the-little-ewok

[the-little-ewok]

🥹☺️ Thank you so much for the lovely reblog tag! Your interaction means a lot to me! I'm so glad you enjoyed it!

The F-Word

The F word Poe Dameron X G/N reader Rating : T+  Wordcount : 6500(ish) Warnings : Angst, FLUFF, canonical style violence, mention of injury, mention of blood, talk of death, near death experience, language, idiots in love, Poe just being adorable Summary : Poe Dameron often likes to say he's "fine", it's "fine", everything's "fine". But when a mission goes drastically wrong you no longer believe the pilot and his use of the F-Word.

A/N : Softer and fluffier than it sounds I promise…

GIF by the lovely Salome-C

Anon - I know you submitted this request forever ago. I'm sorry it took so long to write. Since I wasn't sure which prompt list you wanted number 45 form I picked number 45 from two lists: "You're hurt. Please just let me heal it" & "I bought this. It's your favourite colour."

— — — — — —

There were two things you had quickly realised about Poe Dameron since joining the Resistance. 

The first is that the rumours were true. He actually is the best pilot in the galaxy, and much more humble about it than you would have expected. And the second, is that whenever the pilot used the word "fine", things were, in general, very much not fine. 

So listening to him grit out the word through clenched teeth, hammering buttons on the console in front of him as the ship groans and alarms blare around you, you already knew things were bad. Very, very bad. 

Glancing over at him, you can see sweat trickling down his brow, he's breathing hard, one hand pressed tightly against his side, the glistening of red peeking through his fingers. He'd insisted that the glancing blow from a vibro-knife during the fight that had you running back to your ship, had been nothing. He insisted it barely grazed him, and he'd be perfectly fine, but that you needed to leave now. And with the First Order hot on your tails, you hadn't had time to question it. That is, until now.

"Poe, please tell me that's not blood I'm seeing!"

"I said I'm fine," he growls in response, slamming his hand down on the controls before swinging the ship around in a way that has you almost thrown from your seat. 

"You're hurt! I need to patch that!" 

"Now is not the time to play medic when we have the first order busting in our cargo doors!" He shouts, clearly frustrated with your concern.

"Now's not the time for you to bleed out over the kriffin floor, either!" You yell back, redirecting your fire to take out a Tie creeping up on you. 

"I know that!" He snaps, swinging the ship again. "This is not good. Not good."

You can hear him mumbling to himself between stuttered breaths as he tries to get your hyperdrive back online, while simultaneously trying to evade the first order fire. You yourself are barely keeping pace with your shots, there's too many, too quick, and Poe's flying is too erratic. 

"Poe, I'm having some real trouble here," you shout over the noise, taking out another two ties, which are quickly replaced by more.  

"I just need…a few minutes." Something in his voice sounds wrong, it's quiet, barely whispered out above the blaring alarm. It sends fear shooting through you. 

Taking your eyes from the battle in front of you, you look back over at him. His movements are sluggish, and he groans leaning over the console. When he catches you looking, he shakes his head. 

"I'm fine. Just keep shooting."

You want to keep looking at him, to make sure he's still breathing at least, but trying to keep up with the enemy ships surrounding you needs all of your attention, and when the ship judders and groans under another hit, you have no choice but to concentrate on the battle. That is, until a soft series of beeps gets both your attention.

"Ok good. Hyperdrives up, mostly," the pilot nods, taking a deep breath. "It'll do what we need." 

Another round of fire glances off your shields, making the ship give a shudder of protest before you spin to take out the Tie circling you.

"Shields aren't going to…hold...much…l-longer.' His words are slurred and spaced as he tries to breathe through the pain every jolt of the ship must be causing him. Even with the little medical training you have, you know the amount of blood spreading out across his shirt, the amount of pain he's in, is not a good sign. 

"Poe?" 

"Just shoot!" He yells, making you flinch at his tone. 

Shoot. All you had to do was shoot. 

~

With a shudder the ship blips into hyperspace, taking a series of quick timed jumps, designed to throw off anyone who would try to follow you. When you finally come to the last jump, deep in the heart of dead space, you check the tracking console and let out a woot.

"We did it! I don't think they managed to follow us! Poe we-" the words die on your tongue as you glance over at the pilot. He's deathly pale, sweat making his hair curl at the ends, staring at the beeping console display with a frown. "Poe, you're not happy? Why aren't we happy?"

"I don't…it's fine. We'll be fine," his fingers continue tapping away, watching the flickering statistics scroll past. 

"Why aren't we happy?" You ask again quietly, worry creeping into your tone. Bringing your eyes back to the display, you pull up the same information he has, and your stomach drops. The shields were gone, life support was rapidly running out and worse your fuel tank had been hit. The last of your fuel had been burned up with the final jump, rendering the ship dead. 

Poe must see the look of horror on your face, and he constantly tries to reassure you in a soft, confident tone. The one he used on you when you went into your first battle and froze. The one he uses to talk to the new recruits when they get scared.

"Hey, don't worry, ok? I can-I can get a signal…out…everything will be fine."

Drawing your eyes back to the pilot, you watch as he doubles over, red seeping out over his fingers as he clutches his side, gasping in pain. You're out of your seat and at his side in seconds, trying to peel his hands away, so you can assess the situation. 

"Poe, you gotta let me look at it," you beg, kneeling down and placing your hands over his. 

"We don't… have time," he grits out, panting for breath.

"Yeah and I don't have time for you to go dying on me, ok? You're going to bleed out, and I'm not going to be the girl that let the poster boy of the resistance die!" You hold his stubborn gaze steady until he finally drops his hand away from his stomach. Letting out a soft sigh of relief, you carefully lift up his shirt to look at the wound, flinching at his hiss of pain. Your stomach gives a sickening turn as you take in the ragged slice through his side. 

"Ok, ok, so, it probably just looks worse than it is right? Sure, you're about to tell me you're fine." You force a smile to your lips as you press your hand over the wound, attempting to stem the bleeding. 

The fact he's strangely quiet is what makes you look up again. His head lolls on his chest, eyes closed, sweat dripping off his brow, breathing…but barely. 

~

"Keep still, I'm not done." You sigh as he moves for what feels like the thousandth time as you try to stitch his wound.

"It hurts!" The pilot complains, shifting again, which earns a growl of warning from you.

"Yeah, well I'm not a medical droid, so you're gonna have to put up and stop whining about it. Or shall I just let you continue to bleed out all over the cockpit? Besides, the painkillers will kick in soon enough."

He lets out another hiss of pain, and you do feel bad, really you do. If you had a med droid it would have been quicker, easier and Poe probably would have stayed asleep for it. Unfortunately for you, he'd woken with a start, ripping half the stitches out when he tried to jump out of the pilot seat, meaning you had to start over with very little medical equipment. And since then he seemed to do everything possible to make this job harder.

Pausing in your actions, you soften your approach, letting out a sigh and trying to bite down your building fear. 

"You're hurt. Please just let me heal it?"

"I'm fine," he insists with an annoyed huff, but looking him over you can still see the sheen of sweat on his skin and the stuttered way he's breathing through the pain, especially since you had to remove his shirt to patch the wound. 

"Yeah, course you are," you mutter, pushing him back down when he tries to get up. "Please don't move. I'm not a good medic, and the resistance needs you alive."

"Disagree." He lets out a hiss of pain as you put in another stitch. "Actually, bad medic part, I might agree with."

He groans as he tries to get up again, and this time when you press him down you hold your hands against his chest, pinning him in place.

"Poe, stop! I'm serious. Sit your damn ass down and let me finish this." Something in your tone seems to make him stop, gazing up at you and giving you an almost playful smile. 

"Yes ma'am," 

"Remind me never to fly with you again," you mutter to yourself, going back to fixing a medpatch and bandage over the wound. Frowning at the blood still seeping through.

Taking off your scarf, you gently try to clean up some of the blood covering his side, checking for any further injuries. Poe gently catches your wrist, holding you still as his eyebrows pull together. 

"You know that's going to get ruined? It's your favourite one."

You frown at the fact he knows that, but then the rational part of your brain kicks in. Of course he does, you wear it everywhere. It had been a gift from home, the last thing you'd taken with you when you left for the resistance, a reminder of what you would be fighting for. You're home, everyone's homes, families, loved ones.

"Yeah well, it's just material," you shrug, refusing to look up at him, "I can get a new one."

"It's not, though, is it?" He asks softly, letting you go. From the corner of your eye you see him fingering the chain around his neck, and you know he understands. Things are most often never what they appear to be. 

You stay silent, going back to cleaning him up, and he doesn't stop you again or push you for an answer, instead he lets silence settle over you for a long moment. 

"Sorry I've been a bit of a dick. I shouldn't have yelled at you. I know you're trying to help," You pause and lift your eyes to look at him, but Poe is staring at his boots.

"The state of you, I'd say you're in an immense amount of pain. If I was you, I'd have done a lot more yelling. So please don't apologise," you give him a reassuring smile, watching as his eyes flick over your face.

"Still sorry," he sighs softly. Catching your hand, he squeezes your fingers gently. "I just didn't want anything to happen to you. I just want to get you back safely."

Even though both your hands are covered in blood, and you're floating through space waiting to be blasted into stardust by the First Order, or suffocated when the life support runs out, the touch still makes your heart leap. You're fairly sure he has no idea of the crush you've been harbouring since meeting the resistance pilot, and in all honesty you're glad for that. Poe, with his good looks and reputation could have anyone he wanted, and you suspect he did. There was no need to embarrass yourself, or him, when he turned you down. 

You can't find an answer to his words, so you allow the silence to drag out for much longer than it needs to, savouring the feeling of his hand in yours. Of course, Poe wants to get you back safely. He holds himself accountable for too many deaths already, although they aren't his fault. If you died out here he'd only blame himself and that's the last thing you want. 

But you couldn't let yourself think like that. Someone would come for you and everything would be fine. There wouldn't be anymore bodies to add to his conscience today.

Letting go of his hand, you swallow hard and busy yourself clearing up the medical equipment. 

"So, Commander, how are you feeling? Let me guess, fine?" You ask, still unable to look back up at him and trying to lighten the tension threading through the cockpit. His answer is so smooth you could almost think he's had it lined up for a while now.

"Like you're just using this as an excuse to see me shirtless."

You hope he doesn't notice the way your hands fumble on the medkit at his words, or the way the heat rises to your face. Instead, you try to cover them both with a sigh and a roll of your eyes. 

"Not everyone is trying to get you naked, you know."

"I didn't say everyone. I said y-" he cuts off his own words, letting out a low whine of pain as he sits up, leaning over the console. "We gotta try and get some help or get moving before they catch up. Remind me again why we didn't bring an astromec?"

"Easy mission, in and out, non-hostile, won't need one, and BB is busy doing something for the General. I can handle this myself." 

Poe gives a huff of laughter of your impression of him, one that ends in a gasp and has his hands flying to hold his side. Your own hands automatically cover his, as though you could make any difference to the pain he's in by pressing your palm against his knuckles. 

"I'm fine, don't worry. Just don't make me laugh again," he smiles reassuringly, but you can feel his fingers trembling under yours. 

"I'm banning that word as soon as we get back. The next time you use the word fine in my presence I'll-" you pause, not sure what your actual threat would be, and it earns you a lopsided grin. 

"You'll what?"

"I'll do something terrible you won't like," you finish lamely. "Now just sit still while I see what we can do about getting a distress signal out."

~

"Fuck," the curse stutters out quietly, and he tries to cover it with a cough, but you catch the word, and the grimace of pain he tries to mask. It sends a spark of worry through you. He shouldn't still be in this much pain, not after the amount of painkillers you've dosed him with over the past hour. 

