by the water…”

“Slow down, Poe,” you say. “Let me go get dressed. And then we can go anywhere you want.”

“Anywhere?” he asks, a cheeky grin on his face.

“Within reason.” 

“Okay,” he says. “But first, just one thing.”

He pulls you close, taking the cup of caf out of your hands and placing it on the counter.

“I thought that was mine,” you say.

He tugs at the tie at the waist of your robe, pushing the soft fabric away from your shoulder so he can kiss you there—and then your throat, your jaw, and finally your lips. And you are so happy to be kissed by Poe that you forget the caf, the kitchen, the rest of the galaxy as his strong arms pull you close and he presses his body flush against yours. There is nothing between you but the slightest whisper as he lets one hand linger on your hip.

“Stars, you’re beautiful,” he says. “Did you know that? How beautiful you are?”

“You’ve mentioned it,” you say.

“It’s true.”

“I believe you.”

You could stay in this moment forever, but your elbow bumps the cup of caf on the counter and you’re right back in your kitchen on Chandrila—and there’s caf running down your leg.

“Kriff,” Poe says. “I’m so sorry—I’ll take care of this.”

“We’ve both seen worse things than a caf spill,” you say.

He smiles and says, “We have, haven’t we?”

Poe waves you out of the kitchen and you head back to the bedroom to clean up. You throw on something casual as Arsix comes in to check on you and remind you to take your morning meds. 

“Thanks, I almost forgot,” you say. “It looks like Poe and I are going to be in town today. Do you need anything while we’re out?”

She beeps excitedly about a new paperback she was hoping to find at a local bookshop, and you have her send the info to your datapad. You’re always happy to bring home new books for your odd little droid—everyone needs hobbies, and Arsix has been an invaluable companion. Sometimes you wonder how you coped without her for so long.

Poe is waiting for you in the kitchen with his jacket on. “You look perfect, sweetheart” he says, the smile on his face saying just as much as his words.

You’ve spent so much of your life being told that you’re broken or—perhaps worse—a burden that it’s stunning to see yourself through Poe’s eyes. You kiss his cheek and are about to head out to the garage when he stops you.

“Just a minute. I have…” Poe pauses and pulls a scarf from his pocket—his scarf—and ties it loosely around you neck. “There,” he says. “Now we’re ready to go.”

When he takes your hand you feel a bit of the electricity from the first night he kissed you. Every kiss that night felt both new and familiar and every touch still carries some of that thrill. You spot the speeder bike in the garage—a recent acquisition—and suggest that today might be a good day to take it out. 

Poe is more than happy to entertain this idea, and when you hop on the back of the bike and wrap your arms around his middle, you have no idea what the rest of the day will bring. But pulling out of the garage and away from the driveway, you’re grateful that whatever comes next it will be with Poe. 

★★★★★★★★

Thank you so much for reading! I hope this fic is a soft landing for you, and that you feel seen and loved. Really just wanted to create something sweet since the last fic I posted was a little intense. Tagging some folks who I think would enjoy: