#oscar isaac fluff imagine

[blue-sadie]

Two Besties

Imagine:

Filming with the two most iconic besties like oscar isaac pedro pascal and the three of you just clicked and cause a lot of chaos together so much so some of the other crew members hide away from you three, but this lazy afternoon you fell asleep with your head on Oscar's lap and your legs draped over Pedro's.

"I think I love her oscar I don't think I know I love her and I know you'll probably think I'm crazy but she gets me she gets us fuck she maybe even more demented then us but that's what I love about her she gets me oscar and I think you feel the same way too"

[fhrlclln]

miguel o’hara x wife! reader

guys… i just wanna rub his back 🥹 (this small fic is solely for my self-pleasure lmao)

LIKE LOOK AT HOW BROAD AND WIDE AND I COULD JUST CLIMB HIM— but anyways, waking up miguel with back rubs cuz i know he needs them desperately.

suggestive themes under the cut

｡･:*˚:✧｡

you groaned awake, eyes fluttering open as the morning sun shined through the bedroom. you grumbled, feeling a warmth beside you as you groggily lifted your head up with a surprise awaiting. a sleeping surprise actually.

miguel was sleeping next to you, stomach down and arm wrapped around his pillow, amusingly you cocked to your side, surprised to see your husband is actually sleeping beside you. knowing him, you had guessed he’d be at his lab last night, sleeping in usual by that small couch he placed in it. you weren’t utterly disappointed that he’s like this, he’s a busy man, a busy man with a lot of work going on in his life than most. you smiled sleepily, admiring the way how relaxed he is, light snores coming out of his mouth. and how his bare tan back was deliciously being glistened by the lovely sunlight.

god, you’re certainly awake now as his muscles flexed suddenly as he moved in his sleep, head moving to the other side to face you. your heart fluttered, finally seeing his face, yet you frowned a bit seeing his eye bags were more sunken than last week and his face seemed more paler than usual. you sighed, guessing he came home more tired than usual. you glance wearily at the digital clock, seeing it was almost noon, you guessed both of you overslept a bit. you yawned, stretching, your tank top scrunched up a bit as you giddily glided your hand to touch his back, wanting to slowly arouse him from his sleep to join you for brunch.

“mhmm…” he groaned a bit, thick brows of his scrunching cutely. you silently chuckled, moving your body to sit up as you softly rubbed circular motions on his broad back. you hoped your touch wasn’t that cold as you felt him shift again before he continued snoring.

“miguel… wake up. ‘s almost lunch time.” you softly whispered, kissing his shoulder as you continued rubbing up to his deltoids. your hand wasn’t that big to completely rub each part of his muscled back, he was big, big in all sizes, which you love about him. even in height he towered over you, mostly you love the way you’d grip his back, loving the feel of it when you’re under him. you bit your lip, a little flustered now how frisky you are just by watching your husband sleep. you can sense him finally waking up, you kissed the back of his neck, pressing your body on his as you snuggled against his side until his arm suddenly pulled you in closer, engulfing in his embrace, making you giggle. the scent of him covering your nose as you sighed happily.

“too early, hermosa.” miguel grumbles as he squints his eyes open to see you. you kiss the tip of his chin, wrapping your arm around his waist as you rubbed more circles on his back, making him groan in pleasure.

“that feel good, honey?” you whispered sweetly, nuzzling your nose on his neck. his arm shifted, hand now moving along the expanse of your thigh, gripping your bare flesh, your sleep shorts riding up, making you squeeze your legs at the feel of his rough calloused fingers.

“yeah, yeah, i’m awake.” he chuckles tiredly, the pupils of his eyes dilated as he ducks down to kiss you. you moan, feeling a little helpless as he moves to tower over you, making you forget what you woke him up for as he kisses down to your neck. grinding his hips to yours, the clock turning to almost 12:00 as he gently bites down.

it was a good way to start the morning though.

｡･:*˚:✧｡

domestic bliss i love it

[eyelessfaces]

just in case

poe dameron x reader

summary: while fiddling with bb–8's memory, you stumble onto an audio message– poe's prerecorded goodbyes.

based on @ivystoryweaver's headcanon on this post! thank you for allowing me to write something about it!

warnings: angst, mentions of death and war

tags: gn!reader, hurt/comfort, fluff, kissing, poe being an absolute sap

word count: 2.6k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

He can’t help the fond smile growing over his face at the sight of you, deeply focused on the repair project in front of you before his knuckles hit against the doorframe a couple times, catching your attention. 

Your gaze meets Poe’s as he steps into your workshop, your expression of concentration quickly giving way to an easy smile when you see him, closely followed by BB–8. 

Poe greets you with a kiss, his hand lingering at your side when he pulls away. 

“What’s bringing you here, handsome?” you ask, shifting to put away the tool you still have in hand. “Hey Beebs,” you smile as you glance down at the droid that greets you back. 

Poe gazes down at his droid, his look shifting back at you. “Could you take a look at him whenever you got the time?” he asks, a small, defeated sigh escaping his mouth. 

“What’s up?” you question, crossing your arms and raising an eyebrow at him. It hadn’t been that long since you last checked up on the droid.

“I think there’s something up with his memory, he’s been acting a little forgetful lately” Poe explains; you can see the concern in his eyes, can hear the worry in his voice.

“Okay, I’ll see what I can do.” Poe nods, pinching his lips into a quiet smile as he looks down at the droid. “Hey, you don’t have to worry'' you reassure him, resting a hand over his arm. “It’s nothing too serious usually. Nothing I can’t fix.” He nods again, knowing he can trust you with this, knowing you're as good at this as he is at flying. 

“I’ll take care of him as soon as I’m done with that” you point back to the mess of scavenged parts resting over your workbench.

“Thank you sweetheart,” he says, cupping the back of your head and leaning in to leave a quick kiss on your forehead. “I’d stay with you and tell you about my day, but I have my last meeting of the day in about less than five minutes.” he shrugs, starting to walk backwards to exit the room.

“Sure, don’t worry.” you smile. “Come over when you’re done” 

As promised, the minute you’re done repairing the project you were working on, you lower your workbench to BB-8’s level, letting him roll onto the surface before you adjust it to your level so you can examine him. 

“Hey buddy. memory issues huh?” you coo, grabbing your tools, gathering everything you need to check up on him. He responds with upset beeps, his upper part sagging in defeat. 

“That's okay. Happens to the best of us,” you reassure him, setting to work on diagnosing the problem. “So since it seems to be a memory issue, I’m gonna have to look through your data” you explain, opening his access panels. 

It doesn’t take long for you to identify the issue: a few corrupted memory files. It’s a relief to see it's nothing severe, just a bit of corrupted data that needs to be cleaned and restructured. “Hah, found the problem,” you say, beginning the delicate process of correcting the corrupted files. “Looks like some of your memory files got a bit jumbled. Should be fine once we get that sorted out, there shouldn’t be any problem.” you explain. “You know, Poe always gets so worried about you.” you say, trying to keep the droid calm as your fingers work through the wires and circuits. BB–8 emits a series of grateful beeps, and you smile, focusing back on the task at hand. 

As you work on fixing him, BB–8 chirps curiously, his dome turning to watch you. You explain each step in simple terms, trying to distract him and make it the least stressful possible for him. “I’m working through your memory module. Some of these files are corrupted, so I’m cleaning them up and re-organizing everything. Just like tidying up a messy room.”

BB-8 responds with a relieved series of beeps, and you chuckle. “Yeah, I know it’s not fun for you to have me mess with your memory stuff, but I’ll have you be back to your old self in no time.” 

As you carefully rework BB–8’s memory files, you fumble slightly with a delicate wire, causing a brief short circuit – the droid jerks and beeps erratically before suddenly playing a vocal message. You reach to stop it, assuming it’s a manufactured error message you’ve triggered, but you freeze when you recognize Poe’s voice. “Hey baby,” Poe’s voice crackles through BB–8’s speakers, startling you. You frown, confused, ready to stop the audio message. “If you’re hearing this, it’s probably because something happened and I’m not around anymore.” Your heart properly skips a beat. “I’m sorry I’m leaving you like this,” he sighs softly. “Damn it’s weird talking like this when I’m still here,” he chuckles. You step back, driven by morbid curiosity, firmly intending to listen to the rest of it. 

“But you know, with everything that’s been happening lately and that’s gonna happen, you never know what’s next.” 

He sounds tired. You bite down onto your lip, a soft frown forming over your face and your gaze lost as the recording continues. “I could die in two weeks or in twenty years from the moment I’m recording this, so it’s pretty strange. I just… I love you so much. I wanted you to hear it from me one last time.” 

Your lips curl into a weak smile, tears welling up in your eyes. It’s stupid. He’s still here. It’s just a recording in case he dies.

But somehow, you can’t help it. Not with the prospect that you could listen to it again one day, in the context it was intended to be listened to.

“You’ve always been supportive of my bullshit, no matter what, and you were always there for me no matter how stupid I got, so it’s only fair I thank you one last time. I really hope we got to enjoy our time together” 

You pause the audio message, running your hand over your face, sighing deeply. You want to stop there and not listen to the entirety of it, on one hand because you aren't even supposed to hear it or know of its existence in the first place, and most of all because you’re not sure you can handle it – but your curiosity gets the best of you, and you let it go on.

“It’s stupid that I want to cry, because I’m still here” he chuckles. “You know, I’m recording this because I couldn’t sleep.” he declares. You can hear the soft strain in his voice, you can imagine him and his tired eyes, his hair slightly mussed from tossing and turning like he always does when he’s restless.

He sighs deeply before he speaks again. “I uh… Today’s mission went awful. I could have died and I didn’t even tell you” his voice drops with the weight of his words, he pauses for a second, and the knot inside your throat tightens.  

“You’re sleeping in the next room. You know, you looked so peaceful when I got out of bed that I didn't want to bother you by kissing your forehead, but I did it anyway because I remembered I might not be able to do it forever”

You can’t help it, it’s over for you. Tears roll down your cheeks on their own, the back of your hand suppressing your sniffles and the soft laugh you huff out at his way of always saying things that will get you.

BB-8’s upper part shifts, and he emits a soft, sympathetic whirr, trying to console you.

“I’ve left this message with BB-8 because I know he’s always with you if he’s not with me. Take care of him for me, will you? And take care of yourself. You’re stronger than you know, and you’ll get through this. I love you. So much. More than you know. Which is why I’m gonna cut the recording and get back to bed to hold you tight while I can” 

Your heart tightens inside your chest. You slowly shake your head, tears forced out of you when your eyes fall shut.

“Alright, okay, bye sweetheart. I love you.” 

The recording cuts, ending with a click, leaving you in a stunned silence. BB turns to you, beeping sadly, and you give him a weak smile before wiping the tears over your cheeks with the tips of your fingers. 

You huff out a heavy breath, one that you didn’t even realize was smothering your chest, and force yourself to finish taking care of BB–8 despite everything. 

You’re still sobbing when Poe comes in again. 

He finds you, full on tearing up, not even hiding it – which he finds strange, because you usually turn around and pretend to look for something to quickly dry your tears, and proceed to poorly try to deny you’ve been crying just to avoid worrying him. 

And the context he’s facing quickly leads him to assume something is wrong with BB-8, something you couldn’t manage to fix and now blame yourself for – BB–8 is quick to deny with appalled beeps, so Poe really doesn’t have any idea what he’s dealing with. 

When you pull him near and hug him tight, gripping his hair, longing to be as close to him as possible, he’s still as confused, but he’s swift to take action and hold you even tighter.

His embrace is warm, comforting, his touch delicate as his hand appeasingly rubs over your shoulder, and you progressively manage to calm down and quiet your sobs. “What’s going on babe” he quietly asks, trying to not pounce on you. His fingers carefully lift your chin up, taking care of clearing the tears from your face, his eyes searching yours intensely as he waits for your answer.

You sigh softly, your breath still ragged from sobbing. “I was working on Beebs and I found your…” you pause, realizing you’re not even sure what to call it. You're not even sure you want to say it out loud, to say it's a goodbye message. “I found your recording– I didn't mean to, it just–”

“Oh,” his face drops in saddened surprise, immediately understanding what you’re talking about. “Oh baby” he sighs, shaking his head as he pulls you back into his arms. You weren't supposed to know about this, even less hear it fully, not until he died, that is. “I didn’t want to scare or worry you. I’m sorry you had to hear that– it was just… a precaution.” he murmurs as you cling to him, the remnants of your tears dampening his shirt.

“I know,” you whisper, your voice weak and muffled against his chest. “I just– It was hard to hear. I don’t want to think about losing you”

“I don’t want to think about leaving you either,” he says softly, pulling back just enough to look at your face again. His thumb brushes away the last of your tears when you look at him, his gaze over you filled with a mix of sorrow and unwavering love that you manage to feel just by looking into his dark, warm eyes. “But I need you to know how much you mean to me, no matter what happens”

“Poe,” you scoff-whine. “I know. You’re pretty transparent about it already” you grin. 

When he’s not saying it explicitly, he always has a hand on you, always at least leaves a kiss over your cheek or forehead when he’s not full-on kissing you, and always makes sure to bring you back those jogan fruit cakes you like from Coruscant when he has to go there, and just the way he looks at you has you aware that he loves you, so he really doesn’t need to do that much, but he’s Poe Dameron, so it’s a prerogative.

“I happen to be a very romantic man” he jokes, smiling when he sees you chuckle and shake your head the way you do when he pulls stupid lines. “I just wanted you to hear it from me one last time sweetheart.”

“You and your dramatic flair” you tease lightly, gripping onto his jacket as you let out a soft groan. “You couldn’t just leave a normal message, could you?”

“You know, subtlety isn’t my strong suit” he grins, pressing a soft kiss to your temple. “But seriously, I’m sorry you had to hear it like this. It was meant for dramatic times, not when I was about to ask you if you wanted to get dinner off base like now.”

You snort up a laugh, your arms wrapping around his neck. “You do owe me dinner after that.” 

“I know, right?” he scoffs, an amused smile over his face. “And it means I get to spend more of my alive time with you, so–” he teases, his fingers gently rubbing your back. “Stop that, it’s not funny” you frown, playfully hitting his chest with the back of your hand. “–Plenty of time to remind you that I love you” his hand squeezes yours gently.

You pull him closer, pressing your lips to his in a kiss that is both tender and intense, slow at first but deepening when the fear, the relief, the overwhelming love you feel for him step at the front of your mind. His hand moves from your hip to cup your face, his thumb caressing the skin of your cheeks rough from the tears.

When you break apart, your foreheads are still linked, his fingers gently tracing your face, your breaths mingling. “I’m joking about this, but I promise I’ll do my best for you to not have to listen to this recording again anytime soon.” 

“Mh, hope ‘anytime soon’ means a few decades at least”

“I promise. I love you too much to leave you like this. And I know I’ll look sexy when my hair turns gray” he adds with a playful smile.

You laugh, the sound breaking the lingering tension and bringing a sense of normalcy back. “Oh, definitely” you grin, raking your fingers through his curls. “Most handsome silver fox in the galaxy.” 

Poe smiles, kissing you again, softly. You can very clearly feel BB–8’s presence when you pull away, his needy beeps attesting of his need for attention.

“Yeah, alright buddy” you sigh, turning back to the droid to finish up his repair.

“So he’s okay?” Poe asks, approaching the workbench. 

“He’s all fine, good as new” you smile. “Hey, try running a diagnostic”

The droid runs his internal check, beeping happily once he’s done and everything seems to be alright.

“See?” you turn to Poe. “All good.” you grin at him, glad to have something concrete to smile about after that emotional rollercoaster you went through.  

“Thank you, really. I knew you’d fix him up” Poe declares, smiling as he watches BB roll off the workbench and onto the floor, navigating around your feet. “And I was serious about that dinner, by the way,” he says, watching you putting away your tools and tidying up your workbench. “We could both use a break.”

“Yeah,” you agree, scoffing. 

Poe’s hand finds yours as you turn the light off and leave the workshop, your fingers tangling as you walk through the corridors of the base, finding your way out. 

“Hey,” Poe calls, pulling you closer as you walk. You hum, looking at him, noticing the slight hint of worry in his eyes. “You really think I’d look hot with gray hair?”

You scoff, shaking your head. “Absolutely baby”

A content smile grows over his face, and he nods. “Cool.”

—

any and every comment/reblog is greatly appreciated!!

star wars taglist:

@lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift

@whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @spider-starry

@jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious

@stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96 @pigeonmama

[chaithetics]

Literary Cuddles

Pairing: Steven Grant x reader (GN) (Jake and Marc are mentioned but this is a Steven fic!) Word Count: 0.8K Dividers: @thecutestgrotto Warnings: None?! There's a kiss but it's just fluff! Not proofread lol. A/N: Only 4 of my fics have a wordcount under 2K (and 2 of them are me trying to write a 500ish fic lol) so I wanted to practice writing a shorter fic as I struggle with that. I really hope you enjoy it! Comments and reblogs are appreciated 🫶

It was raining today, pouring buckets and buckets. Not many dared to brave the outdoors today, you didn’t blame them and any that could be spotted from your window were clutching umbrellas and wrapped up in scarves and rain jackets. 

It didn’t bother you though, not in the slightest. It was the perfect weather for the perfect weekend you’d been needing. Jake and Marc wouldn’t hold it against you for wanting a quiet indoors weekend but Steven was the least likely to have any issue, you knew for a fact he loved these types of weekends and that made you feel happier for not wanting to leave the house and stay curled in. 

You sit on the sofa and watch Steven buzz around the kitchen like a bee, his gorgeous soft curls bouncing and him subconsciously putting his hand through them every twenty seconds as he prepares cups of tea for you both. 

After the sound of the kettle ringing, Steven pours the hot water into two mugs and after a few moments he comes back, carefully looking down and watching his feet with cautious steps to make sure he doesn’t trip over anything and spill the hot drinks. 

“Here you go, love.” Steven smiles and carefully hands the mug to you, making sure you have a good grip of it and it won’t spill. You blow on the mug and give it a sip even though you know it’ll be too hot. 

“Thanks, Steven.” You smile at him gratefully and wait for him to settle down on the couch next to you. 