His eyes catch yours in the dim emergency lighting and despite the pain, he still manages to give you a cheeky smile. "Caught you staring. Would you rather I put my shit…urgh…shirt back on?"

"You're in pain," is your flat response, no longer even taking any notice of his lack of clothing, "can I do anything to help?"

"You can kiss me?"

The data pad you'd been holding while checking for a rescue, clatters noisily to the floor as your hands forget to work, staring at him in shock. 

"What?"

"I said you can kiss me." He wheezes out a small laugh with a grimace of pain, evidently entertained by your reaction. With a huff, you pick up the data pad, brushing down your clothes in distraction.

"Why would I do that?" 

"Because it would distract me from the pain. It's my dying wish. You have to grant it."

"You are not dying. Don't talk like that," you frown at him, your stomach twisting as you look him over. He's too pale, and all too clearly trembling from the pain.  

"Feels a lot like dying." The absolute lack of humour in his words is what worries you the most. 

Kneeling down next to him, you press the back of your hand to his forehead, fear splintering through you at the burning heat that meets your skin. Glancing down at the wound, you can see blood still slowly seeping through the bandages and your stomach lurches at the sight, well aware he shouldn't still be bleeding this much. Carefully peeling down some of the bandages, you look over the wound, taking in the black threads creeping out under his skin from the cut. It's like nothing you've ever seen before - They run like dark veins, spider webbing out across his skin, spreading further with each passing moment. You have to carefully school your expression in order to not alarm him, but Poe is the most observant person you know, and he notices even the smallest stiffen of your shoulders. 

"It's not looking good, is it?" 

"No, it's not looking good," you admit quietly, noticing he doesn't even look down for himself. 

"You know, I always thought I'd go out in battle? Pulling some heroic stunt in my X-Wing?" He sighs, leaning back in the chair and staring at the darkness through the transparisteel pane, his breathing shallow and laboured. "At least it's still out here, in the stars."

"Poe, listen, you aren't dying here. I forbid it. I order you to make it home and live a long, happy life."

He smiles, rolling his head onto his shoulder and flicking his eyes to you. It's clear the effort of holding it up is becoming too much, which only makes your heart pound harder in fear.

"I'm your boss. You don't make orders," he tries to give you a teasing grin, but he only manages a grimace. 

"I'm staging a mutiny against you. So, now I'm the boss, and I'm ordering you not to die." You hope the words come out more firmly than they feel, desperate more to keep him talking than anything else. 

"I've never been good at following orders," his lips twitch in a small smile as beads of sweat break free from his forehead, rolling down over his cheeks like tears. "I'll try, though, just for you. Need a better offer tho- fuck!" he doubles over, taking a few short shaking breaths. 

Something was wrong. Something was so terribly wrong, and you have no idea what to do, how to help. You can feel tears pricking your eyes, helplessly pressing your hands over his.

Glancing down, your heart drops into your stomach as the SOS signal still pinging away on the datapad shows nothing, no incoming ships, no planets or moons, just the empty vastness of space and the quickly running out life support. 

Poe was going to die out here. And soon after you would too. How poetic to die with the man you fell for, before you ever had the courage to tell him. Far from romantic like in the holovids you only feel a bitter disappointment of time stolen from you, and the sharp tang of fear on your tongue.  

Poe goes quiet so suddenly that you think he's already gone, his eyes drifting shut, sweat dripping off him, his breathing barely there. Jumping into action, you grab his shoulders.

"Hey no, no, no sleeping. Stay awake, ok? Poe, stay awake," you desperately shake him until his eyes open a little, blinking blearily at you as though he can't see you properly. "I'll make you a better deal, ok? How about, you stay awake and make it home alive, and then I'll kiss you. I promise. But you gotta get home alive first," you warn him, reaching up to brush his damp curls away from his forehead.

Poe affords you a small, exhausted smile, his eyes half lidded and glazed. 

"I always liked you, you know? Bit disappointed…I won't…be able to…accept that…deal," his sentence is broken between gasped breaths and fear tightens painfully in your chest. 

You shush him softly, shaking your head. 

"You're going to be fine, ok? You're fine. You're always fine." Grabbing his hand, you hold it tightly in yours, feeling the tears you'd been holding back break free, rolling down your cheeks as you whisper.

Poe doesn't even attempt to squeeze your fingers, his hand stays limp in yours as you desperately bite back sobs of fear. "I promise I'll kiss you when we get back. I promise you can have anything you like. Just don't die on me, ok?"

"Don't cry…I'll…be fine," he chokes out. He lifts as hand, as though he would brush the tears from your cheeks but it never makes it that far up, it drops limp to his side as his eyes roll back in his head, his breathing stutters, and silence engulfs the ship. 

~

You sit back in your chair, stretching out your sore muscles, staring at the words on your report. They told you there was nothing you could have done. The blade had been tipped with poison and it was spreading fast through the pilot's veins, each beat of his heart pushed him closer to death. The medical training you had, the supplies on the ship, none of it was equipped to deal with something like that. No, you did everything you could. You couldn't have done anything more, or at least that's what they tell you. 

It had felt like days sitting in silence, Poe's hand growing colder in yours, the only noise the warning beep of the failing life support. No matter how hard you tried to wake him, he wouldn't even stir. Dizzy from the lack of oxygen, you'd laid your head against his thigh, squeezing his cold hand as you waited for your own demise. You were grateful for the dim lighting then. It meant you didn't have to look, you didn't have to see if his breathing had stopped.

The image of Poe motionless, his head lolling to one side, as they carried him onto the rescue ship, had haunted your dreams for weeks. He was no longer the effervescent pilot, no longer full of life, teasing and commanding. The last image you had of him was a broken doll, limp and lifeless. 

You can kiss me?

His words ring out so clear in the room it's almost as though he was standing beside you, with the playful smirk he always seems to have around you, dancing in his lips. 

Maker, you missed him. 

You'd gotten used to his presence in your life — the easy friendship and banter, the way he never made you feel like less, even though you're the least experienced pilot he's ever had in his squadron. You miss his laughter that happens at the most inappropriate times. You miss him distracting you on purpose when you're trying to concentrate. You even missed him being snappy and grumpy when he was tired. You missed him so much more than you could have imagined. 

With a sniff, you hastily wipe your eyes. It was no good dwelling on what already happened. 

"No point crying over spilt caf. Just get another cup," Poe would often tell you brightly when things went wrong. 

Taking a deep breath, you go back to the report, determined to finish it in the hopes that once it was done, you'd never have to think on that day again. That's the reason you'd come here, all the way at the edge of the base, to the abandoned part, filled with empty rooms full of dust, to finish this damn report in peace. But even as your fingers hover over the keys to start typing, a hesitant knock on the door stops you. 

With a groan of annoyance, you push the chair away from the desk, standing up on stiff legs that have been sitting too long and don't want to move. It’s a surprise that anyone has even come this far down the base, let alone appears to be purposely coming to find you. 

Pressing your hand to the door panel it slides open with a soft woosh, revealing a head of messy curls, an impish grin and a pilot who should, to your knowledge, still be laid up in medical recovering for at least another couple of weeks.

"Poe! You're out!"

"Yeah, I escaped my captors, and I'm on the run! So I probably don't have long before they drag me back. Did you miss me?" He grins in an all too familiar way, as though you haven't been separated for weeks. "I've been looking for you for ages. Why are you here? Nobody uses this room anymore. Meeting up with a secret lover?" He pokes his head into the small room you've been using to work in, confirming that it's empty, as though you might have been hiding someone inside.  

You blink in shock a few times, still surprised he's standing in front of you, when the nurses had exasperatedly told you for the tenth time, that his recovery would take at least a few more weeks. He didn't yet have his full strength, nothing had changed since yesterday and no you were absolutely not allowed to visit him. But the grinning man standing in the doorway, albeit a little less put together than he usually would be with his crumpled untucked shirt, tired eyes and messy hair, seems like he's perfectly fine. 

"So, what are you doing?" He asks again, raising an eyebrow when you fail to answer his questions. 

"Oh, I just needed somewhere quiet to finish some reports, you know, about what happened. And I guess I'm hiding a bit," you shrug, shuffling your feet, suddenly awkward in his presence after weeks of not being allowed to see him. "People keep asking me what happened, how you are, if I've seen you, blah blah. I swear, if I have to hear one more girl simper at the fact you got hurt, I might defect to the First Order just to save my sanity. How are you feeling?"

"Me? I'm fine, and I can't help being popular," he grins with an easy shrug. "Can you tell me who's been asking though? I'm hoping one person in particular might have been enquiring after me?"

You frown at him, trying to bury the spark of hurt at the comment. It isn't Poe's fault you have feelings he doesn't know about. But even so, your answer comes out snappier than you mean. 

"Go ask them yourself instead of bothering me."

Poe raises both eyebrows this time at your tone, but there's still a hint of a smile on his lips as he shrugs. 

"Alright, I will. In fact, I'll go ask them right now." He spins on his heel and walks two steps, barely giving you time to feel the stab of hurt in your chest, before he turns back around to face you. "Oh, hey, there you are! I just wanted to ask if you have been enquiring about me and my wellbeing since I almost died?"

"What are you doing?" You sigh with a shake of your head, your demeanour softening as he walks back to you. 

"Asking the only person on base I care about, at least in a ‘I’ve fallen head over heels for you’ sort of way, if they asked about me while I was recovering?"

You flounder, opening your mouth and closing it again as he grins. Heat floods through every inch of your skin, and you're sure your expression is one of absolute shock.

"No? And here I thought they were upset and worried about me. Frankly, I'm a bit offended now because they made me a promise. And you know, promises made on people's death beds you have to keep. It's the law." He stares at you seriously, his expression almost grave but it's not hard to see him fighting back a smile.

You have to fight to keep your breathing steady, your stomach plunging down to your feet at his words. Part of you had perhaps hoped that he hadn't heard you say that, that maybe he'd be too out of it by then to remember it, that maybe the trauma had wiped it from his mind. Or, at the very least, he would have taken it as a joke. Now you can't tell now if he's using it to tease you, or he's actually serious. 

"If I remember right," he pauses, tapping his chin with his index finger as he pretends to think, "I think you might have said I could have anything I wanted if we got home? Sound about right?" He raises an eyebrow at you as he watches you squirm in embarrassment. 

"I-I…well… it was a stressful situation…" you stutter, heat prickling out across your skin, "I just…wanted to make sure you got home…and…I-I just…you know, said stuff to keep you awake."

His expression softens as you trail off, gesturing wildly and trying to defend your words. 

"Oh, so you don't want to kiss me?" He tilts his head, regarding you standing frozen, still trying to process exactly what he's trying to tell you. "Listen, I'm an idiot. I should have told you this a long time ago. I know you like me. You're terrible at hiding it. But," he pauses with a sigh, running a hand through his hair, "I always thought you would make a move if it's what you wanted. But then out there, when you made that promise, I thought maybe… maybe you do want me as much as I want you?"

You could kiss me?

His words come back from the ship in stark clarity. You had assumed he was joking, trying to lighten the mood and tease you. But now you realise he was serious. He was asking for something he thought he couldn't ever have, because it was his last chance to do it.

A whole storm of emotions rise up quickly and overwhelmingly, the biggest being the regret that you hadn't listened, not truly listened. Not just that day on the ship, but always. The more you think about it, the more opportunities you know he's given you to say something, anything, about your feelings, and you'd let them pass by. 

Taking a deep breath, you meet his questioning gaze. 

