#sigh. at least Poe is fun to write.
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karl-raccoon-in-a-teacup · 2 years ago
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Pros of writing a Poe-centric murder mystery fic: Exploring a genre I love, Poe gets to show off the skills usually outshined by Ranpo, getting to come up with a clever scheme, etc etc
Cons of writing a Poe-centric murder mystery fic: Writing a murder mystery is very hard and the narrative consistency has me at gunpoint help
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sp4ceboo · 2 years ago
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Mi Amor: Poe Dameron x Reader
A/N: poe had a good time busting an imperial base somewhere so he went to the bar to celebrate and have a better time
Warnings: alcohol, iNeBriAtiOn (he gets drunk), i can't write spanish and neither can google translate, apart from that it's hella wholesome,
Transalations: mi amor = my love, bobo = silly, other translations are in the main text,
Word count: <1000
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You're walking through the base's cantina bar, trying to find Poe among the crush of other tipsy pilots, when your ears catch a soft echo of his voice. It's slurred, the letters crashing into each other as he sings some sort of tune engineered to poke fun at the Empire, but it sounds amazing in his warm baritone anyway. Carefully edging your way past a few pilots taking shots at the bar, you nod to a few people who are sober enough to recognise you before you burst through the throng to find yourself face to face with Poe.
His face lights up when he sees you. 'And here's my sweet cheeks!' He crows. 'You came just in time!' 'Sweet cheeks,' you mutter to yourself. 'That's a new one.'
Poe slings his arm around you, attempting to lean against the bar but stumbling and falling against you instead. You sigh, grabbing the collar of his leather jacket to steady him, smiling when he dips his head, trying to peck you on the lips but instead missing and colliding with your cheek instead. Rolling your eyes, you turn to the pilot to your left.
'How much did you give him?' She grins. 'He said he could take it. He didn't want to look like a lightweight.' You laugh. 'Poe can never back down from a challenge, can he?' 'No, he can't,' the man himself cuts in proudly. 'I never back up either.' 'Good to know, mi amor,' you reply, noting the liquid spilled all the way down his shirt. 'Let's get you home, huh?'
Tucking your arm around his shoulder, you support him as best as you can to the door while he waves frantically at the others, greeting them with a lopsided smile and bright, happy, slightly hazy eyes. Finally, you manage to drag him outside, where you hope the cold night air will sober him up at least slightly. It does no such thing; instead, he cranes his neck and stare up at the stars with a child like look of wonder. Grabbing your hand, he tugs you close, hugging you to his side and kissing your hair.
'Mira las estrellas,' he whispers, falling back into his mother tongue in his intoxication. Look at the stars. 'Son tan bonitas como tú.' They're as pretty as you. You laugh. 'Gracias, mi amor. Podría decir lo mismo por ti.' Thank you, fly boy. I could say the same for you.
He gazes at you, swinging your intertwined hands between you. Clinging on tight to you, he gazes at the base as if he's never seen it before, then stares at you as if you've got a second head. Slowly, he reaches out and smooths your hair down, his touch gentle as he murmurs something that might be 'pretty' under his breath. Suddenly, he pipes up, switching back to Basic as you begin to walk to the quarters the two of you share.
'You're my number one.' You wrinkle your nose in confusion. 'Your number one what?' 'My number one everything,' he giggles. 'My number one darling, my number one sweetheart, mi amor número uno...' My number one love... 'So, who's your number two, then?' You ask. He gives you a dopey smile. 'You as well. You're my number one, and my number two, and my number three, and my number four, and my number - ' 'I get the gist, Poe.' He tilts his head, almost tripping over a tool box he couldn't avoid fast enough. 'But don't you want to find out if you're my number five?' You raise his hand to your lips and kiss his knuckles. 'Tell me later, love.'
Poe huffs but obediently trundles along beside you, periodically stumbling over his own feet and crashing into things which the more sober version of him would have danced around with ease. You're not used to him being this drunk, and to be honest, he's sweet. Normally, he's precise, his face always fixed in that cocky smirk, nothing like the starry eyed grin he wears now. He won't let go of you for a second - as if you're the one who needs protection - and every few minutes he'll glance over at you and grin, mumbling something in his own language about how beautiful you are.
Eventually, you arrive at your quarters, and after a few seconds of thought you decide that he's not going to make it out of the shower. You need to change his shirt, though, it's still covered with some liquor or whiskey of some sort, and you don't want that on your sheets when he finally crashes. Tugging him into your bedroom, you make him sit down on the mattress and wait as you find a clean shirt.
'Arms up,' you say briskly. He obeys, and you shimmy his shirt up, attempting to get it over his head, when suddenly, he speaks, his voice muffled by the damp fabric. 'Wait, I have a girlfriend, what - ' You yank the shirt up over his head so he can see you. 'I am your girlfriend, bobo!' He gives you a stupid grin. 'Oh, yeah.'
You wrestle the clean shirt over his head, and as soon as his arms pop through the sleeves, he locks them around you, burying his face in your shoulder. Sighing, you ruffle his thick curls, tugging lightly at them to prise him off you as he babbles about how good you smell. A chuckle escapes you as he slips on nothing and plummets face first onto your bed, letting out a half indignant, half terrified squeak as he falls. Groaning, he flops over, making very persuading grabby hands at you, and you indulge him, lying down beside him and allowing him to rest his head on your chest. He sighs contentedly, and you run your hands down his back in a way you know will make his eyes droop. A yawn cracks your face, and you kiss his forehead as his lashes flutter.
'Duerme ahora, mi amor,' you whisper.
Sleep now, my love.
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zukkaoru · 1 year ago
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kunikida & nikolai + "me and this guy? we spooned last night."
yosano & fitzgerald + "is my integrity worth anything at all?"
dazai & poe + "promise me you'll think about the implications!"
ranpo & naomi + "hey, babygirl" *throws a piece of candy*
jouno & gin + "give me your gender"
fyolai + "i'm nobody's pawn, i'm a queen"
tehe i am SO helpfullllllll actually no for realsies i hope these help ilyyyy
oh boy okay let's go i hope you enjoy beloved ily <3
“Me and this guy?” Nikolai grins, goofily, and jabs his thumb in Kunikida’s direction. “We spooned last night.” Kunikida immediately flusters, his face going bright red. “WHAT?!” He demands. “We— That’s not— You—!” “Wow…” Dazai drawls as Kunikida continues flailing. His gaze flits back and forth between the two. Kunikida’s embarrassed stammering and Nikolai’s easy amusement. He doesn’t believe for a moment that Kunikida was casually cuddling with a literal terrorist, but it’s much funnier if he pretends he does. “I didn’t know Nikolai-kun was your type! Has he seen your list? Does he really meet all of your requirements?” Kunikida stops. Nikolai’s smug grin also dips into confusion. Dazai is about to have so much fun with this.
send me a sentence (+ a ship) and i'll write the next five sentences
(the rest are under the cut. we've got angst, silliness, chess sex if you squint really hard, and.. omg is that-- dazai and ranpo fake dating?!)
-
“Is my integrity worth anything at all?” Yosano demands. Despite the fire in her words and the unspoken threat wedged beneath them, Fitzgerald holds his confident posture. One leg crossed over the other, hands folded on his knee, meeting Yosano’s gaze head-on.
“We made a deal,” he states.
Yosano’s hands clench into fists at her side. “I will not use my ability like this,” she growls. “If it didn’t work the first few times, then I’m afraid there’s nothing more I can do. I refuse to fruitlessly bring someone to the brink of death so many times.” She doesn’t want to give up. Truly, she wanted to help Fitzgerald and revive Margaret, but she knows what so many repeated deaths does to someone. Even if it’s only near-death. Even if they remain unconscious.
She won’t do it.
She can’t. Not again.
-
“Promise me you’ll think about the implications!”
“Erm…” Slowly, Dazai peels Poe’s hands from where they were clutching at his shoulders. “Yeah,” he says slowly. “We’ve thought about it, I promise.”
“Have you though?” Poe challenges. “Have you really?”
They haven’t. Definitely not. But Dazai is not going to admit to Poe, of all people, that he and Ranpo decided to start fake-dating on a whim two weeks ago just to make their coworkers uncomfortable but now that the gossip has spread beyond the Agency and they’re having to face the mortifying ordeal of being known head-on, Dazai is sincerely starting to think maybe he should have considered the implications before agreeing to this.
So instead, he simply offers Poe a sympathetic smile. “I promise I’m being at least a mildly decent boyfriend to Ranpo-san. And, hey, they’re totally polyamorous so you might still have a chance!”
-
“Hey babygirl,” Naomi calls across the office. Ranpo looks up, opening his eyes just long enough to successfully catch the piece of candy she tosses at him. Once it’s secure in his hands, he snaps his eyes shut and grins.
“Thanks, babygirl,” he responds. He unwraps it and pops it into his mouth as Naomi giggles.
Over at his desk, Kunikida lets out a long-suffering sigh.
“Don’t worry, Kunikida-kun,” he calls over. “You’re still the ultimate babygirl!”
Naomi’s giggles erupt into gleeful cackling, and Ranpo grins. Someday, they’ll get Kunikida to crack and join in on their little game. But until then, they’ll simply continue playing with their fun coworkers. Like Naomi.
-
“Give me your gender.”
Gin and Jouno both freeze immediately, looking over at Tachihara (or, in Jouno’s case, simply turning their face towards him). As soon as he realizes they both have their full attention on him, his hesitant smile turns fearful.
“Me?” Gin signs “Or them?”
“Yes,” Tachihara says. And then, “No. I don’t know! I just wanted you two to stop fighting!”
Jouno frowns. “Tachihara-kun, I do not have a gender for you to take. You know this.”
Gin snorts, which only results in Jouno turning back towards them. They point an accusing finger. “I am not done with this argument! We will resume as soon as I’ve figured out what is wrong with Tachiahra-kun.”
Gin raises their hands in surrender, which they hope is a movement Jouno can hear.
To their left, Tachihara sighs.
-
“I’m nobody’s pawn!” Nikolai proclaims. He moves a piece across the chess board. “I’m a queen!” He folds his arms over his chest, grinning triumphantly.
Fyodor frowns. “Kolya…you can’t make that move.”
“Hah!?” Nikolai looks down at the board. “What do you mean? That’s the queen; I can move her anywhere!”
“No.” Fyodor sighs. He pinches the bridge of his nose and wonders why he even agreed to play chess with someone notorious for breaking every rule he comes across. “She cannot jump over other pieces. You jumped her over two pawns and a rook.”
“No I didn’t, ‘cause I zig-zagged her around them.”
“That’s not how chess works.”
“It’s how my chess works!”
Fyodor closes his eyes. He takes a deep breath. This is going to be…a very long night.
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iwritenarrativesandstuff · 2 years ago
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@ticklinglady : Your girls are too cute not to be interested in! Plus I know little to nothing about haiku, so it was always good to learn more on the subject :D
And writing the story is only up to you of course, but I'd love to read it 🤭 The little info that we have is intriguing enough and the characters seem rather charismatic
Also thank you for the permission! <3 Please tell us more about Maurice LeBlanc! It makes for him to be more mysterious than the others, but getting to know him a bit more would be lovely.
And can you also ramble about the ladies of the Special Division more ? 🥰
You hear the sound of deep sighing. *adds wip number 25 to the list*
I really appreciate the interest though! I like these little guys a lot already. I'm really no expert on haiku, more of a casual enjoyer. However, I did a little more research in order to create the characters.
Leblanc is fun, I think! He is a thief (of course) who is interesting in the challenge he poses to Ranpo over the course of the story because it's not so much about discovering "who committed this crime" - everyone knows it was him; he outright advertises it lol - as it is about actually catching the guy or stopping him from striking again. In that sense, he's intended to be a worthy opponent, something which makes Poe feel a little insecure. Ranpo finds Leblanc an amusing challenge, if a bit irritating, while Poe can't stand him lol. Leblanc is all about the drama and performance of it all, but his targets are usually rich assholes, so for him to be going after some ability artifact is odd - and this is why Ranpo actually starts to properly go after the guy so he can get answers and confirm his suspicions.
The Special Division girls! Yes, I can talk about them a little more! I can't remember exactly what I mentioned earlier, so sorry if I've basically just repeated myself. Sugita and Takeshita are members of an offshoot branch of the Special Division in charge of safely monitoring and storing objects and artifacts that are created or imbued with powers from an ability. Sugita is one of the up and coming stars of this branch and she knows it - she's confident, a bit of a showoff, and loves hearing how good of a job she did. Thing is, she actually is very competent - she's good with her twin pistols and is an excellent field agent. However, Sugita is also kind of infamous for her really sharp mood swings - usually she's pretty upbeat, but if the slightest thing goes wrong, then she turns to being extremely dramatic and upset about how nothing is going right or ever will again, or swearing her revenge if the "something that went wrong" was due to someone being a jerk. Takeshita especially hates when she gets like this, because often Sugita will not leave her alone until she's finished venting about it hjdhdb
Takeshita is sort of Sugita's partner - at least they often get thrown together on missions, which annoys Takeshita to no end because she does not like her, even though Sugita is very convinced they're good friends. Takeshita works another job outside of being an agent as a tutor for young children in order to support her own. As such, she rarely has any downtime and is near constantly working. She's bitter about her life and situation, and it becomes clearer later on that a lot of her dislike of Sugita is actually more jealousy for the way she can be so free-spirited while Takashita is kind of stuck.
Here, I made these really rough kind of crappy five second doodles. Their designs will probably change up a bit, in all honesty
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Left to right: Sugita, Takeshita, Leblanc
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go-hux-yourself · 3 years ago
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Mine
More omega!hux alpha!poe unapologetic kink/PWP no one asked for :D I’ve been meaning to post this for well over a week now but i keep getting sidetracked with other fun stuff aaaaagh
Also on my ao3 here :) My masterlist archive of bullshit i write can be found linked at the top of the blog or here.
--
“General, we kind of have a problem.”
Poe sighed at the hangar-tech that stuck their head into the room. It was a beta who’d been with them since the last stand; one of many new people whose names he didn’t quite know yet.
Poe leaned back a little in his chair. His joints popped as he did, realizing how long he’d been at work already. “What kind of problem?”
As if the alpha didn’t have enough on his plate right now.
Winning the war seemed almost simple compared to the endless amount of paperwork needing his personal attention. Requests for assistance, or resource allocation approvals, or action reports. Finn wouldn’t even be back from the diplomacy mission with Rey for another two days, and Poe was the acting General for both of them in the meantime.
“It’s— We’re not sure who it is since they won’t answer, but there’s an omega in heat locked in one of the supply closets.”
“As in ‘locked themselves in’, right?” Poe sighed. “Did you call medical, already?”
“No.”
Poe gave an openly annoyed look. He didn’t have time for this. “Why?”
“...not everyone on the duty-roster is accounted for at the moment.”
Restless nights took their toll on Poe’s patience, and he failed to see how that was anything significant or even related, the point clearly lost on him. He gestured openly to the mess on his desk. “Look, I have a lot of work to do; just tell me what’s going on. Did something happen?”
“...Only two of the unaccounted-for techs are omegas, and one of them is Hux.”
Fuck.
“Hux? As in-”
“The Starkiller.”
Poe pressed his lips together in annoyance, finishing his thought. “Our spy. Yeah, him.” He got up from his seat, not happy but not surprised either with the regard of the omega ex-general. “How long’s he been in there?”
“At least an hour since I’ve been here talking to you.”
An hour of a heat spent in a supply closet in the middle of a busy base. Hux was probably on-edge and miserable. Poe might not be his mate, but he was his…
Something…
All the flirtation of the past weeks was definitely something by his reckoning, even if they’d not shared more than hasty, passionate kisses and touches in stolen moments on the base. It was serious, at least in his opinion, and he liked spending time with the other man more than anything else. He felt like he could be real with him in ways he just couldn’t with others.
Hux was very much the same.
“An hour? Why didn’t you get me sooner?”
“It took awhile to figure out who it might be and who to get.”
That was hardly an answer; medical would’ve been the first to be alerted at any other time. Poe hoped the delay in seeking him out wasn’t malicious, and a result of indecision instead. Hux wasn’t especially putting effort into being liked, but without the omega general, they wouldn’t have won the war. It was a hard fact in Poe’s mind. It didn’t erase everything else, but it meant something.
He stood from his desk for the first time in a few hours. He needed to find BB-8 to help him out with this.
“I’ll handle it.”
Poe stood outside the maintenance closet Hux had locked himself in, and frowned. It was one of the larger ones with spare parts and supplies, powered-down cleaning droids for the hangar, and an absolutely miserable place to have an unexpected heat.
He looked down at his feet where BB-8 beeped inquisitively up at him, and nodded. Hux was definitely in there.
He knocked gently before speaking close to the door. “Hey, uh, Hugs? It’s me— uh, it’s Poe. I’m gonna come in, okay?” He looked down to his droid. “...you got it, right, beebee?”
The little droid beeped confidently before unlocking the door. Poe didn’t yet open it, kneeling down and patting the droid gratefully. “Can you be my eyes out here?” The droid trilled inquisitively. “I’m making it up as I go, buddy, but you’re definitely part of it.”
BB-8 happily moved back and forth, and Poe said a quick thanks before standing back up.
Poe let himself into the closet, and the first thing that hit him was the undiffused scent of the other man, nearly making him weak in the knees for how suddenly it hit him. The alpha gripped the doorframe and breathed for a moment. The auxiliary lights were on, but the main ones were off.
He was about to power them on until he found the lanky omega had wedged himself into a dark corner between a box of extra droid parts and shelving. His scent was heavy, and the space he crammed himself into was furthest from the door. Hux looked a lot smaller like this, leaning into the corner with his knees pulled up to his chest. He was closed into himself so tightly that it looked like his control might break any moment. Poe wanted to comfort him immediately.
“Fuck, Hugs, you okay?” Hux lifted his head to look at Poe, meeting the alpha’s eyes. He looked weary, feverish, and relieved all at once. “I’m gonna shut the door, okay?”
“…Dameron?”
“Yeah. Yeah it’s me.” Poe paused over the door mechanism, and Hux pointedly waited for him to use it.
“Shut it, please,” Hux urged, and he watched as the other man did as told, shutting out the sounds beyond and leaving them to the dim of the auxiliary lighting. Poe met his gaze, and Hux was so miserable that he would’ve reached out if he wasn’t scared his control might shatter with any movements. “...I ...I need help.”
“Yeah, that’s what I was told,” Poe agreed, moving closer in the space and slowly crouching down to get on the omega’s level. He couldn’t help enjoying the scent the other man was giving off, but the pilot remained level-headed under the circumstances, concern outweighing arousal. “I’ve got BB-8 outside to help clear the way and get you out of here. No one will say anything. You’re safe with me, I promise. I’ll get you out.”
Hux shook his head with a miserable laugh, and met Poe’s eyes. His nostrils flared, and he closed his eyes for a moment as he took in Poe’s alpha scent. “Getting out of here isn’t the kind of help I want….”
Poe felt his pulse quicken. “Hugs, you don’t wanna spend your heat in a supply closet. Let me get you out of here back to quarters. I’ll keep you safe,” he said protectively, feeling possessive of the other man. It was Hux’s scent— fueling Poe’s desire to help with his whole being, possibly even with his dick- that was making the alpha’s blood run a little hotter. He wanted to reach out and touch him; physically comfort him.
Hux made a pleased, embarrassed little noise at Poe’s tone, his face flaming, and hidden back into his knees. “...this isn’t– I can’t just… walk out of here, Dameron… Not when I’m- Not when I’m desperate,” Hux admitted with a frustrated whine.
Poe could smell just how desperate Hux was for an alpha, and the knowledge made blood run to his twitching cock. Poe had made more than one omega wet through their pants before from sheer arousal, and Hux’s scent was at least as heavy. The sexual frustration was just as palpable, and even if he hadn’t been in heat for very long, it was clear it was hitting him hard and fast. Desperate didn’t even begin to cover how aroused Hux’s scent was right now, and the fact that he was sitting still containing himself spoke to levels of control Poe never thought possible.
Poe really wanted to help. His cock in particular wanted to help the omega with his problem. They hadn’t done much together yet, stealing little moments from the never-ending supply of things needing to be done. Poe had wanted to romance him, take it as slow as Hux needed, but sometimes they barely even had time for a chat, let alone something more romantic. Hux’s inexperience with romance was obvious but he was enthusiastic whenever Poe kissed him, not wanting to stop if Poe allowed it. Always handsy with the alpha whenever they got a moment together, shy to initiate but passionate when reciprocating.
Eager was the word Poe would’ve used for it. He was certainly feeling it himself right then. He’d do whatever Hux wanted, whatever he decided, even if that was just getting him back to his quarters and getting him suppressants and leaving him be. Poe wanted to help as much as he wanted him. Which, with how good Hux smelled, was a lot.
“Tell me what to do for you, and I’ll do it,” the alpha offered earnestly. Whether that was run interference for him, or fuck him, Poe wanted to be a part of the solution. He hoped he could be part of the solution. They’d been dancing around each other in overt flirtation long enough to be considered officially courting. Poe might not have been his mate, but he cared for him like one. Liked to think about it sometimes just before he fell asleep. “Anything you need done, whatever you want, Hugs.”
“…Anything?” Hux asked as he looked at Poe with a hopeful expression.
Poe nodded. “Anything.”
“Fuck me, please?” His voice was so polite it dumbfounded Poe a moment, and Hux burned too hot with arousal already to feel the heat of shame for blatantly asking. His gaze stayed on Poe as he begged the other man. “It-It’s entirely unbearable, please- I can’t— There is literally no one else I could possibly ask, and I want-- I need-”
“I’ve got you—” Poe reached out, and Hux grabbed his arm like a lifeline.
The alpha didn’t haul him out of that corner so much as Hux pounced into his arms at the contact. Poe growled in pleasure in his throat as he finally held the other man flush in his lap for the first time. It was a closeness of particular intimacy, and Poe couldn’t help but thrill in how badly he wanted it. He’d take the best care he could of the other man in his heat. He’d prove himself a capable choice of mate if ever there was a chance.
Hux himself just needed more. He scrambled to hold Poe back, clinging, closing the space between them without reservation. His scent blossomed in the air, and he pressed his whole body against Poe’s own. “I need you, please. Poe. Please. I’m in the middle of hostile territory and no one else is safe and—”
He broke off to whine into Poe’s neck, the sound turning to a rumble of a growl as he inhaled the alpha’s scent with a sound of near-relief. Hux rubbed his cheek into Poe’s own and was grinding down against the other man. Poe’s soft little gasps of pleasure urged him on. His hands moved restlessly about Poe’s back and dove right into his hair without reservation. Hux wasn’t normally so brash in his touching, conservative in his exploration of the alpha and following Poe’s lead. But now he was brave, arousal fueling his movements.
Hux was clearly trying to get his scent on Poe; mark Poe for himself. His zeal in the matter was seriously doing it for the alpha. It flattered Poe more than he deserved, he knew, as Hux was in heat, but the desperate way Hux seemed to meld himself with the alpha made Poe painfully hard in his trousers. He loved being touched by Hux. He loved being the object of his attention and affection. Being this physically close to him was a fantasy that Poe had jerked off to more than once. He kissed Hux’s cheek and then the shell of his ear, stroking Hux’s back to reassure his somewhat frenetic movements as he did.
…He wished they were in the privacy of his quarters instead of the hangar’s maintenance closet.
“You’re not in the middle of hostile territory,” Poe spoke, mouth dry and wetting his lips. “You’re one of us,” he said possessively against his ear, deciding to take the lobe between his teeth. It earned him a moan, and Hux writhed in his lap as he clung. Poe sighed at the contact breathily. “You’re the reason we won the war. Without you— Despite what anyone else says, it’s because of you, Hugs, and everyone knows that makes you one of us.”
But only mine, he secretly added in his mind as he scented the other man. All mine.
Hux ground down against his tented trousers with a whine, making Poe groan. “You talk way too much, Dameron,” Hux complained, but he was so impatient and frustrated that his voice was more of an inconvenienced whimper as he huffed and breathed in Poe’s scent.
Poe kissed him, and the soft, sweet sound that left Hux’s mouth would be forever embedded in the alpha’s mind afterwards. Right alongside the openly-trusting way Hux looked at him when they broke. Normally so guarded, his expression was like an open book. The omega knew he was safe with him, implicitly trusted him, and if Poe wasn’t already mostly in love with him, that expression in Hux’s eyes did it for him.
“I’ve got you, Hugsy.”
Hux groaned, but it was one of annoyance. “Please not that. I much prefer ‘Hugs’, if you must…”
“I must.” Poe got his hand down the front of the other man’s pants, shuddering as his own cock flexed when he delved deep enough to encounter slick. He’d wanted to do this with Hux for so long— hoped one day their relationship would naturally move in that direction- that actually being allowed to touch him and stroke him and love him was like living the dream.
Hux moaned at his touch and gasped and panted, and Poe’s hips lifted up towards the omega instinctively, wanting the other man. He was so slick and hot and aroused out of his goddamn mind and he just wanted to be satisfied. If Poe could take the edge off first, then he’d whisk the other man away to the safety and privacy of his quarters after.
“Fuck, baby, you’ve been here like this by yourself the whole time?” Poe stroked Hux’s omega-cock within his underwear, using the man’s own slick to gain delicious friction. “You want some relief?” Hux moaned and sucked on his neck as Poe stroked him. “I’m gonna make this so good for you, make you—” Hux cried out unexpectedly, and he was already coming in Poe’s hand, shaking and gasping in sounds that almost made the alpha come untouched.
“...Dameron… oh...” Hux sighed out softly, breathing hard against the alpha’s neck. “Oh yes…” Poe was still stroking him through the echoes of pleasure, and pressed open-mouthed kisses to Hux’s neck and throat. Hux thought it was the nicest post-orgasmic feeling yet. “…Poe,” Hux sighed again, and Poe didn’t stop touching him in reassurance.
“That was good, that was perfect,” Poe purred approvingly, kissing his jaw and dragging the tip of his nose against Hux’s skin. “That was so good, Hugs. I’m glad that felt good.” He grabbed a shop towel from the shelf above them on the wall and wiped off his hand, then hugged the omega and ground a little lazily up into him. He pressed a kiss to Hux’s cheek as the man clung, still panting heavily and sighing. He’d get him out of here in just a minute, after Hux had a little chance to come down.
“Poe…”
Before Poe could say ‘what’— smiling in pleasure every time Hux used his first name- Hux was kissing him again hungrily, seemingly energized by the orgasm instead of wrung out. His tongue in Poe’s mouth made the alpha moan, kissing back just as deeply.
Hux squeezed Poe with his arms and ground down on the alpha’s hardon with a whine of frustration. Rather than relief, now he felt even more aroused. That orgasm hadn’t taken the edge off so much as it honed it, and he wanted the other man desperately. This was already the best and worst heat ever.
The moan Poe made at Hux’s enthusiastic grinding awed Hux, and the omega felt powerful and brilliant for making a man like Poe make a sound like that.
He needed more.
“I still… it’s not enough, Dameron… I-I need— Would you please fuck me? Poe? Please?”
The wrecked sound of Hux’s voice on his name made Poe’s cock leak and jump. He was all aboard fucking the man into next week, but he just wished it wasn’t here. He was breathing heavily himself at this point, wanting to grant every single thing the omega wished of him. “Hugs, baby, let me get you to your quarters— Wait, no mine’s closer- but--”
“No—” Hux’s hands went to the front of Poe’s trousers with authority, undoing his belt while the alpha groaned and thrust his hips into Hux’s hands in encouragement. Apparently Poe liked a little jostling and manhandling. That knowledge in Hux’s head made him pause to kiss Poe’s lips again before his hands made back for his zip. “I literally cannot wait ’til then. You smell so— Oooh I love your scent Dameron… how in the— kriff.”
Poe moaned at Hux’s busy hands, cock twitching at the thought of Hux enjoying his natural musk. He wished he couldn’t also pick up the scent of droid grease and engine supplies mingled with Hux’s scent, but that was the nature of the space they were in. “I didn’t want our first time to be in a supply closet, Hugs...” Poe’s hands squeezed at the omega���s hips with neediness, pulling Hux down into his lap contrarily. He nipped at his neck below his jaw as his hips jumped against Hux’s hands. “I wanna give you better than that.” They were in a maintenance closet that supplied the main hangar, and though it was plenty serviceable, he thought Hux deserved so much more. “Let me get you to my room, baby.” He could get them in there and fucking in less than five minutes if he ran and Beebee cleared the way.
He stated as much.
“No!” Hux argued. “Don’t make me actually beg for your cock, you General pain in the arse,” he stated, mocking Poe’s rank and making the alpha laugh in delight at his refusal. “Fuck me now,” Hux commanded, kissing Poe’s lips and nipping the bottom one in the way Poe was always doing to him.
It made Poe’s cock jolt and his body shudder in arousal. The noise that left his own mouth was desperate and obscene. “Fuck… that’s hot when you take charge. You're hot when you take charge.”
“I’m feverish. Fuck me, Dameron.”
It was as much of an order as any given when the man was still a First Order general, and the expectation that Poe would follow through and obey was doing it for the alpha more than he wanted to admit. Poe returned the kiss, moaning as he felt Hux’s insistent tongue in his mouth. He loved this. He loved being able to do this with Hux. He was so flattered that the omega saw him as being worthy of taking care of his heat. He wanted to make this really good for the other man. “Mmm, yes General, sir, you’ve got it… Whatever you want, at your service…”
Hux moaned, and Poe let himself dive into pleasing the other man, and doing exactly what he wanted. They might not be mates, but they were as good as, in Poe’s book, and he’d take care of the omega no matter where they were. If Hux wanted to fuck in the closet, well hell, they’d fuck in the closet. Once he could get them out of there, though, he was ensconcing them away in his quarters for the rest of the week to dote on the other man.
Poe spent as much time as Hux allowed in worshiping the omega’s body as he stripped it. Which wasn’t a lot, with how impatient Hux was. Even if the touches and kisses were followed by a litany of moans, and Poe didn’t even get his mouth on his cock, yet.
“Dameron– ooo-Oh… do all this later, darling,” Hux pleaded as Poe was on his knees before him, pressing kisses to his hip and stroking his thumb over the delicate skin as he undressed him. Hux’s cheeks were hot not just from his heat, but from the reverence that the alpha treated him with.
Poe looked up, eyes nearly black as they were dilated in lust, and rubbed his hands over Hux’s thighs. “I want it to be good for you, sweetheart—”
“It’s already good, better than good,” Hux promised, hands coming to cup Poe’s face affectionately as the man looked up at him. No one had ever been so soft and sweet with him, let alone prioritized his pleasure. Not unless they wanted something. And as Hux’s thumbs stroked Poe’s cheeks, he knew that the alpha just wanted him. “So good, Poe,” he praised, “Just, I can’t wait—”
“Okay, okay, I’ve got you,” Poe promised right back as Hux came down to straddle his lap completely nude. The omega ex-general couldn’t even wait for Poe to get his own pants more than unzipped, desperate as hell for the other man. “Fuck, I’ve got you, baby...”
Poe kissed Hux back as the man was kissing and nipping at his neck and jaw, and he had to maneuver a little to free his hard-on since the other man refused to get up from his lap. Their movements together made Poe moan, and Hux leaned back just enough for the alpha to pull himself out.
Hux’s eyes widened as trousers were opened and he stared greedily, eyeing the wet-spot on the tent of his underwear before Poe even pulled out his cock. He was long and thick and all the answers to Hux’s many problems, and the omega could feel himself clench on emptiness in desire for the alpha.
Poe grinned under Hux’s inspection, and the omega general licked his lips, pleading as he moved to crouch so he might mount Poe’s cock without further delay. His cheeks were flushed a pretty pink in arousal as Hux pressed at the alpha to move him as he wanted. “Oh, please oh please, Poe—”
“It’s okay… yeah… I’ve got you, baby…”
“…I’m so glad you’re here,” Hux told Poe as he was pushing the alpha onto his back on the floor. Poe willingly went, hands stroking and caressing and holding as Hux took the lead. “…I… I wanted to tell you— to ask you, before- if you would do this for me— but then I– oh… Poe…”
Poe pulled him down to kiss him, flattered so much that Hux had always wanted to ask him to get him through his heat. To be trusted, wanted on that level, only made Poe want him more. He was going to take good care of him, and make sure it was the best heat ever.
Hux gladly returned his kiss. The omega threaded his fingers through Poe’s hair, making the alpha sigh while he studied him. He was getting dizzy on Poe’s scent, relief so very very close, and he was weak with want for the other man.
“I would have said yes in a heartbeat,” Poe swore, pressing a kiss to Hux’s chin before the omega sat up again. Poe cupped his cheek in his hand, stroking under the other man’s delicate cheekbone with his thumb. “It’s still a yes now. And for next time. I want you. I want to get you through your heat.”
“Oh stars, yes…” Hux spoke softly, turning his head in Poe’s hand to kiss the alpha’s palm. He closed his eyes when he did it, and when he opened them, he met Poe’s eyes with confidence.
When Hux actually sank down onto Poe’s cock, the alpha thought he’d explode right there. The swears that left Poe’s mouth in pleasure were in more languages than the alpha knew how to speak, and the soft little noises and moans that Hux gave already had him at the edge.
When Hux was coming again, body pulsing around Poe’s shaft as he’d barely started to ride him, the alpha sat up and gathered him snuggly into his lap to thrust into him while he still could from below. His knot was already beginning to thicken, arousal burning through his body for the other man that instinctively saw him as his mate. They were wrapped up in one another, Hux’s release between them on Poe’s belly as Poe came with a body-shaking groan of pleasure. His knot fully swelled and locked them together for a time. They held one another in their arms, breathing hard til they caught their breath.
As soon as they were unstuck, Poe was going to get Hux safely squared away in his quarters so they could do this all again, except they’d both be nude, with nothing between them. He was sweaty and uncomfortable under his clothing right now, but having Hux on him was entirely worth it.
Hux was more shy than upset about being knotted in a supply closet after the fact. He enjoyed the face to face cuddling as he sat in the alpha’s lap with his legs wrapped around Poe’s middle. His cheeks burned at the affectionate little kisses the alpha placed about his jaw and temples and just shy of his lips. His eyes burned when Poe touched his nose to Hux’s own, followed by a soft press of lips to his own. It felt close, intimate in ways Hux craved all his life, and Poe was a natural in giving that affection.
“…Let me take care of everything,” Poe gently coaxed, his words hanging heavy, loaded as he loved on the other man. It felt like he wasn’t just saying for this heat, but long after that. The rest of his life, even. They’d certainly danced around one another long enough. Hux wasn’t difficult to love. He only wished the other man had come to him sooner to help. He wanted Hux to only experience nice things from here on out, and he was confident that he could do that. “Let me take care of you…”
Hux just moaned and nodded, enjoying the hungry feel of Poe’s lips at his neck and throat, and warm, reassuring arms around his bare back holding him close. Whatever it was Poe was offering him, Hux wanted it. His brain was fuzzy with the pleasure of afterbliss, sated and safe for the moment, but through it all Hux knew he wanted Poe. He was safe with Poe.
He loved Poe.
Telling him that, though, just like asking him to take care of his heat, was something Hux hadn’t worked up the courage for yet.
And like his heat, it would work it out for itself.
Coming out the other side of Hux’s heat bonded was never Poe’s intention or plan, but he’d done it, and there was no taking it back.
Hux wasn’t even mad. Preening would have been a more accurate remark. The guilt Poe had felt upon discovering what he’d done had dissipated with how pleased Hux was by it; and how Poe knew Hux was truly pleased, thanks to that bond. The marks Hux’s own sharp little omega teeth had left in Poe’s skin spoke for themselves, and Poe wasn’t upset about it, either. The possessive, protective thing inside him was pleased on an altogether different level, and proud to have claimed the other man with such finality.
Hux turned a pleased shade of pink every time he looked at the marks he’d left on the alpha, and the low-necked tunics he himself took to wearing were boastful of the fact. Hux wanted everyone to know he’d been chosen. That he was good enough that someone would want to bond with him. That he was able to choose in turn. It was territorial and loud and proud and so very-much Hux, and Poe loved it.
“You’re mine,” Hux stated softly as they sat outside late one evening a couple weeks after his heat. His palms were on either side of Poe’s face, thumbs fondly brushing over the alpha’s stubble. The smile melting onto Poe’s face at the touch was mirrored in how content he felt.
“That’s right,” Poe agreed, turning his face into one of those hands and kissing the palm. He put his own hand over Hux’s, warm and fond and utterly content. “All yours. Do with me as you will.”
Hux snorted, an amused look on his face, interest thrumming in their bond. “…someone might see what I want to do, Poe…”
Poe raised a brow. “I like how you think…” Hux snorted but grinned, and Poe scented his omega’s wrist before kissing above his pulse. “We can always go back to our room?”
“A little bit longer. It’s been a while since we’ve sat and enjoyed the night,” Hux told him, taking back up where he’d been admiring and stroking Poe’s face in the coolness of the night air. “I’m very pleased with you, Poe Dameron.”
“Full name, huh?”
“Only for matters of seriousness,” Hux said with a look of utter fondness. “…You know, I never thought I’d get to bond. With you, or anyone. I've thought about it often. I’m glad it happened how it did,” Hux told him honestly, taking Poe’s hand and smiling; being able to just take Poe’s hand, even. It was such a pleasure. “It wasn’t something arranged or staged. It was… natural. Real.” He stroked his thumbs down the line of Poe’s jaw fondly. “…There’s also the merit of more romance; to be wanted so much.”
“Oh, I’ll romance you,” Poe promised, pulling Hux close for a kiss. He definitely wanted Hux, no ifs ands or butts about it. One-hundred percent real, Hux had that right. “I would have still liked to have talked to you about it, or at least asked, not just—”
“Hush, it’s all perfect. You make me extremely happy just by being near me, let alone bonding with me.”
Poe just laughed and kissed him again, loving him so much.