Steven sits down and blows on the tea for a good minute before he takes a sip, his brow furrows and nose twitches as the temperature burns his tongue. It happens everytime. 

“Oh, my poor darling…” You smile playfully and put your mug down on a coaster nearby, you lean over to Steven and kiss his cheek softly. 

“If you’re going to kiss me now love, you could at least kiss me on the lips. It’s my mouth not my cheek.” He teases as he puts his mug down. 

You chuckle at his sweet and teasing words, sitting closer to him and pressing a soft kiss to his lips, you feel him smile against your lips. Steven kisses you back just as softly and lovingly. You can feel your cheeks heating up, his kisses always warm you up. 

After a moment you pull back and give his mouth a quick peck and chuckle. 

“All better?” 

“All better.” He smiles and caresses your cheek gently for a few seconds. His pupils are dilated and his brown eyes are as soft and warm as always, especially when looking at you. 

You both settle into your rainy weekend plans together on the couch. Steven wraps an arm around you and pulls you to cuddle into his side. He’s the best body pillow you could ever imagine needing and you love that it’s just his natural instinct to immediately have you nestle into his side. 

You lean into Steven, picking up a book you hadn’t read for the first, it’s been in your to be read pile for an embarrassingly long time. Steven starts to read a book as well, another one on ancient civilisations. 

He quickly becomes absorbed in the text, pausing occasionally to read an interesting passage to you with something new he’s learnt or expanding on a fact with the vast knowledge he has from all his other readings. He’s your handsome encyclopaedia. You do the same when there’s a sentence with prose that strikes you and he smiles as he looks down at you and listens to your beautiful voice recite what you’ve read. 

If only you narrated audiobooks, Steven would spend every minute he wasn’t with you listening to them. It would be the perfect combination of his two favourite things, you and reading! He smiles at the idea of that, it would make whenever he’s on the bus to work and not with you so much more enjoyable. Steven loves your voice, it’s so beautiful and the way you enunciate and pronounce words just gives him butterflies and makes him blush. 

These afternoons reading are peaceful and cosy, it’s a favourite pastime for you both now, a ‘regular’ really. You’ve both done it so many times now, that Steven can now confidently hold a book and turn pages with one hand as if it’s what he’s always done. He does it so that he can keep one arm wrapped around you and so he doesn’t obstruct your view or disrupt your literary cuddle session. It’s exactly like Steven, to be so thoughtful and nerdy all at once, it’s sweet and cute. You’re so grateful for him and how comfortable everything is. 

You smile as you look up and admire his gorgeous face and dreamy lashes as he reads another fact out to you about Egyptian mythology. There’s nowhere else you’d rather be.

Tagging: @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction

[spctrsgf]

morning banter

summary: something about you and marc? he wakes up early, and you most certainly do not.

word count: 1.2k

warnings: language, my shitty spanish (i’m trying okay)

a/n: took a quick break from b+h for a lil marc spector drabble!!! hope you all enjoy

Es tan temprano para esta mierda, Marc. Jake’s annoyed Spanish drawl smacks into the side of Marc's head. The combination of his drowsy, slow mind and that Marc knew next to no spanish caused the said man’s eyebrows to crinkle. “What the fuck did you just say?” He can barely hear his own voice, but he knows Jake can.

Don’t worry about it.

“Jake.”

Marc. Only Jake would pitch up his name in a high voice: it’s a mimic.

“Hey! I don’t sound like that.”

Yeah you do.

“No, I don’t! Back me up, Steven.”

Don’t bring me into this. 

C’mon, Stevie— Jake cuts off abruptly, probably the doing of Steven.

“Jake,” Marc resists the urge to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Just tell me what you said.”

Go to sleep, puta.

“Okay, I know that one,” Marc hisses, toiling you in closer to him. “Rude.”

You deserved it.

“You wanna know what you deserve?”

Oh, yeah, Jake taunts. What’s that?

“A fucking pun–”

His voice goes legato as soon as he senses you moving, causing him to fall silent. You curl tighter into a ball, spiraling the covers more into your fists and tucking them again beneath your chin. Jake, by some miracle, also goes quiet, as if somehow his words could expel themselves out of Marc’s mouth and to your ears. 

But, the soft exhales are the only noise you left out, and if you heard them, you didn’t show it. Marc’s shoulders roll back from where they were hunched, surely Steven’s gentle gesture to the position he hadn’t even realized he’d been in. 

Would it kill the two of you to just be nice to each other? The Brit muses. 

Absolutely. Jake’s response is automatic.

“One hundred percent true.” Marc chimes in.

HAH! Steven ejects the exclamation in triumph. Now I got the two of you agreeing.

“Sure, whatever.”

Only time we agree is when you finesse us into it, hermano.

Marc slides his arm out from where it was wrapped around your waist to give the two a thumbs up in agreement with Jake, reluctantly.

Or, he tried to.

“Noooooo…” You groan groggily, tightening your hold. 

Marc freezes. “Baby?”

“Mmmmm?” 

“I- I didn’t know you were aware.”

“Well,” you snuggle closer into his chest, his warm embrace. “You ‘n Steven ‘n Jake aren’t exactly quiet when you argue.”

He sighs, guilt pooling in his stomach. “Listen, ‘m sorry. You know how we can be.”

“Yeah, I do. And I love you all,” you reach back, squeezing his bicep reassuringly. “But I also love my beauty sleep.”

“You don’t need to sleep to be beautiful.” He ducks his head to place a featherlight kiss to your neck, savoring the sigh you let out in return.

“You’re sweet, but we both know that’s not true.”

“Do we?”

“Mhm,” you turn, nudging Marc’s arms off of you as you face him. “‘M a menace without it.”

“That’s true,” he chuckles when you slap his arm, letting out an effortlessly beautiful smile. “But it’s nothing a cup of nice, warm coffee can’t solve.”

You giggle softly. “That’s true.”

“C’mon, sleepyhead,” He moves to slide you both out from under the covers. “Let’s get going.”

“Nope.” You let him go, rolling to burrito yourself in the covers again. 

“Nope?” He inquires, rounding the bed to stand over you.

“Nope.”

His shadow covers your shut eyelids and you know he’s bent over your face. “I’ll make you coffee to apologize for waking you up, baby, I promise.” You scrunch your nose. “Tempting, but no.”

“Not even because I’m asking you?”

“Not even if you were on your knees and begging.”

“Oh?” The sentence your half asleep brain had kindled clearly took him by surprise. 

You huff, flipping over in the bed dramatically. “Go away, I’m tired.”

“What’s so great about this bed that I can’t give you, huh?”

“Well,” You take a deep breath, and some small, rational part of your brain tells you that maybe the spew of words about to come out of your mouth is what he wanted to happen all along. “The bed is warm. It’s cozy. The covers are just the right heaviness and just the right thickness to provide optimal warmth and the right amount of pressure to keep me sleeping like a bear in hibernation. ‘Nd my pillow is the right firmness, but has my desired amount of sink to put me out as soon as you turn off the light and wrap your arms around me. Even though that only happens sometimes.”

Marc huffs in frustration. “Hey!”

“Yeah, Marc, my bed is always here on time. It never goes anywhere, and the only life it’s saving is your sorry ass right now.”

“Uncalled for.” He runs a hand through his hair. 

“Thought you liked a bit of banter.”

“I like a kick or two,” He leans over and pulls your shoulders to level on the bed and your eyes to meet his own. “But not at eight in the fucking morning.”

“Neither do I,” You reach up, pulling his face in for a kiss.

He gives in almost immediately, setting a knee on either side of your legs and scooping his arms underneath your body to pull you up.

“Nuh uh,” you pull away and unwrap his arms, flopping back onto the bed. “Sleepy. Time to sleep.”

“You can't leave me hanging like that!”

You yawn, pulling the covers up to your chin again. “I can and I did.”

For a second, a naive, small second, you think he’s going to leave you be. Your brain relaxes, you feel yourself on the precipice of sleep, the hypnotic, rich swirl of unconsciousness sucking you deeper into its whirlpool. But then you feel the covers lift, and Marc’s— frighteningly cold— fingers are dancing along your sides to a tune you illustrate with laughs. You slap his hands away, reaching out towards the lure of sleep that now sneaks away to taint another victim.

“You ready to get out of bed now, sweets?”

You groan, turning to face him in defeat. “You fucker.”

He throws his arms mockingly. “What’d I do?”

“You manipulated me! I hate you.”

“I did no such thing. What are these accusations?”

“You knew I would get worked up,” you sit up in the bed now, and Marc shrinks ever so slightly under the weight of your deadly stare. “You knew that would wake me up.”

“Hey, let’s calm down–”

“You knew that if you pushed the right buttons, you would get what you wanted.”

Marc’s face is ghastly, and he looks two steps away from summoning his suit and flying away.

“I warned you earlier about this, Marc, were you listening?”

He nods frantically. “Of course–”

“I’m a menace when I get woken up early.” You launch off the bed, and you might as well be Moon Knight yourself with your accuracy.

The takeaway from this event? For Marc, it’s to never try waking you up before you’ve recharged fully, or to have some coffee made ahead of when he was to attempt it. For you, though?

It’s that Marc shrieks like a little girl. 

translations (HELP I FORGOT):

es tan temprano para esta mierda - it’s too early for this shit

puta - bitch

i felt very fancy using these

[readerthatreadsss]

Worth The Wait | Steven Grant

(Inspired by the song of the same title by Kali Uchis)

Pairing: Steven Grant x fem!reader

Word Count: 6.2k

Summary: You and Steven have been roommates for a while now. But one night after being stood up by yet another guy in a string of dates gone wrong, Steven offers you some support...which sparks an interesting chain of events.

Warnings[18+ activities MDNI]: sub! (ish) Steven, dom! (ish) reader, fools in love, friends/roommates to lovers, mentions of drunk reader (but not drunk when they actually have sex, you'll see), crying (reader's drunk and starts venting for a bit, that's all), unprotected p in v sex (cloak the joker before you poke her), oral sex (steven and r receiving), Steven doubting himself mid-sex, assertive reader and awkward Steven! , choking (r receiving), riding, creampie, barely edited cause I'm really fuckin tired.

A/N: Hi. Don't ask me where I found the time or motivation to write this shit when school started back a month ago. The idea just popped into my head and my fingers didn't stop moving once I opened a draft. Note, I have a tall fem! reader x Steven in my drafts to finish so don't think I forgot!

"Steeeeven," knock knock knock, "STEVENNNN," knock knock knock−

Steven's brows furrowed beneath his reading glasses at the sound of your voice coming from outside your shared apartment door. Concern as well as confusion sprang through him instantly. You sounded drunk. Which he was sure to be the case seeing as you were sloppily knocking at the door rather than opening it with your keys.

He quickly shut the book he was reading and removed his glasses before making his way over to the door in fear that your next call of his name would wake the entire building.

Unfortunately, he opened the door at the very moment you launched your hand forward to knock once more. This caused you to tumble through the door with a drunken yelp. But Steven caught you in his arms before your body could hit the ground.

You looked up at him with a lazy smile and hooded eyes. "Thanks, Stevie bear," you hiccuped, using both hands to cling onto one of his very defined biceps. You had never realized how big and firm they were before that moment.

"You're welcome," Steven replied worriedly. He swiftly shut the door with his foot and used your grip on his arm to bring you standing back on your feet. "Y/n what the bloody hell happened to your date?"

You rolled your eyes at his question, kicking off your heels and making your way over to the couch without somehow falling again. "See now, Steven," you paused and pointed at him drunkenly, "it can't be a date if the said date doesn't even bother to show up!" you explained.

Steven sighed deeply at your explanation as he sat on the other end of the couch. This wasn't the first time this had happened to you—or him for that matter—but he could never understand why. You were easily one of the most beautiful women in London, and definitely one of the smartest, (your framed Ph.D. in psychology hanging over the television was evidence of that). You were the full package and more. Any man would be lucky to have you.

But the men of London were clearly morons if they kept standing you up or acting like complete knobs to you on your dates.

He would never do that to you. But he's seen photos of your past dates. A woman like you was way out of his league and would never go for someone like him, anyone with eyes could see that.

"How much have you had to drink?" Steven suddenly asked you.

You raised 3 fingers to the best of your ability. "Six," you answered before bursting into a fit of giggles at Steven's expression.

"Gosh, y/n, you're absolutely clobbered," he grabbed a blanket from the arm of the couch and spread it over where your short skin-tight dress was riding up your thighs.

"Well I didn't lie," you sat up abruptly, throwing the blanket off your lap and turning to face Steven and sit as crosslegged as your dress would allow, "Three of the drinks were margaritas...the other three were shots of vodka though," you admitted softly as if it were some secret for only yours and Steven's ears.

"Do you have work in the morning?" Steven questioned gently, picking up the blanket and handing it back to you. Your dress was riding up with every slight movement you made, which meant more of your thighs being exposed to him. Despite this, Steven wouldn't dare look anywhere except your eyes.

"Nope." You threw the blanket back on the floor. The night was pretty warm, you don't understand why Steven keeps giving it to you.

"Do you want me to make you some coffee or tea?"

"Yup."

Steven looked at you in question for a few seconds. "Which one?" he prodded, fighting back a smile at your muddled state.

You moved closer and narrowed your eyes, "Which one of what?" you questioned, truly confused, before breaking out into another fit of drunken giggles that caused you to momentarily tumble forward and land your hands on Steven's thighs.

"Coffee it is then," Steven answered for you, his voice traveling up an octave. He then carefully moved your hand from his thighs, trying to ignore the chills your touch sent up his spine, and hightailed it to the kitchen to put on the percolator for you.

You tilted your head as he walked away, noting how quickly he left.

When Steven returned with your cup of coffee (with cream and no sugar just how you liked it), he found you seated in the same spot but with his blanket draped over your head and body while soft sniffles and sobs met his ears.

He placed your cup on the table nearby and carefully approached your figure on the couch. Steven reached for the blanket and slowly removed it from your body.

"Why are you crying, love?" he sweetly asked once your face came into view.

"Because I'm a mess," you sniffled, using a hand to wipe the trail of tears falling from your eyes.

Steven's head tilted in disbelief at your words. "You don't really believe that, do you?"

"Yes I do," you nodded fervently, "It's why my dates have sucked for the past 2 months, it's why I got passed over for that goddamn promotion at work last week, and it's why you can't stand being around me for longer than 3 minutes these days."

Steven was taken aback by your words. You thought he couldn't stand to be around you? That's impossible.

"You practically sprinted to the kitchen!" you added after a few moments of silence.

"To make you coffee," Steven protested, gesturing to the cup lying untouched nearby.

"I saw your face," you looked down at where your hands lay in your lap.

Steven swallowed harshly. "Y/n."

You ignored his call for your attention.

"Look at me," he came closer and entangled his hands with your own in your lap, immediately causing you to look up at him with tear-stained eyes, "You are not a mess," he softly yet sternly said to you.

"Yes I am−"

"No. You are not," he interrupted your arguing, "Your dates? They're all losers for letting you slip through their hands. And if a few bad dates is fate's way of making you wait to find the one, then I think that's well worth the holdup, yeah?"

You chewed on your bottom lip anxiously before nodding in agreement.

"And as for my behavior earlier, it was−" Steven paused with a sigh fumbling for a sensible excuse, "it's your perfume."

You pulled a face that would have made Steven laugh under normal circumstances. "My perfume? You hate my perfume?"

Steven swallowed harshly. He hated lying. He wasn't even good at it. But convincing you that he couldn't bear your perfume was easier than admitting that he just couldn't handle the way your hands felt on his thighs or the way his entire body heated up when you leaned closer to him. "Yup. The smell was too much for me," he fibbed.

You rested your head in your palms, pouting slightly. "But you're the only reason I wear this perfume, Steven," you confessed, barely audible.

Steven's face fell. "What?"

"You told me that you liked it when I moved in and from then I kept buying it just because you liked it."

Steven's heart swelled at your admission. He felt like an asshole. He was no better than the losers you'd been going on dates with.

You continued to speak. You could feel words preparing to leave your lips that have been eating at you for a while, now guided by your lowered inhibitions. "And I didn't only mean just now. These past few weeks you can barely look me in my eyes, or be near me, Steven. What am I doing wrong?" your voice broke with your last words.

Steven had seen you cry a few times before. But this time was different. The look on your face was heart-wrenching. He couldn't believe that he made you feel like this.

Because he was having trouble dealing with his own feelings for you, he made you think he hated you...when it was the complete opposite.

"There's nothing wrong with you. It's all my fault," Steven said, breaking away from your gaze, feeling it pierce through him.

"I'm the one who was dumb enough to fall in love with you..." he added, only to look up and see you passed out against the arm of the couch.

A part of him was saddened that you fell asleep before hearing his confession. But another was grateful and profoundly unprepared for your inevitable rejection.

Steven looked at you for a few more seconds before carefully picking you up—smiling to himself when you curled into his chest—and carrying you to your bedroom.

° ° ° ° ° ° ° °

You woke up in a slight daze...and in someone else's bed.

It took a few glances around the room for you to piece together that you were in Steven's room.

And then all of last night's events came back to mind, seeping in and clearing the fog that your excessive alcohol consumption had sired;

Your failed date. Coming home and falling into Steven's arms. Saying way too much to Steven. Steven's last words before your body shut down.

Steven.

Steven.

Steven.

"Oh God," you mumbled, cradling your face in your hands.

Eventually, you pulled yourself out of the bed and stumbled into the bathroom for a shower. You thanked whatever higher power was at work that Steven was still asleep on the couch when you padded through the living room.

But when you finished showering and exited the bathroom, you were hit with the smell of freshly brewed coffee. You poked your head into the living room to make sure Steven was still in the kitchen before running a path straight to your room and getting dressed.

After throwing on one of your old university crew necks and the first shorts you could get your hands on (which happened to be very short ones), you heard a knock at your door followed by Steven's voice.

"Y/N? I have a cup of green tea and some painkillers here...thought you'd need them."

You found yourself smiling at the sound of his voice, something that was becoming more common in recent weeks. What did you do to deserve a man like Steven in your life?

You quickly moved to open the door and let Steven in. "Hey, Steven," you greeted him with a small smile.