"Well…I did promise you anything you wanted if you got home," you finally answer quietly. 

The pilot pauses for just a moment, swallowing almost nervously as though he had expected your rejection, before he nods solemnly, taking a step closer to you. Bringing his hand up to rest against the side of your neck, he rubs his thumb across your cheek before down to softly trace your bottom lip. 

"You did," he replies softly, as your breath catches at his touch.

"And it was your dying wish," you continue, your heart hammering against your ribs in anticipation.

"It was," he whispers, leaning into you and bringing his lips a breath away from yours, allowing his soft curls to brush against your forehead. The blood roars in your ears, deafeningly loud and you wonder if he can feel the heat currently blazing out across your skin. 

"And you're sure you're in your right mind?"

"I am," he answers, and you catch the flicker of a smile before he presses his lips to yours.

It's nothing like what you imagined kissing him to be like. He's sweetly tender — first the slightest brush of his lips against yours before placing gentle kisses to your top and bottom lip. Only when you relax — the tension you hadn't realised you were holding dropping from your shoulders — does he sweep his tongue across your lower lip, deepening the kiss. His tongue slides against your own, carefully slow, as though he has all the time in the world to map each part of your mouth. 

You can't help but allow a soft moan to escape as he kisses you, and your reaction seems to be the signal he needs, because he stops holding back. 

His arm wraps around your waist, pulling you close against him as his tongue battles yours with ravenous desire. Your hands tangle in his hair, kissing him back with as much desperate passion as he was giving you. 

The way he kisses you is all consuming, wiping away thoughts of anything else that exists in the galaxy. You hardly notice the way he backs you up into the room, without ever breaking your kiss. 

He doesn't pause until your legs hit the back of the desk. Only then does he pull away from you, taking your lower lip in his teeth and tugging gently. You let out a somewhat shaky breath, having only a moment to breathe before his mouth crashes into yours again, kissing you as though he's been starved of touch for years, not just a few weeks. 

When you eventually break apart, giddy with excitement and breathing heavily, he continues to steal quick kisses from you, keeping you pressed close against him.  

"Stars," he breathes softly, leaning his forehead against yours, as you bite your lip shyly, still trying to process the fact he kissed you, and like that. "Yeah, that was absolutely worth almost dying for."

"Yeah, maybe take out the near death experience next time though?" You laugh breathlessly, allowing your eyes to flicker closed as you enjoy the moment, trying to calm your heart to a normal speed again. Maker, there's no way you'll survive if he kisses you like that again.

"Do you mind if I sit down for a second?" He asks suddenly. Blinking yourself out of your kiss hazed daze, you notice how pale he's become, and you have a sudden stab of anxiety. It's a stark reminder that he's still not well and should be resting. 

"Yeah, come on."

He doesn't walk like he needs your help, but he allows you to support him as you lead him around the other side of the desk to sit down in the chair. "This is why you were supposed to stay in medical."

"I'm useless sitting there, though," he complains. "They won't let me have visitors, they won't let me do any work. Apparently I'm too likely to tire myself out if I leave. Like they know," he scoffs with a roll of his eyes.

That at least makes your frown soften just a little. Imagining Poe confined to a small corridor of rooms was difficult, given his chaotic nature. 

"You kiss a girl, and you go weak at the knees. I think maybe you should be listening to people who know better?"

"I think that was because I had to look everywhere for you while evading capture," He complains, giving you a pointed look as though it's your fault. "I can't be cooped up in there any longer. I'd rather spend as much time as I can with you until they track me down. I've sent BB to tell them I'll be back later anyway," he grins proudly at his own plan to evade medical care, making you roll your eyes. "Let me do something useful, please."

"Poe," you start gently, leaning back on the desk, but he knows what's coming and gives you a pleading look, making you stop your lecture and sigh. "Fine, just tell me honestly how you're feeling now?"

"Really I'm fi-" 

One glare from you stops him in his tracks. He gives you a small nod, remembering that the word is banned between you now.

"I feel like I could sleep for a month and still be tired," he sighs honestly, leaning back in the chair to stare at the ceiling, "I mean I feel like that all the time now. It's getting better but it's taking too long. I feel trapped. I need to be doing something to help. I can't just lie down all day and let everyone else do all the work."

His frustration is evident, and it makes your heart ache for him. You know this is Poe's worst nightmare, having to sit back and watch, unable to do anything to help. Pushing yourself off the desk, you instead stand between his legs, gently brushing your hands through his soft curls as he looks up at you. 

"You did almost die. You just gotta take it easy for a little while. You'll be back in your X-Wing flying circles around everyone in no time." Leaning over, you hug him tightly, feeling his arms slide around your waist as he buries his face in your neck. "They said you'll be better soon. Just be patient with them, they are doing their job."

He sighs softly, squeezing you hard before he lets you go. Sitting back down on the edge of the desk, you look him over as he talks, glad the colour seems to be returning to his cheeks. 

"I know. I'll go back later. But will you please let me stay for a couple of hours? I'll be fi-alright now, I promise. It just comes and goes when I overexert myself."

"Well then I guess kissing is off the cards for the rest of the day," you smile, and he gives you an unimpressed look. "Hey, you said you wanted to help. Kissing me is not helping anyone."

"It helps me," he grins. "Besides, I deserve them. I came bearing gifts!"

He fishes around in his jacket pockets, eventually slowly pulling out a length of material and placing it in your hands, his gaze hopeful and wide as you look it over. You run your fingers across the soft fabric, watching the lights catching the colour as it slips through your fingers.

"I bought this for you. It's your favourite colour, right? I know it doesn't replace the one I ruined, but still. It's a sort of thank you for saving my life. But you know if you don't like it…" he trails off, watching your expression. 

He knew your favourite colour. Your heart swells, and your fingers tighten in the scarf, stopping yourself from throwing your arms around him, purely from fear the sudden movement might hurt him. 

"I love it. It's honestly perfect. Thank you, Poe." Leaning over again you brush your lips sweetly against his as his eyes light up with relief. 

"Wish I could take credit for anything but the colour," he smiles sheepishly. "I had to send Karè out with instructions because they wouldn't let me leave medical."

You lean back against the desk as he stands up holding his hands out for the scarf.

"Can I?" 

Nodding, you hand it back to him, allowing him to carefully wrap it around your neck, his thumbs brushing softly against the edges of your jaw as he does. You wrap your arms around him as he leans into you, brushing his nose against yours, barely allowing his lips to ghost over yours, sweetly teasing you until you pout. With a soft laugh at your reaction he finally kisses you properly, with an intensity that makes your own knees go weak. 

By the time you pull away, you're breathless, and the room is far too warm once more. 

"If you keep kissing me like that, I'll end up in medical with you," you giggle before you pause, pulling back to look at him suspiciously. "Maybe I'm already in medical? This is just a really good dream, isn't it?"

Poe laughs softly and shakes his head.

"I really hope not, but if you do wake up, I'll kiss you again and remind you just how much I like you."

You roll your eyes and shake your head, "Ok being sweet is not going to stop me sending you back to bed."

He grins, knowing he's been caught out. 

"How about we make a new deal? I’ll sit here with you, and I'll be very good and quiet, and then when you’re done with your reports I'll go back to medical for the night?” He gives you a soft kiss, and you're sure its purely in distraction.

“I feel like there’s a but coming,” you raise an eyebrow at him, and there's a look of absolute mischief shining in his eyes. 

"But you have to sit on my lap,”

Maker, he was going to be a nightmare this entire recovery.

----------

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Taglist reblog to follow

#comment reblog #poe dameron x reader

[the-little-ewok]

Oscar Isaac

Moon Knight Blooper Reel

#oscar isaac #moon knight

[the-little-ewok]

Scenes from a marriage: The curious incident of the bug in the night time

Moon Knight Blooper Reel

#marriage is just finding someone you want to annoy for all time #oscar isaac #moon knight

[the-little-ewok]

Oscar Isaac

Moon Knight Blooper Reel

#oscar isaac #moon knight #why is he so cute? 😂😂

[the-little-ewok]

Thank you for the reblog! I'm glad you enjoyed 😏

Entrée

Marc Spector X F!Reader / Steven Grant X F!Reader

Rating : E / 18+ 

Word count : 1650 (ish)

Warnings : Explicit, Soft Dom!Marc, lil bit dirty talk, PIV, unprotected sex, established relationship, F!oral receiving, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, cum eating 

Prompts/Summary : Smut prompts : "If you insist", "Make me", "Tell me how you like it." / Teasing Marc while making dinner gets you more than you bargained for. 

A/N : If you like this fic please don't just hit the like button. Hit the reblog button and tell me your thoughts! Support your content creators with reblogs! 

"Tell me how you like it, Spector," you tease in your most sultry tone, winking as you gesture to the spices you have picked out on the side.

"Will you please behave for just five minutes?" Marc scolds, rolling his eyes as you laugh.

You'd been teasing for a while now, wondering how much it would take to break his patience. Which it turned out, was quite a lot. But you know the last hour you've been getting to him. The pace of his breathing has changed, his temper is shorter, his eyes are darker.

You turn to fully face him, giving him the challenge you hope will break him.

"Make me."

There's a long quiet silence at first, where Marc puts down the knife he's been using to prepare vegetables, wipes his hands and takes a deep breath. For a split second you think you might have pissed him off, but then his eyes flicker up and down your body as he licks his lips, raising an eyebrow in question.

"Well, if you insist."

You turn to run, not wanting to give in so easily, but Marc is quicker. His arms are around your waist, pulling you back, pinning you against the counter before you've fully finished the thought of making him chase you through the apartment.

"We're supposed to be making dinner," you remind him with a victorious grin, as he presses his body against yours, pinning you in place.

"You started it. I'm ending it." He doesn't give you a chance to defend any of your actions, before he kisses you, hard.

Marc doesn't do things by half. He's all or nothing. And right now, when he kisses you, it's all. He consumes you, his tongue hot and slick in your mouth, his hands gripping your hips, fingers digging in, his body pressing yours into the edge of the counter, leaving no space between you.

You take it, everything he offers you. You sink into his kiss, your fingers tangling in his hair, tugging gently to pull the softest of moans, your body compliant to his wishes, moulding yourself to fit against him.

When he finally breaks away you're breathless, dizzy, hot, and wanting nothing more than to drag his mouth back to yours.

"Take it all off," he commands, tugging at your top before standing back to give you some space.

You open your mouth to tell him to do it for you, to challenge him, but there's a look in his eyes that makes your pussy clench in anticipation.

Leaning over you switch the oven off. Marc laughs softly with a nod.

"Good plan."

"Lucky you got a girl with a brain still in her head," you wink at him, watching him give an affectionate sigh.

"Clothes. Off," he repeats, taking a step of warning towards you. Disobeying his instructions probably wouldn't work in your favour, and for a moment you think of all the delicious ways he might make you pay for it, but that was for another day. You could only wind him up so much, and right now, he's probably had just about enough.

With a smirk, you lift your top over your head, throwing it to the floor. Your bra and pants follow suit.

You slide your panties down slowly, making him wait, slowly removing each leg, before standing with them dangling from one finger. You raise an eyebrow at him and lick your lips.

"This how you like i-," you cut off with a squeak of surprise as he suddenly spins you, taking both your hands and pressing them down against the counter stepping up close behind, pinning you in place.

It sets an unspoken rule. Don't move.

"Think you're clever teasing me all evening?" He asks, his warm hands releasing yours tocaress your ribs, running his palms down your sides, slowly, sensually, mapping you out before he delivers a surprising slap to your ass. It doesn't hurt, but you yelp anyway.