He’d been kept busy by Finn once Hux’s heat had ended, trying to make up for dumping all his work on the other alpha during that heat, and this was the first night off he’d had in a while. It did feel kind of perfect in a way. Just being near Hux made Poe extremely happy, too.
“I’d still like to ask you, proper-”
“To bond with you?” Hux interrupted archly, amused with Poe’s propriety. Teasing though he was pleased by the prospect. “When it’s already done?”
Poe shrugged, but he was grinning. “I dunno... We could always get married, too.” A great multitude of micro-expressions played across Hux’s face then, accompanied by a tumult of deep emotion that had Poe pulling him reassuringly-snug against him, still grinning unapologetically. It was definitely the right move. “Marry me, Hugs. Will you marry me?”
Hux didn’t answer with words, but nodded quickly, not needing to think about it for even a moment. He blinked as his lips quivered, trying to hold it together. All the things the omega wanted to say, but couldn’t, Poe could feel the depths of within their bond.
Hux went into the hug Poe wrapped around him as the alpha still laughed happily— kissing Hux’s cheek and his neck where he’d marked him- as Hux snuffled into his shoulder, overcome with emotion.
The overwhelming happiness and contentment running through them was equally felt- perfect— Poe knew it was all perfect- just like Hux stated. He’d work to make sure it was; make the other man as happy as he was. It was a goal he was perfectly happy to make his utmost priority, and as Hux held him tight, he knew it was right.
…Finn would never catch up with work once they had a wedding and a honeymoon and a life to plan together. Poe knew he couldn’t fool himself into making anything but his mate his utmost priority; not with how happy his love made Hux.
Hux placed his palm against Poe’s throat, gently cupping the mark he’d left there with a sniffle as Poe smiled and pressed a kiss to his neck.
…Maybe Finn could promote a new general to pick up the slack.
--
fic archive post |  my kofi | ao3 main
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therenlover · 4 years ago
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Therenlover’s Official Fanfic Glossary!
Hey hey hey! This is the place where you can find all my up-to-date fanfics linked nicely, read about what projects I have upcoming, and learn what requests I’m taking at the moment! Cheers!
This post is massive so, for the sake of your dash, everything is under the cut
A NOTE ABOUT REQUESTS!
I will do my best to fulfill any requests I get while my ask box/requests are open! That being said, I cannot promise every request will get done, and that if they do, they’ll be done in a timely manner. I’m currently working on a long-form project that needs a lot of time and energy to come out consistently, so unless I’m doing a writing event most of my writing juice will be focused on that. That being said, if you want something ask! The worst I can possibly do is direct you towards someone else who might be able to write what you want if I cant.
If I choose not to do your request based on personal preference (it makes me uncomfy/I don’t write for the character at that time/I don’t feel I can write what you want/etc.) I will do my best to contact you and let you know! That being said, if you think your ask got buried/forgotten, feel free to message me again and let me know, but please tell me when you message me if I should be looking for a prior request.
Characters/Fandoms I will write for currently
 💙 = I’m Currently Super Inspired To Write For This Character
Marvel/X-Men
Bucky Barnes
Loki
Peter Maximoff 💙
Pietro Maximoff
Helmut Zemo 💙
Hank McCoy
Ralph Bohner 💙
Vision
American Horror Story
Tate Langdon
Kit Walker 💙
Kyle Spencer (Pre- and Post- Death)
Jimmy Darling 💙
James Patrick March 💙
Kai Anderson
Fallout 4
Nick Valentine
Hancock
Star Wars
Poe Dameron
Armitage Hux 💙
Kylo Ren/Ben Solo
Finn
Han Solo
Assorted/Random
Diarmuid Ua Duibhne - FGO
Cu Chulainn/Cu Alter - FGO
Warren Lipka - American Animals 💙
Enjolras - Les Miserables
Grantaire - Les Miserables
Gabriel - Supernatural
Imagines - REQUESTS CLOSED
Songs From Musicals Y/N Would Sing To The Evans
Characters: Tate Langdon, Kit Walker, Kyle Spencer, Jimmy Darling, James Patrick March, Kai Anderson, Peter Maximoff
Rating: T
How The Evans (+ Quicksilver) Would React To Yoplait’s New Gushers Yogurt
Characters: Tate Langdon, Kit Walker, Kyle Spencer, Jimmy Darling, James Patrick March, Rory Monahan, Kai Anderson, Peter Maximoff
Rating: T
Would The Danny Bunch Survive A Holiday With My Family?
Characters: Laszlo Kreizler, Alex Kerner, Niki Lauda, Andrea Marowski, Ernst Schmidt, Helmut Zemo
Rating: T
Headcanons - REQUESTS CLOSED
Modern! AU Armitage Hux Boyfriend Headcanons
Zemo With A Well Dress S/O Headcanons
Zemo Getting Jealous Headcanons
Oneshots - REQUESTS CLOSED
Marvel/X-Men
Helmut Zemo
One Last Night In Madripoor
Synopsis: Baron Helmut Zemo is a lonely, wanted man looking for some fun, you’re a piss-poor bounty hunter in search of a connection before leaving your life of crime behind, and fate has brought you together at a party the likes of which has never been seen before. You only have one night left in Madripoor, so why not take a chance?
Rating: 18+
Word Count: 4200~
Still Some Catching Up To Do
Synopsis: As a member of the criminal underworld, people walk out of your life all the time. Some are killed, others kill themselves, most get caught and only a couple get out of the life unscathed, disappearing into the world never to be seen again. Very few walk back in. So when your supposedly incarcerated ex-lover, the Winter Soldier, and the Falcon waltzed through your door and made you murder your boss, needless to say, you were surprised and more than a little bit pissed.
Rating: 16+
Word Count: 6800~
Nine Years Starved
Synopsis: It had been a little over nine years since Helmut Zemo lost his family, his country, and his sanity. Nine years since his last kiss. Nine years since he felt like a human man. Finally, he was ready to start over again, but first, he had to pay his penance back where it all began; Novi Grad. That’s when, by the grace of the fates, he met you.
Rating: G
Word Count: 7000~
Daddy Dearest
Synopsis: Not everyone gets lucky enough to go from being a broke college student in New York to being the sugar baby to literal royalty, but not everyone is you. Most people would be worried about messing things up or losing him to someone else, but you knew he would never find another baby just like you. Besides, you knew exactly what to do to keep him wrapped around your little finger. He may have been the daddy, but you pulled the reins.
Rating: 18+
Word Count: 8000~
In Fleeting Touches & Airy Sighs
Part One   Part Two   Part Three   Part Four
Synopsis: As a wanted man, Helmut Zemo spends most of his time jumping from place to place in the hopes of avoiding a trip back to prison. Unfortunately, that means he can’t always be home in your arms. When he is, though, in the rare moments of calm, you’re reminded of just how worth it it’s been to wait, even if that wait was only shortened by the arrival of your enemies.
Rating: 18+
Word Count: 35,700~
Two Bodies In The Rain
Synopsis: It was raining the day you finally had to admit your feelings to Helmut. You hated to tell him the way you did, under the grey skies as your blood pooled below you, but at least you knew, in the end, he had seen the real you, even just once. That was enough.
Rating: T
Word Count: 5600~
Rest
Synopsis: Living life on the lam with your escaped super-villain lover means things rarely slow down enough for a real rest. When the exhaustion starts to take its toll on you, though, he knows exactly what to do to ease the pain. He may not be a good man, but he’s a good husband when it counts.
Rating: T
Word Count: 3200~
American Horror Story
Jimmy Darling
Red Nights In Jupiter
Synopsis: At the end of another long day, you fall into bed with Jimmy Darling. The men you served throughout the day don’t matter then, nor do the coins in the mason jar by the door, or the women scheduled to attend Jimmy’s next Tupperware party. No, in that quiet darkness it’s just you and the man you love, bone-tired and happy to be home. Who could ask for more?
Rating: 16+
Word Count: 3000~
James Patrick March
Heartsick
Synopsis: When you fall ill, James is given a forceful awakening about how he’s been neglecting your needs and what he must do to prevent harm from befalling you again.
Rating: 16+
Word Count: 3700~
In Sickness And In Health
Synopsis: Normally people don’t have their wedding and funeral on the same day, but you and James don’t quite have a normal relationship, do you? Besides, you wouldn’t wanna go any other way.
Rating: 18+
Word Count: 5500~
Fallout 4
Currently Empty
Star Wars
Currently Empty
Assorted/Random
Currently Empty
Long Form Works/Series
Young Artist!Zemo AU
Chapter One: The Boy With The Easel
Synopsis: About a month into your first semester at Novi Grad’s top university, you finally meet the strange young man that you’ve taken to calling “easel boy” in the back of a bookshop. From a distance, he always seemed cold and aloof. As you get to know him, though, you realize things aren’t always what they seem.
Rating: T
Word Count: 7000~
Till Forever Falls Apart (A Peter Maximoff/Reader Series)
Chapter One: Welcome Home
Synopsis: As if getting thrown through the multiverse, trapped in an attic (albeit a cool one), mind-controlled to manipulate his grieving sister, and subsequently dragged out of Westview “for his own safety” by the FBI wasn’t enough, Peter Maximoff has now been shipped off to New York to live with a glorified baby sitter like some tragic orphan in a comic book until they find a way to get him back home. Things are not always as they seem, though, and this change might just be for the better.
Rating: T
Word Count: 2400~
Chapter Two: The Doctor Is In
Synopsis: Peter’s first few days in his new home are mostly uneventful, so he decides it’s the perfect time to dust off his running goggles and steal some shit. The building with the massive circular stained glass window seems like a great place to start! People with buildings that lavish are usually rich and weak, so what could possibly go wrong?
Rating: T
Word Count: 2800~
Chapter Three: It’s Always Been You
Synopsis: After a month of adapting to his new universe, Peter Maximoff can confidently say that he likes his new life more than his old one. Sure, he misses home sometimes, but he’s been far too busy flirting with his new roommate to spend time crying over the things he’s lost. Everything is smooth sailing until a strange journal in his roommate’s study leaves him with more questions than he knows what to do with. Now he’s on a mission to discover who he’s really living with before she has the chance to turn against him.
Rating: T
Word Count: 8600~
Chapter Four: Before You Go
Synopsis: Peter, after days of contemplation, has realized that part of him loves Y/N no matter what she is or what she’s been through. Unfortunately, he can’t find her anywhere. When she finally returns home with the intention of leaving again, Peter realizes it’s his last chance to tell her how he really feels. Will he succeed, or will he fail to be fast enough once again?
Rating: T
Word Count: 4000~
Chapter Four And A Half: Gimme Swayze
Synopsis: Now that the issue of Y/N leaving is out of the way, and Peter has finally kissed her, he falls into the motions of learning how to love someone for the first time. It’s easier than he thought it would be.
Rating: T
Word Count; 2600~
Cakes For The Evans: A Blogging And Baking Adventure!
Kai Anderson’s Disaster Cake
Hey you! If you’ve made it this far down the list, thanks for supporting me as an author! I’ll be linking my AO3 here. I post everything there shortly before I post it here, and there are some older fics there you might enjoy along the way! It’s also easier to drop comments over there and I keep them open for non-members, so give me a shout if you liked what I wrote!
I love you all, you make me so happy, and without you support I would never be motivated to write! Cheers!
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basilly · 4 years ago
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salty hair with no care || cc!niki x reader
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☼ a part of my series, life’s a beach!
summary: after some salty sea fun, niki provides relinquish and comfort under the shade
pronouns/gender: gn | they/them
note: last one!!
warnings: swears/cursing
not edited
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dropping your bag, you shuffle of your sandals, letting the sand sink in between your toes. the rest of the members set down their items besides you, ready to set up for a day in the sun.
"y/n! let's go test the water!!"
karl was almost bouncing with excitement, ready to jump in the water at full speed.
"hold on karl, we should help everyone with umbrellas and what not." "last one in is a rotten egg!"
tommy had bolted off, leaving karl to dash after him. you only shake your head with a smile at them.
"y/n, why don't you go join them?"
niki had stood behind you, loosely wrapping her arms around your waist, face pressed into your shoulder blade.
"let me at least help-" "we got it, i know you've been dying to go in." "alright."
reluctantly you pulled away, running after the boys.
---
effectively soaked and exhausted, you climb back up towards the sand and your guys' spot, ready to crash onto a towel.
niki sat under an umbrella, watching everyone enjoy the water. noticing you come up, she parted her legs slowly, patting the spot she opened up.
you sat down, back on her chest, laying your head in her neck. you let out a sigh, glad to be back on land.
"your hair is going to get tangled."
in a tired hum, you mumbled.
"mm let it." "y/n. sit up."
you almost groaned, but you knew niki was only going to help. slowly you got up before she braided your hair, tying it off with an elastic or two. as she braided, you let your eyes rest, enjoying the sounds of the waves and niki's light touches on your head.
going back to your previous spot once she finished, relaxed against her, you lean up to press a kiss against her jaw.