He released a nervous chuckle as he presented a cup and two pills to you. "Good morning."

You took them happily, bringing them to your night table. "I'm not actually feeling very hungover," you said to him, turning to sit on your bed.

"Really? That's surprising...considering last night," Steven replied, taking a hesitant step further into your room.

"Yeah must be my tolerance and all that," you shrugged, taking interest in how Steven had yet to meet your eyes since you opened the door.

A beat of silence passed between you while you took a sip of your tea. "Steven, you can sit," you softly spoke, gesturing to your bed.

"Oh, sure," Steven took a seat at the farthest edge of your bed, maintaining a more than comfortable space between you.

"How'd I end up in your bed this morning?" you suddenly questioned. You were genuinely curious, but the reaction it garnered from Steven was more than worth it.

After a brief clear of his throat, Steven answered, "Well you sorta climbed into my bed in the middle of the night, gave me quite a scare actually, and I wanted to give you space to rest so I let you have my bed and I slept in the couch."

"Oh, I'm sorry," you frowned, a tinge of embarrassment seeping in, "Why didn't you sleep in my bed?"

"Because..." laying in your bed that smells flawlessly like you would've sent him into cardiac arrest- "the couch is more comfortable."

You nodded in understanding, placing your half-empty teacup back on the table.

"If you uh need anything," Steven stood up from your bed, slowly walking backward to the door, "just shout," he said as he turned to open the door.

"Did you mean it?"

Steven halted in place at your words, his back still facing you.

You slid off your bed and approached his oddly still figure.

Steven's throat ran dry. There's no way you could have actually heard him. Right? "What?" is all he managed to say.

You walked past him and used a hand to close the door, coming to stand in front of him. You needed to look at his face. Living with Steven for a year has taught you that he wasn't a man of many words but his face said more than enough when he couldn't. Drunk you couldn't utilize your psych degree the night before, but sober you sure could at that moment.

"Did you mean it?" you repeated, "When you said you fell in love with me?"

Steven's jaw slackened when he met your stare, that feeling of being pierced by your gaze returning. "I-"

Your eyes narrowed as you took a step closer to him, now being close enough for his nervous breaths to fan across your lips. "Because if you meant it then I would tell you that. I think..." you paused and looked away for a moment, "No, I know that I love you too."

Steven's hooded brown eyes widened. He blinked a few times, trying to will himself to wake up if this was a dream.

You bit back a small laugh at his expression before you continued. "I love how willing you were to rent some small-time therapist your extra bedroom because you heard her crying in the corner of a coffee shop that she'd been kicked out by her stupid ex-boyfriend. I love the mugs you buy me every month because you saw them and they reminded you of me. I love how you watch shitty action movies with me after every bad date I have because you want to take my mind off them. I love how much you care about...everything really. I love you, Steven Grant," an enlightened smile rested on your face as you spoke, "and I'm sorry that I spent the past year thinking everything you made me feel was platonic when the truth was that you made me feel things that no one else has. I'm an idiot Steven-"

"No," Steven's first word came, a relieved smile accompanying it, "You are not an idiot. You are the smartest person I've ever met. Smarter than me, that's for sure," at that, you both laughed, "I've spent this whole year thinking that you would never see me as anything more than your weird, boring roommate...and turns out you loved me this whole time," he ended in a soft whisper, shocked by his own conclusion. Steven found his eyes drifting down to your lips and you immediately took note of it.

You exhaled deeply before closing the gap between you and Steven, meeting his lips in a bold kiss.

Initially stunned, Steven sunk into your lips soon after, gently bringing his hands up to rest on the sides of your face.

Your brain fogged as Steven devoured your lips, an unusual confidence taking over him. You wrapped your hands around his neck and smiled into the kiss, allowing Steven to slip his tongue past your lips, tasting more of you and pulling a moan from your chest.

Steven pulled away first, feeling himself enter a state that he wouldn't dare himself to in your presence. You bit back a whine when his lips left yours, looking up at him in confusion.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," he spoke, taking a step away from you.

You licked your lips and stepped towards him. "Steven, trust me, I want to do this. I want to do a lot more than this actually," you pulled his waist flush against your body, drawing a shared moan from you both when his growing bulge pressed against your stomach.

Steven's hands flew up to grab the back of your neck and your jaw. He softly muttered your name, as a warning more than anything else.

You leaned in and pressed a kiss against the corner of his lips. "If you say no, we will stop this right now and go eat breakfast. But if you say yes, we are gonna stay here and I'm gonna let you do very bad things to my body."

Steven swallowed harshly. "God, yes," he replied, failing to swallow back a whimper at the implication of your words.

Your hands squeezed his waist as you moved back to look at his face fully. "I'm sorry, I didn't hear that Stevie," you smirked.

Steven looked down at you with adoration clear in his eyes. He couldn't believe this was really about to happen. He used his hold on your neck to pull your lips crashing into his. This kiss was a lot more hungrier than the first, with Steven now making his intentions much clearer.

"I'll take that as a yes," you grinned between kisses.

Steven groaned his agreement as he continued to kiss you.

You used your grip on his waist to push him back towards your bed, effectively breaking your kiss and causing him to land on the edge of your bed with a grunt.

Steven looked up at you through his lashes in awe as you approached him. He watched keenly as you removed your top, wearing nothing underneath, before moving to straddle his thighs. Steven made a move to touch your chest before stopping his shaky hands midair and looking at you in question.

You gently held Steven's chin up and smiled down at him. "Steven you can touch me," you reassured him. Even in an intimate moment like this, he was ever the gentleman...

Steven indulged with a sheepish smile and brought both his palms to each of your breasts. Unable to help himself, Steven dove in and took one of your nipples in his mouth, swirling his tongue around the hardened bud.

"Fuck, Steven," you moaned, eyes slamming shut at how good it felt. Your words only seemed to egg him on further as Steven switched to your other breast, his lips and tongue moving against it with more enthusiasm.

Your hands at the back of his neck grabbed fistfuls of his curls while his ministrations against your chest pulled more moans and whines from your lips.

Some time after, you pulled Steven's lips away from your breasts and met them in a searing kiss, pressing your clothed cunt down against his erection. "Shit," Steven lowly cursed, bringing his hands to your waist to grind you down further against his bulge.

You obliged with a moan, grinding in Steven's lap harder. "Tell me what you want, Steven," you whispered against his lips.

Steven's hands squeezed your waist harshly when your lips began sucking against his throat. He could barely put together thoughts at the moment, much less words.

You trailed a hand down to the waistband of Steven's sweats and slowly reached under it for his cock. You swallowed a moan when your hand traced his full length and girth. "You've been holding out on me Steven," you chuckled against his neck.

Steven blushed furiously at your words. "Thank you?" he responded awkwardly, barely functioning with your hand rubbing along his cock.

You chuckled once again, pulling away from his neck to look at him. "You're so pretty," you said, causing another wave of red to hit Steven's cheeks.

"No one's ever said that to me before," he admitted softly.

"Well that's okay, cause I want to be the only one who makes you blush like this," you grinned brushing a stray curl from his forehead, "I bet your cock is just as pretty," your hand picked up speed beneath Steven's pants, "Can I see it? Please?"

Steven nodded enthusiastically. "Anything you want," he said with a desperation that had your pussy throbbing with need. You briefly lifted your hips allowing Steven to clumsily slide off his sweatpants and boxers and step out of them.

Once you returned to your position on his thighs, you looked down at his cock, the head already dripping with small beads of precum. The length was truly unexpected, as well as the girth. You would do anything to feel him inside you.

But for now, you really wanted to taste him.

Steven watched you sink to your knees before him, your eyes never straying from his.

"Are you sure you want to-"

"Steven you said anything I wanted," you paused, gliding your fingers over his length and watching it twitch in response, "And I really want to taste you. Can I suck your cock, Steven?"

Steven's breathing picked up as he took in the image before him; you on your knees, touching his dick while literally begging to suck it with a look in your eyes he could only compare to the look of a wild female tiger eyeing her freshly caught meal in the nature documentary he watched the week before.

"Please, please do," his response came soon after.

You began with a kiss to the head of his cock that made it immediately jump in your hand. You couldn't help but chuckle, and it was a sound that Steven hoped would be the last thing he heard before he left this earth. "You're so sensitive, Stevie," you cooed before pressing another kiss but to the base of his length.

Steven released a sharp moan at both of your kisses to his cock, finding himself embarrassingly close to cumming already.

"Please," he pleaded your name with a whine, "stop teasing."

You swirled your tongue around the head where precum had gathered, moaning in time with your movements and drawing yet another mewl from Steven. "Oh but Stevie, I just love hearing you say please," you teased him, looking up from where you had a hand wrapped around his base and another briefly caressing his balls.

Steven was now panting, his eyes never leaving you as you held him. He watched you slowly wrap your lips around his tip before slowly sinking down.

After reaching a little more than halfway down Steven's cock, you felt yourself gag but simply stilled instead of removing yourself completely.

"Fucking hell," Steven grunted before melding into a pathetic moan once you held your position. You eventually let up when you almost ran out of air and slowly removed your lips from his dick, your eyes meeting his with tears streaming along your face from the stretch.

You were prepared to do it once again but felt Steven's palm grab your chin before you could. "No, love, please. If you do that again I'm afraid I'm not gonna last."

Steven watched you lick your lips before shifting to trap his thumb in between your lips and softly suck on it. He couldn't stop the whine that slipped his lips at your action.

You eventually released his thumb from the confines of your mouth and came to stand over him with a smile. "Well then. Tell me what you want to do next. I'm all yours, baby, remember?"

Steven brought his hands to rest on your hips and leaned forward to press a soft kiss against your stomach. "I-uhh," his brows furrowed and he shook his head briefly as if sending away a thought.

"What is it, Steven?"

The man beneath you looked up to meet your eager eyes, suddenly confident enough to say what he wanted. "I really...really want to taste you."

You felt your breath hitch at his request. It was rare for a man to enthusiastically offer to go down on you. Though it was clear to you now that Steven was most definitely a rare man.

"You want to?" you felt your voice come out a lot more unsure than usual.

Steven's brows furrowed once again as a fleeting smile graced his lips at your response. "Of course I do, sweetheart. Do men not usually..."

You harshly exhaled. "I mean some do but I usually have to complain first or they do it cause they want me to return the favor," you admitted.

"They don't deserve you. No one does," Steven softly uttered, gazing up at you with eyes you were growing more fond of by the minute.

You quickly leaned down to meet him in a kiss in response. You didn't deserve him either.

Steven pulled you back into his lap and kissed you back eagerly. But he was the first to pull away, causing you to whine in a way that made his cock jump against your cunt. "I-I really did mean it, love, I need to taste you. Now."

You had never seen Steven so demanding. It had you throbbing in anticipation. You allowed him to lay you on your back and peel away your shorts and panties to reveal the part of you where you needed him most.

Steven looked starstruck as he examined your arousal. He moved closer and closer to your pussy, letting his warm breath fan over your glistening lips.

"Steven please-" you begged, though you couldn't finish your thought before your voice broke into a loud moan when Steven licked a stripe from your entrance to your swollen clit.

Steven closed his eyes, relishing his first taste of you. It was everything he'd quite literally dreamed of and more.

And so, he eagerly dived into your core.

Your hands flew to Steven's head working between your legs as your thighs instinctively closed around his head from the sudden wave of pleasure surging through you.

The feeling of your thighs trapping his head against your pussy was absolute bliss to Steven. He moaned into you as his tongue swirled around your clit sloppily. If he was inexperienced, you couldn't tell because every movement of his tongue brought you closer and closer to your release.

The vibrations of Steven's enjoyment drew a brief scream from your chest before you slapped a hand over your lips to silence it.

Steven finally came up for air, his lips and jaws covered in your slick. His curls were strewn along his forehead by a damp layer of sweat as his dilated pupils met your own. "C'mon. I want to hear those pretty noises you make for me, love," he said before running two of his fingers through your folds to gather some of your wetness and slowly inserting them into you.

"Oh my-STEVEN" your back arched up and off your bed as you felt immediately filled up by Steven's digits.

Steven gauged your reactions as he slowly removed his fingers before pushing them again with no resistance due to your arousal. "I've wanted this for so long, love," he began to speak as he slowly leaned down to press his lips against your clit in a kiss, "Wanted to hear you moaning my name," he sped up his fingers' movements inside you, "Wanted to taste you," he added another finger, now touching that spot inside your walls with every thrust, "You're so beautiful," he ended before fully diving back in with his tongue against your bud.

"Yes—fuck—you're so good to me baby," you finally gathered enough breath to speak while gaining a proper grip on his head. With every sharp lick or nip he'd make, you would tighten your grip on his hair and it would only spur him on further. It was only a matter of seconds from there before...

"Shit, I'm gonna cum, Steven," you called out, looking down to meet where he was already staring up at you, and speeding up his fingers and tongue's ministrations against you.

He held your stare once he felt your walls clench around his fingers and heard your moan melt into a scream.

"Fuck, fuck, FUCK," you shouted as your orgasm slammed into you thanks to Steven's eager tongue and fingers.

Steven watched your chest slow its heaving when your climax subsided and removed his fingers but couldn't stop himself from licking the remnants of your release from your folds. It was as if he was trying to work you up to another orgasm.

"Shit Steven wait," you mewled, attempting to close your legs from overstimulation. But Steven used strength you'd never known him to have to shove your legs back open and hold them in place, clearly intent on tasting every bit of what you had to offer.

Your eyes widened. "Holy fuck," you removed both your hands from Steven's head and ran them over your face and boobs. He was driving you absolutely insane. If it weren't for his grip on your legs you would be trembling beneath him.

It wasn't long before a second orgasm crept up on you, one more powerful than the last. Your lips parted in a silent scream as your climax washed over your entire body, from your thighs to your feet, to the base of your fucking spine.

Steven couldn't help but stare as he cleaned you up for the last time with his tongue. He couldn't believe he got to see this. To make you feel like this.

Your high subsided soon after and you released a sharp exhale followed by a laugh of disbelief.

Steven moved from his position on his knees before you to hover above you on your bed. "You okay, love?" he questioned in concern

You responded to his question with a satisfied grin. "I'm great, Stevie," you spoke before meeting his lips in a sweet kiss, "But..."

Steven's face fell at your words. He slowly moved from above you to lay next to you, scared to meet your eyes. "I did something wrong didn't I? Or did I forget to do something? I'm sorry-" he rambled, immediately doubting himself.

But his words died in his throat when you turned and caressed his cheek with a hand, your grin still present on your face. "You did nothing wrong," you insisted, "That was no doubt one of the best orgasms of my entire life."

Steven looked away and laughed at your confession. "You don't have to say that to make me feel better."

"I mean it, Steven," your voice grew stern, "That was fucking incredible."

Steven couldn't even formulate a response.

"What I was going to say was," you broke his silence, "I promised you could do bad things to my body and you haven't done nearly enough for me," you ended with a smirk.

Steven grunted when he felt your fingertips run along his cock.

"Don't you want to fuck me, Steven?" you questioned innocently while completely wrapping your hand around and stroking Steven's dick.

He nodded quickly, his bottom lip held between his teeth as he tried not to react to how soft your hand felt around his painfully hard cock. "I do. So badly, love."

You released him and brought a hand over to grab Steven's neck before using your grip to pull him back to his previous position above you. "Then fuck me, Steven. I need you to fuck me," you whispered.

Steven wasted no time in grabbing his length and lining himself up with your entrance. "Are you sure?" he checked in with you once more.

You jerked your hip in the direction of his cock in an effort to fill yourself up but to no avail. You were so damn desperate you didn't care how you sounded. "Yes Steven, please, I need you to fill me up. Fill me up baby, c'mon," you whined hurriedly.

"Well who am I to deny you of what you want, love?" he replied before slowly guiding himself into you.

He immediately groaned at the feeling of your walls squeezing him. "Heavens, love, you're so—aghh—tight," he grunted.

Your moans were never-ending as he sunk into you inch by inch. The stretch was briefly painful but it hurt so good you didn't care.Steven stopped halfway in and leaned down to press a kiss against your forehead. "You're taking me so well, sweetheart," he praised you.

You bit your lip at his praise. "More, Steven, keep going."

Steven obliged and fully sunk into you with one last push. Your moans mixed in the air at the sudden change. "You feel so good inside me Steven, oh my God-" you cried out.

You nearly choked on air when Steven slowly pulled out of your heat before slamming back into you.

"SHIT," you both cursed together before opening your eyes to look at each other.

"Faster, baby, I can take it I promise," you nodded, bringing your hands up to the sides of Steven's face. You even wrapped your legs around Steven's waist.

Steven took a deep breath before pulling out and rutting into you again, now establishing a pace. Which every thrust inside your cunt, Steven grazed your g-spot, effortlessly. It was as if you were built for his cock.

"Fuckin' love the way you fuck me, Steven," you mumbled as Steven set a brutal pace inside you.

Steven leaned down to press his forehead against yours as he continued to fuck you. Your breathing seemed to sync as he pulled out moan after moan from you.

His hands rested at the sides of your head but you could feel them inching closer to your neck.

Your pussy clenched around him at the thought of him choking you. Steven faltered in his thrusts in response. "Love you're squeezing me so hard I don't think I'm gonna last."

"Do it," you called out, tilting your head toward one of his hands.

"What?"

"I can see you thinking about it. Choke me, baby," your chest heaved as you felt your third orgasm of the night approaching.

Steven hesitated for a second before he stopped his thrusts and brought a shaky hand to wrap around your throat.

"I trust you, Steven," you spoke truthfully, "I want this too," you brought a hand to rest over Steven's briefly in reassurance.

Steven began roughly pounding you again with his hand now squeezing around your neck.

"Fuck yes, holy shit," you breathed out, feeling your eyes nearly roll to the back of your head with the newly added feeling of Steven's large hand wrapped around your throat. making you see stars.

Steven, although shocked by your immediate enjoyment of his secret guilty pleasure, took it as a sign to continue. So he trusted faster but made sure to maintain the same amount of pressure on your neck. He then got the idea to use his free hand to reach down and fiddle with your clit while fucking you.