"Can't say you're making me regret it yet," you half sigh, with a cheeky grin, as he presses his lips against your neck. Marc lets out a dangerous laugh, his breath fanning out against your skin.

He only replies with one word.

"Yet."

~

It's been hours, you're sure. How many times has he brought you to the edge — with his fingers, his mouth, his cock — only to stop right before the drop? Too many times.

"Tell me how you like it," Marc growls in your ear, pressing you against the counter, his cock twitching inside you.

You whimper in response. Your body is slick with sweat, the effort of just staying on your feet making your legs tremble. He's held you here, right on the precipice for so long, his questions aren't registering in your hazy brain any longer.

"Tell me," He rolls his hips once more, slow and deep.

"Marc!" You whine, throwing your head back onto his shoulder. He can't possibly think you can formulate a coherent response in this state. All you can think about is the throbbing ache of need in your cunt, the way his cock is stretching your walls, and the warmth of his palm as he squeezes your breast.

"I want you to tell me how you want it, baby." His tone is softer this time, taking a different approach, trying to draw it out of you. "I want to hear you say it. Tell me what you need, how you like it."

You realise he's not going to give up. The only way he'll allow you to cum, is to answer.

"I like it when you fuck me," you slur, trying to remember how to talk.

"I'm already doing that." He gives a breathless laugh at your gasp when he gives a slow roll of his hips, pressing his cock up against that blissful spot inside you, the one that he's too damn good at finding. "You know that's not what I asked."

Marc chooses the exact moment you open your mouth, to give another devastatingly slow roll of his hips, making you choke on your words.

"I can do this all night," he mumbles, stilling again and bringing his mouth to your shoulder, sucking a mark there to join the others already littering your body.

You answer with the only thing you can currently think about.

"Like it when you make me cum," you finally manage to pant out.

Surprisingly, Marc lets out a soft chuckle, leaning his head against your shoulder, bringing a smile to your lips.

"Well, you asked what I liked," you mumble, somewhat shy now about your answer, as it clearly wasn't the one he was expecting.

"I did, and since you answered so sweetly..."

He draws back his hips, until only the tip of his cock remains inside you, before thrusting back in, deep and hard, setting a punishing pace.

You cry out in pleasure, falling forward onto your elbows, thankful for the counter supporting your weight.

"That's it, baby. Taking it so good. This what you needed?" He growls, low and deep in your ear over the sound of flesh on flesh filling the kitchen.

"Yes! Please Marc. Please!" You beg hopelessly, your body taunt and trembling, practically sobbing with pleasure.

It's difficult from your position, but you just about manage to wedge your arm between your body and the counter, pressing your fingers against your neglected clit. Marc's hands are busy, his fingers digging into your hips as he holds you steady for each deep thrust.

The touch is all you need to go hurtling over the edge, his name a broken mantra on your lips, your back arching against him, your cunt clamping down, riding out your high in thunderous waves.

Your vision goes white, your body stiffens then goes limp, and you're pretty sure the only thing holding you up through it all is Marc's body pressed tightly against yours. Nothing else exists in the world except the two of you and the overwhelming pleasure.

It takes a long moment to come down from your high, but when you are able to manage coherent thoughts again you realise Marc's cock is still hard, buried and throbbing inside your still pulsing cunt.

He seems to have some sixth sense as to what you're thinking as he leans in, licking a warm trail up your neck as you move your hand back to the counter, trying to support your weight as your legs threaten to give up.

He leans in close, his breath ghosting across your ear, "I hope you don't think we are done yet, baby? That was just the starter."

~

Marc draws it out as long as possible, denying his own release until he can't hold back any longer. He finally gives in, letting out a broken moan as he spills inside you in long, slow thrusts, before he half collapses against your back.

As his breathing slows and evens, he brushes his nose against your back, up between your shoulder blades before he nuzzles your neck sweetly.

"Beautiful," whispers a soft British accent.

"Steven?" You smile, still a little giddy from your… well you don't know how many 'nth orgasms.

Steven hums in answer, his fingers trailing lightly across your ribs, and down to press his fingers to the mess between your legs.

You gasp as he brushes your sensitive clit, bucking your hips against his hand.

"You've made quite the mess," he comments, running his fingers across your slick cunt. "I didn't realise what Marc meant at first when he said I could pick dessert, but I think I understand now."

"Dessert?" You sigh, still on the way down from your recent high, confused when Steven pulls out and away from you.

"Stay there, darling." He instructs gently.

Out of the corner of your eye, you see him kneel down on the kitchen floor, taking one of your thighs in each of his hands. You frown, twisting slightly to look at him

"Wha-ohhh!" Your entire body trembles as he buried his head between your legs, his tongue flicking out to taste your soaked folds.

He groans as though tasting a gourmet meal.

"Can you go again, love? Give us one more?"

Your body is exhausted, your head in the clouds, thoughts fuzzy and unclear, your muscles ache, the counter digs into your thighs, Steven's fingers against your skin are too much, the dinner spoiling.

"Yes. Yes, Steven."

~

Dinner ends up in the bin, Marc orders take out, then Steven runs you a bath. You offhandedly remark that you still don't have any regrets about teasing them.

Marc promises the night is still young.

-----------------

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#comment reblog #marc spector x reader

[the-little-ewok]

An Unorthodox Method

Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Rating : 18+/E

Word count : 7600 (ish)

Warnings : It's the one bed trope!, Lil mild angst, lots of teasing, Poe being an adorable little shit, mentions of Poe having hearing problems/being partially deaf in one ear, fluff, banter, SMUT, PIV, fingering, marking (love bites and nail marks), praise kink if you squint, illusions to cum eating, mentions of oral f- receiving, overstimulation if you blink, aftercare, very brief mention of casual sex/one night stands.

Summary : All you want is a hot shower, some clean dry clothes, and to crawl into bed. What you absolutely do not want is Poe Dameron in that bed with you.

@campingwiththecharmings thank you so much for this request! I'm so excited to finally do the one bed trope for Poe! I hope you like it.