"thank you." "anytime love."
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taglist:
@popixdaisy @sun-fiower-seed @writingwieny @tinyegg @alm334 @spaceandstars @rowe-n @oh-mcyt @rended-symphony @ditzyjitters @cr0wbonezz-wr1ting-inc @attemptingsomething @alilcloudy @stup1dclown @twist3dtinkerbell @thequeenofuwu @inniterhq @dysfunctionalcrab @mitzimania @fantasy-innit @okayzandria @mlqcool @truthdaze @alex-awesome-22 @thisratbastard @blumarzipan @sloxth-poe @stxrrynite @eggingamazinglove @dinochickenuggs @sunshinewrites-sunnie @endtis-unknown @lorenaaayk @m0shrooms @queensunsetx @nutellaperson @lakifaki @xxmrshoranxx @snowybasil @bi-narystars @punzcanrailme @i-mmunity @qnfs @queerentj @savingpluto @piano-boo @sulibbyyyyy @cvsmixpaint @katevaro @golden-hoax @omnikinesisgobrrr @averylittlebee @cscooop @pxint @l0ver0fj0y @yamturds @griffoniantt @technospherex @afamous-simp @technosoot @ohworm-writes
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imagineyourworld · 4 years ago
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Never Date a Pilot
Poe Dameron x Genderneutral!Reader
Summary: When he hears that you’re going on a date with another pilot your best friend is anything but happy
Warnings: None
Masterlist
-------
“You’re going on a date with Jak Milson?” 
You put the datapad you had been working on down and looked up at Poe. Your best friend was standing in front of your desk, arms crossed in front of his chest and disbelief written all over his face. 
“Hello to you too, Poe”, you sighed. From the way he was looking at you you knew there was no chance you’d get back to work soon. “And yes, I am going out with Jak.” 
For a moment Poe just stared at you in silence, then he put both of his hands down on your desk and leaned closer to you. 
“Why?”, he asked. Just a single word and yet it had you riled up. Yes, Poe was your best friend, but years ago you had established one single rule for your friendship: You would not talk about your dating or sex lives, at least unless one of you had a serious partner and the topic could no longer be avoided, but so far that’s never been the case. 
“Do we have to talk about that now?”, you asked. You lifted your hands and motioned around the room. It was only when you looked around a second later that you noticed that although there were ten more desks in the room, all of them were empty. You were alone with Poe. 
“Worried your boyfriend is gonna come in?”, Poe scoffed. 
It was the tone rather than the words that made your gaze return to him. Sure, Poe could get mad, but even then he didn’t talk to you in that tone, especially not when he had no reason to be mad in the first place. 
You leaned back further in your chair and sighed. Apparently you had been right and this conversation would take some time. 
“He’s not my boyfriend, I’m just going on a date with him.” 
“Why?”, Poe asked again. 
Abruptly you jumped up from your chair, causing him to take a step back from you so your heads wouldn’t crash together. You walked to the other side of your desk until you were standing right in front of him. 
“I thought we agreed not to talk about dating.” 
Instinctively Poe nodded, but just a second later he shook his head. You rolled your eyes at your friend. Didn’t he see that you had a lot of work to do and didn’t want to talk about this? 
“So I have to abide by your principles and you don’t have to?” 
He stepped closer to you, so close that your chests were almost touching and you could see the tiny golden specks in his eyes. Usually being this close to him would make you flustered, but today it only made you angrier. 
“What the hell is that supposed to mean?” 
“Did you know he’s a pilot?”, Poe asked just a fraction of a moment after your question has left your mouth. 
You stared at him, your mouth opening and closing, your hands forming fists so tight you could feel your nails biting into the soft flesh. 
“I did.” 
You didn’t add that that might have been part of the reason you agreed to go out with Jak in the first place. Being a pilot, having soft curls, warm brown eyes and an easy smile he reminded you just enough of the person you would rather go out with to maybe forget about the best friend you have been pining over for years and move on. 
All of the sudden the fight left Poe. He no longer stared at you with blazing eyes, but instead looked down at his feet, almost defeated. And no matter how much you just wanted to smack him a second earlier, now you longed to hold him until the worry lines on his handsome face disappeared. 
“Poe”, your voice was barely above a whisper, scared you’d say the wrong thing. “What’s the matter?” 
You reached out to capture both his hands in yours and gently rubbed soothing circles on his knuckles. “You know you’ll always be my favourite pilot.” 
Gently, but determined, he pulled his hands out of my grib, though his eyes stayed locked on his feet. 
“And yet you break your rules for another pilot.” 
His voice was so soft and quiet, it took you a moment to fully register his words. Once you did, however, you were even more confused. Hadn’t he said something about rules earlier as well? 
“Poe, would you stop speaking in riddles? What rules are you talking about?” 
Finally he looked at you again. By now his expression was no longer angry or sad, it was plain confusion. You realized you probably didn’t look much different. 
“Do you really not remember your rule about never dating pilots?” 
You couldn’t keep the laugh that burst out of you contained. What on earth was he talking about? Sure, you’ve never dated a pilot, but that was partly because Jak had been the first pilot to ever ask you out and partly because you didn’t want to date just any pilot, you had a specific one in mind. 
"I never came up with a rule like that."
“Of course you did!”, Poe exclaimed, a bit of the earlier fire returning to his voice and face. “Jean-Lyn’s seventh birthday party.” 
He said the words with such a conviction that he must believe them to ring a bell, but you just shook your head. 
“Poe, I barely even remember having been friends with someone names Jean-Lyn and certainly nothing that happened at their seventh birthday party.” 
If the situation were less serious you might have laughed at the way hurt, confusion and realisation chased across Poe’s face. 
“You really don’t remember, do you? We were playing a game or introducing ourselves or something, I don’t know, and we were supposed to say what we wanted to be when we grow up. I said that I was going to be a pilot and marry you, and I was one hundred percent convinced of both, but then you said that you would never date a pilot.” 
You knew you shouldn’t laugh, after all, Poe was telling you about a childhood memory that clearly meant a lot to him, but you couldn’t help it. 
“So you’re mad at me for something I said more than two decades ago? Poe Dameron, you are such an idiot.” 
You were still laughing when Poe spoke again, but his words made you quiet down quickly. 
“It’s not funny. Your words made me rethink my career countless times and if it weren’t for this war and the Resistance I would have quit flying years ago just to ask you out. And now I find out that you don’t even remember your own rule and are going out with a pilot that isn’t me.” 
Finally it dawned on you. You remembered Poe thinking about not going to the Academy, wanting to quit flying and become a teacher instead, glaring at anyone who got close to you, but never another pilot. 
A smile made its way to your lips. 
“You know, there’s a pilot I would rather go out with that Jak”, you told Poe. 
You didn’t know whether it was the years of friendship or the amused, yet loving and hopeful, expression on your face that told Poe you were talking about him, but he seemed to understand. 
“I never said anything about going out with you, I said I want to marry you.” 
His broad smile was matching yours and only grew when you pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. 
“How about we go on a date first, flyboy?” 
Instead of an answer Poe put both of his hands on your waist and pulled you closer. 
“Under one condition: Your new rule is that you don’t date a pilot who isn’t me.” 
“I hate being told what to do”, you whispered against his lips. “But in this case I might make an exception.” 
Instead of an answer Poe leaned down just a tiny bit more until your lips finally met in a soft kiss that sent fireworks through your entire body.  
You had no idea why seven year old you said that she’d never date a pilot, because it was inevitable that Poe would become a pilot and there was no one else you’d rather date. 
-------
Is this cute? Is this stupid? All I know is that writing this was more fun than doing my assignment
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nincompoopydoo · 4 years ago
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LOVE IS STRANGE
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PAIRING: Poe Dameron x reader WORD COUNT: 1.9k SUMMARY: The union of Ireca and Mohash may seem a typical cliche of love in comparison to your depressingly lonely state, but when a certain poster boy pilot emerges during the celebration, you wonder if love works in other underlying ways. A/N: I found this in my google docs, first written about a year ago. so, wohoo i present to you my first ever poe dameron content, i think? he's so charming and carelessly beautiful. please leave a comment and tell me what you think or what else you'll like to see from me 💖 gif by @john-seed from this gifst WARNINGS: mentions of alcohol and getting drunk, space swearing. support my writing through ko-fi💖 MASTERLIST
Love is strange. Delicate yet fierce. So forceful that it manages to seep through the cracks created by bombs and gunfire of war. Unexpected at times, appearing out of nowhere. Yet, it’s beautiful because it brings those with beautiful hearts and minds together, entangled in the constant dance of intimacy and devotion.
It’s what Ireca and Mohash have.
Ireca was from the Logistic division, a mechanic herself and your colleague. She was to be married to her long-time lover, Mohash, a flight engineer for the Cobalt Squadron. As far as cliches go, wartime love falls along the lines of a romance cliche. Yet, war was all you’ve known. It’s what everyone has ever known. It’s common to develop some kind of a feeling other than the constant emotions during battle—fondness, the feeling of falling in love with someone. It’s truly what we stay alive for.
Maybe that’s why you hate it so much. The absence of the feeling that everyone describes as so fucking amazing that it completes you. You feel empty most of the time. It’s definitely the reason why you put all your effort into fixing things you can rather than complicated problems and issues that continue to reside in your mind, especially in the wake of midnight.
You find yourself sitting by the makeshift bar, tucked away from the crowd of friends and colleagues. There’s music playing, the sound of drums, and the seven-string hallikset reminds you of your brief visit to Naboo three cycles ago. You’re nursing a warm cup of something that tastes closer to acid water than alcohol.
Ireca emerges from the crowd with flowers in her braided hair. She approaches you with a bright smile and calls out your name wistfully. You shoot a strained smile her way, feeling the bags under your eyes weigh a little more. “What are you doing here all by yourself, huh?” she asks, leaning against the bar with a gentle pat on your shoulder.
“I’m just really tired. Last night was rough. Plus, I’m behind schedule.” you sighed heavily, running your fingers through your hair. She flashed you a smile of sympathy as you continued, “I’m sorry, Ireca. Don’t let me ruin your night. Go, have fun.”
She raises an eyebrow as you take another sip from your cup.
"Go. I'm sure you don't want to miss Mohash's special performance." You gesture to a drunk Mohash, who seemed to be searching for the woman. Ireca merely laughed. "Oh, it sure is going to be special." With a gentle touch to your back and wave, you watch her make her way into the swarm of bodies. You're left alone once again.
You’re still trying to figure out how Mohash even got hold of any sort of alcohol and managed to smuggle it into the base. Someone must have nicked it during one of the previous missions in the Mid Rim.
You rub your eyes, half-awake at this point; your cup is placed beside you as you rest your head against your folded arms on the table. Your mind is in a daze and incapable of irrational thought, deciding it would be best to just camp out here, by the makeshift bar, for the night. You were too tired to drag yourself all the way to your quarters, which felt like miles away, in the first place.
As sleep began to weigh heavy upon your eyelids, you suddenly felt a sharp tap on your shoulder. A soft groan escaped your lips as you shifted your head, still resting on your arms, just enough to peek at your sleep intruder.
It’s Poe Dameron. Commander and Black Leader. Incredibly talented, confident, and effortlessly handsome.
Ugh, you hate this guy.
Yet, you don’t feel so tired anymore.
“Are you drunk?” There’s amusement in his voice with a tinge of mockery. It made you realize the stun you were pulling. Classic Dameron. It was supposed to be a happy ceremony, but it was truly Ireca’s fault for manipulating you into coming tonight. Parties, events, and social gatherings were never right up your alley. You prefer spending time with machinery and your greasy hands.
Poe’s eyes are gleaming under the fluorescent lights, filled with concern, but you spot the smugness in his emerging smile. A flash of a thought, you kind of want to feel his lips on yours. The image immediately stings. You want to gag.
Poe is irritating, arrogant, and careless. Not charming. Nope, definitely not charming.
You straighten yourself, trying to shake off the burning image, shoving it to the back of your head. You lift your head, propping your elbow on the table and resting your chin on the heel of your hand. “You actually think I’ll even touch that bantha shit?”
Tearing your eyes away from Poe, you reach for your cup only to realize it was empty. He casts you a look. Your eyes shoot daggers with an extended pointer finger his way, “Don’t you dare say anything, flyboy.”
Poe raises his palms in defense, lips pursing. “Wasn’t going to.”
You catch a glimmer of mischief in his eyes, one hand discreetly reaching under his tawny leather jacket. Then, a bottle of Corellian whiskey emerges, shining under the lights of the Resistance hangar. Your face lights up at the recognition of the bottle, memories of your rare trips to Corellia, sharing whiskey drinks with your colleagues. It was the only planet you’d been to ever since you joined the Resistance.
You’ve only tasted Corellian whiskey once because of how expensive it is. You’ll happily get drunk to that in a heartbeat. Drink the worry and sorrow away with the lingering taste of frankly exorbitant whiskey.