You were instantly thrown over the edge. You came with as best a scream of Steven's name as you could manage with his hand still choking you. Chills ran down your spine while Steven slowed his thrusts inside you and waited for your orgasm to pass.

Eventually, you felt Steven release your neck and slowly begin to remove his cock from your cunt. You tightened your legs around his waist in protest. "Uh uh, we're not stopping till you come inside me, Steven," you demanded.

Steven loved the way you'd been taking control throughout all of this. He'd do anything you asked without a thought. "That's fine with me love," he nodded with a lopsided grin.

"Good," you deeply inhaled before using your hold on his waist to roll him onto his back, with you now straddling him.

You smiled at his shocked expression, which soon morphed into excitement. "You're bloody amazing," he grinned up at you.

You fought the heat that crawled onto your cheeks at his words and looked away with a smile. "Stop sweet talking me and fuck me, Steven."

He nodded quickly, "Yes ma'am." Steven slipped back into your entrance slowly.

But you grew impatient and fully sat down on his cock, loving how full he made you feel. Steven's cries met your ears soon after.

You grabbed his hands and placed each on one of your breasts before beginning to properly ride him. Steven heeded your directions and pawed at your chest while thrusting up to meet your hips.

His grunts soon became whimpers and whines as you rode him harder and faster, eager to make him cum.

"I'm almost there, love," he cried before sitting up and pulling you into his chest. His hands moved down to grip your waist where he guided you faster along his cock.

"There you go, Steven," you held his face against your own as his pace grew sloppy and his brown eyes slid shut.

"Cum for me, baby," you softly spoke with one last grind of your hips. Steven halted inside you with a broken sob of your name and filled you up with his warm release.

You moaned at the feeling of his spend coating your inner walls and leaned down to press a kiss to the top of his head. "You did so good Steven."

"I love you," his eyes finally opened while he panted, looking up at you with vulnerable eyes as if scared that you wouldn't feel the same after what you had just done together.

"I love you too," you replied without hesitation. You gently shoved Steven onto his back and followed suit, laying down on his chest as you gently removed his softening cock from inside you. You felt his hands move to wrap around your body soon after, bringing you further into his body.

Steven was the first to speak after some time. "I think you're the best thing that's happened to me in a really long time," he admitted, turning to look at you, not at all phased by the exhaustion in your features.

You leaned up to meet Steven in a heated kiss. He tightened his hold on you and met your lips with equal fervor. You pulled away reluctantly and looked down at his face with furrowed brows as you used a hand to trace his jaw and swollen lips. "Where have you been hiding my entire life, Steven Grant?"

"Haven't been hiding, love. I've just been here waiting for you."

° ° ° ° ° ° ° °

WHEW! This ABSOLUTELY got away from me holy shit. 6k words? yeah, not the plan at all. But hey it's definitely something considering that I haven't been able to sit down and write anything till tonight.

So I really do hope you enjoyed it.

(Lemme go look back through my requests and see what else I can cook up.)

[moonpascaltoo]

POE DAMERON

╰┈➤ 18+ none of these stories belong to me! this is a masterlist of all poe dameron stories i’ve read and reblogged! just thought it would be nice to have them all in one spot! (if your fic is on here and you wish not to be, please let me know!) some will have summaries if provided <3

MASTERLIST ✩ OSCAR ISAAC CHARACTERS ✩ 05/05/24

@theowritesstuff ☼ the droid problem

@eyelessfaces ☼ love bites ☼ us, now you and poe always promised to act on your feelings towards each other once the war is over. this time has come. ☼ uncalled for you get quite upset when poe "saves" your assigned mission by giving orders to your teams without consulting you; poe is determined to fix his mistake.

@whirlybirbs ☼ why are you crying ☼ risks cadet!reader & poe dameron butt heads after a mission ☼ damsel doing damage

@the-little-ewok ☼ an unorthodox method 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. ☼ a little help Poe brings BB-8 to you every week insisting something is wrong but you can never find anything, His droid is always in perfect condition. But BB-8 has decided his master needs a little help with you…

@youvebeenlivingfictional ☼ heartless When you landed at the Resistance base on D’Qar, you had nothing but the clothes on your back, your mother’s heart pendant, and fifteen credits in your pocket.  ☼ effective Your family loves to rib you for being single. This Christmas, you learn that bringing your best friend Poe with you can make the holiday a little more enjoyable. ☼ the stars ☼ the force Staring at each other’s lips for a moment before moving closer, as if drawn together by some unseen force

@campingwiththecharmings ☼ invisible string You're a new medic in the Resistance and you keep running into a certain pilot in the medbay. ☼ never have i ever Before you can talk yourself out of it, you grab one of the shots in front of you and down it, coughing a little as the alcohol burns down your throat. As you set the glass back on the table, you slowly meet your best friend’s gaze. He stares at you with slightly narrowed eyes, his lips parted as he absently tongues the inside of his cheek. “You’re messing with me.” ☼ fo!reader (co written w/ @runa-falls ) ☼ some like it hot

@softlyspector ☼ hard landings Everybody in the kriffin galaxy seems to know you...Except for Poe.

@januaryembrs ☼ hot under the helmet Poe finds out the hard way the best mechanic in the resistance is also most beautiful woman he’s ever seen; too bad you’re so hot headed. 

@jake-g-lockley ☼ did you meant it? ☼ feels “you are, without a doubt, the most annoying person i've ever crossed paths with. and don't even get me started on the sound of your voice." and "please shut up. i can't stand how appealing your voice is."

@reallyrallyauthor ☼ sunk ☼ the promotion When you parents call you home to marry someone you’ve never met, you turn to your best friend, Poe, for help

@ichorai ☼ working in the dark poe should know better than to sneak up on you in the dark.

@bensolosbluesaber ☼ something forgotten Poe Dameron is the love of your life, but he can’t remember you. Still, Poe finds himself drawn to you and seeing flashes of a life he has forgotten. ☼ in the stars It took all your strength to save Poe Dameron. As you lay unconscious in the medbay, his real feelings come out.

@starryeyedstories ☼ one kiss Poe likes you. You like him. You’ve sworn to yourself you won’t get involved with anyone until the war is over. Poe has sworn to himself that he’ll get you to kiss him before then. ☼ black leader, shutting up Poe loves missions, especially when you’re manning the comm systems.

@batshitbimbo ☼ crush one moment he was just some pilot and the next he was your Poe.

@my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction ☼ tangerine, tangerine ☼ move over You let Poe share your bed when he's too drunk to go back to his own room. He, however, can't seem to stop himself from taking up all the space humanly possible.

@foxilayde ☼ nine ten, eleven, twelve Idiots in love. You’re the idiot, mainly. You happen to hear something quite salacious about your bestie. And oooh boy, are you awful at keeping your shit together.

@spctrsgf ☼ late another day, another mission where poe is (not just a little) late.

@angel-of-the-moons ☼ baby wings Poe teaching reader who’s a new pilot for the resistance some of his tips on flying.

@happyhauntt ☼ fight or flight you and poe have never seen eye-to-eye. most days, you wonder if you ever will.

@marc-spectorr ☼ come alive

@melodygatesauthor ☼ boundaries Commander Poe Dameron has a bit of a reputation in the Resistance. When your crew acquires a group of refugees in need of transport, General Organa is happy to oblige, but that just means that some people have to give up their beds on the ship and share...you being one of those people. ☼ break your fall When Commander Poe Dameron jumps you while you're on a ladder, you unfortunately fall backward and land on his gorgeous face. While you're grateful he broke your fall, you feel terrible that you may have ruined his Valentine's Day date and do your best to make it up to him.

@freelancearsonist ☼ even in the quietest moments Poe in which he and the reader are secretly dating? ☼ i don’t hate you

@dameronalone ☼ request

@ozarkthedog ☼ coquet CEO!Poe doesn’t take kindly to you flirting with a co-worker in front of him.

@writefightandflightclub ☼ less sass, flyboy, shut up and kiss me you’re friends with Poe, but you dream of more. Dreams can be painful things though, when there’s little chance of them coming true. ☼ a cut above the rest five times you cut Poe Dameron’s hair.

@leiakenobi ☼ graceless (ft. din djarin) “Two bad men, just nice enough to treat you right. Is that what you want?” (A young spice runner named Poe picks you up at a bar and takes you back to his ship. When an older member of his crew walks in on you, your one-night stand goes in a very different direction than you’d anticipated. Takes place in 20 ABY.)

@lilacliquors ☼ all the time in the galaxy

@dailyreverie ☼ your wish is my command Poe Dameron, the brand new Commander of the Resistance, is everything you have ever dreamt of: charming handsome, talented, and so completely in love with you. So what could possibly keep you apart from him? Maybe the target on both your backs, maybe the war, or maybe the fact that your mother is General Organa and dating her daughter, and her most beloved pilot, is something not even you two are brave enough to do. ☼ if i survive another night Right before a mission Poe wants gives you his mother's ring, you make him promise to come back to give it to you, with a proper proposal after you are both back. But you disappear during the mission, and Poe is left to grieve you just to find you years later with a promise still hanging in the air and a ring still hanging around his neck.

@jadefromwattpad ☼ scott street

[lizispunkk]

Guys he’s so beautiful I cannot anymore chat

[the-offside-rule]

S.G, M.S, J.L (Moonknight) - The Three of You & Me

Requested: gotta love the moonknight ppl

Warnings: not really no

Steven Grant fumbled with his keys at the door of the flat, the heavy thunk of the lock finally giving way as the door creaked open. His face showed a mixture of exhaustion and that unmistakable, endearing Steven charm; hair a bit tousled and his shirt wrinkled from a long day at the museum. He stepped inside with a weary sigh, tossing his bag by the door and kicking off his shoes, not caring where they landed. “Ridiculously tired doesn’t even cover it.” He muttered as he spotted his girlfriend, Y/n, sat on the couch with a blanket draped over her legs. He trudged over and collapsed next to her with a gentle thud, head immediately falling onto her lap. Y/n chuckled, her fingers tussling through his hair as his eyes shuttered shut, his body relaxing into the comfort of her presence.

“Love, you wouldn’t believe the day I’ve had.” Steven groaned, his voice tired yet animated as he began to recount the day’s events. His hand traced absentminded patterns on her arm, seeking comfort as much as he was giving it. “So, yeah, Donna’s been on me all day. She goes, ‘Steven, I need you to catalog all these artifacts before lunch,’ right? And I’m thinking, that’s impossible. She’s giving me-" He paused dramatically, lifting his head slightly to make his point. "Mummified cats! Actual ancient felines, Y/n. Who just tosses that at someone before lunch?” He shook his head in disbelief before lowering it back against her shoulder. “And the tourists, don’t get me started. Asking me questions like I run the whole museum. I’ve had to tell people ‘I'm not a bloody tour guide’ at least six times today, because Donna like, freaks out when I go about 'nattering' on about Egypt.”

Y/n smiled softly, letting him rant, knowing he needed this space to unwind. She ran her fingers through his hair as he spoke, his voice growing softer with each complaint, the day clearly catching up with him. His eyelids drooped, his words becoming slower and less coherent. “I don’t know how you put up with me.” He mumbled sleepily, already half-asleep in her arms. She kissed the top of his head gently. “Because I love you, Steven.” He muttered something unintelligible, trailing off as sleep finally claimed him. His body relaxed completely, his breathing becoming slow and steady.

But after a minute, Y/n felt the subtle shift she had come to recognize. Steven’s body tensed slightly, his muscles twitching in a way that was different from the usual sleep movements. His breathing changed, becoming deeper, more controlled. When his eyes fluttered open again, they no longer carried the soft, dreamy expression she knew from Steven.

Marc Spector was awake now.

Y/n smiled knowingly as his gaze met hers, his expression focused and alert. Marc gave her a small, almost apologetic smile as he stretched, cracking his neck with a quiet sigh. “Hello, Marc.” She greeted him softly. Marc’s lips tugged into a brief smile. “Hey.” He replied, rubbing the back of his neck. “Sorry about that. Steven was exhausted.” He chuckled. “Yeah, I could tell.” Y/n said with a chuckle, watching him stand up from the couch and head to the kitchen. “You hungry?” Marc asked, already rummaging through the fridge, pulling out ingredients without much thought. “I can make something.”

“Sure, I could eat.” She replied, leaning back into the couch, content to watch him move around the kitchen with the ease of someone used to taking over when needed. In a matter of minutes, Marc had whipped up a plate of grilled cheese. He sighed as he plopped down beside her, handing her the plate and grabbing the control for the TV. "I expected some alfredo or something." Y/n joked. "You said you were starved, pasta takes too long to make." Marc replied, the quiet hum of the television filling the space. "How righteous. You sure it's not because you can't cook?" He scoffed. "Steven can't cook, I made our food before you came along." He said, putting the control down and grabbing a half.

After dinner, Marc flipped through the channels yet again, landing on something mindless, and sat back down, pulling Y/n close as they watched TV. But even Marc couldn’t stave off sleep forever. He yawned, stretching as he set the remote down and leaned back into the couch. “Guess it’s my turn to knock out.” He murmured, his voice rough with fatigue. Y/n smiled, brushing her hand through his hair. “Goodnight, Marc.” He mumbled something in response, already slipping into sleep. But it didn’t last long before that familiar shift happened again—his body changing, his posture becoming more relaxed yet somehow more confident. When his eyes opened this time, they held a sharp, mischievous gleam.

Jake Lockley was awake.

Y/n couldn’t help but smirk at the sudden change in his demeanor. “Buenos días, Jake.” she said with a teasing smile, despite the fact that it was still very much night-time. “Buenos días.” Jake replied with a chuckle, heading straight for the coffee machine. He moved with a smooth, confident ease that was completely distinct from either Steven or Marc. “Coffee? At this hour?” Y/n asked, raising an eyebrow as he poured himself a cup, the rich aroma filling the room. “I’ve got a job to do.” Jake said, taking a sip and leaning casually against the counter, his dark eyes focused on her. "Cab driving or cab driving." He chuckled. “Don't worry about it, cariño. Won’t be long.” He said finishing the cup of coffee and placing it in the sink. "Marc will clean this later, right?" She chuckled. "He won't like it but probably." He nodded along, the corners of his lips tugging upward. "Vale, hasta luego, cariño." He was about to reach for the door handle when he felt a delicate hand on his arm. “Be careful, okay?” Jake’s grin softened just a bit, his rough exterior giving way as he leaned down to press a gentle kiss to her temple. “Siempre tengo cuidado. No te preocupes por esa carita bonita.” He murmured, his voice low and full of quiet reassurance. “I’ll be back before you know it.”

She nodded, watching as he grabbed his jacket and headed for the door. He gave her one last glance, his expression full of unspoken promises, before slipping out into the night. The flat felt a little quieter with him gone, but Y/n knew better than to worry. Jake always came back, and she’d be waiting for him.

[bowie-frommars]

Don't think about quietly celebrating Marc Spector's birthday. Don't think about how the apprehensive look would slip off his face when you bring out the cake you made just for him. Don't think about how his entire being would soften as you gently sing him happy birthday. Don't think about how for the first time in a long time he feels loved on his birthday. Don't think about the look on his face when you make him blow out the candles. Don't think about-

[blue-sadie]

Wavering

Imagine:

Dating oscar isaac and him taking you to one of his premieres but you get nervous infront of big crowds even more so as you get a thousand questions thrown your way and he sees you hand trembling so he grabs it and whispers in your ear.

"Your doing great mi amor your doing so well, I saw an exit around the corner we can go home if you need, we can go home order from your favorite restaurant and binge watch our favorites"

[downbadf0rficppl]

how to save a life

Poe Dameron x Ex-First Order!Reader

Summary: It took a lot of courage to escape from the grasp of the First Order, and even more to deliver yourself to the Resistance. But you did it. Months later - still not trusted by anyone in the Resistance - you vie to prove yourself once and for all. The perfect opportunity comes up when Mr. Face-of-the-damn-Resistance needs help.

Word Count: 3.5K

Warnings: Canon-level violence, injury, near-death experiences, mugging/street violence, Leia being mean because she's being protective, imprisonment.

Repost

It took a lot of gall to double cross the First Order. You had been stolen from your home planet as a baby and indoctrinated into the regime - you knew nothing else. You were strong with force. Supreme Leader Snoke was keen to have you on his side. He kept you as a prisoner - forced to do his bidding and his dirty work, with the threat of death looming over your head. You were too young to understand that Supreme Leader Snoke couldn’t afford to have you killed, no matter how often he threatened it.

You had escaped on a regular morning, using your standing as one of Snoke’s own to commandeer a ship and escape with a fleet that were on their way to deal with Resistance scum on a nearby moon. You landed over a mile away from the other Stormtroopers, your officer uniform making you stand out like a sore thumb. You ripped your jacket up, tearing it to shreds before throwing it into the trees.

The trek into the city was long, but you used it to disguise yourself further, untucking your shirt and ripping the sleeves, before rubbing dirt into your clothes and cheeks. With the few credits you hand and your First Order military pass, you managed to barter a ship that would allow you to get off the moon unnoticed.

You set off early in the morning, heading further into the outer rim where there was less and less First Order patrol.

You landed on one of the busiest planets of all: Daiyu. Daiyu was a planet known for its thriving underworld dealings - despite the First Order's many attempts to get it under control. No one would find you there. You hid amongst the low lives, stealing little to get by and trying not to draw any attention to yourself. You may have grown up in the shelter of the Supreme Leader’s gaze, but you knew the force. And you knew how to hide in it.

It took a lot of energy to hide yourself from the force. Especially considering Supreme Leader Snoke knew who you were, what you felt like. He reached out to you in the force, finger scraping you but never quite holding you long enough to gain a full picture. In the beginning, it had been hard to keep him out of your head when you were asleep - returning to the force always felt like the most natural state. A state of peace and serenity, an escape from the danger you had to evade at every waking minute.

No doubt, Snoke would send scouts out to find you. And when that failed, he'd put a pricey bounty on your head. You were right.

You'd met all sorts of hoodlums in Daiyu, and been beaten up by most of them too. But you wouldn't risk making yourself known to any of them by fighting back. Not when so many were looking for you. At the beginning, the price had been low - reasonable for someone of your lack of class and standing - but the price increased exponentially each day that passed.