Special thank you to @mandinlore for the beta 😘

~~~~~~~~~

The rain hammers a steady ping ping ping on the window as you and Poe stand in the doorway to the room, your clothes soaked and sticking uncomfortably to your skin, your shoes leaving puddles of water.

"You have got to be kidding me!" You groan as Poe laughs.

You had been looking forward to a hot shower, a nice warm bed, and at least a good few hours of peace and quiet. The last part had already been thwarted by the fact some error in the hotel booking meant you only had one room with no others available, and now to add insult to injury there was only one damn bed.

"Well, this is going to be fun!" The pilot chirps happily from beside you, walking in to dump his bag on the chair and leaving wet boot prints in his wake.

Climbing into bed with the resistance's best looking pilot, who you were, if you were honest, a little bit in love with, did not constitute as fun. In fact, after the day you had spent with him, it was the very last thing you wanted to do.

Poe was always, and had always, been chatty, but today he seemed to have turned all his dials up to maximum. He'd talked non stop, made unfunny jokes, inappropriate innuendos that with anyone else you suspect he wouldn't have gotten away with, and done just about anything he could to make himself the most annoying person this side of the galaxy.

For what reason, you had no idea. You had started to suspect perhaps he had realised your warm feelings towards him, and maybe this was his way of making you hate him so he didn't have to let you down, and honestly, you might think it was starting to work.

Trudging into the room, your boots squelching with each step, you place your bags down, resigned to your probably sleepless fate.

"You want the bathroom first?" The pilot offers, despite the fact he's worse off than you, having given you his jacket to hold above your head the moment the downpour started. It hadn't helped much after the first few minutes, but you had been grateful for the shelter anyway.

You don't really register his question, your thoughts lost as you finger the worn leather coat remembering the way his scent clung to it, invading your senses as you splashed through the flooded streets.

"Hey," you look up to find the pilot watching you, his brow furrowed. "You okay?"

You drop the jacket onto the dresser, giving him a smile and a nod.

"Just sick of listening to you."

Poe snorts with laughter, grabbing the hem of his shirt and peeling it up over his head. You purposely busy yourself pulling out some dry clothes from your pack , not allowing yourself to peek, although it's a difficult battle.

"There's nobody you love listening to more than me," Poe states, thankfully not seeming to notice your internal fight of keeping your eyes off him.

You sigh, somewhat thankful his annoying cockyness is a distraction from his semi-nakedness. Picking up your sleepwear and wash bag you head towards the bathroom, trying to ignore him. Poe however gives you no quarter, trailing along behind you.

"So what exactly are the sleeping arrangements going to be?" He asks.

Frowning you turn around, your eyes deciding to flicker over his bared torso before meeting his gaze. Even the smallest glance is enough to get blood rushing through your veins, and you can feel heat blossoming across your cheeks.

Ignoring the feeling you gesture to the bed with a raise of your eyebrow.

"But what if you snore?" The pilot asks, clearly not noticing your desire to leave the room until he's decided to put some clothes on.

You pull a face, not quite understanding his issue when he's half deaf from the war anyway. The explosion that had damaged most of the resistance ships had permanently damaged his eardrums, which Poe liked to use to his advantage when he decided he wasn't going to listen to someone, although you think he hears far more than he lets on.

"Poe, you can hardly hear out of one ear as it is! Just sleep on your good ear and you probably won't hear a thing out of the other one."

He folds his arms stubbornly. "I'll hear if you're right next to my head."

"Then you are more than welcome to sleep in the bathroom once I'm done," you offer, stepping into the tiny fresher.

"Nah, I'd rather sleep in the bed. But what if you steal the covers?"

"Then you can take them back."

"What if you cuddle me in your sleep?" He fires quickly.

You give him a withering look, trying not to think about pressing your body against his, keeping your eyes trained on his face.

"Oh trust me Poe, I won't." In fact you will do everything possible not to touch him, just for your own sanity.

"But you might. I'm very into consent and if I'm asleep-" he pauses mid sentence, opening his mouth and then closing it again before leaning against the door frame. "Actually scratch all of that. I absolutely give you consent to do whatever you like to me."

The pilot grins at you and you feel a familiar surge of heat through your body, collecting and coiling in your abdomen. Combined with your patience finally snapping, it's the last straw. You slam the bathroom door in his handsome smug face.

The lukewarm shower really tops off the day.

~

"I've been thinking" Poe starts the moment he exits the bathroom, after loudly complaining through the door about you using up all the hot water.

You pinch the bridge of your nose with a sigh, the hope that he would have calmed down and go straight to sleep evaporating. You are grateful however that he's at least finally put a shirt on.

"That must hurt."

"Oi!" He protests with a shocked expression, that at least brings a little smile to your lips. He grins at you, letting you know he took no offence at your words.

"As I was saying," he continues while you lay out his clothes to dry, the ones he dumped in a wet pile in the middle of the floor. "I've been thinking, and I know what's wrong with you. I want you to know it's okay."

The way his voice suddenly goes so gentle makes you look around. The pilot holds out his hand, wrapping his fingers around yours as he pulls you closer, holding your gaze steadily. You hope he doesn't notice the way your breath catches, or the heat blazing through you that makes your hands clammy.

"It's okay to be nervous," he continues, while your mouth goes dry. "I know spending the night with me is a lot, and it's going to be so difficult for you to keep your hands to yourself, but we are going to get through this together, and you'll be able to tell everyone about it when we get home."

You snatch your hand angrily out of his while the pilot bursts into laughter.

"Grow up and get in the damn bed!" You growl, climbing into bed, pulling the covers up to your chin and turning over away from him, your heart thundering in your chest. How, even when he was joking, did he manage to get so damn close to the truth?

"Why do you want me in bed so badly, huh? Thinking about late night cuddles?" You hear the pilot ask, feeling the mattress sink with his weight.

"No. When you're asleep, you're not talking," you bite out, still stinging from the embarrassment of your reaction when he was just being his usual annoying self.

Poe ignores your hostility and you feel him shrug.

"Listen, all I'm trying to do is tell you that we could eliminate some of this sexual tension. Well, if you wanted to."

Sexual tension wasn't exactly what you would say was between you, but there was always certainly something, although with Poe you imagine he had that with everyone. With you though, your feelings for the pilot ran a little deeper, not that you'd ever dare speak those aloud. The last thing you needed was the "it's not you, it's me" speech, especially if his behaviour was to drive you away. Best to let sleeping dogs lie.

You run a hand down your face with an exasperated sigh. "There is absolutely no sexual tension, Poe. What there is, is murderous tension."

Poe lets out an exclamation of excitement.

"Oh my favourite kind!"

You bite the inside of your cheek to stop a smile, lest you encourage him to continue.

"Please Poe, go to damn sleep," you whine, pulling the pillow from under your head and pressing it against your ear, trying to block out his incessant rambling.

"I will if you admit it."

"Admit what?" You groan, frustrated. Why can't he just shut the hell up and let you get through this?

"That you've thought about us."

"Poe I swear-" you take a deep breath, grabbing the cushion with one hand, rolling over with the intent on smothering him into silence. You're surprised to find the pilot on his side, almost nose to nose with you in the small bed.

"You've seriously never thought about us kissing?" Poe interrupts.

"I…I…" you’re thrown by his closeness, by his long lashes and soft smile, by the damn doe eyed look he's giving you.

You know there's no shutting him up until you tell him what he wants to hear so you take a breath. It wouldn't exactly be news to him, Poe knew just about everyone had considered kissing him at some point or another. The man did come with a reputation for having a rather skillful mouth after all.

"Fine! Maybe once or twice. Now go to damn sleep!" You growl, annoyed at him, and yourself.

The shit eating grin he gives you is enough to make you turn back over, tucking the pillow under your head and shutting your eyes tightly, as though that alone might drown him out.

"I knew it," he gloats with a happy sigh, clicking off the bedside lamp.

You grip the pillow, considering the option you still have of smothering him.

Thankfully he's quiet from that point and infuriatingly asleep in less than five minutes. You can feel the mattress move with his slow steady breaths.

Glancing over your shoulder he's laid out on his back, one arm tucked under his head, his lashes fluttering against his cheeks as he dreams, his full lips open with a soft sigh.

Turning around again you punch the lumpy pillow, trying to get more comfortable.

You will not think about kissing him. That was a one time thing. Okay, maybe three or four. Well maybe more… a lot more. You're determined tonight for once, you will not fall asleep thinking about his mouth on yours, you will absolutely not think about his lips on your skin, or his fingers caressing your breasts…

Someone suddenly shakes you and you open your eyes groggily, the room swimming and blurred as you blink sleep from your vision.

"What the hell?" You grumble, looking up at the pilot with his sleep tousled curls, still half asleep himself, one eye still shut and the other half open, bathed in the soft moonlight glow that sneaks through the blinds.

"You said my name," he mumbles, voice still sleep gravelled. "You alright?"

Flashes of his mouth sealed over your nipple, his tongue darting out to lick a path down to your navel, your hand gripping his hair, his mouth between your thighs.

Oh no. You absolutely did not have a sex dream about him. Not now, not here. Please no!

"You must have dreamt it," you swallow, desperately trying to play it cool. If Poe heard you while he was dead asleep, then you must have been loud. You feel the heat prickling the back of your neck.

"No, I definitely heard you say Poe," he insists.

"Well even if I did I'm fine so you can go back to sleep," you insist, shifting your legs restlessly. You're too warm. Well not just warm, burning hot, sweat cooling on your skin, an uncomfortable ache between your legs that screams of unsatisfied desire.

"You sure? You sounded a bit…breathless?" The pilot asks again, genuine concern in his tone. Although you can barely see him in the dim lighting you can still see the frown pulling his brows together, both eyes now open and studying you. You really don't want him to press any further. Even his voice brings back flashes of the dream, sultry whispers in your ear, his tongue lapping at your folds, the cry of his name from your mouth.

You swallow again, pushing the thoughts away.

"Really, I'm fine. Must have been a nightmare if it involved you anyway."

"Ouch." He holds his hands over his chest, collapsing back onto the mattress as though you wounded him, giving a long drawn out dramatic death rattle.

Pulling up the covers you throw them over his head with a laugh.

"Go back to sleep, Flyboy."

Laying back you shuffle as close to the edge as you can, putting as much distance as possible between you and the pilot. You wonder if it would be better for you to stay awake, just in case your dreams come back to haunt you. You absolutely wouldn't get away with saying his name a second time.

"It's okay you know," Poe speaks suddenly into the darkness as you lay rigid beside him. "If you were dreaming about me. I wouldn't mind."

You can't help but snort with laughter at that.

"You wouldn't mind if anyone dreams about you."

"True," Poe admits. You feel him shift and even though you can't see him, your eyes staring up at the ceiling, his gaze burns you.

"Let me rephrase. I'd like it if you dreamt about me." He continues.

When you don't turn to face him or grace him with an answer, you feel the shift of the mattress again as he lays back.

"I'm sorry," he sighs, and for once it sounds genuine, not a hint of playfulness in his tone. "I thought this would cheer you up. It's been a long week and you've just seemed so… I don't know. Not yourself, like you're bottling everything up. I figured maybe if you were thinking about how annoying I was, or making you laugh and fight with me, it would give you a bit of a distraction and an outlet, but I get it, maybe I took it too far, even if it is the truth."

It had been a long week, the longest in fact. While the mission itself had been a success, you had seen a lot of the First Order's destruction in the process, and it was worse than either of you had realised. You'd felt melancholy for days, the sights you've witnessed replaying in your mind. You hadn't noticed it much at the time, too lost in your own thoughts and angry that he was so loud that it was impossible to hear yourself think, but the more you think about it, the more you realise what he's been doing — trying to make you smile, keeping you distracted, making you focus on anything but what's happened. All you've done is complain to him about it.

Guilt twists hard in your stomach.

How typical of Poe to try and be helpful in the most unconventional way.

Part of you wants to reach for him, to cuddle him tight against you and thank him, to tell him you're here for him too if he needs someone. The other part keeps you rigidly pinned to the mattress, afraid to move in case so much as a finger brushes up against him, unsure if you can hold yourself back with the lingering memory of the dream.

"You mean the truth is that you really are worried I snore?" You ask, trying to break the unbearable tension.

His answer is the most serious he's sounded all day. There isn't a trace of humour, of teasing, just a tiredness, the kind that comes from pretending to smile all day, the kind that signals a surrender.

"No, I could live with that. I mean the dreaming part. I'd like it if you dreamt about me."

"Oh." You can't find anything else to say to that, your heart hammering so loudly in your chest you're sure even through his damaged ear he can hear it.

The ongoing silence suddenly feels heavy, like a crushing weight on your chest, the truth feels like lead in your belly. Poe hasn't made a single noise in a while but you get the distinct feeling he isn't asleep. You wonder if he's laying still too, muddling through his thoughts.

You can't take back your behaviour towards him but you can at least give him something in return.