Like a child with grabby hands, you reach for the bottle, but as your fingers brush his, Poe quickly lifts it to the air and away from you. He smacks your hand away. You whine, feeling a little lightheaded. The contents of the mysterious drink are starting to kick in.
What the blinkin' mradhe muck was in that drink?
“What do you want from me? It’s not like I have a drinking problem.”
He’s giving you that look like he’s judging you, but with a hint of amusement at the slight tug of the corner of his mouth. “You definitely have a drinking problem, but... i'll let you drink this on one condition.”
“For kriff’s sake,” you mutter, rolling your eyes, glancing away. “I’m not doing any weird wacky favors for you, Dameron.”
He scoffs, expression bewildered. “Hey, I don’t ask for weird wacky favors,” He articulates his words with a defensive tone, index finger stretched to your face. You simply smack it away as Poe clicks his tongue and continues to clarify his proposition. “All I’m asking is for you to fix my ship.”
Your wide-eyed gaze flies to him, shaking your head furiously. “Oh, no, no. No. Never in a million cycles. Never in a million millennials. Nuh-uh—”
“Hey, quit being dramatic. It’s a simple job.”
Your eyes grow even wider, voice raising. “A simple job? You fly that ship of yours like we have hundreds of spare ones. I’m not putting all my time and effort into fixing a lost cause.”
“But you haven’t even—”
“No. I’m not fixing your ship, and that’s final.”
Poe blinks and you’re back to fussing over your empty cup. The chatter of the crowd grows louder as a group of pilots of the Cobalt Squadron began rendering verses of an unknown traditional drinking song to your ears. You steal a look to only find Ireca and Mohash amidst a dance, tangled in each other's arms.
He eyes closely, noticing the turn of your lips, trained eyes deem melancholy. He knows the face of a loner very well—usually recruits with lost family and homes. They enlist in a mass community of freedom fighters for the restoration of good in the universe, and to finally feel a sense of familiarity and belonging. He doesn’t know much about you but he knows you don’t truly have anyone to depend on but yourself. It’s the reason why you’re constantly fierce.
Poe clears his throat, shifting closer to you as he watches the way you carry your gradual gaze to hold his. They then flit to the space between the two of you, raised eyebrows acknowledging the weird close proximity of his presence to yours.
“Look, you’re the best mechanic there ever was and probably ever will be. So, fix my ship, and you get to have this Corellian beauty. All of it.” He sways the bottle in the air, but you don’t look at it.
“You know, that’s bribery.”
“Yes, and it’s working.”
You scoff. “No, it isn’t.”
Poe laughs. “Yes, it is. I can see it in your eyes.”
Another scoff, you look fully aggravated. “How dense do you think I am?”
“Oh, very, but let’s not get into that.”
Bickering was the only language the two of you spoke fluently when you found yourselves tangled in a conversation with one another. Thrown insults were spoken lies—saying you hate each other when you know that isn’t true. Well, at least you don’t mean it and you hoped Poe didn’t either.
You’re exhausted, physically and mentally. For once, kindness and acceptance seem to be the easiest route.
A sigh passes your lips as you blink up to the ceiling, sending a silent prayer for blessings from the Maker above. “You’re right. I am dense. Truly dense. So, yeah. Okay. I’ll fix that stupid X-Wing of yours.”
Poe blinks, dumbfounded. “Wait, really?”
With a roll of your eyes, they meet his very own wide ones. “Yes, really. Only because you complimented me. Now, hand me that Corellian whiskey before I change my mind.”
He then makes a sound that resonates between a cough and a pleasantly surprised laugh, eyes crinkling with delight. Poe happily and absentmindedly passes the whiskey to you, still reacting like your agreement is some sort of object of ridicule in the best way possible.
“Wow—Maker, you have no idea what kind of trouble you’re saving me from. If the General ever found out—man, pfft. Thank you. Thank you so much—”
A swift and unexpected motion, he is reaching you, palms clasp and either side of your face, and plants a quick peck on the side of your left temple.
Poe isn’t thinking straight.
There you are, mid-swig, lips so close to the rim of the bottle with eyes so wide. You steal a steady glance at the pilot whose expression seems to reflect yours. His hands are still on your cheeks. He’s unbelievably close to you and he’s staring with that stupid look of his.
‘Maker, preserve me.’
A cheer erupts from the crowd from across the space and just like that, the moment is gone. Whatever the moment even was. His touch is no longer on yours and his gaze shifting away.
The tension, however, is still very present.
You finally take a swig of the whiskey, wanting to ease the sudden tightness in your chest. You hum at the stinging sensation on your tongue. You catch a glimpse of Poe from the corner of your eye who busies himself with tapping his fingers nervously against the surface of the bar.
Then, in an awkward motion, you stretch your arm to him, offering the drink.
A beat. His gaze shifts between you and your hand. When he finally gives in, a smile curves upon his lips, fingers brushing against yours. They’re delicate and you smile at him. It's small, but it makes his heart skip a beat and you wonder to yourself about the strangeness of love.
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tickly-trashcan · 4 years ago
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Treats {Ranpoe}
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A/N: Hello fellow ranpoe lover ilyt! okay listen i got so excited when this popped up bc i literally love these two so much and it’s always so fun writing for them. Hope you enjoy! :D
Summary: Poe has been hit with a case of writer’s block, and when he takes a break to get a treat for him and Karl, he can’t seem to find any. Who could possibly be responsible?
Word Count: 1.3k (under the cut)
Edgar grumbled as he rubbed the back of his neck, Karl chirping in his ear.
“No, Karl, I’m not happy right now,” He admitted. He had been working on a new mystery novel, one that he hoped would truly challenge Ranpo, but he had been hit with a terrible case of writer’s block, and just picking up a pen was enough to drain his energy and inspiration.
Karl chirped again and Edgar couldn’t help but flash a small smile. He scratched Karl’s chin, making the raccoon coo. He stood up from his desk, walking out of the office that he and Ranpo shared in their apartment.
He went over to the cabinet, looking for the little treats that Edgar had for Karl. They were technically cat treats, but Karl liked them all the same.
Edgar raised an eyebrow when he couldn’t find the treats. He craned his neck to look at Karl, who looked very disappointed, and he gave him one more quick chin scratch.
“It’s okay, Karl, I’ll get you some more later,” Edgar said, and Karl chirped again, hopping off of his shoulder and onto the kitchen counter. Edgar opened another cabinet, looking for his own treats that he had for himself. He pushed aside one of the boxes of sugary cereal that belonged to Ranpo, but he couldn’t seem to find his cookies. 
Edgar sighed. Something was definitely up. 
Edgar loved to share snack time with Karl, everyone who was close to him knew this. Sometimes Ranpo would join in, or even Lucy if she had free time. Karl would eat his treats and Edgar would have his cookies. It was special for them.
The front door opened and Edgar turned, seeing Ranpo with a grocery bag, lollipop in his mouth as he waved to Poe with his free hand.
“Hi Eddie!” He called, setting the grocery bag down and kicking off his shoes, trotting over to Edgar and wrapping his arms around the much taller man. “I got more candy!”
“Did you eat my cookies? And what happened to Karl’s treats?”
Ranpo stopped squeezing Edgar for a moment, looking up with a sheepish expression. “I don’t know?”
Edgar huffed. “Ranpo, you and I are the only people that live here besides Karl-”
“Karl isn’t a person…”
“Well he’s family! And I know you had something to do with the treat disappearances!”
Ranpo snorted. He let go of Edgar and walked over to Karl, scratching under his chin.
“Maybe I did, maybe I didn’t. You don’t have any proof!” Ranpo teased, and Edgar crossed his arms, fumbling over his words for a retort.
“Oh yeah? Well I guess… I-I’ll have to tickle it out of you!” Edgar threatened, and Ranpo raised his eyebrows in surprise.
Edgar took one step towards Ranpo, showing he was serious, and Ranpo bolted off into the bedroom, yelling. Edgar chased after him, Karl trotting behind as Ranpo ducked behind the bed.
Edgar walked in, immediately seeing the top of Ranpo’s hat as he huffed, walking over and picking up Ranpo under his arms. Ranpo squeaked and kicked his legs, giggling already as Edgar held him up, lightly digging in his fingers. 
“Eddie! Wahait, let’s talk about this!”
Edgar lowered Ranpo to the bed, and Ranpo looked at him nervously, a huge, guilty grin planted on his face. Edgar pushed Ranpo back, making him giggle again as Edgar felt himself flush from embarrassment.
He had never really tickled Ranpo before. Sure, he had occasionally poked him or tickled him by accident, but never like this. It was normally Ranpo who did the tickling, but Edgar was determined to see this through.
He gulped, placing his hands on Ranpo’s ribs, who clamped his arms at his sides in anticipation, still giggling nervously. Edgar slowly started to move his fingers, lightly digging between Ranpo’s ribs as his shorter partner immediately burst into louder giggles.
“Eheheddie! Nohohoho, not tickles!”
Just Ranpo saying the word was enough to make Edgar’s face go red, but he pressed on. He climbed up to Ranpo’s underarms, making him arch his back and squeal as he scrunched up his nose in laughter.
Edgar remembered that Ranpo normally teased him when he was tickling him. This might be embarrassing… scratch that, it would definitely be embarrassing, but it might get Ranpo to admit to his deeds sooner.
“Well, you’re gonna get t-tickles, whether you like it or not! Unless you admit to your crimes of course,” Edgar started, feeling slightly embarrassed. However, he couldn’t help but adore Ranpo’s red, scrunched up face as he laughed openly, squirming from side to side as he shook his head.
“I’ll nehehehever admit it! I didn’t do ahahahanything!” He protested firmly, and Edgar chuckled playfully. He wasn’t intending for this to be some sort of act, but if Ranpo wanted to play along, he’d give him what he wanted.
“Didn’t do anything, hmm? Then what happened to Karl’s treats? And what about my cookies?” Edgar pressed, dancing his fingers down to Ranpo’s hips, making him buck and shriek as he laughed heartily.
“I dohohohon’t know! Mahahaybe you ate them all!” Ranpo tittered, squealing when Edgar pinched the spot above his hips. He grabbed onto Edgar’s wrists for support, shaking his head so much that his hat fell off as he whined.
“I know I had some left! I always buy a new box when I’m running low, so where did they go? There had to be at least ten in there, Ranpo,” Edgar said.
“What happens if I tickle you… here?” Edgar teased, slowly teasing the sides of Ranpo’s tummy, making the shorter man positively squeal.
“Nohoho! Not thehehere! Eddie~!” Ranpo yelped, squirming as Edgar raised an eyebrow, switching to light tracing of circles on Ranpo’s sides.
“Why not? Is this the spot that’ll get you to admit what you did? Or are you gonna keep lying?”
“I’m nohohot! Plehehease, don’t tickle me thehehere!” Ranpo giggled like a small child, his laughter rising in pitch as Edgar closed in on his tummy again. He skittered his fingers across the expanse of his tummy, pinching at the sides before lightly scratching at his lower tummy.
“EHEheheddie!! Plehehease, it’s so bahahad!”
“Oh, it’s bad? Should’ve thought about that before you ate my cookies! And what even happened to Karl’s treats? Did you eat those too?”
“I didn’t! Buhuhut-”
“But what?”
“I ahahahate your cookies! I’m sohohohorry!”
Edgar gasped in mock disbelief, continuing to prod at Ranpo’s tummy as the detective squealed and kicked his legs, squirming.
“I can’t believe you ate them,” Edgar said, sounding betrayed as he pulled his hands away from Ranpo, instead folding them across his chest as his partner caught his breath, a few stray giggles still escaping his lips.
“I’m sohorry, they looked so tasty… I got more though!” Ranpo said, and Edgar perked up.
“You… did?”
“Yeah! That’s why I was at the store earlier, I also got more treats for Karl!”
Edgar smiled and Ranpo sat up, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek, making the novelist blush.
“You thought I’d just eat your special cookies and not get you more?”
Edgar stammered and Ranpo laughed. “I also didn’t eat the cat treats, that’s gross. I was trying to teach Karl how to sit!” 
Edgar hummed, watching as Ranpo walked into the hallway, picking up the grocery bag from earlier. He tossed a package of cookies to Edgar and pulled the cat treats out of the bag, sitting next to Edgar as Karl trotted over to them.
“Sit!”
Karl sat, plopping down and reaching a small paw up as Ranpo tossed him a treat, chuckling. Edgar watched, astonished. He never knew that people could train raccoons to sit, but this was also Ranpo, who could do almost anything.
“Now that you have your cookies,” Ranpo started, setting the treats down and leaning over to Edgar, a small smirk on his face. “I should show you what happens when you try to best the Ultimate Detective!”
Edgar squawked and tried to crawl away, but Ranpo was already on him, scribbling his fingers up his sides as Edgar laughed. They would indulge themselves in the cookies later, but right now, they would just laugh.