It was months before you decided to venture back into living and not just hiding. You'd been monitoring the airwaves - the bounty on your head was reducing everyday - the value not nearly enough to pique the interests of the men of Daiyu. Clearly, Snoke had found someone else to chase.

You slowly allowed yourself to become one with the force again, practicing your mastery of it only when you knew others weren't watching - even if Snoke wasn't looking for you, Daiyu was the kind of place where even your friends would sell you out if they had something to gain from it. And you had no friends in Daiyu. You kept yourself blocked from the minds of Snoke and his protege, Kylo Ren, showing them misdirection every time they cast a net out for you. Your mastery was improving.

You found a job at a scrapping plant - measly pay but it was better than nothing. You clocked in and out at the same time every day, collecting your pay and rationing whatever you could buy with it. You still napped lightly in alleyways, avoiding the police officers who patrolled the streets at night to kick the homeless out of doorways.

You woke up to the ways of the real world really fast. The world was full of bad people with bad intentions. They beat you up in a back alley behind the plant, stealing your credits and your clothes before the whirring approach of police officers scared them away. You ran from the police too - not wanting to be turned into the First Order for disciplining.

The police officers were hot on your tail. You ran through the streets and the market, trying to find a place to hide. You dove into one of the mooring decks - where pilots would land their craft for the duration of their visit. You covered the identifiable logo on your chest with your arms, crossing them to seem more intimidating. You waited for the police to drive past before running in the opposite direction. Straight into the chest of someone.

He grabbed your arm tightly, leading you into another back alley. Shit. You were probably gonna be beaten up again or escorted to the police. You tried to struggle out of his grip, but it was vice-like around your arm. He clamped his other hand around your mouth, looking around for danger, presumably. You looked up at his face.

You knew that face. You'd seen it more than once in Kylo Ren's memories, and also posters around Coruscant when you were younger. Poe Dameron. The face of the Resistance.

He loosened his grip around you, as he reached up to speak into his comms. "Got a deserter. Gonna bring 'em in." Your heart plummeted. He marched you into the mooring deck, before grabbing some cuffs out of his plane. No one did a double-take. The security in Daiyu was far from the best. He cuffed your hands in front of you, before pushing you into the ship.

It was cramped inside the U-Wing, it wasn't built to seat 2 people. You sat huddled behind his seat, holding on for dear life when he took off and jumped to light speed. You groaned as you hit your head, which Poe gave a sympathetic 'sorry' to.

As you draw closer and closer to D'Qar, you feel a calming wave flow through you. It was as if someone was emitting a beacon for you to latch on to. You knew this feeling. Leia. You had known for years that Leia was strong with the force. She had to be, given Kylo Ren's prowess. But you didn't know just how strong she truly was. You tried to reach out to her through the force, but Poe interrupted you.

"10 minutes to landing. General Organa is expecting you."

The calmness evaporated. General Organa's presence in the force may be calming but you knew of her reputation as the General of the Resistance. She was ruthless.

They threw you into a holding cell - which realistically was just a room that didn’t unlock from the inside. You sat there alone - plagued by your own mind for the better part of the day. Each time footsteps passed by your door, you panicked. This is it. This is the end.

It was always a false alarm.

Someone was walking by, scurrying to briefings they were late for, or heading to the droid mechs because, ‘the damn droid went rolling into a wall again! That’s the third time this week!’

You don’t see Poe again - he’s a captain of the Resistance, you reason, he has better things to do than babysit a hostage. Because that’s what you were to them. Deserter or not, you weren’t one of their guys. And that made you dangerous.

You focussed your energy on trying to find Leia - maybe you could understand how to help her if you knew what her problems were. You needed her to trust you, that was the only way you’d be safe. You couldn’t find her between all the buzzing energies of the force. It was overwhelmingly loud. You pulled yourself away from the search, breathing heavy as you came down. You’d never been good at finding people in the force who didn’t want to be found.

A petite blonde woman came as the sun was setting, in her arms a tray full of food. You gorged yourself on it. The Resistance may not have had much but one thing they did have was good food. At least, better food than the First Order.

Leia walked in just as you were finished eating - she’d been waiting for you to finish, hoping that they’re small morsel of kindness would earn enough trust for you to tell them what they wanted to know.

She started softly, asking you questions about yourself and your role within the First Order. You told her half truths - you had been stolen from your home planet as a child and had been raised to be a spy for the First Order. Leia frowned at that, the small pieces of trust you had gained immediately being withdrawn.

She started to ask more interrogatory questions. What were the First Order planning? How were they expanding? Future targets?

You told them the truth. You didn’t know.

The truth wasn’t good enough.

Leia once again asked about the First Order’s plans. You didn’t know. She asked for the whereabouts of Snoke. You didn’t know. She asked, discretely, about her son. You didn’t know.

After an hour going head-to-head, yours was pounding. You’d been resisting her in the force and she was much stronger than you. Much more well practiced too. Your vision started to cloud as you begged her to believe you.

The First Order was good at compartmentalising. Only the people that needed to know, did. And you almost never needed to. Especially since Kylo Ren deemed you a flight risk - rightfully so, seeing as it was always your intention to escape.

Leia left the cell grumbling under her breath, muttering about how the First Order was insufferable. For all her abilities, she didn’t seem to pick up on the fact that you were strong with the force. All the better; less things to explain.

They kept you confined to the cell for quite a while after that. To be fair to the Resistance, they treated their prisoners far better than the First Order did. You had a feeling that they didn’t have much in the way of prisoners - given the lack of purpose built holding cells in the facility.

Your room was big - there was enough space to move around, keep active, meditate. There was a small fresher in the corner of the room and the bed you had was far more comfortable than the one you slept in every night on Star Destroyers. The light streamed in through the small window, and like clockwork, some poor person would bring you a meal every morning, noon, and night.

Aside from this though, you were bored. Inconceivably bored. You’d never had this much time to yourself before. Being under Snoke’s unrelenting gaze meant that you were always working - either practicing, or proving your worth. You had none of that anymore.

You spent the majority of your day honing your tracking skills. You tried to pick out people you knew - those with distinct feels. Those like Poe Dameron.

Poe had been on a new mission since the day after you landed on D’Qar - you’d asked one of the nicer people who brought you food a week after you arrived. He’d returned to Daiyu, trying to find an ex-First Order arms dealer. You had given a little information about the guy - how he was hiding from the First Order since abandoning their efforts to weaponise their young. That had earned you a little more favour in the eyes of the Resistance, but you were still fighting an uphill battle. It was no matter. You were safe here.

You felt him before anyone else. He had come out of hyperspace and wasn’t requesting permission to enter the airspace. You jumped out of bed. Something was wrong, you could feel it.

Poe had run into quite a bit of trouble on Daiyu. The intel you had given him was good. Not just good, it was great. They’d got some of the information they needed before police were knocking at the door, demanding to be let in. Poe ran. He ran with police on his tail, before escaping in his X-Wing. He jumped straight into deep space. Into enemy territory. He’d been recognised almost immediately - the X-Wing was a dead giveaway. He’d been chased for light years and shot at; his baby had taken some pretty nasty hits. He’d been grounded on Dantooine, the planet nearly deserted. And yet, it seemed just his luck that a few locals took offence to his presence. He’d sustained pretty bad injuries to his torso and left leg. He’d escaped as fast as possible - the loss of blood making his head spin. He entered through the atmosphere of D’Qar, eyes closing off their own accord. There wasn’t enough power in the ship to radio down to ask for permission, nor to land safely. He had to ground the bird.

You slipped your jacket that you had been given on, as well as your old shoes. You played with the lock on the door, having memorised the sound of the code from when you were brought food. You type in the code tentatively, thanking the Maker when the door whooshed open. You crept out, sneaking towards the main blast door. You could feel Poe slipping, feel him losing his touch. As soon as you were out on the ground, you sprinted.

Poe had angled the ship a few miles west of the base. It was still going to be a trek back to the base, but that was better than crashing on the runway; he’d never live that down.

You ran towards the trees, heading west. You could see the smoking ship in your peripheral vision.

Poe was lying on the grass when you got to him, eyes shut with his hand pressing on his side; there was blood everywhere.

Your hands cradled his face as you fell to your knees next to him. You ripped his shirt away - hands ghosting over his chest as you felt for his heartbeat. It was faint, but it was there.

You reached out to the force, pulling threads as you attempted to close up some of the wounds. The bleeding slowed as you pleaded with him; "Poe, come back! They need you, Poe!"

He sputtered suddenly, rolling onto his side, wincing as the newly healed skin stretched. You stayed by his side, hands still running up and down his body, trying to find any more injuries to heal. His breathing remained heavy, as he tried to recollect everything that happened. His hand flew to his side.

"How the hell did you do that?"

"It's a long story."

"I have time."

"I don't," Poe looks at you questioningly, "It's only a matter of time before they realise I'm gone. Or one of them shows up here looking for you."

He shrugged in agreeance, lying back to face the sun, "How did you know I was here?" You laid back, head next to his. The sky was pretty - clear and bright. Maybe, they'd let you come back out here - watch the sun rise and set more. Maybe.

"I felt it. I could feel the disturbance - you were panicked." You whispered, trying not to offend him. It was the truth, but you knew how powerful men often hated the truth.

"Me? Panicked? Never. Have you met me?" His tone was coloured with laughter. You smiled.

You sat in silence for a long time, just enjoying the peace and quiet of the D'Qar weather, until you heard the med team running towards you.

"They're almost here. They're gonna take you to the med-wing. Fix you up. You'll be able to fly in no time." You gave him a watery smile. He gripped your hand tightly.

"I'll tell Leia. You saved my life - she'll ease up. You can train with her - she's - something - with the force. She can help you."

"NO!" You yelled, jumping away from him, "You can't tell Leia. You can't, you can't - promise me - PROMISE ME, POE - promise me, you won't tell Leia." He grabbed your hand and soothed you, promising not to tell Leia until you were ready.

He held your hand until the med team arrived and they ushered him onto a Gurney. He yelled at the two corporals left with you to be nice - "she saved my life!" he yelled as he was dragged away. They threw back in the same cell just the same.

It was two days before you saw anyone else again. You were provided food at every mealtime just the same as you had before - except there was no interrogation afterward. You preferred the interrogation. Made you feel... needed.

You knew that Poe had argued for you. You'd heard from two officers from data who were gossiping about it on the way to the Cantina.

"Did you hear?" One of them giggled.

"About the General and Poe. Of course!"

Poe had made the dash to see the General as soon as he was cleared from the med-wing. You'd saved his life. It was only fair that he do the same.

He walked - no, strutted - into the General's office in a very 'Poe' way, claiming that the matter was of the utmost importance. He gave his mission report - how the intel wasn't just good, it was "brilliant. It solved some of our supply issues, which means we're in a better place than ever to beating them. They have no blaster parts, no ship parts - the supply chain will be delayed for weeks." Leia had dismissed him after that.

The first sign of trouble should have been that. That Leia hadn't asked him about the trouble or berated him for getting into it. Instead, she was just letting him go.

Poe pushed the issue - he talked about the trouble and his destroyed X-Wing, and how he practically crash-landed into D'Qar because the police on Daiyu was "mad strict. Like they couldn't let a small thing like that go? Maker, what happened to that place?"

The second sign of trouble was the lack of warnings. Usually, Leia laid the 'be careful, don't get yourself killed,' warnings on thick. They were nowhere to be found.

The third sign of trouble was the glazed-over expression in Leia's eyes. Poe realised that he never had Leia's attention, to begin with. Leia's mind was completely preoccupied with the young girl in a cell, who'd risked her freedom to save a Captain. A man that she barely knew.

The bigger mystery was how had she hidden so successfully in the force - not only from Leia herself but from bigger threats, like Snoke and Kylo Ren.

Poe, mistaking Leia's confusion for anger, begged her not to hurt the girl. "She's just a kid, General, she was doing what she'd been taught." Leia sent Poe away, assuring him that she wasn't going to hurt the girl.

You felt Leia before you saw her. You'd fallen asleep with your back upright against the headboard, an awkward crick forming in your neck. Your eyes opened to Leia perched on the edge of your bed.

You jumped into apologies and pleas - "please don't send me back" and "I was just trying to help him - the med team wasn't going to get there in time."

You were surprised when you felt her hand brush up against your cheek, but you leaned into the touch all the same. She gazed at you so lovingly that for a moment you forgot that she was the reason you were locked in here.

"I was wrong." Her words stunned you, "I was wrong about you, and I apologise. You are safe here - to practice the force, or live without it. If you want to leave, I will find you a planet on which no one - First Order or Resistance - will find you. Should you wish to stay, I would welcome you with open arms, as would everyone else here."

You smiled at her, "I would like to stay - if that's ok?"

She smiled at you, standing up and walking towards the door. "I'll make sure you get your first flying session with Captain Dameron first thing in the morning. He said you had a knack for flying."

"Umm, General?" She turns to look at you, "If it's all the same to you, I'd prefer something on the ground? Something like controllership?" She smiled and nodded.

"I'll have Connix meet you in the morning, kid. Sleep well."

And you did. In fact, you had probably never slept better.

fin.

buy me a coffee

[eyelessfaces]

three weeks

poe dameron x reader

summary: poe has never been gone that long since you started dating; mornings happen to feel warmer when he is home.

warnings: p with minimal plot....., morning sex, handjob, piv sex, hair pulling (POE RECEIVING), this isn't just corn I promise it's mostly sweet because your honor they are in LOVE

tags: f!reader, fluff, banter, teasing:)

word count: 2.4k

masterlist | taglist | ao3

updates blog: @eyelessupdates

!!may the force be with you

You had fallen asleep to the featherlight stroke of his fingertips against your arm in his warm embrace; he had never been gone for that long since you started dating, and though you knew you would have to get used to being apart, you weren’t sure you actually would, ever. 

But if it always felt this way, always felt raw and pure when you found each other again like you had just fallen in love with each other all over again, then maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to be torn apart from time to time.

His eyes are still shut when yours open, long eyelashes kissing his cheeks as his slow, steady breath tells you he’s still asleep. It is quite rare for the both of you to be able to linger in bed and enjoy a morning together, he is most of the time already long gone when you wake up, even on his days off he still spends running around everywhere. 

You softly call his name when your hand comes to rest over his bare torso, fingers twisting with the chain around his neck, mouth pressing against the light stubble of his cheek.

He stirs softly, and his face contorts into a small yawn before he turns so he can nuzzle against your own. 

“Morning,” he rasps softly, voice cracking with sleep as his eyes remain shut. His hand slips under the sheets, settling over your hip, his throat vibrating with a low hum as your fingers gently weave through his thick, messy curls. His own fingers mirror yours when they slip under your shirt, rubbing patterns onto your skin; you always wonder how he’s so warm all the time, heat radiating off his body like a living radiator.

“Morning,” you reply in a soft exhale, smiling as he drowsily blinks at you. “Slept well?”

He hums in reflection. “Better than the past three weeks” he ultimately affirms, his lips faintly pecking at the corner of your mouth.

“Corny” you mock, sighing softly when he shifts to nestle his face in the crook of your neck.

“Factual” he counters as he squeezes your hip, causing you to softly yelp in surprise and make him breathe out a laugh against your shoulder. “May seem surprising, but I actually like sleeping by your side in my bed more than I like sleeping practically on the ground in a shitty tent.” he adds, leaving a kiss just above the collar of your shirt before turning around.

“I would’ve never guessed that.” you tease. Poe takes a look at the holographic clock, turning back to you with a small frown when he realizes what time it is. Your eyes widen playfully, “I took the morning off. Surprise”

“Ouhhh,” he chants with a snide smirk, his hand crawling higher under your shirt as he presses his body close to yours again. “What a nice surprise”

“First time we can spend the morning together,” you note.

“It happened before”

You scoff. “Not by the book. You ended up being late to your own meeting” you retort with a playful smirk. The memory makes your stomach flutter; he had been particularly needy and desperate that morning, and you had had trouble trying not to laugh when he showed up to the conference room with his hair all mussed up and a faint blush over his face.

“Alright, yeah, but neither of us would’ve been happy if I left the room to get to the meeting in time huh?” he smirks, leaning in to capture your lips in a quick kiss as his hand under your shirt tickles up your ribs. “We kinda were in the middle of something”

“That we were” you acquiesce with a grin, hands joining the back of his neck to pull him back to your face again. His lips push against yours in a bruising kiss now, his free hand grasping onto your chin to part your mouth so he can slip his tongue in. He somehow manages to feel even closer to you when he works his tongue against yours, his kiss hungry and demanding as he softly grinds his hips against yours, his touch warm and impatient; your soft moan resonates within him when he cups your breast under your shirt, squeezing it softly.

He pulls away so the both of you can catch your breath. “Eager much?” you ask against his mouth, his lips still brushing against yours. 

“I mean, three whole weeks of not being able to touch you baby.”

You smile, “Mhm” you mindlessly play with the curls at his nape, hands shifting to rest over his broad shoulders, your thumb gently rubbing over a small faded scar there. He presses his forehead against yours, his warm brown eyes boring into yours with that look you know all too well. 

“I missed you” he mutters, hand smoothing over the surface of your stomach. You smile as you softly trace his face, the light stubble prickling the tips of your fingers.

“I know.” you press your lips against his again, hands shifting to grasp onto his hair; he lets out a faint groan when you bite onto his bottom lip as you pull away from the kiss. “Let me get on top of you” you demand, poking his stomach playfully.

“Oh yeah baby” he rolls onto the side, letting himself lay back down beside you. “Wouldn’t say no to that” he chuckles, tucking both his hands behind his head, a sly smirk growing over his face as you chuckle and press your hands over his bare torso, shifting to sit over his lap, your knees at either side of his hips.

You scoff when you adjust your position, softly grinding against him. “You’re fully hard already? Not even letting me work for it? Wow”

“You got that kinda effect on me,” he sighs softly, hands grabbing your hips, caressing your sides under your shirt. “I told you, three whole weeks of not being able to touch you”

You chuckle mockingly, leaning closer to his face. “Yeah, don't tell me you didn't touch yourself though” you whisper teasingly; he scoffs and wraps a hand behind your head to bring you closer, letting his mouth wander here and there against your neck.