"Poe?"

The response is instant, "Yeah?"

You take a breath, swallowing hard, your fingers twisting into the sheet at the edge of the bed, nervously gripping them.

"Every day," you whisper quietly.

"Huh?"

You feel a slight shift as he must turn to look at you.

You clear your throat, staring hard enough at the ceiling that your eyes start to burn, repeating yourself louder.

"I said every day. I lied earlier. It's not once or twice. I think about kissing you every day. I have for a while," you admit.

A sudden blinding light obscures your vision, making you cry out in surprise and squeeze your eyes shut against the sudden intrusion. Coloured lights flash behind your eyelids and you have to blink a few times in order to see anything.

When the room comes back into focus Poe is sitting bolt upright in the bed, staring down at you, the bedside lamp illuminating his head like a synthetic halo.

"You were dreaming about me!"

With a groan you grab the pillow and hold it over your own face, deciding if you can't smother him you could just smother yourself instead, which seems like the better option than actually having this conversation.

You feel the pillow tug back gently, but you hold fast, refusing to give it up.

"Come on, let go and talk to me. You've said it now." A grunt of effort and a hard tug on the pillow before Poe sighs. "I'm not going away so you're either going to suffocate or talk."

"Then I'll suffocate," you mumble into the pillow, already regretting saying anything.

"You know I can't hear you right? Come on." This time he tucks his fingers under yours and peels them off the pillow cover until it falls halfway off your face.

"Better," he smiles, letting go of your hands to remove it entirely. "Why are you hiding from me?"

"I don't want to see your smug smile about how right you are," you glare, trying to hide your embarrassment that you've blurted out exactly what you've been trying to conceal from him. Once more, Poe takes your attitude in his stride.

"I've thought about kissing you too, you know? In fact I've thought about kissing you at least four times since you woke me up." He gives a shrug, like you should know that, like it's completely utterly normal for someone to think about kissing you that many times in the space of ten minutes.

You bite your lip, familiar tendrils of desire reigniting in your belly. Your body, still clearly on edge from your illicit dream, thrums with tension.

"So why haven't you done it yet?"

Poe rolls his eyes, as though the answer is obvious. "Clearly I'm building up the sexual tension for it!"

You're done letting him have the upper hand in this. In a surge of confidence, and to stop the smug look on his face, you wrap your hand around the back of the pilot's neck, before you pull his lips to yours. You feel Poe's brief smile, probably of victory, against your mouth before he kisses you back.

It's soft at first, almost sweet tender kisses, short and playful, getting to know each other. He kisses your top and bottom lip, he gives you tiny pecks of affection, he licks playfully at your bottom lip.

Effortlessly he shifts his weight over you, slotting himself between your thighs as though you were made to fit together. His tongue licks into your mouth, slick and hot, sliding against your own as he presses his body against yours, your kisses descending into something much more passionate.

Maker, the rumours weren't wrong. He is good at this, better than good actually, infuriatingly good. You can't even find any fault to tease him about.

You tangle your fingers in his curls, tugging gently and causing the pilot to moan into your mouth. You give a shiver of desire at the sound, your mind filled with thoughts of how you can draw it from him in other ways. Poe's mind seems to be on a similar track, his hips grinding against yours, pressing himself against your core and causing you to let out a gasp of surprise at the jolt of pleasure.

Perhaps there was a little sexual tension after all.

The pilot pulls away, his chest heaving, eyes dark and lips kiss swollen, his curls messy and tousled from your fingers.

"Fuck, sorry. I didn't mean to get carried away so quickly," he apologises, swallowing hard as he clearly tries to get a handle on himself, holding his body off yours, allowing a brief respite for you both to collect yourselves.

"I don't mind getting carried away," you admit, still feeling feverish with his closeness, your mind filled with the fantasy of your dreams. You raise your hips, pressing up against his clothed length, making the pilot let out a choked moan of surprise before his eyes darken.

"Well in that case," he grins, recovering all too quickly. Desire coils in your belly and before you can drag his mouth back to yours, in true Poe fashion, he continues talking. "Why don't you tell me what I was doing in this dream of yours?"

You give him a coy smile. As if he's going to get it out of you that easily.

"Fulfilling my deepest fantasy," you answer as Poe licks his lips, eagerly leaning forward to listen.

"Oh yeah? What fantasy might that be?"

"You were quiet for a whole five minutes," you sigh dreamily. It takes a second to register with him before he leans back bursting out laughing. You can't help but start to giggle yourself.

"Okay, I deserved that!" He laughs. "My methods may be unorthodox, but they work!"

He was entirely correct in that him being his usual annoying self was exactly what you had needed as a distraction, although you're sure there were less annoying ways to achieve the same means.

"I don't know. I actually considered murdering you at least a few times. Maybe I still will, when you're fast asleep and least expecting it," you warn, running a finger along your throat in a playful threat.

Poe hums, leaning back down over you, caging you to the bed with his arms.

"What exactly makes you think either of us will be going back to sleep?"

Oh.

There's another rush of heat that tingles against your skin, shooting straight down to your aching core. It's not at all helped by the fact Poe leans down to capture your lips, his tongue slipping between your teeth as he moves one hand to grip your hip, sliding it slowly up your body and under your shirt to trail his fingers across your breast.

You moan into his mouth as he rolls your peaked nipple between his fingers, grinding yourself up against him, uncaring of whatever commentary he wants to make as long as you can deal with this rapidly intensifying desire.

When he finally pulls away once more it's hard to get your breath, especially as he continues to steal little kisses from you, his fingers still resting against your skin.

Bracing himself on one arm above you, the other slides down to tiptoe over your hip.

"Do I have your consent to remove these ugly pants?" He grins teasingly, pulling at the waistband of your shorts. They had seen better days in all fairness but you hadn't really considered anyone else seeing them.

"Hey, they aren't that bad! Not like you're the pinnacle of fashion." In retaliation you poke your finger through a hole in the leg of his threadbare sleep pants, making the pilot laugh.

"These are my lucky pants."

You can't help but snort with a roll of your eyes. "That's the stupidest thing I've heard."

Poe raises one eyebrow, a smug smile tugging at his lips.

"They got you into my bed didn't they?"

You scoff, "The hotel management got me into this bed."

"You know what, you're right. Maybe I should go thank them now," Poe muses, his grin turning into a laugh as you wrap your arms around him, preventing him from leaving.

"Will you please just stop talking?" You laugh, wondering how much of the night is even left. You swear if the sun rises and you haven't resolved this, you will combust of need, and you will take the pilot out with you.

Poe raises his eyebrows.

"Well, I would, but you still haven't answered my original question."

You stare at him, trying to figure out what exactly he's talking about before you realise.

"For the love of… Yes Poe, I give you consent to do whatever you want to me as long as you stop dragging this out like a massive tease!"

The pilot lets out a soft chuckle, leaning down to brush his nose against yours, a soft gesture in a stark contrast to what leaves his mouth, "dangerous words, sweetheart."

You almost shudder with the flash of desire that bolts through you, making sharp heat rush across your skin and your pussy clench.

"I need you to make me a promise first though," his fingers slip across your abdomen, resting just above the waistband of your pants. The feverish desire at his touch is overshadowed by annoyance that he's still talking. Maker, you swear he won't survive till sunrise.

"Po-

"I'm going to need you to be loud," he purrs in your ear, cutting you off as his hand slips under your waistband. "I don't want to miss a single noise you make."

Even if you wanted to be quiet, the pad of his finger slipping across your clit causes your body to react in a primal way, letting out an embarrassing loud moan for such a little touch.

Poe chuckles.

"Just like that." He praises, sliding his finger down further to dip into your entrance, letting out a soft groan of his own at how wet you are, before he drags it back up, spreading your slick over your aching clit and making you whine again. "Can you do that for me? Can you be loud enough?"

The best you can muster is a whimper as he slowly thrusts his finger knuckle deep into you.

"Nu-huh," Poe chides, "loud."

A second finger quickly joins the first, stretching your walls and filling you more than your own ever could. This time you arch your back off the bed, chasing the blissful feeling as a much louder groan tears itself from your throat.

"Better," Poe grins. "I heard that one."

You want to smother him, you want to kiss him, but most of all, despite his annoying little smug smile, you still desperately want to fuck him.

You decide on option two, at least for the moment, pulling his lips down to yours.

His tongue licks into your mouth as he thrusts his fingers inside you at a leisurely pace, swallowing each whine and moan you give at the pleasure skittering and coiling in you.

Poe curls his fingers, pressing up against that spot inside you, making you pull away from his kiss to throw your head back in pleasure, a loud groan of his name escaping. You're half expecting him to make some sort of cocky comment, but Poe seems as lost in this as you are. He drops his head to press open mouthed kisses across your neck, biting and sucking, marking and claiming you as his.

When he works a third finger into you, his thumb brushing against your clit, you come undone. Normally you would feel embarrassed about how loud you are, the way your body shudders and heaves, your pussy clenching hard around his fingers, but the shaky little fuck Poe groans in your ear, obliterates any notion of embarrassment.

As you come down from your high, your body still trembling from the aftershock, whining as he slips his fingers from you, you realise he's breathing almost as heavily as you are, his breath coming out in short pants as he looks you over.

"I need to fuck you," he growls, clearly struggling with his own needs.

You're already nodding before he gets halfway through his request. Whatever he needs, whatever he wants, you'll give it to him without hesitation.

He all but tears your pyjamas from you, making short work of removing them and throwing them across the room, before his join the unceremonious pile on the floor.

This time you allow yourself to look, you allow yourself to take in his broad chest, the little scars crisscrossed with a larger one, old and new, your gaze trailing down across his abdomen to the line of hair that guides your eyes down to -

"Are you done admiring?" Poe's amused tone makes your eyes snap back up to his, your face growing warm with embarrassment that you've been caught staring, although you know he has probably done exactly the same to you.

"I don't know about admiring," you shrug as though your pussy isn't pulsing at the thought of him burying his cock deep inside you. "Think the resistance needs to re-evaluate their best looking pilot status."

Poe simply grins at you, seeing through your nonchalance all too clearly.

"Good to know you like what you see. Tell me, how wet did it make you to see me earlier, all soaked and shirtless?"

"Didn't," is all you are able to punch out as he leans down, pressing his body against yours, rolling his hips just slightly so his hard cock brushes against your slick folds, holding himself at your entrance like the tease he is.

"Really?" He smirks, "Somehow I think you are lying. But alright, I'll get the truth out of you, one way or another." The threat gives you a rush of excitement, wondering exactly how he's going to do that. Not that you're going to let him know that so easily.

"Are you going to keep talking or are we going to-" your question cuts off into a gasp of pleasure as he presses himself inside you, slowly, so you can feel every vein and ridge as he stretches your walls.

"Are we going to what?" He grins.

You slap his arm in reply but there's no power behind it, you're too busy concentrating on the wet noise as he pulls out of you before slowly pressing back in, making you whimper in need. The first time your pussy clenches around him it's involuntary, the second time it's just to enjoy the little groan the action draws from the pilot.

"Stop," he warns, his head dropping to your shoulder, clearly trying to steady his breathing as you clench around him a third time, just for fun. "Taking it slow."

"You don't have to take it slow," you assure him. For a moment you think it's sweet he's considering your comfort but you're more than ready for this.

"I want to," he grits as you clench around him again. The tone of his voice lets you know he's digging his stubborn heels in and nothing will change his mind. Even so you need more than he's offering. This has gone on too long, the tension is too much, the need drumming through your veins screams to be sated.

You whine, you beg, you plead, you drag your nails along his back and arch your hips against him, but he doesn't give. He rocks into you slowly, achingly slowly, maddeningly slowly, and for all your initial protests you enjoy every second of it.

The pleasure builds just as slow, each roll of his hips winding the cord tighter and tighter until you're sure you can't take any more, and then it pulls further. You can't do anything but surrender to the bliss it offers, raising your hips to meet his in the hopes his resolve will eventually break.

"You're incredible you know?" He pants against your mouth, sweat beading at his hairline, his curls sticking to his forehead, his eyes hooded and glazed. "Not just at this, but this too."

All you can do is stare at him, somewhat dazed, wondering how he's even thinking in coherent sentences right now, let alone speaking them. Somewhere your subconscious registers his words and it accompanies a host of butterflies in your belly.

"Just you, exactly as you are. You are incredible," he repeats, only this time it comes with a much harder thrust. You arch against him, your fingers digging into his shoulders as your head drops back against the pillows.

"Poe, please," you beg, unsure if you are able to take much more. Clearly neither can he, his name on your lips undoing his patience. He wraps his fingers around your thigh, hoisting your leg up over his hip as he sinks deeper into you, picking up the pace.