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writing-in-april · 4 years ago
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My Date with the President’s Daughter
Spencer Reid x Female Reader (Spencer POV)
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Summary: Spencer has a date with the President’s daughter, who he’s been dating for a while in partial secret. He hasn’t seen her in person for a while so he’s had to settle for another form of communication.
A/N: Ok just to get this out of the way— this is not a politically charged fic, I don’t express my own political beliefs in this fic nor do I express my opinion on the beliefs of others. The president in this fic is entirely made up and I just thought it would be cool to release it on Inauguration Day like the nerd I am. I do not want a political debate in the comments, this blog is not meant for that. This fic is for fun and to make people a little happier in these trying times. Please respect my wishes. This was a really fun way to write a twist on Spencer dating someone famous and- I wonder if anyone can spot the West Wing reference I used 🤔Thanks to @spencers-dria again for always helping me out with my fics 🥰This is also apart of my unlinked fic series called Spencer Reid & Letters! Requests are open and thank you for reading!
Warning: Vague political talk, References to keeping their relationship secret earlier, Avoiding the paparazzi- that should be it.
Main Masterlist Spencer Reid & Letters Word count: 1.6k
She didn’t have to put her short little letter to me on the back of a postcard, but she always did it this way. I remember when she first told me why she did it. We were sitting cuddled up on my couch at the early start of our relationship. I had asked her why she always insisted she send her letters on the back of a tiny card, she would’ve had so much more room if she got out a piece of paper.
She said she got into the habit of sending them to her father whenever he was away on business. Her handwriting had been horrible as a child according to her and her father had suggested she try to fit all of her thoughts onto a postcard. So, now she sent all of her letters neatly handwritten with the smallest of letters, so small you could almost barely read them, on the back of a postcard.
The postcard I had gotten late today, delivered by one of the last people on duty this late at night, was a picturesque view of the White House. The grass bright green and the outside covered in pure crisp white, a statuesque image of American democracy. Now, she didn’t send this to me because she wanted to express her political views and patriotism in a postcard, it just so happened to be where her father lived.
The fact that she was the President’s daughter used to intimidate me a lot when I first met her. I hadn’t immediately connected the dots in my head that she was the first daughter when we first met, though I could tell I had seen her somewhere before. Though, my first assumption was that maybe she had been a regular at my favorite coffee shop, not the daughter to the President of the United States. Literally my biggest boss.
First time I met him was also my first time in the east wing; she had some help from her secret service detail to sneak me in through the back. I only ever nervously stutter when I’m in intimidating or stressful situations and I’m pretty sure I barely got a sentence out the first ten minutes after I had met him. Luckily, he did seem to like me, though I’m not really sure why. Y/N told me once it was because he found my intelligence extraordinary and my constant willingness to share facts endearing. I always blush when I remember that, she was always so sweet to me and the fact that her family loved me as well caused my heart to swell exponentially. I stared at the captured view for a few seconds longer before the dots had fully connected in my head, I may have an eidetic memory, but sometimes it took me a minute to get her subtle hints. She didn’t actually live at the White House, she had her own house in D.C. But, this postcard meant one thing. She’s home.
Each postcard she sent me had a picture of wherever she was while she was traveling the world, it was a small gesture that made me feel closer to her, I always tried to imagine I was there with her at every location she sent. She had been out of the country for at least a month on business and even before that we hadn’t seen each other for a while, I had been stuck on a long case that kept me away from her for half a month.
A month and a half, that’s how long it's been since I’ve had her in my arms. I turned over the card expecting to see it filled with more words than most people would think could fit on the back of a postcard to let me know when I could see her, but this was not the case. Instead, the back of the card contained less words than normal. Only the words- meet me at 10pm at our usual spot.
My body moved faster than my brain, getting up to pack up all my things to rush to our usual spot. My watch sat over my cardigan sleeve on my wrist and it blinked up at me letting me know I only had 30 minutes till I had to get to the other side of town.I still had some paperwork left, but enough that I could push it off till the next day. Once I had gotten all my stuff together I scurried over to leave through the glass doors.
“Are you heading home, Spence?” A voice from inside the bullpen called out startling me out of my thoughts, I had thought everyone had left for the night. I turned around to look at the owner of the voice, JJ, who had come back from the break room to finish her large stack of paperwork that still remained.
“Actually no- I have a date.” A small shy smile made its way onto my face, I still felt very shy when I talked about my relationship with the team. When I had first told them after around 8 months into our relationship, they had thought I was pulling their legs. Once they did realize that I was in fact, not bullshitting them as Morgan had suspected, the questions had immediately come down on me. The ogling at my relationship never really ceased in the months after it had come out to the team, and the rest of the world. We mostly still tried to keep it under wraps, but the fact that the press now knew about me after some photos got leaked from a date only made the team ogle even more.
“I don’t think I’ll ever get used to who you go on dates with, it’s like something out of a movie.” JJ joked, then yawning again and leaning her face into her palms. “Well- I still have a lot of paperwork to do, you go enjoy your night, Spencer. I know you haven’t seen her in a while.”
My mind had already begun to shift away from JJ as soon as she brought her up, I was practically vibrating in anticipation, I couldn’t wait to see her.
—-
The rare book store on the east side of Quantico had been my favorite for years, ever since I had moved out here from Vegas actually. So much so that the owners, an older couple named Margaret and Dan, both knew me by name and knew almost exactly what books I wanted every time. The both of them had immediately jumped at the chance when I had hesitantly asked them to let the both of us meet up here, I had been desperately trying to find a place outside of my apartment where we could meet up.
When I entered the shop through the back it was already deserted just for us, she must have contacted Maggie and Dan to ask them if we could have the store for the night. The store was packed full of the rare books the owners had both acquired over the years, ranging from old tales and poems written by Edgar Allan Poe, the dark brother’s Grimm tales, to almost any old book that you could think of. It was almost to the point where I thought maybe Maggie and Dan should upgrade to a bigger shop.
“Long time no see.” A voice piped up from the mostly dark corner where she sat in a dark green armchair only partially illuminated by a standing lamp. Broad grins broke out on both of our faces before we both ran to each other, engulfing ourselves into an overwhelming bear hug.
“I missed you so much you don't even know.” Tears prickled at the edge of my eyes, though I wasn’t afraid to admit that us being apart for so long made me tear up.
“I've got a pretty good idea, I missed you so much as well.” She sniffed and then sighed into the crook of my neck. I moved my hand up to cradle her head to try and bring her as close as possible to me, even though there was already not even an inch of space between the two of us.
A nagging thought was dancing around in my brain, the card was so short and abrupt. It wasn’t like her to not be long winded whenever she wrote to me, she even had a tendency to be worse than I was sometimes.
“Why was the card so short? You feeling ok?”
“I just couldn’t wait to see you… It’s been so long since I’ve seen you...” Her tone of voice made me sad, it had been so lonely for me as well when we were apart.  “I never want to be away from you for that long ever again.”
“Move in with me.” The words blurted out of my mouth before I could really think about my words. I didn’t care whether it would be feasible or not, I just knew I never wanted us to be apart for so long ever again.
“Well-“ I cringed a little at her words sensing a rejection, I worried that I had just screwed it all up by asking. However, again she surprised me, “We might need to get a new place to settle my father’s worries about security.”
I breathed out a breathy laugh of relief at her words, enveloping her into a bruising kiss, my worry and anxiety immediately melting away. I couldn’t wait for the next chapter of my life with the President’s daughter.
—-
Tag list (Message me if you want to be added):
All works: @shotarosleftpinky
Spencer Reid/CM:
@calm-and-doctor @destiny-tsukino @safertokiss
Spencer Reid & Letters Series:
@sierraraeck @90spumkin @whoreforthebau
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writefightandflightclub · 5 years ago
Text
Pillow Talk (Poe x reader)
What is this? This is 4 of 14 short prompt requests I’ll be writing as part of my 500 follower celebration! See my call-out for requests (now closed… unless you’re desperate!) and credit for prompt list creators here.
What is the prompt? “Ow, oka- OW, CAN YOU STOP HITTING ME WITH YOUR PILLOW?!” I wasn’t sure where to take this at first and then it just came to me. So much fun to write- thanks so much for the request @asianravenpuff​ <3
Author’s note: AND THERE IS ONLY ONE BED. Everyone’s favourite trope, yah? Another bed-centric bit of fluff but pretty different to the last.
Word count: I’m just gonna pretend I never set any word limit for this challenge. This is 1767 words. OOPS.
Warnings: Fluff + bickering + mild sexual references. No Poes were harmed in the writing of this fic. It’s a very soft pillow, ok?
GIF: By @psychotic-psychadelic​ (I couldn’t find any appropriate Poe / Ocasr GIFs and I think this GIF is adorable, though sorry it won’t represent all readers. Please imagine the fic however you like! <3)
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“Ow, oka- OW, CAN YOU STOP HITTING ME WITH YOUR PILLOW?!” Poe bites off, the narked, affronted edge in his tone fairly transparent.
“No! No, I won’t stop!” you exclaim, having leapt from your shared bed for the night to pummel him, still brandishing the pillow and looking ready to strike the Commander again. He raises his arms defensively as he continues to lay down. “What in the hell do you think you were doing, Poe?!” Your voice is stretched thin and high-pitched, your words flowing a little too fast. You’re seemingly in mild freak-out mode.
You lower your marshmallow-y weapon, eyebrows shooting up, expression pointed and inviting an explanation, foot tapping impatiently on the floor. 
Poe drop his arms and recites your question under his breath, disbelieving. “What do I think I was doing?” And then loudly, propping himself up on his elbows. “Honey, you kissed me!”
You clutch your pillow more tightly, one hand on your hip as you wind up your rebuke “I certainly don’t think...” But your voice falters. A heat rises in your cheeks as you suddenly doubt your own version of events. Especially as the blanket slips down over his bare chest and it occurs to you that your ability to resist him might be somewhat... compromised, after all. “I’m... not sure that’s true!” Suddenly you are clutching the pillow to your chest for comfort rather than as ammunition.
This should never have happened. You are Poe were simply retiring after the day’s mission, getting some rest. Two colleagues, essentially. No matter that the one kriffing guest house had one kriffing room left. With only one kriffing bed. Surely, you could both control yourself for one night, couldn’t you? Well, turns out that perhaps you had overestimated yourself. There is distinct evidence of your failure in the way your lips continue to tingle from the feeling of his hot kiss.
Poe sits all the way up now, the sheet slipping down so far that you can see the elasticated hem of his boxers. Sleeping semi-nude hadn’t seemed such a terrible idea when you had both undressed in the dark, but now that there was plenty of moonlight flitering in... now that your eyes had adjusted.... Yikes, his underwear was certainly drawing your attention.
“Well, I’m definitely sure. Trust me, I didn’t kiss you. I would have asked for permission.”  Poe states with conviction.
You think you might just be freaking-out a little more now. There’s that nervous, unnatural timbre to your voice coming out of you again. “I just kissed you?! Oh Maker, no. This is all your fault, Poe!”
You hit him again with the pillow. He throws his hands and his eyebrows up in utter disbelief, not understanding exactly how he’s still considered culpable. And, ok, this is pissing him off now. He swings his legs from the bed, his feet planting on the floor. “Would you please stop hitting me with that?”
Your thoughts swirl in panic as you try to concoct a way to remove yourself from the situation. Then it occurs to you. “I have to go.” you insist, as if with sudden clarity.
Poe looks around the compact room, face scrunching in confusion. There’s nowhere to go. “Where are you... ? Come on, don’t be silly.”
He takes a step towards you and, well, that’s just too much. You don’t think closing the distance is a good idea at all, in your current state. Or in his state of undress. So you opt to put a solid five paces between you and you lock yourself away in the adjoining refresher. The door in this crappy room is so thin that you hear Poe’s heavy sigh through it. Hating the feeling that you’ve exasperated him, you slide down the wall into a heap and bury your head in the pillow, wishing the floor might swallow you up.
Momentarily, you think you hear the mattress springs creak, and you guess that Poe has taken a seat on the bed. Or maybe he’ll just go to sleep and you can stay in here until morning and hope he magically forgets about this, somehow?
“Are you embarrassed?” he probes, his voice kind, but you give him no answer. Are you? You’ll say. How would anyone in the Resistance, how would he ever respect you again? You were here on a mission and you lost control of yourself after all of two minutes in a bed with him. Who does that?
“It was a good kiss.” he concedes -to the closed door- and your heart hammers in your chest. Did he mean that? There’s something about his tone though which sounds strained, and you hear another heavy sigh.
He comes at you with another tack. “Look, don’t you think you’re over-reacting? I don’t think anyone could blame you for kissing me, I’m pretty hard to resist. In fact, I’m not even shocked that you just couldn’t help yourself.”