“My hand is nothing compared to you” he grins between kisses. You shift to the side, still pressed close to him, your hand sliding down his torso and stomach to eventually reach under his boxers. He lets out a lewd groan when your hand closes around him, his nose nestling behind your ear as you start to stroke him slowly.

“My hand better?” you ask, your other hand cupping the back of his head as he breathes out against the skin of your neck, the brush of his lips warm against your skin. He hums approvingly, thumbs rubbing at either side of your hips; he always has to touch you one way or another, no matter the situation. His mouth always has to be occupied too; the brush of his lips ignites a warmth within you as he leaves faint kisses under your ear and down your neck to your collarbone, his forehead resting against your shoulder as he bucks softly into your touch. 

“Feels so good baby” he mumbles, a loud moan leaving his mouth and his eyes squeezing shut when you twist your hand just the way he likes. “Fuck” he sighs, “You’re gonna get me off like that?”

“Got a problem with that commander?” you scoff in disbelief as you tease his slit with your thumb, your hand in his hair tugging on it so you can see his face.

He sighs a soft moan, his lust-blown eyes darting up to you. “No but– Fuck– I’d like to get inside you before I remember I actually have responsibilities even on my days off” he declares in a tone he knows by experience you can’t resist, his hand shifting to your thigh, caressing it up and down.

You sigh, “You’re so impatient it’s actually terrifying.” you say as you pull your hand out of the single piece of clothing covering him, made too tight now. “You should consider yourself lucky I can’t say no to anything you ask of me” he watches with a sly smile as you rid yourself of your underwear, sliding off his own before you move back to straddle him. 

“I do consider myself lucky” he grins as he looks you up and down, his gaze full of love as he runs his hands up and down your thighs; his fingers are calloused from pushing blaster triggers and hitting the control panel buttons of ships, but the gesture is overflowing with affection. “Look at you” he croons. “C’mon babe,” he playfully swats your thigh as he shifts to get more comfortable on the bed. “Save an X-wing, ride a pilot” he teases, drawing a stupid chuckle out of you. 

He huffs out a sigh of relief when you lower yourself down onto his cock, biting onto his bottom lip once you're fully seated as he looks down at where you're connected.

He frowns, looking back up at you when you don't move after that. “Something wrong?”

“No” you declare, not offering him any other explanation. He chuckles, confused as to why you're staying still over his lap, not moving an inch.

“What then. What are you doing babe” you try to hold back from smirking as you see him grow impatient, his fingers softly kneading the meat of your thighs, trying to make you roll your hips over him. “Move”

“No” you shake your head with an insolent smile. “You're inside me, that's it, that's what you wanted” he huffs out a disbelieving laugh, throwing his head back the same way he does when you crack him a shitty joke; he's not sure he's patient enough to really enjoy this kind of joke right at this moment. “We have all morning Poe” you whine, leaning over to sink your face into the crook of his neck and leave a trail of kisses that follow along his necklace.

“Fine” he grunts softly, his arm wrapping around you to let his hand rest against your back. 

A surprised, sharp yelp escapes you when he – without warning – maneuvers and flips you around, making you land on your back; all that training happens to be useful in bed, after all. Your eyes squeeze shut when he pushes into you, the stretch of him unfamiliar again after what seemed to be ages.

“Three weeks baby, three weeks” he rams his hips into yours, tucking his face into your shoulder. “I don't have all morning”

You cup the back of his neck, nails softly digging in his skin as you hold onto him tight, your legs wrapping around him; he’s rutting into you like you’re gonna slip away from him, escape like smoke curling around his fingers and fading into oblivion. “Missed this so much,” he sighs into your ear, his words slightly scattered by the force of his movements. “Missed you so much” 

You want to give him your reciprocation, but all that comes out of you is a broken whine when he manages to reach deeper inside you; your hands bury into his curls, slightly tugging on them in response, drawing the same kind of wrecked moan out of him.

“F–Fuck okay” he chokes out after a sharp thrust. “Don’t do that if you want me to last”

“What if I don’t want you to last”

He scoffs. “Then we’ll have to fuck again because I can’t get enough of you” he declares, pressing his mouth against yours to kiss you sloppily, your hand cupping the side of his face as he continues to fuck into you, not giving up on his rhythm. He hums as he desperately licks into your mouth, his thrusts growing messy when you purposefully pull on his hair again. “Sweetheart I’m not kidding” he warns in a breathy laugh, his forehead pressing against yours. “You’re gonna make me lose it”

You brush away the strands of hair falling over his face, “Then you better hurry making me come” you tease, making him huff out a sincere laugh.

But there is no challenge Poe Dameron doesn’t take seriously.

He fucks into you soft and deep, not letting up until he has you writhing underneath him, staving off his own release for yours. It almost feels like you’re melting into the mattress when you start to feel it, your fingers tightening in Poe's hair as he babbles incoherently into your ear, so close to his own peak; he finally lets himself go when you’re there, his stifled moan into your ear when he releases inside you extending the momentary haze buzzing in your head. 

It almost feels like you black out for a second; “Are you okay my love?” Poe asks concerned by your absent, weak blinks as his hand cups your face, his thumb gently tracing back and forth against your cheek. 

You offer him a small nod, and he shoots you a smile before kissing your forehead and jumping out of bed, coming back later with a washcloth to clean you up.

Then everything feels quiet again. The soft heaving of your breathing as his head rests over your stomach, his legs tangled with yours, the soft tickle of his fingers tracing circles and random shapes over any piece of bare skin he finds over you.

“I missed you too,” you declare in a weak mutter. “I didn’t say it back earlier.” 

You don’t see his smile, but you know it is there as he leaves a kiss over the surface of your tummy. He hums softly as you absent-mindedly play with his hair.

“I can't wait for this war to be over.” he admits. “We'll settle on Yavin, in a nice house not too far from my dad's,” he exhales softly through his nose at the idea of it all before he continues, “We'll have mornings to ourselves, like this, and we will have breakfast in our backyard where we’ll grow all kinds of plants and trees from all over the galaxy” he smiles, earning a sweet, longing chuckle from you that seems to still in the air. He pauses, waits for a moment before he says it– 

“I want to grow old with you.”

It’s in these moments that time feels like it slows down, but Poe sometimes wishes he could put this galaxy to a pause just so he could have more moments like these with you.

—

any and every comment is greatly appreciated!!

star wars taglist: @lockleysgrl @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @campingwiththecharmings @mintgreen24 @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious @stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96 @unear7hly

[jake-g-lockley]

Can I have prompt 23 and 27 with Poe Dameron, with a side of enemies to lovers please?

Feels Right (Poe Dameron x reader)

Masterlist | Spotify Playlist | Wanna be Tagged?

Prompts: "you are, without a doubt, the most annoying person i've ever crossed paths with. and don't even get me started on the sound of your voice." and "please shut up. i can't stand how appealing your voice is."'

A/N: HALLU! Firstly, thank you for this request nonnie! Sorry it took me so freaking long to complete, had a busy few months :”) 

Warnings: MDNI, smut, a little bit of dub-con, dry humping, dom!Poe, sub!reader, bondage, fingering, oral (f receiving), protected p in v, a bit of angst, lots of fluff, swearing, jealousy, possessive Poe. 

Word count: 5.3k

 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You couldn't stand his voice. You wanted him to shut up, your only thought in your head was "Please shut up. I can't stand how appealing your voice is.”  You couldn’t stand the way he looked at everyone, so full of hope. You couldn’t stand the way his curls bounced when he turned his head or the way his eyes sparkled when they came in contact with yours.

It was all too much.

You raised your hand the second he asked whether there were other questions. He narrowed his eyes but like the good receptive leader he was, he nodded at you.

“This is less of a question and more of a request. I’d just like to say that I need people to start keeping the hangar clean and stop parking x-wings wherever you please, only for me to wake up in the morning and dock the ships for you. What are y’all? A bunch of five year olds?” you huffed, your hands on your hips.

You were addressing everyone in the room, but your eyes were steadily trained on the Black Leader, who had a small smirk on his face. He walked around the table and your eyes followed him while you spoke, holding your head high as he approached you. 

“You heard your commander, folks!” he addressed the room with one of his charming smiles.

Leaning in, he whispers. “Although, I can’t say I’ll be the one keeping the promise, darling.”

You stiffened at the sound of his voice. He was too close and you wanted to body slam him onto the floor so that you would not have to hear him for a while.You flinched slightly as he brought his hands together for a clap.

“All right, everyones dismissed.” 

You stood rooted to your spot, glaring at the General as he went to pick up his data pad. 

“Oh fuck you, Dameron.” you mumbled to his back.

“Say it with a little more chest and I’ll be down, Commander.”  he turned his head to you and smirked. 

Those lips.

Those fucking lips. 

The one time you caved into them made you regret every possible living day you’ve had since. The way those lips had carved out the secret between you two made it seem unbreakable. You craved the taste, but you were too stubborn to satisfy the craving and you had a feeling he knew you were holding back, the passing glances and glares holding something a little more than just resentment.

“You, Dameron, are, without a doubt, the most annoying person I've ever crossed paths with. and don't even get me started on the sound of your voice." you snap.

“Hmm, would you like my voice to say something only for your ears, sweet angel?” He replied so smoothly that you almost let yourself smile, but you resisted, clenching your jaw hard. 

You scowled through your heating cheeks and you let out a sharp breath as the door closed behind him. Over the past few years, that voice has been the bane of your existence. Always saying something cocky, vain or insulting. That didn’t help to cure your insatiable need for him though. 

You’d spend your nights dreaming away about the way he would sound, if you ever got the chance to get under him. How would his lips feel against the shell of your ear if he were to keep his promise and whisper all the beautiful things you'd want him to do to you? Would he whimper if you tug those curls just right or would he grunt and growl if you scratched that glorious back of his? These questions kept you awake and ebbed away at your sanity for years. You glanced at the clock and rubbed your cheek, groaning slightly at the way you had let this ordinary man completely ruin your relatively stable mind. 

 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You stared with sleep laden eyes at the x-wing that was parked smack in the middle of the hangar. You scowled again at Poe’s mischief and mumbled curses under your breath as you climbed the ladder up into the cockpit. You slid into his seat and took a deep breath as Poe’s scent filled your nostrils. You smile to yourself, tracing the joystick before you with your fingers. 

You don't actually hate him, every single good memory you’ve had has him in it. You do however, enjoy the back and forth the both of you had going on for the past few months due to your sudden promotions. Secretly, you were in love with Poe, his stupid boyish swagger made your heart ache, especially when he used that god awful smile on you.

Slowly, everything was becoming more and more overwhelming, lulling you into sleep. You turned and pressed your nose into the seat, breathing in the soothing scent as your eyes fluttered close.

“Just for a few minutes…” you mumbled, and soon the cockpit of the x-wing was filled with the sounds of your snores.

 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

Poe was waiting for you at the hanger, watching for any movement from his x-wing. He loved teasing you like this, smiling to himself when he sees you unhappily wadling in your sleep shirt towards his ship. He waited for you to come down, so that he could scare you. He frowned when you took too long, silences ringing in his ear when his ship didn’t start moving. Alarm bells started going off in his head and he rushed to the x-wing and quickly climbed up, only to see you sleeping there.

He stared at you for a while, leaning against his x-wing as you snored softly in his seat, nuzzing your nose into his chair. He didn’t make a mistake, kissing you that one fateful day, pretending to be drunk to maybe earn your favour for the night. He knew he couldn’t have you the second your lips pressed harder against his, igniting something that he could not explain, alongside with the urge to keep you safe. He pushed you away that night, vowing to never turn back to you until he could keep you and his people safe. 

The general sighed and flipped open a dummy switch by the control, a switch that you had never touched before, to reveal your face. He pressed his two fingers to his lips and to the picture of your smiling face, just like he always did before he took flight, followed by the softest kiss on your forehead, something totally unorthodox to him, something that he would talk himself out of if he ever gave his heart a chance to listen to his brain. Poe waited for a while for you to stir but breathed out a sigh of relief when you didn’t. 

He wanted to keep his distance, he really did. But you kept him up all night, the way you gasped into his mouth when the kiss got a little more hungry never really left his mind, rolling over and over like a broken tape recorder. He wanted to hold you in his arms and keep his promise, to keep you alive and beautiful as always. To never see you cower away in pain or suffering ever again. How could he do that when everything went radioactive around him? 

He wanted you so bad, and he was running out of ideas and ways to stay out of your lane. Poe sighed again, reaching out to move away a strand of hair that fell out of place.He leaned back and watched you a little longer until his eyes grew heavy with sleep too. 

 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You woke up in your bed, completely confused with your bearings. You had a weird dream, being in Poe’s x-wing, being carried out by him. You tried to go through the dream in order, piecing together whether it was real or not. You finally shook your head, figuring that you probably dreamt it up in your sleep-addled brain.

You sigh and decide to get up and start your day, pulling your datapad to check your schedule. There were going to be new recruits today and you had to greet them and assign them to their positions. It was the easiest of your jobs, your smile genuine as your heart gets lighter now that the galaxy was healing. You quickly got up and got ready, to show your best to the new recruits. 

You stood poised in your uniform waiting for the transport to touch down at the hangar when suddenly you felt a strong presence behind you. You didn’t need to be a master of the force to know that Poe Dameron was standing behind you, his gaze piercing the back of your head making your smile slightly. You raise your chin slightly as the door to the transport drops and a few individuals walk out. One of them leads the bunch, walking slightly faster and taller towards you. A beautiful woman, her hair cropped short and her sleeves torn up, revealing intricate tattoos. You shoot the woman with your best smile and she grins back.

“Ah, you must be the General, people talk about your greatness but never your beauty. I am Keana and this is my team.” the woman kneels in front of you and takes your hand, planting a soft kiss onto the back of it, making your face heat up at the gesture. 

You were quite literally lost for words until you felt someone’s body press against your shoulder. 

“That’s because I am the general.” Poe’s voice rang clear and authoritative, and the woman before you quickly stands up and throws Poe a sheepish smile. 

“Terribly sorry for the mistake, I assumed that this fine lady here is the general due to her uniform.” Her words made you spin around to see Poe in his flight suit, helmet tucked under his arm and you try hard not to laugh.

While Keana rounded her group, you tip your head towards Poe with a small smile on your face. 

“I think she called you ugly, baby.” you whisper and his head turns almost too sharply at your utterance of the nickname. 

Poe Dameron was far from ugly. He was indeed one of the most beautiful men you’ve ever laid your eyes on. His scruffy stubble and flawless boyish curls made him look like an effortless prince. His character and charisma only heightened his attractiveness and he had a smile and glint in his eyes that made him irresistible. Poe rolled his eyes at your statement, a smirk evidently trying not to show on his lips as he tried to hold back his next statement. 

“Come on, no snarky remark?” you say, utterly impressed by his control. 

Poe gave you a pointed look and sauntered off to his x-wing, which was suspiciously parked in the right spot. You stared a little longer at the pilot, your eyes trailing a little lower than your liking and you pout and turn on your heel to join Keana and her little group for their tour. 

You knew the man was up to something but you just could not prove what he was doing, or not doing. 

 .・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

By the time the sun had begun to set, you were completely bugged out. Poe teasing you at any point of day had been a daily occurrence since the both of you touched down onto the base. But today he hadn’t said a word directly to you and you were lying if you weren’t slightly worried about it. He also had been tactfully avoiding you all day and you were positive he was when you swear you saw a rush of orange in your peripheral when you finished your tour. 

Fortunately for you, you ran into the best two people that would know where Poe was.

“Finn! Rey! Where’s Dameron?” you panted, running to catch up with them.

“His room, I think. He was weirdly quiet and working on something the last time I saw him.” Finn said and Rey nodded along. 

“Room. Got it. Thanks.” you punctuated before running off to Poe’s room. 

You gathered yourself when you found Poe’s door, combing your fingers through your hair and then straightening out your blouse before keying in the passcode. You walked through the doorway as soon as the door whoshed open, only to find Poe staring blankly at his datapad on his bed. He didn’t even turn to look at you, his eyes carefully trained onto what he was reading. 

“Dameron! Everything okay?” You chirpily asked as you invited yourself to sit at his desk, turning the chair to face him. 

The silence that rang after your question was deafening. You narrowed your eyes at the man before you, trying to figure out why he was giving you the silent treatment. You pursed your lips and clicked your tongue as Poe subtly shifted, still paying you no attention at all. 

Poe hated the way you called him by his last name. He sure as hell didn’t care if he was addressed with it by any other person, but by you? A fiery rage burned in him, fuelled by the way the new recruit flirted with you and the way you had blushed and flushed even with him standing right behind you. He shouldn’t be this angry, not with you, never with you. 

“So the tour went great as usual, Keana is really nice and her team is great, I think that they would do just fine with our people.” You went on, breaking through the silence again as Poe types something into the data pad. 

Poe’s anger was slowly growing and he focused all his might into not losing his temper and doing something that he might regret. He continued to ignore you as if you weren’t sitting there with a beautiful smile on your face that was slowly melting into a frown that he equally enjoyed. He saw your hand move and realised that you were waving at him, trying to force his attention to you. 

You sighed, still not willing to admit defeat. Your brain races through the scenarios in which you could get the General’s attention when suddenly, all the lights go off, making you gasp. You scrambled off the chair and ran to the door, trying to open it but it wouldn’t budge.

“What, never had a power cut in your life, darling?” Poe’s voice dripped like venom over you from the bed, making you slowly turn around to face him.

He was finally looking at you, a glare of pure disdain etched upon his handsome face that was illuminated by the screen of his data pad, flipped your stomach at its intensity. 

Why was he so angry?

His face turns back to the data pad, resuming its previous deadpan expression. You walk over to his bed and sit at the edge, watching quietly as he works, the anger seemingly radiating out of his body and making you feel small. 

You blinked after a while, realising that this man actually had no right to be mad at you. All this time, it had been him annoying the hell out of you. Why should you feel small? You straighten your back and scooched closer, your hand near his. 

You poked him, digging your finger into his side, only for no response. Whatever he was mad about must be making him really angry, because on a normal day, Poe Dameron would be the most sensitive person on base. 