His hips slam into yours, filling the room with the sound of flesh on flesh, accompanied only by his curses and praises that fall freely and loudly. For all his requests for you to be loud the pilot's own moans are enough to drown yours out.

Working a hand between your bodies you press a finger to your clit, rubbing tight circles around the hardened nub as Poe angles his hips, pressing up against the blissful spot inside you. Your whole body almost arches up off the bed with the combined pleasure catapulting through you, an almost screamed curse fighting its way out of your throat.

Poe groans low and shakily, barely holding his own climax back, his thrusts becoming messy and mistimed.

"That's it baby. Fuck wanna feel you cum, wanna hear you," he groans, completely wrecked.

That's all it takes. Your orgasm hits suddenly and brightly, your whole body writhing and stiffening as the pleasure overtakes you, coursing through your veins like lava, making your vision go white as you tremble through it. Poe had wanted to hear you, but the purely feral noise you let out, you wouldn't be surprised if the whole damn hotel heard you. You're sure Poe would probably enjoy it if they did.

It's almost too much for your oversensitive body to feel Poe thrusting into you faster and harder, chasing his own end, babbled curses and praises falling from his lips. You shake with overstimulation when his hips stutter, emptying himself deep inside you, your nails leaving crescent moons on his shoulders as you cling desperately to him, your thighs trembling, chest heaving as you try to catch your breath.

Poe half collapses on you, letting your leg down slowly as he presses soft kisses to your neck, against every love bite he's given you in the heat of the moment. You suspect there may be quite a few questions when you get back to the base tomorrow. Turning your head you press a soft kiss to his cheek, making him lean up to look at you.

"Better than you dreamt?" He grins, still flushed and panting.

"I didn't dream about that," you giggle breathlessly, shaking limbs melting into the mattress, sated and tired. Poe raises his eyebrows, letting out a thoughtful hum before he suddenly pulls out of you, making you whimper and immediately miss the feeling of him inside you.

Shuffling down your body he presses a soft kiss between your breasts. You frown at him, confused by his sudden movement and how he still has so much energy. How is it you're a wrecked mess and he's still acting like he can go another ten rounds? Why can't he just be still for one second?

Another kiss to your ribs, first the right side, then the left, moving slowly down, before he pauses, looking up through his lashes at you.

"You didn't dream about us making love?"

You go to make fun of his choice of language but before you have a chance he licks a hot stripe down to your naval, making your breath catch with the sudden rush of pleasure. You're starting to question if he's able to read your thoughts, if he knows the truth of your dream already. Perhaps you had said more than just his name in your sleep?

"Nope, not about us," you breathe unsteadily, trying to hold yourself back from begging anything from him again. You suspect you know what's coming next and honestly, you're not sure if your body is able to handle it, barely over your first two climaxes. Still you weren't about to give in to his questions, he'd never shut up if you admit it. "Told you, I wasn't dreaming about you."

"You are a terrible liar," Poe states, his hands gripping your thighs, pushing them apart. The rush of cold air against your heated flesh makes you gasp and the pilot smirks, his eyes flickering down to your swollen cunt, leaking with your combined climax before coming back to you, a devilish grin taking over his face.

"'Whatever I want to do to you' still stand?" He asks.

All you can do is nod mutely, a fresh wave of need building despite your exhaustion.

"Good," Poe grins, pinning your thighs to the mattress, preventing you from moving. "Because I'm going to get the truth out of you my way."

He does exactly that. He drags the truth out of you to every question he wants answered and more, twice with his mouth, then again with his cock, reducing you to a babbling trembling mess, willing to tell him whatever he wanted to know, and he's infuriatingly smug about it.

~

Poe had been surprisingly tender afterwards. He'd carefully cleaned you up, brought you a glass of water, massaged your sore muscles, before he'd finally pulled you into his arms, holding you close against him.

Of course you had known Poe was kind, of course you knew he took care of the people he was close to, even those who only spent the night with him. There were enough stories around the base to give you a general idea of that, but for some reason you can't place this felt different, it felt intimate.

What surprised you more than anything was how quiet he was now. Appart from a few murmured words about how good you had been for him, and to check you were alright, he hadn't said much at all. It was almost unnerving after his behaviour all day. Really if you had known this would have shut him up you might have jumped on him hours ago. But now, the silence seems worrying.

"You okay?" You ask, your head still against his chest, listening to his steady heartbeat as his fingers draw mindless patterns against your back.

"Yeah, I'm okay. I was just thinking…maybe we can do this again? Sometime soon? Be in the same bed I mean." The pilot asks. He doesn't sound like the cocky confident Flyboy you're expecting. If anything he sounds a little unsure of his own question.

You won't give him the satisfaction of the enthusiastic yes that tries to escape. The last thing you want out of this night is to become some regular casual hook-up. Poe wasn't exactly known for keeping long term relationships, citing the fact it was too difficult during the middle of a war, which you suppose you could understand. He was at least always very clear about that with whoever he got involved with.

Equally you don't want to say no. You want this, him. You want the moments of passion and quiet, you want the teasing and fights, you want more in whatever way you can.

In the end you go for the middle ground, giving him an option of more, while closely guarding yourself against this being a casual fuck.

"Hmm, suppose if you buy me dinner first then I might consider it. I don't make a habit of sleeping with people without dates."

It's disarmingly sweet when he presses a soft kiss to your head, tightening his arm around you. Your chest aches all the more for moments like this.

"Alright. A date it is." You can hear the smile in his voice, sleepy and happy.

You didn't exactly expect him to agree to that so easily, and while it gives you a flutter of hope, you don't quite trust he catches your meaning.

"I said I'd consider, I didn't say I'd agree. I might have other options," you warn, trying to get him to consider what he wants you to be to him.

Poe lets out a soft chuckle.

"You say that like your pretending it wasn't the best fuck of your life, and you're desperate to do it again."

You lean up on your arm to look at him, raising an eyebrow and fixing him with an unimpressed look at his cockyness.

"Tell me I'm wrong," he challenges confidently, "because if I am, then I'm just going to have to keep trying. The aim is to make you fall hopelessly in love with me eventually."

"Through sex?" You laugh, ignoring the now familiar butterflies that tell you he might be closer to his aim than he knows.

Poe shrugs, "through whatever necessary means, as long as I get to keep you as mine."

It's almost a knee jerk reaction to open your mouth and tell him you aren't a pet or property to be owned, but as you meet his gaze you realise you are once more judging him a little too quickly and all too harshly. It's clear he means more than that, his gaze open and vulnerable.

A warm feeling of familiarity, of safety, of something bigger, spreads through your very bones, something that shows there is much more than lust and affection, perhaps for both of you.

Your response is much softer than your initial reaction might have been, had you not taken a moment.

"Take me to dinner tomorrow then?"

"I think tomorrow might be today," Poe smiles, nodding towards the window where the faint pink light of dawn is starting to peek through the drawn blinds. You groan knowing sunrise both means you really should untangle yourself from the pilot and head back to base.

"Well honestly I think I've had enough of you for one day." You tease, pushing yourself off him and sitting up, debating if you can handle another cold shower. In all honesty a cold shower is probably exactly what you need after you make the mistake of glancing down at Poe, still naked, the sheet barely covering his more private parts, his curls messy from your fingers, peering up at you with a half smile.

"We both know you can never get enough of me," Poe states, before he wraps his arms around you and drags you back down onto the bed. He throws one leg over yours, effectively trapping you next to him as he snuggles up close to you.

You don't bother fighting, too tired from the night's activity to argue your way out of his grip. Sighing you sink into the bed, allowing your eyes to flutter closed.

"I knew this would work," Poe hums happily in your ear. You mumble enough of a sound to make him realise you're asking what he means.

"Getting you in a hotel room with me would make you admit you wanted me."

You give another tired hum in acknowledgement before his words finally hit you, and you sit up to stare at him, suddenly wide awake. Poe grins back at you, knowing exactly what you are thinking.

"Tell me this was not some plan to get me into bed!"

Poe feigns a comedic shocked expression, holding one hand to his chest as he stares open mouthed at you.

"Of course not! What do you think of me? Why is your opinion of me is so low that you think I'd go as far to break the ship engine, so we'd be stuck here alone, find the busiest hotel on this planet, specifically book one room knowing the others would be booked already by the time we got here, ask for the smallest bed-"

He doesn't get to continue. Picking up the pillow you repeatedly hit him hard with it while Poe laughs, holding his hands up in surrender.

"I'm joking. I'm joking, I swear," he laughs, grabbing his own pillow and hitting you back. "I'd never purposely break a ship."

"You manipulative little shit,"

Neither of you surrender until the bed is covered with feathers, the pillowcases empty and discarded, your limbs tangled together, lips pressed against sweat salted skin. This time it's you who pries the truth from him, your way.

"My methods may be unorthodox but -" he gets no further before you smack him in the face with your pillow, causing him to dissolve into laughter once more.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Please support fic writers by reblogging and letting them know your thoughts!! Reblogs and interaction keeps writers writing!

Thank you for reading!

#lil celebration this made it to 1000 notes #please reblog with your comments if you are one of the many who just hit the like button #reviews and comments are always welcome #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x female reader #poe dameron x f!reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron smut

[the-little-ewok]

yeah sex is cool I guess

but have you ever had someone leave a comment with a paragraph-long review of your fanfic containing genuine praise, thorough criticism, and an in-depth analysis of all the lore hints you dropped that you spent ages intricately crafting

[the-little-ewok]

Oscar Isaac by Josh Olins for Brioni

#🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠 #this is general poe to me

[the-little-ewok]

The Princess Bride (1987) dir. Rob Reiner

[the-little-ewok]

#every single one #because nobody comments on anything these days so its easy to do 😂

[the-little-ewok]

The Princess Bride (1987) dir. Rob Reiner

[the-little-ewok]

Thank you for including my fic here! So glad you enjoyed reading 🥰🥰🥰

read it again part II

My continuation of some of my favorite fics and series to re-read.

As always please check the individual warnings on each one. I have a wide range of things I read and enjoy and it’s up to you to indulge or skip whatever you’d like.

Part I here

Frankie Morales

Taste like heaven- @magpie-to-the-morning

Fuck it I love you- @psychedelic-ink

Take care of you- @whiskeynwriting

The hunt- @absurdthirst

Santiago Garcia

Ride or Die series- @writefightandflightclub

Cold shower- @the-little-ewok

Santiago Baby- @reallyrallyauthor

Baby Please Series- @hoedamn-eron

Triple Frontier (all the boys)

Then and now- @softlyspector

Team Building Exercise- @mylifeliterally

A proposition- @dameronscopilot

Bloom- @charnelhouse

Steven Grant

But you can’t wait to sink in- @moonknightly

Batons and Unicorns series- @stormkobra-5

Panic- @peterman-spideyparker

Make it up to you- @preciousscarab

Marc Spector

Shibari- @bits-and-babs

Making trouble- @juneknight

Far too long- @fettuccin-e

Tag team- @babyboibucky

Jake Lockley

Getting to know you- @moonlight-presence

Let me help you- @screwtodd-stevesherdaddynow

Look at me- @luc-k-y

So cold- @loki-hargreeves

Moon Knight ( all the boys)

A long night- @myfictionaldreams

Limitless- @missdictatorme

More hearts than mine- @starryevermore

Torn, Show me- @blackleatherjacketz

The shape of you-niverse- @bit-dodgy-innit

Feel free to leave a comment with your favorite re-read or message me directly to include in future installments.

Please comment and reblog the authors works that they pour their time, heart and soul into.

[the-little-ewok]

Having a deep fear of fire I usually stay away from firefighter anything but I really feel like Poe could help me overcome that fear with some very specific... Distractions 😏

Seriously this was 🫠🫠🫠🫠🫠 10/10 start to my day!

for minigirl87

Hi, congratulations 🎊 on your 1 year anniversary. Could I request, please. Poe Dameron and the AU firefighter. I used to clean in a fire station and have a thing for firefighters, plus I could could easily see Poe as a fireman, lol. Take care ❤️

Some Like it Hot

For @minigirl87

AN: Another fic-aversary request! I know you sent this to me via messenger AGES ago and you probably don't even remember doing it but I need you to know that Firefighter!Poe has had me in a chokehold ever since lol. THAT SAID, I have no idea if this is what you were looking for but my muse is a whore (esp for Poe) so here we are. Absolutely shameless smut, very, very little plot. Hope y'all enjoy 😌❤️

(Un-beta’d)

Rated: M+ (this is smut so, i mean, you’ve been warned?) Words: 1,297 Pairing: Firefighter!Poe Dameron x Photographer!F!Reader Warnings: PWP, p in v, strangers to lovers, praise kink, please let me know if i missed anything. AO3

——————

Somehow, you’d known that it would end this way.  

Well, maybe not this exact way—with you fucking a smoking-hot firefighter in the dark room of your studio—but the second he’d walked into the room, you’d known something was bound to happen. Granted, you’d been thinking more along the lines of a coffee date or, if you were really lucky, dinner.  

The Universe had other plans, it seems (and who were you to argue?). 