“Daaameron. Dameron, Dameron, Dameron, Dameron.” You jabbed away, but to no avail. 

Inside, Poe was enjoying this. He wanted to see how far you would go to gain his attention. Somehow he knew that you were aware of what he was doing because you suddenly stopped your jabbing, your hand dropping back to your side once again. 

You took a good look at him, wondering if he was worth the risk of losing everything. Your mind was probably leaning towards your riskier side as you eyed the way he sat, his legs and torso forming a seat that you couldn’t resist wanting to sit on. Your intrusive thoughts got the best of you as you quickly climbed into the bed and slid onto his lap. Poe’s eyes widen for a split second and his free hand grasps at your hips as he makes eye contact as he huffs out a breath. Then suddenly, his face goes stoic again. 

He turns to his data pad that was still clutched in his other hand and continues to read, as if unbothered by your presence. Your hands bunch up his shirt and you hold onto him as you grimace. You shifted a little in his lap and felt his grip on your hip tighten slightly, making you smirk. A part of you was nervous, being in such a compromising position with your general, but Poe could have thrown you off his body eons ago if he wanted to. 

Instead he sat as still as possible, only his eyes and chest slightly moving. If Poe was the one who was nervous, he clearly wasn’t showing it. You blatantly checked him out, his pretty boy curls flopping here and there, the curve of his necklace as it rested against his glorious neck, the bobbing of his Adam’s apple as he swallowed, the slight part of his plump lips that you oh so craved for, all zeroing you to the point of why you were there in the first place. 

You steadied yourself, sliding your hands to either side of his shoulder, feeling the muscles underneath his jacket. Even with you feeling him up, Poe didn’t budge a single inch, his hand now gently resting on the curve of your hip. You eyed Poe’s stubble longingly, your heart thudding inside your chest as you gazed at how perfect the curve of his jaw was. A few of Poe’s fingers lightly squeezed at your hip as if he were daring you to make your next move too. 

You figured “Why not.”

What could you possibly lose now, you were already straddling him.

You grabbed at his jacket and leaned in, pressing a feathery kiss to a spot between his neck and where his jaw started, and to your absolute joy, another soft gasp emitting from his lips. You let go of his jacket and let your chest lay flat against his, sliding your hands around his neck and smiling against his neck before pressing another kiss and feeling a light shudder.

“Give up Dameron.” you murmured. 

Poe’s eyes remained glued to the datapad but you knew he wasn't concentrating anymore with the way he started to breathe, slow and shallow, as if he were focusing on composing himself. You slowly run your fingers through his locks, your nails grazing the nape of his neck, gently coaxing him to relax when suddenly you feel his breath jump.

“Where’s that aggravating voice of yours now, General?” You purred into his ear and felt a growing hardness beneath you, along with your own swirling heat at the pit of your abdomen.

One of your hands make their way back to his face, gently grabbing at his jaw as you push yourself off him again, effectively grinding your hot core into his just to rile the pilot up. Poe’s eyes were half lidded now and his data pad hung loosely in his grip as his hand had drifted down onto his bed, laying limp. You pushed his chin up, forcing him to make eye contact with you.

When those swirling dark brown eyes snapped to yours, you realised how much trouble you were in, just from a single glance. 

“Poe…” you whispered, so softly that you doubted he heard you despite the lack of space between the two of you.

Poe’s free hand snaked up your back and held onto the back of your neck in an instant, pulling you towards him as your lips finally crashed together. The kiss was urgent and Poe wasted no time snaking the hand at your waist around your body to keep you pinned against him, making your mouth drop open, welcoming Poe’s tongue as he pushed himself up to kiss you harder. 

You’ve been wanting this for months and the satisfaction that rushed over you was like no other. You didn’t care about the fact that you couldn’t breathe, you just needed to feel him against you. Poe pulls away with a sharp intake of breath as you grind down hard on his growing erection. His eyes were still on yours, piercing right through your soul.

“You’re starting something that you’re gonna regret, sweetheart.” He whispered as he readjusted the way you were straddling him.

“What are you gonna do? Throw me out of the resistance?” You laughed but it died down instantly when a smirk curled itself onto his kiss-addled lips. 

Poe had kept everything he felt about you pented up for months and now he was fuelled with a passion like no other. He flipped you over and towered over you, watching as your face went flush and your eyes grew wide. 

“Oh you’ll see.” He simply said before leaning down to kiss you again, pressing his entire body against your frame as your hands flew to his hair. 

He knew you having your hands in his hair turns you on as much as it does him, but he tutted against your lips and pulled your hands down from his head anyway. 

“You're really a brat.” he says lowly.

“Poe please…” you begged him with your eyes, not wanting him to stop.

“Brats don't get to touch me.” He gets on his knees and towered over you, unbuckling his belt as you watched on, completely aroused by the way he tugs it. 

He twisted his belt and looped it around the buckle a few times before you knew what he was doing. He slipped the makeshift cuff onto your wrists and secured you to the bed, making you giggle nervously, tugging your wrists and showing you that you were going nowhere. 

“There you go, pretty girl.” he smiled cruelly, tapping your cheek with his fingers and you gasped slightly at his demeanour. 

“What should I do with you?” he asked mockingly as his hands trailed to your shirt, undoing the first few buttons. 

“I’d save the best for last,” he smiled to himself before raising his eyebrows at you and ripping the rest of your shirt. “and I’ll start with my appetiser.” 

Your breathing had quickened and you were following Poe’s every move. His fingers had moved to the waistband of your pants and he watched your eyes widen as he hooked his fingers. 

“Want me to stop?” Poe questioned, slightly amused by your silence.

“No, no, please don’t!” You whine, your hands tugging uselessly at their bonds. 

“As you wish, baby.” he gives you another cheeky smirk before pulling your pants down, along with your underwear, exposing you to the cold air of his room. He was a little further away now and you tried to make your eyes adjust to the dark so that you could see him.

That's when you felt a warm breath against your cunt. You wanted to snap your legs close but strong hands clamped you down and a casual chuckle emitted from your core. A soft kiss in your inner thigh rubbed all the feelings of anxiety away and Poe’s hand began to rub soft circles in the plush of your thigh that made you sink further into his bed. 

“Oh, Poe…” was all you could say as his breath fanned your exposed core again. 

“That’s right, angel, love hearing you beg for me.” Poe said sultry, almost to your cunt rather than to you. 

He pressed a feather light kiss onto your clit and you keened, a soft airy moan filling the room. 

“These moans are mine.” Poe said softly from between your legs.

His hands travelled slightly higher, his big palms and fingers feeling the planes of your skin. 

“This body is mine.” He said again, almost to himself. 

Something clicked inside you and you finally figured out what got you here in the first place. 

“You’re mine.” This time, the words were uttered so softly that you were pretty sure you had lost Poe to his own thoughts. 

Suddenly with your last act of defiance, you found yourself saying: 

“You jealous, pretty boy?”

That's when all hell broke loose and you knew your next few thoughts were going to be incoherent. 

Poe’s tongue lapped up your arousal that had been pooling from grinding on him and his words, making you arch your back and push your pussy into his face. His hands travelled back to your core and held you open, as he started to devour you like a man starved. 

Nothing in the galaxy could have prepared you for the way your general started eating you out. He ate your spend like he earned it, licking and slurping and moaning into your pussy as if it gave him life to so what he was doing. His beautiful nose rubbed into your clit just right and your whimpering only fuelled his fire because he latched his mouth onto your clit and pushed two fingers into you without a question.

You sweared, through your haze ridden mind, that he smirked against you as you started to writhe and gasp for air as his fingers reached the delicious spot that you yearned for. You were shaking for him within a few minutes, hands desperately trying to grab onto something but failing as your orgasm ripped through you like a hailstorm. 

Poe knew you were being too loud but didn’t have the heart or the coherent thought to stop you from screaming his name at the top of your lungs as your clit throbbed between his lips and your cunt clenched tightly around his fingers that were still trying their best to piston in and out of you. 

Poe brought you down with several gentle kitten licks and soft kisses onto your skin as his hand began to knead gently at your flesh. He heard his belt rattling again, followed by a soft whimper that tore at his heart strings, causing him to crawl up your body with soft words leaving his lips. 

“Okay, baby, you’re okay. You did so well.” he said through your gasps and gently untied you from his bed frame.

He brought your wrist to his lips and kissed them gently before rubbing them comfortingly. Your whimpers quietened down and your soft breathes made Poe smile as he brought his face close to yours. 

“Hello.” He says as you pry your eyes open. 

“Hey.” You breathe, taking in his pretty face before leaning up for a kiss. 

Poe caught your lips gracefully, his kisses softer and more calculated. You tasted yourself on him and you realised what you had just done with your general. Poe could probably sense your hesitation when your side of the kiss had a sense of unsurity. 

“Baby?” he asked as he pulled away. 

“Is this right?” You asked, searching his eyes.

“Yes, baby, yes. I want this and it feels right to me. Does it feel right to you?” He says, reassuringly rubbing at your cheek with his thumb. 

You smiled. This was your Poe. 

“Yes, Poe. It feels right.” you giggled slightly as Poe sighed in relief. 

“So you gonna fuck me now?” you raised your eyebrow and let your eyes droop, causing the now accustomed smirk to form on Poe’s face with your words. 

“Didn’t think you’d ask.” Poe answered in his usual confident tone. 

Poe got rid of his pants faster than you could ever imagine. To say that you were slightly intimidated by his size was definitely an understatement. He reached over you to his bedside drawer and pulled out a condom, slipping it on and letting his length drop between the both of you. 

You stared incredulously at his cock that was laid out on your stomach. You’d definitely feel him in your guts for days after this. You found yourself trailing a hand down to his cock, wrapping your fingers around him to test his weight. 

Poe moaned dangerously low as you started to stroke his cock, his head thrown back almost immediately. You stroked him a few more times before lining up his tip at your entrance, taking your time as you slowly let him push himself in. 

“Maker, Poe.” You cried as he slowly bottomed out, never feeling this full in your entire life.

“It's okay, baby, I’m here.” Poe’s voice was strained from the way your pussy gripped around him and the both of you knew it was only a matter of a few minutes before you both were pushed past breaking point. 

You nodded and Poe started to move slowly, your synchronised moans and groans echoing around the dark room once again. Poe leaned down and began to slowly suck at your exposed breast that had popped out of their bra in your previous tousle. You arched your back and threaded a hand up his locks, pulling him tightly against you as your other hand generously scratched up his back, making him moan hungrily against your tit. 

“Fuck baby, you feel so fucking good.” he groaned. 

His movements increased with sudden vigour, picking up the pace to match your beautiful moans. The amazing drag of his cock in your wet channel made you want to float and you feel yourself losing yourself to him. Poe’s hand ended up between the two of you and you knew he was close as his fingers started to rub gently at your already abused clit. 

“Come with me Poe, please.” You whispered and he nodded immediately.

“Now.” he breathed and you came with a choked groan as you milked him, pushing him and prolonging his release with each clench of your cunt. 

He pumped himself inside you a few more times before letting his legs give way, collapsing ungracefully on top of you. The both of you spent the next few minutes catching your breath, completely spent from your irresponsible activities.

Poe gets up first, pressing a gentle kiss onto your shoulder before pulling himself out of you with a groan. He pulls off the condom and you hear him tossing it aside and gently lowering himself next to you as you admire the mess you made of him. 

You gently run your knuckle against his cheekbone and watch his eyes flutter close. You shuffle closer and turn around, tucking yourself into his chest and pulling his arms around you, feeling incredibly clingy after that vigorous session. 

“Who knew you had an off button inside you.” Poe spoke up after a while and you swatted at his bicep, causing him to chuckle and cuddle you closer. 

You suddenly felt vulnerable in his arms, turning to face him once more. 

“Poe?” you whisper.

“Hmm?” 

“D-do you like me?” you ask, hugging your arms around your own naked body. 

Silence filled the room and you thought you were done for, that this was all for nothing when suddenly, a loud laugh emitted from Poe, causing you to jump slightly.

“You’re telling me, you slid into my lap and let me fuck you how I wanted to fuck you and you’re now asking if I like you?! Are you dumb?” he cackled through his words and you pouted. 

“I don’t like you, stupid. I love you.” Poe said in one final sentence that made you almost stop functioning. 

“You- I…” you tried to say but Poe cut you off with a kiss, a kiss so gentle almost like he was afraid to break you. 

“I love you too Poe.” You breathed the second his lips gave you the tiniest bit of space. 

“I know.” He smiled at you before giving you one last peck. “Can we go back to cuddling now and talk about everything when the power comes back?” 

“By talk you mean-”

“Do I need to spell it out, commander? Now hush.” he slyly cuts you off and you smile as his arms wrap around you once again, your heart and mind finally settling in the same place. 

Reblogs are appreciated~~~

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[violentdelightsandviolentends]

This Is The Way It Always Goes.

Synopsis - Santiago always comes crawling back. You convince yourself this is the last time - but you both know that's not true.

Pairing - ExBoyfriend!Santiago Garcia x Female Reader

Word Count - 2.6k

Age Rating - 18+

Warnings - smut. kinda toxic relationship dynamic. cursing. angst. this one gets a little rough.

Author's Note - I was in a mood when I wrote this. it's not often I write angst like this, but when I do, I aim to break some hearts. not sure why I chose Santiago for this one... it just felt right. I know this isn't a part of any of my series, but this idea came to me and I managed to bang it out in an hour. series fics coming soon - promise!! <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback!) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

This is the way it always goes.

You know it's him as soon as you hear the knocking.

He always knocks as if he's trying to break the door down. Maybe he is. He's broken down everything else in your life.

This is the way it always goes.

You tell yourself you're not answering. You're going to sit here and listen to him bang on the door. Then you'll listen as he yells, begs, tries to sweet talk you through the heavy oak, words seeping through the wood like raindrops. You're not answering.

But then he uses that tone, the honeyed, dulcet, low and raspy one. The one that shoots straight to your heart. His voice cracks, and so does your resolve.

You slowly wander towards the front door, sitting down against it with a thud. He hears it. He knows you're there. He knew you'd come around.

"Baby," he whispers.

You hear him loud and clear.

"Don't call me that. I'm not your baby, Santiago."

You're trying to sound authoritative but you just sound broken. Lost. Helpless.

"You are," he pleads. "Don't say that. You are my baby. You're always going to be my baby."

"No, I'm not," you plead back.

This is the way it always goes.

"You're the love of my goddamn life, honey. When are you going to realise that?"

"I'm not," you counter. "I'm not. I'm not I'm not I'm not I'm not I'm not."

There are warm, salty tears dripping down your cheeks. You didn't even realise you were crying until you felt the water hit your lap. He always makes you cry.

Your lover shouldn't make you cry.

"Just let me in. Let me see you. Please."

It's always the pleading please that gets you. Santiago isn't exactly a polite man. He gets what he wants and he takes what he needs and he usually doesn't care who gets hurt in the process.

"No, Santiago. No. You do this every time. Nothing ever changes. You never change."

"I'm trying, baby. I promise you I am. It's hard, it's really fucking hard, but I'm trying. For you. I'm trying for you."

You don't believe a word he says. You don't. But he sounds so... genuine. He's the king of false promises, Santiago Garcia. Maybe, just maybe, this time it won't be false. One of these days he'll actually follow through. Maybe.

"I can't do this, Santiago. I can't. You break me more every time."

Soon, there'll be nothing left for him to break.

"Don't say that. Baby, don't say that."

You hear his head hit your door with a thud, resting there. You turn to press your forehead into the wood, the two of you so close but still so far apart.

"You hurt me, Santiago. And every time I think I'm okay, you show up again. It isn't fair."

It isn't fair. But this is the way it always goes.

"I never wanted to hurt you, hermosa. I never meant to. I love you."

It's always those three little words that crack the very foundations of your heart, splintering it into a million tiny pieces.

It's always those three little words that make you relent.

You sigh deeply, and reach up above your head to undo the deadbolt. The noise startles Santiago from where he's sat with his head against the cold wood. He rises to his feet and takes a step back, careful and considered.

You take a deep breath and unlock the door. You don't open it. You can't bring yourself to.

Santiago does. He turns the handle gently and pulls it towards him, stood still in his place. He doesn't come in. He wants to hear you say it first.

You finally look at him, and you regret it instantly.

He looks good. So good. His hair has grown out longer than the last time you saw him, light stubble dusting his face. He's got more grays coming in, salt and pepper scattered amongst the darkness. The sun has kissed his skin on all of his missions abroad, making him glow. He looks delectable.

"Cariño," he breathes. "Fuck. You're so beautiful. Even more beautiful than I remember."

A tear drips down your cheek, soaking into the material of your shirt. He sounds so sincere. He is so sincere. You know he thinks the world of you. It's so painful.

This is the way it always goes.

He takes a step towards you, and you suddenly find you can't move. The rational part of your brain is telling you to get back, to put as much distance between you as possible. But you don't. You stay exactly where you are, allowing him to invade your space.

Santiago leans forward and rests his forehead on yours, large, calloused hands cradling your face tenderly.

"I missed you," he breathes, and you can taste the mint on his tongue. He's chewed this one type of gum since you've known him. He always tastes the same.

"You're gonna leave again," you whisper. "You come here, you fuck me up, and then you leave. I'm not doing it again, Santiago. I can't."

"I'm sorry, hermosa. So fucking sorry. You know I never meant to hurt you. You know that."

"Then why won't you leave me alone?" you cry. "I try to move on every fucking time, Santi. And then you crawl back into my life and I let you! I let you! I always say it's gonna be the last time, and it never is. How do you think that makes me feel, huh? I feel like a fool, Santi. A fucking fool!"

Silence.

"Santi," he repeats slowly.

You look at him incredulously, and then scoff in disbelief.

"What?"

"You called me Santi, not Santiago. Like the old days."

You didn't even realise you'd done it. It just feels so easy, to fall back into old habits. It's programmed into you, a part of your DNA now. He's your Santi and you're his baby and you'll break each others hearts a million times and keep on going.

This is the way it always goes.

He reaches back and shuts the door behind him. He's staying. For now. You look at him with teary eyes, bottom lip trembling.

"Old habits die hard, I guess," you jab shakily.

"Is that what I am to you, hermosa? An old habit?"

You inhale sharply.

"You're a hell of a lot of fucking things to me, Santi."

You want to step back. You want to push him away and throw him out the door. You want to hit him, scratch at him, punch him in his stupid, gorgeous face. But you don't. Instead, you step forward - straight into his outstretched arms.

You press yourself into him, tucking yourself into his broad chest. He wraps his arms around you as tightly as he possibly can, terrified that you'll disappear any second. You both exhale the past, and inhale the present.

"If you hurt me again, I'll kill you," you threaten, muffled by the cotton of his t shirt.

"I'd let you," he whispers into your hair. "I'd die a happy man if I was to die at your hands."

He always does this. Knows exactly what to say. Promises he won't leave. Then, inevitably, he gets a call, asking him to fly out to Colombia, Kenya, Alaska. And he goes. Without a second thought for you, he goes.

You've lost count of how many times it has happened. You're getting a horrible feeling of déjà vu. But you just can't bring yourself to break free from this hold he has on you. Not when he's rocking you gently, murmuring how you're his whole world, how he has nothing if he doesn't have you, how this time he'll be different.

You're not sure if you believe him. But you're sick of arguing with yourself and you're sick of pulling teeth. He'll break your heart again. Maybe you're immune to it now. There's only one way to find out.

"Make me forget," you whisper. "Make me forget all the shitty things you've done to me. Make me forget my own fucking name, Santi. Please."

He pulls back to look at you, to see if you mean it. You do. You're tired of fighting this. Of fighting the inevitable.

Santiago lunges forward and smashes his lips to yours, slipping his tongue into your mouth. He groans when he realises you taste the same. You chew that gum just for him.

He hooks his foot around your ankle and yanks, sending you flying backwards. Santi's got his arms firmly around your back, cushioning your fall. As soon as you hit the floor, he's on you. His lips are pressing into your neck, down your jaw, nipping at your ears. His hands are groping at you roughly - your hips, your tits, your ass. Anything he can grab, he does.

Santiago stops momentarily to look at you intently. He dips his head down and licks up your cheek before kissing your eyelids tenderly. You taste like salty tears and years of regret.

You tangle your fingers into his hair and pull as hard as you can, hoping to hurt him. He groans in pain, and a sick sense of satisfaction settles in your stomach. You want to hurt him. You want to hurt him like he hurts you.

You lean up and sink your teeth into the expanse of his neck, tasting the musky masculinity of him. He groans again, and you feel lightheaded, drunk off the sound.

"Fuck you," you murmur against his lips in between kisses. "Fuck you, Santiago Garcia."

"I love you," he whispers back against your mouth. "I'll love you forever."

You don't know whether you love him or hate him or neither or both and it's making you crazy. You knee him in the ribs and he folds forward, his weight dropping onto you. You want to feel every inch of him against you, every dip and curve and rough edge he has to offer.

You're ripping his shirt over his head before you can think twice. He's managed to pull your pants down your legs, throwing them behind him. He tugs at your shirt, gets frustrated, and rips it down the middle.

"Fucking asshole," you spit, sinking your nails into his forearms hard enough to draw blood.

"You don't care," he drawls. "You love me and you don't care."

You grab at his belt, making sure it hits him in his side as you pull it through its loops. When he hisses in pain, you hit him with it again, this time on the ass.

"You wanna hurt me, hermosa, is that it?"

"Fuck you," you grit through your teeth, trying not to cry. "I want to do more than hurt you, Santi. I'd kill you if I could."

He kisses your neck so tenderly in response that you shake with rage. You keep trying to tell yourself that you don't want him, that you're better than this. It's no use. No one else in the world can make you feel the way Santiago can. You're cursed.

He's slipping your underwear down your legs and two fingers into the wet heat between your thighs before you can even think a coherent thought. You whine in response, canting your hips for more.

"You can lie to me all you want, honey. You can fight this all you need to," he murmurs, crooking his fingers. "But your body is giving you away. It always gives you away."

"I said make me forget, not remind me even more," you hiss.

He presses his thumb to your clit in response, the action making your legs go weak. You stop fighting him. Eventually, you always do. You surrender to Santiago, and go boneless on the floor.

"There we go," he coos. "You always give in, baby. That's how I know you love me."

You shake your head, tears welling on your waterline, saturating your eyelashes and making it hard to see.

"You do, baby. You do. I wouldn't be here if you didn't."

He speeds up his fingers, and it feels so good you see stars. Santiago leans down to kiss the spot underneath your ear, the one that makes you melt.

"Tell me the truth, my sweet girl. Please," he rasps against your skin. "Tell me you love me. Don't lie to me."

You're trying to clamp your mouth shut to stop the words escaping. They're on the tip of your tongue, begging to slip free. To make the pain go away.

"Please," he begs. "Please, baby."

He hooks his fingers just right, and your vision goes white. You're thrown into your climax with no warning.

"I love you," you gasp as you come. "I love you, Santi. Fuck."

You come down from your high, chest heaving, sweat dripping down your skin. You look up at Santi, and watch as the tears fall down his cheeks.

"I knew you did," he chokes out. "I knew I wasn't crazy. Fuck, I love you so much. I'll never let you go again."

He smashes his lips to yours, both of your cheeks wet with emotion, slipping against each other.

"I still hate you," you spit into his mouth.

"I know," he soothes back, running his tongue over your teeth. "I know."

This is the way it always goes.

Santi lines himself up between your legs, sliding home with a gasp. This is where he belongs. Home.

You throw your arms around his neck, trying to plaster yourself to his front. He rocks his hips steadily, sending you both sliding across the floor.

This is the way it always goes.

The two of you never make it past the hallway. Whenever Santiago comes back to you, it always ends with the two of you tangled together on the floor, limbs intertwined and bodies connected. You once tried to move the two of you to the couch, but Santi fucked you so hard you slid off the cushions anyway.

Much like he's doing now.

He snaps his pelvis into yours, the force of it making you keen. You're gasping into each others mouths, hands grappling at whatever you can find. His grip on your hips is so tight, you know you'll be black and blue tomorrow.

"Tell me you're mine," Santiago rasps into your mouth. "Please, baby. Please. Tell me you're mine."

You're so close you can taste it. As much as you don't want to admit it, the key to your release is those two words. You need to let go in more ways than one. You need to let go of the pain, the resentment, the regret, the false hope. You need to let go of everything, and surrender to the truth.

"I'm yours," you sob, tears running down your cheeks. "I'm yours, Santi. I always have been."

"You're mine," he confirms, pressing kisses all over your face. "And I'm yours, baby. I'm yours forever."

That's all you needed.

The two of you fall over the edge together, chests heaving and hips stuttering. You reach up to tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling him down to your mouth. You're gasping against his lips as he chants sweet nothings against yours, the two of you panting and writhing.

Santiago collapses against you, his body acting as a weighted blanket. You wrap your arms around him, tracing absent minded patterns across his sweat slick skin. He tucks his head into the crook of your neck, pressing occasional kisses wherever he can reach.

"I meant what I said," you murmur into his hair. "If you hurt me again, I'll kill you. I know at least three people that'd help me cover it up."

"Are those people Benny, Frankie and Will?"

"No comment."

He chuckles lowly, moving to press his forehead against yours.

"And I meant what I said. I'm yours. I'm yours forever."

This is the way it always goes.

[spctrsgf]

mi luz

based off of this comment i wrote on tiktok: “he looks like he could use a hug and a shoulder to cry on.”

word count: 2.2k

warnings: nonspidey!reader, language, hurt to comfort fic (miguel needs a break. like a sabbatical or something)

a/n: ngl, i'm not too happy with how this turned out, probably because i wrote it all on a plane and it's not beta read, but i need more soft miguel fics in my life!!!

He’s tired.

He’s tired and he’s missing you. The boring, monotonous walls of his office harshly remind him of his place, the jubilant orange glow of his monitors tell him of just how much more work he’s got left before he can finally retire to your world.

Lyla, lounging atop one of his screens, watches him and his glossed over eyes, knowing exactly what the lazy flick of his fingers meant. She sighs, glitching over to bring one of his screens forward. “Miguel!” She yells, scaring the poor man out of his thoughts and momentarily extending his claws. “Lyla, what the fu- what the hell?” He growls, reaching up to pinch the bridge of his nose.

“No kids are here, you don’t have to keep it PG.”

“Whatever.”

“Look, you got work to do, and if you don’t finish it soon, it'll be too late to get in some quality time with this lovely human,” she shoves the digitized photo of you up and into his face. “Before your next mission.”

He sighs, knowing she was right.

“Daydreaming about it isn’t gonna get you there any quicker,” she flickers to be right in front of his face, slapping a hand onto his nose as if she could actually touch him. “GET YOUR SHIT DONE.”

“Fine, fine! Get out of my face.” He grumbles the second sentence, swatting her away and strolling back up to his screens. His eyes catch on your photo, and he reaches to enlarge it in front of him, but—

“No,” Lyla dissipates the photo before he can even get to it, face twisted in disappointment. “No. Not until you finish working.”

“Hey! Who’s the boss here?” 

“Me. Now work.” Lyla glitches out of view with a triumphant huff.

He huffs dramatically, pouting as he pulls himself together. He lets his emotions drop from his face and slides into his stoic mask, resuming the work on his screen. It’s hypnotizing as soon as he gets into it; Lyla must’ve done something to keep him focused, he supposes. She always does have a trick up her sleeve.

In what feels like no time at all, he’s done with his work. With a final, defiant tap to close down his screens, he spins on his heel, ready to leave and go home. Ready to hop in through your window— as much as you hate when he does that— and rest his head atop yours, caging you into where you’re surely stirring something on the stove.

But as he turns, he’s face to face with none other than Hobart Brown. A look to the left reveals his partners in crime; and Miguel knows he’s in for a ride. At least a ten minute detour, as it always is with the four of them. 

“What?” His hands come to rest on his hips naturally, trying to become bigger to them as if it would make the next words out of their mouth more blunt and less angering. “We have a slight problem—” Gwen starts, before Pav butts in.

“It's not slight. It’s a pretty big deal!”

“Mate,” Hobie huffs. “That’s not helpful.”

“I’m trying my best!”

"Yeah, and that's going great-"

“Okay, stop it, all of you,” Miguel interrupts before they can go down the rabbit hole, trying to keep his already strung thin patience steady. “What’s going on?”

“There’s another fight going on.” Hobie gives the answer blunt, to Miguel’s satisfaction.

“Cafeteria?”

“Main hall. Sector D.”

The huff that erupts from his lips draws a colorful picture of his current emotions as he hops off of his elevated platform. “I’ll fix it.”

“Whoa whoa whoa,” Miles brings himself to stand in front of the man. “We’re not gonna hurt anyone, right?”

“I can’t make any promises.” He brushes past the kid, dismissing him with a shake of the head. 

“Miguel. Don’t take your anger out on them–” Gwen tries, but all it gets is his recoil and daunting stalk towards her.

“I will do whatever the–” the swear word is on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows it down. “I will do whatever is needed, but violence is not my first course of action.”

“Please be nice to everyone,” Pav says, peeking over Gwen’s shoulder. “It’s been a long week for all of us too.”

Miguel sighs and brushes past them, saying nothing. He brushes off their words in silent agreement. He didn’t really want to hurt anyone either. 

By the time he reaches where he'd been informed the fight was, there was a mosh pit encircling the brawl, a mass of blue and red and spidermen. He approaches from behind, the tide parting for him as each person registers his presence.

When he meets the pearl in the oyster, the hotheaded spiderman hasn’t noticed him quite yet. He’s got the other spidey— one of the many spiderwomen— beneath him, gnarly fist raised to land another punch. Miguel sighs, grabs the back of the man’s elbow, and dragssss him off.

“Everyone get away now.” His tone squeezes the air out of the room and leaves no room for discussion, not that anyone would dare to object. The spidermen flee the scene before he can even finish his sentence, and by the time he’s turned back to the perpetrators of it all, they’re gone too.

He pinches the bridge of his nose, murmuring a low cálmate under his breath as he moves to regain his bearings. “Lyla,” he waves the said woman near.  “Find those spidermen and remind me to get to them when I come back.” She sputters to focus in front of him, dipping her head in an obliged nod before sputtering off again to wherever she found herself needed. 

Miguel shakes and unclenches the fist he’s made with his free hand and stalks back to his office, rubbing the palm of his hand where his claws had taken purchase amidst anger. 

Sometimes, he regrets putting himself in charge of all of this… shit.

But… he’s the only one who can do it. No one had the vigor, the dedication, the understanding of why and what had to be done to keep the multiverses in line and make sure what happened to him never happened again. 

It’s tiring. It takes his nights and his days and chips at his brain until he’s sure there’s nothing left in the expanse of his head. For someone who appears naturally angry, he’s quite good at keeping all the real anger in.

The downside of this: he bottles it all up. But the bottle isn’t big enough, doesn’t last forever, cracks at the seams, and then shatters in a explosion of tears. It enjoys crumpling him into the floor, loves the way his hands shiver in the cold breeze, shakes him to the core and, for all his confidence, makes him doubt.

Lyla’s only seen him like this once, when he couldn’t get away and instead had to sequester himself into his office, not quite getting to hardwiring her nosy personnel to do something else. 

No, he doesn’t rely on her, as he normally would with other problems. He doesn’t trust her, he doesn’t even trust himself with post breakdown Miguel, no. 

He goes to you.

You. The lovely, kind person he’s had the great privilege of calling his. His love, his support, his everything, or better yet; mi luz. My light. The light at the end of the tunnel, at the end of the world, when he feels like the walls are caving in and there’s really nowhere else to go and nothing more to lose.

You calm him, like you always do. Effortlessly caring, eternally so. Never afraid to give, to let him take and take until he’s stuffed whole. You know little things about him, take the time to learn them. Like where to get his favorite empanadas— much better than the ones in the spidey cafeteria— and that he loves when you press your fingers into his shoulder blades. He loves your massages.

He loves you.

Tapping insistently at the shitty gadget on his wrist, he mindlessly pulls up the coordinates for your dimension. Second nature. He’s walked himself into some obscure corner of the building, but he isn’t processing such mundane things at the moment. He can feel himself slipping, the mask fracturing. He can’t be left alone right now.

You.

The portal is up now, flashing and glitching in an assortment of colors, beckoning him in with its delectable light, like a halo. Miguel wastes no time giving in, diving into the portal and tucking himself tight like a torpedo.

Multiverses zoom by as he glides through hexagons and hexagons, thousands of people in each. Worlds that he keeps steady, safe, perfect. Normally, he’d stop to smell the flowers, observe and appreciate the sereneness of every special home in front of him. Pride himself in the fact that there was a special home for someone to come home to. 

But not this time. No, this time he keeps his eyes screwed shut, he wouldn’t, couldn’t get distracted by the novelty. The bottle is cracking now, cracking into long and sharp spikes aching to slice across his chest. He’s so close, all he could get himself to do was focus on his breaths. In and out, in and out, in and out—

The abrupt warning of your multiverse approaching pinches his wrist, reminding him that this whole mess was very much real. He stumbles into your living room with a not so quiet thud, startling you. You drop the spoon you were stirring something with— smells like some sort of sauce, yum— and whip your head towards him.

He’s got his arms wrapped around you before you can even process that it's him, burying himself in your neck and inhaling the calm scent of you, a mix of your perfume and your detergent, so very you. 

“Miguel.” You sigh into his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his waist as the initial shock of his intrusion wears off. 

He slumps into you, only trusting himself to let out a low grumble of your name. 

“What’s going— oh,” your brain puts two and two together. “Oh, Miguel, shh. It’s okay, I got you.”

And he breaks. Because he knows you mean it. He knows you have him. You always do.

The tears are bubbling over the rims of his eyes and splashing down his cheeks, his hands are twisted up in your loose shirt. He’s sure his claws have made an entrance too. One of your hands reaches to turn off the stove, the other rubbing incandescent patterns into his back. 

You were always so careful. Never leave the stove on, Miggy. Don’t wanna burn the food. He loves that about you.

“Hey,” your voice wisps in through the fog of his mental breakdown, of the end of the world. “Hey. It’s me. Just me. Your absolute favorite person on this planet.”

“Multiverse.” He manages through sob induced hiccups. 

“Multiverse,” You smile, breathing out a soft laugh as you toil him in closer. “Breathe, my love. I have you. Nobody is here but me, and I’m not going anywhere. Promise.”

He nods, lets himself weigh more onto you.

“That’s it, I got you,” you coax. “Get it out of your system.”

He gives all the tears he has to give. He’s sandwiching you between the counter and his stature, but you don’t seem to mind. Your spilling words, mindlessly, talking until he’s done and ready to attach himself to them, the soft baritone of your voice.

And it takes time, but he gets there. He’s in the tunnel, the walls are caving in, he’s believing he's given all he has to give, but you’re there, and you’re telling him no, no you have not. You don’t get to lose, because you have SO much more life to live.

His light.

The tunnel lets up, opens up the walls, lets him bathe in you, in the way your arms are still hooked tight around his waist and you’re going on about how there was a new episode of your favorite show that he had to watch. 

And of course he would watch it.

He’d do anything for you, anything you asked whenever you wanted. And he knows, in turn, that there wasn’t a damn thing in this god forsaken reality that would stop you from doing the same for him.

You tell him as much. To his face, into his hair, with the dance of your fingers on his back, in the way you guide him to the couch, when you place down some food and a cup of water— you just cried out your backup supply— and again when you place yourself down next to him.

“I’m so beyond lucky to have you.” He murmurs to you, some fifteen minutes into the episode of your show, something about this dude with a metal helmet and a green baby? He can’t recall the name.

You turn, a smile gracing your features. “You deserve me. You deserve everything the multiverse has to offer and more. Dunno what I’d do without you.”

“You’d have one less person bothering you.”

“Ah, yes,” you laugh, swatting his cheek. “Like you’re such a nuisance.”

He laughs, actually laughs. It’s nice.

You tilt your head onto the girth of his shoulder, snuggling in tight as your attention is again sucked into the screen.

He smiles dazedly at you, finally feeling at peace.

Mi luz. My light.

is anyone else still obsessed with him or is that just me