His strong fingers grip you tightly as he fucks into you from behind, every powerful thrust of his hips all but knocking the breath from your lungs. A choked moan escapes you as he hits one of your sweet spots, cunt clenching around his (considerable) length and pulling a groan from between his lips. You feel so good, so full, the pleasure zinging through your body as he drags himself in and out of your slick heat.  

You don’t normally do this—this being fucking someone within hours of meeting them, without even knowing their full name—but there’s just something about this guy—Poe—that makes you wanna give him everything. 

It had started innocently enough, just lingering glances and a bit of flirting, but the tension had grown between you the longer the shoot went on. More than once, your gaze had lingered, unable to stop yourself from admiring him—with his leanly muscled body, chiseled jaw, deep eyes, and that stubborn curl that kept falling across his forehead. He could tell you were into him; you’d known by the way he’d looked at you. 

Normally, you were more professional while you worked, more respectful of the vulnerability of your subjects as you shot them. You’ve never felt this before though, this pull, this need, and it surprised you how quickly you’d thrown out all your principles for what you assumed was just a one-time thing. 

“Taking me so well, sweetheart,” Poe slurs, the pace of his thrusts faltering slightly as you flutter around him. “Fuck, feels so good.” 

You can’t help the whine that escapes you at his praise, your fingers gripping the edges of the counter he has you pressed against. You kind of wish you could see his face (you bet he looks stunning when he comes), but he’s hitting you so deep like this it’s a little hard to complain. 

He grunts when you flutter around him again, your fingers aching as your grip on the counter tightens. You’re so close, can feel the tension coiling inside you as he spears into you again and again. You push back to meet him and he moans, his cock somehow reaching even deeper inside you, electricity zinging up your spine. 

“Please,” you breathe, unsure exactly what you’re asking for. 

He seems to know though, adjusting his thrusts so he can lean forward and slip his hand between your thighs, calloused fingers immediately finding and circling your clit. You whimper in pleasure as a myriad of sensations race through you, your arms shaking as your body is pushed closer and closer to the brink.  

“You’re right there aren’t you, sweetheart?” he murmurs, his voice thick with his own pleasure. “You’re so close, squeezing me so tight—” 

All you can do is moan in pleasure, in agreement, the combination of his cock and his fingers making you feel almost drunk. 

“Need you to come for me,” he pants, more of a plea than a demand. “Need to feel you.” 

Without warning, Poe pulls you up from the counter so your back is flush against his chest. Your mouth falls open in surprise, a noise somewhere between a squeal and moan escaping as he grinds up into you, his thrusts slower now but no less devastating. 

“Oh fuck,” you gasp, head lolling back against his shoulder as he groans in agreement.  

He’s just as far gone as you, it seems, his thrusts a little sloppier now as he nears his peak.  

“Pussy feels like heaven, sweetheart,” he slurs, his mouth and tongue molten against your heated skin. 

You feel like you're drowning, like he’s suffocating you with pleasure. You need something, something to hold onto, something to keep you grounded. You reach back, plunging your fingers into his soft curls, gripping them for dear life. You’re so close, right there at the edge, the tension inside you wound so tight you feel as if you might burst.  

Another brush of his fingers against your clit is enough to send you soaring over the edge, your body shaking in his arms as your release slams into you. Poe’s groan is choked as you convulse around him, but he fucks you through it, mumbling words of praise and encouragement in your ear as waves of pleasure surge through you (“That’s it, baby, soak my cock. Oh fuck, yeah, just like that, oh good girl—”) 

He stills a moment later, spilling his thick, hot cum deep inside you, his strangled moans muffled as he buries his face in your neck. You relax a little as you come back down, the solidity of his body against yours comforting. You stay like that for a moment trying to catch your breath, the two of you panting and half naked in the middle of the room. After what simultaneously feels like two seconds and an hour, he pulls back a bit from your neck, leaving a gentle kiss at the top of your spine that makes something in your chest ache.  

“Okay?” he asks, his voice soft and a little raspy. 

You hum, nodding as you allow yourself to melt into him a little, your body going limp in his hold. He chuckles softly, tightening his arms around you and pressing another kiss against your neck. For a moment, you let yourself pretend, pretend that the two of you aren’t strangers, that this isn’t a one-time thing, that he’s yours (and you’re his). 

He slips out of you with a hiss, the loss of him dragging you back to reality. Your legs feel like jelly, but you manage to stand on your own, shakily pulling your clothes back on before turning to face him. Considering the position you were just in, it’s silly how awkward you suddenly feel. You lean against the counter behind you, chancing a glance up at him; the soft smile on his lips makes your heart skip a little. 

Ugh, he looks just as gorgeous in the red light of the dark room as he did when he’d waltzed into your studio hours ago. A part of you kind of hates him for it. 

Before you can say anything, he leans in, capturing your lips in a soft kiss. You sigh, eyes fluttering shut as you kiss him back, your arms winding around his neck. His hands settle on your waist, pulling your body against his as he licks into your mouth. You moan softly, completely lost in him, in the way he’s making you feel. When you part for air, he presses his forehead against yours, your pants mingling in the small space between you. 

“Go out with me,” he breathes, his nose bumping against yours. 

You huff a laugh at the request (demand?), fingers tangling in the curls at the base of his skull. He smiles again, his lips brushing over yours. 

“Probably should’ve asked that before, huh?” 

You laugh again, still breathless. “Better late than never.”

His laugh is husky and the sound of it makes something warm settle in your gut. “I appreciate you being so understanding.” 

You bite your lip, smothering your smile. “I know you’ll find a way to make it up to me.” 

He hums in agreement, a playful gleam in his eyes as he leans in to kiss you again. “I’ve got a few ideas.”

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#poe dameron x reader #fic rec

[the-little-ewok]

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[the-little-ewok]

Astarion: "What are you hunting? Something terrifying? Dragon? Cyclops? Kobold? 😏"

Gandrel: "Nothing so dramatic. I'm hunting a vampire spawn named Astarion. 🙂"

Astarion:

Astarion: "Not dramatic??? 😟 I think you'll find that I am super dramatic. 😠🔪"

#this always makes me laugh in game #nothing dramatic is actually the most dramatic little vamp ive ever seen #and we love him for it

[the-little-ewok]

🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

Oh my gosh this is so sweet! Pun intended 😂

This is literally so adorable because this is the type of thing I like to do for people. I love that it just goes on for months before Loki does something back 😂 It's so in character. It also really made me want some sweet treats 😂

10/10 cuteness!!

A Sweet Discovery

Pairing: Loki x reader

Summary: The one in which you found out Loki's desire for sweets and decided to do something about it.

Words: 1.3k

Warnings: I think none, it's a fluff piece!

A/N: It's time! I don't remember when was the last time I wrote something Loki, but thanks to the discord gals (you know who you are), you're getting this! Well, mostly they are getting this, since they won! But hey, I still love Loki too, so this was very nice to write! Also, this is part of the "Things I can't say out loud Anthology", so there is where you'll find it!

The chocolate brownies on display on the kitchen table seemed to mock him. As Loki entered to get a drink, in fact, they were there, unchecked, for everyone to eat.

For a second, he was tempted. There was no one, after all - but just as he was stepping closer, Sam entered the kitchen, glancing at him and moving to grab a sweet.

“You can have one, you know?” Sam started, noticing Loki's scowl towards the chocolate treats. “Wanda made them for everyone to enjoy”

“I do not eat mortal things” It came out automatically from Loki's mouth, as if rehearsed time and time again.

Sam shrugged, “You do you, man, more for me”

As Loki moved away, no one noticed you, hidden behind a corner and listening to the whole interaction. You knew Loki would have eaten one if alone, but he was always depriving himself in front of others - and he was a hard nut to crack. You felt the desire to do something: there must be a way to let Loki enjoy some sweetness in peace. It was sad that he felt the need to deprive himself of something he clearly wanted to try.

Then, an idea: if he weren't going to bring himself to the sweets, you were going to bring the sweets to him. And as you walked back to your room, you laughed at your own joke.

The first time, you started with something easy: candies. You sneaked up to his room and left a little bowl - not many - just to see how he reacted. Loki was confused at first, but then, after looking around for a second, he picked up the bowl, hiding in his room. When you found the bowl back in the kitchen after a few days, you knew you had been successful.

Then came the time of the brownies, to which Loki was still quite suspicious. He did check with his magic though, and nothing foul was afoot. After the brownies, it was some cake: a fruit one and then a chocolate one. Some chocolates, cupcakes and so on.

For months you left him little treats and with time he looked less and less confused and more and more pleased. You didn't even check on him anymore, sure that he was finally enjoying his sweets in the quietness of his solitude.

One day, though, things changed: it was you, in fact, that found some cookies outside your room.

You blinked at them, trying to understand. Did Loki know? Had he known all this time?

You swallowed, the idea of having done something wrong at the forefront of your thoughts - but no, he did enjoy his sweets! You saw it with your own eyes- maybe?

Anxiety brought you straight to Loki's room: you would have fooled yourself if you thought that the cookies were from anyone else. Biting your lip, you tried to steady your breaths before knocking on his door, but before you could do it, it swung open on its own, Loki looking at you with a smirk on the other side.

Silence lingered; him leaning casually on the door, while you stood rigid, looking at him.

Then, you sighed. “You knew it from the beginning, didn't you?”

“No,” he answered, getting serious at your sullen expression, “Not from the beginning, but I got to it quickly”

You sighed again, deflating a bit. “I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable-”

“You did not” he interrupted, not elaborating more. It was clear he wanted to say more, to prolong the conversation, but didn't know how. It was his time to look around nervously while you stood there, contemplating the same.

The nervous energy was interrupted by you clearing your throat. “Maybe,” you started, gaining his full attention, “Maybe we can eat these together?”

It was a timid offering, an unsure smile on your lips, but that was all Loki needed. After all, if he couldn't enjoy what he wanted with you, he didn't know who else he could do it with. He nodded and opened the door wider to invite you in. His room was cozy, with soft, dark tones.

“Do you-” Loki walked around you, moving things around, “Do you wanna watch a movie?” He stopped, frowning, “That is how you call them right?”

You laughed softly, “Let's watch a movie, yeah”

As you both got comfortable on his bed and started up a movie, it all felt a bit surreal to you. You kept silent, but your eyes kept drifting to Loki, watching him reaching for the cookies and eating them slowly. You kept replaying how closed off he was with the others and how he seemed like a completely different person now - not that he was opening up, but he seemed more calm, comfortable. It was weird seeing it up close, sharing the space with him.

“Do I have something on my face?” he asked, eyebrows lifting and eyes fixed on you now.

“No, no” you answered, flustered. You could feel the warmth crawling up your neck and diverted your eyes on your cookie. “It's just- I don't know, I've never seen you doing this with the others”

“It is not like the care”

You frowned, “They do-”

“It doesn't really matter though, does it?” he said, smiling, “You are here and you discovered my secret”

“Um-”

“My predilection,” he started, turning completely towards you, “for sweet things”

You swallowed, humming.

His smile grew at your reaction and he chuckled, getting another cookie and stuffing it in his mouth. “I have to keep you close now”

Chuckling you shook your head, “Everything to protect your reputation”

“Right, true, that’s all” he said with a chuckle. He wanted to add: and to keep close the only one who saw through me, but he didn't have the nerve. Not that he had to speak it out loud, as you saw his expression and the gratitude and appreciation on his face.

A weird sense of pride and happiness washed through you, and after that came the excitement of the prospect of finally getting to know Loki bit by bit.

You smiled at him and he reciprocated, tenderly, knowing you knew he meant more than just noticing his love for sweets. Right there you saw another part of him, the one he kept hidden and closed off - the one he didn't like because it was vulnerable and it craved things he couldn't have - or thought he couldn't have, because he didn't deserve them. An understanding settled between you, and right there something clicked. You ignored the feeling though, letting it linger there for future you to think about.

Silence settled again in the room, only disturbed by your munching and the sounds of the movie. It was comfortable, until Loki broke it again: “Will you stop now?”

Your eyes darted to him, but he wasn't looking at you. “Stop what?”

“Bringing me sweets” he murmured, eyes never meeting yours.

You blinked, taking a cookie and offering it to him. “Do you want me to?”

This time he lifted his head, meeting your eyes. You knew then that he didn't want that, he didn't want you to stop. "No, I- I enjoyed finding little surprises around and knowing they were from you"

You smiled. "Then I won't stop"

An expression similar to relief crossed his face, but before you could say anything else, it disappeared. He accepted the cookie, biting happily into it and you copied him, going on to watch the movie.

“Thank you,” he murmured.

“You're welcome”

And in a burst of courage, you grabbed his free hand, squeezing it. To your excitement, he reciprocated, sending you a smile. Spurred on, you leaned your head on his shoulder, keeping your eyes on the tv and after a moment of indecision, you swore you felt him relax and land a kiss on your head, before leaning his own head over yours.

Yes, you mused, you would never stop bringing him sweets.

And maybe one day he'll be able to enjoy whatever he wanted, whenever and wherever, without caring what the others thought.

#loki x reader #fic rec