You finally push the refresher door open, from your seated position. You lean forward until you have a clear view of him sat on the bed, just enough of a view to fling the pillow out and get a clear shot at his head. Oh, you could do it.
He nods, his mouth a thin line. “That’s about right. I thought that might be the one to get a reaction out of you.” His elbows are propped on his knees, his fingers tented together under his chin. “Can we just... talk about this?”
Poe Dameron. Apparently, quite a sensible guy, against all odds. You concede that he’s right. And it’s not as if you have anywhere to go, in reality. So, reluctantly, you stand and shuffle yourself back into the main room.
Boy, do you feel like an idiot. “I’m sorry, Commander. For freaking out. I’m sorry for hitting you with the pillow. And I’m sorry if I...” you look down at your feet. “...I’m really sorry that I kissed you. I’m such an ass.”
He stands again, the grumpy, sourpuss expression evaporating from his face as he senses your vulnerability. And it helps that you seem to have stopped attacking him. He shrugs, casually, his voice soft. “If it makes you feel better, I was a second away from asking you.”
“Asking me what?” you practically whisper.
He raises a suggestive eyebrow at you. “If I could kiss you.”
“Y- oh, y-.You?” you’re not forming words now, but you guess the string of sounds you’re making adequately displays your shock anyway. Your mouth forms an ‘o’, in lieu of any actual vowels. Or consonants. Or anything.
“Yeah. Something like that.” his mouth tugs up into a smile, his voice drops low into his throat. “You know, whenever I’ve imagined kissing you, there is usually a lot more actual kissing.”
Is the room suddenly really hot? Did it just get smaller in here?
“So,” Poe continues, stepping closer to you and entwining his fingers in yours  (is this still real-life?). “Can you stop throwing pillows at me, and maybe we’ll just lie back down and try that again?”
Ohhh boyyyy, all the times you’ve imagined him propositioning you, not once have you turned him down. It takes every ounce of self-control you can muster. “I... I can’t. We shouldn’t. You shouldn’t. You’re my Commander.”
He drops his hands from yours. “Right. No. You’re right. We... shouldn’t.”
“In fact, Commander, I can’t believe you would just go around kissing your subordinates like that. It’s so improper.” 
He’s about to rebuke you until he recognises the playful glint in your eyes.You’re pleased to have him smiling again, at least.
“Ok. Fine.” He raises his hands defensively. “We’ll just sleep then. Sound good?”
“Ok.” you agree, and you clamber into the far side of the bed, holiding the covers open for him. “Sounds good. It was just a little kiss. We can just forget it.”
He hesitates, but then he tugs in a deep breath and climbs in next to you, shimmying down beneath the blankets. Immediately, you both close your eyes tightly and turn your backs on one another.
Except, you can’t forget it, of course. It’s all you can kriffing think about. There’s no way you can sleep now! After that kiss?! The kiss of your life. Just imagine how good it would feel if you had given him a chance to properly kiss you back. The crush of his lips up against yours, his supple tongue slipping in and...And maybe you need to get out of bed and take a cold shower.
“Goodnight then, Commander.” you say in a small, unconvincing voice.
You feel him spin around in the bed, evidently now facing you, his breath billowing over the nape of your neck as he plonks his head back down on the pillow.
“G’night, sweet cheeks.” he purrs, ever so deliberately.
Oh, that smug flyboy. He knows. He knows you’re going to cave. And, you do as well. You turn, kiss him again, and this time his lips respond, his tongue leading; insistent and sinful and everything you could have hoped for.
When you’re both breathless he pulls away, leaning his forehead against yours. “Ok, just to clarify. You definitely kissed me that time too. Can we agree on that?” Then, he quickly wraps his arms around his head in case you’re about to launch another pillow-centric affront on his face.
“I know, Poe.” you admit, not caring in the slightest anymore. “Just shut up and kiss me some more.”
He smiles, dipping his lips towards yours again. “Now that’s the kind of pillow talk I like to hear.”
His kisses spread a heat through you. Make you feel so good. You realise that if you keep this up any longer you just won’t be able to stop. So, with a concerted effort you manage to break apart from him and catch your breath.
“Poe. We can’t. Shouldn’t. We should stop. I’m gonna sleep on the floor. Before I get ideas about banging you.”
“Ok.” he says causally, as if unbothered, unaffected. He simply folds his arms behind his head and waits quietly for you to gather up your pillow and spare blankets and retreat to the floor.
And then, just as you settle, he launches his pillow at your head with perfect aim. You complain loudly.
“I hear you, honey, but counter-suggestion. How about you just sleep in the bed, after you bang me?”
“Yeah, ok.” you respond instantly, reaching and pulling him down on to the floor with you.
There is only one bed, and you don’t get much use out of it that night.
Nor do you do a whole lot of sleeping.
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anna-pixie · 5 years ago
Note
hi love! if you’re up for another request, what about Poe where he and the reader are always at each other’s throats and Rey and Finn set them up on a blind date with each other to make them recognize the tension between them??
SORRY FOR TAKING SO LONG TO WRITE THIS
i haven’t proofread so i’m sorry if there are any mistakes
- i’d love to do a second part to this exploring the relationship more so let me know if that’s something you’d want!
request: poe and reader being set up on a blind date by finn and rey to recognise the tension between them
pairings: poe dameron x reader
warnings: swearing, very slight nsfw
***
You don’t hate Poe Dameron. No, no. You just despise his existence. Yep, that’s about right. From the moment you laid eyes on him, you knew that the two of you would not get along. Your first day on the resistance base, almost a year ago now, was hectic. Your planet had been infiltrated by the First Order and you and only a few others had the opportunity to escape.
The first person you met was General Organa, and she took you under her wing quickly. She introduced you to Rey and you soon realised that she saw the two of you as family. You had never had a best friend before you met Rey, and eventually Finn too. They just understood you like no one had before. Being their friend had its perks, you got to help Rey with her Jedi training, you had sleepovers, you had people to confide in. But it also has its disadvantages, most notably Finn’s best friend who always has to tag along.
Poe freaking Dameron.
He was the cockiest, most overconfident and annoying person you had ever met. It seemed as though he went out of his way to actively poke fun of you every chance he could get. He would constantly undermine you to General Organa. You were a very competent pilot, you had grown up flying with your father. Yet every time you were supposed to go on a mission, he would come up with a reason as to why you should stay behind and work in the comms room instead. Maker, he is the worst.
On this particular night, you find yourself cuddled between Rey and Finn under a mass of fluffy blankets, glaring intensely across the room as Poe sets up the movie projector. He trips slightly, accidentally unplugging the system and you snort, whispering ‘idiot’ under your breath. However, from the way he turns around to glare at you, you assume he heard you.
Rey elbows you, telling you to be nice so she can enjoy the movie. You sigh, rolling your eyes as you listen to her. You know how excited she has been to watch this film, so you don’t want to ruin this night for her. You cuddle further into her side and she smiles, clasping your hands together under the blanket.
“Awww, is Y/N finally coming out of the closet?” Poe comments when he spies your conjoined hands, taking a seat next to Finn as he plugs BB8 into the wall next to him.
“Jealousy isn’t a good colour on you, Dameron.” You tease, your voice monotonous as if you can barely be bothered responding to him.
“Oh, puh-lease. I wouldn’t touch you with a barge pole.”
Rolling your eyes, you bat back, “You would fuck anything that breathes.”
“Says a lot that I wouldn’t fuck you, then, doesn’t it?” He chuckles lightly, wincing when Finn elbows him the same way Rey elbowed you. You grit your teeth, frowning as you realise he has won this argument. You try to ignore the pang of hurt you feel at Poe’s admission of not being attracted to you. You don’t care about that, why would you?
“What is this movie even about, Rey?”
“I’m glad you asked. It is set before the the Empire took charge way back when, and it kind of looks at wh-”
“How about we just watch it, hm? Don’t wanna ruin everything.” Finn comments, causing Rey to smile sheepishly and look down, stuffing her mouth full of popcorn.
****
You let out a deep breath, your nerves getting the better of you as you sit in the darkness in the small room.
Rey and Finn have decided to set you up with someone, giving you the chance to dress up and get out there on a blind date. It was unconventional, to say the least. You were in a small private room attached to the base bar, and you were literally wearing a blindfold. Rey instructed you only to take it off when you hear two claps.
You perk up as you hear shuffling, hushed voices and maybe a giggle. You hear the chair accross from you scratch against the floor twice, realising that your date must be sat across from you. About a minute passes before you hear the claps, and you slowly remove your blindfold, groaning as you see who is sitting across from you, removing his own blindfold.
Poe.
“If you don’t mind, I’m expecting company.” You snap, not wanting Poe to ruin your date. You’re finally putting yourself out there and you don’t want anything to go wrong. You ruffle your hair slightly before groaning. Why is Poe still sitting there?
“Um.” He starts, his eyes darting around the room before he looks back at you, an unfamiliar sheepish look in his eyes, “I think we might’ve been set up.”
Your eyes widen as you try to take in what he said, looking to the window only to be met with a giggling Finn and Rey. You groan, placing your head into your hands as sheer embarrassment takes over your body.
Poe chuckles, trying to ease the awkward tension before his laughs trail off when he realises you’re not snapping at him like you usually would. It takes a few seconds of observation before he realises you’re crying, his face falling as he gazes at you helplessly.
You sniffle lightly, cursing yourself for crying in front of Poe of all people. You had been so looking forward to tonight, your self esteem had taken a hit lately and this was your night to doll yourself up and put yourself out there and it turns out to be a giant prank.
You finally look up, praying that your eye makeup hasn’t smudged as you glare at Poe, “Were you in on this?”
“W-what?” You’ve never seen Poe look so shocked, his eyebrows practically shooting off his forehead with how high he raises them.
“C’mon. You wouldn’t pass up a chance to humiliate me, right? I bet Rey told you how crappy I’ve been feeling lately and you couldn’t pass up the chance to mess with me…. R… right.” You can barely get your words out, your tears building up to the breaking point. You grab your small bag and attempt to walk away quickly, but Poe grabs your arm.
“Y/N. Sit down.” Usually you wouldn’t listen to him, but his stern tone doubled with the fact that the room is literally locked makes you change your mind. You huff, throwing your bag onto the floor as you return to your previous seat.
“This is fucking stupid.” You mutter darkly, glancing to the side as you try to prevent your eyes from watering once more, “I get that it was a joke but fuck, it’s not funny.”
“I… I don’t think it’s a joke.”
“I’m confused..”
“Fuck.” Poe curses, smiling sardonically as he leans back in his chair, “Listen, Y/N, this isn’t how I wanted you to find out.”
“Find out about what? Poe, what is going on?”
Poe gazes at you with a look you’ve never seen, that you can’t quite decipher. His eyes are dark and he seems hesitant to speak, his lips moving like he is about to say something before his brain stops him. He places a large hand over his mouth and mumbles something quietly, his eyes darting down the room as if he is ignoring your gaze.
Is… is Poe embarrassed? Your eyes widen, you’ve never seen him like this before.
“I can’t hear you.” You furrow your brows as he repeats the same mumble from behind his hand, “Listen, are you going to tell me or not? If not I’m finding a way out of he-”
“I had a sex dream about you.” You stop mid sentence, Poe’s statement cutting through the air similar to the way his X-wing cuts through the galaxy. You can’t tear your eyes away from his face and you just stare, mouth slightly ajar as you watch his face slowly turn red.
“You… had a sex dream… about me?” You heard him loud and clear but you needed to confirm that your mind wasn’t playing tricks on you.
“Yes, and, fuck.” He can’t get out a sentence and even though you usually take any chance to make fun of him, you give him the benefit of the doubt.
“Poe, I’ve just cried in front of you so nothing is embarrassing now. Just tell me, please?”
He takes a deep breath, finally meeting my eyes properly, “I stayed in Finn’s room the other night, I lost the pass to mine. Um, long story short, I had a sex dream and shouted your name. Finn heard it all and now he’s convinced that I have a thing for you…”
You can’t help the snort that leaves your mouth as Poe finishes explaining his story, giggling quietly to yourself as Poe watches bashfully. You’ve never seen him look at you in any other way than in anger, it’s quite refreshing. Albeit weird, considering the subject matter.
“I thought Finn was smarter than that? You freaking hate me, there’s no way you have a thing for me.” You continue giggling, trying to mask the slight pang of hurt you feel. Look, you still hate Poe. But, you always thought maybe… just maybe… there could be something there. Oh well.
“Yeah. We hate each other.” Poe states, the atmosphere taking a sudden nosedive into very awkward territory.
“I can’t believe they tried to set us up.” You want him to say something, anything to keep the date going. Just to see how it goes. But he doesn’t, of course he doesn’t. He hates you, after all.
“Well, let’s break outta this joint.” Poe leaps up with newfound determination, and you squeal in shock as he makes a beeline straight for the door, not even thinking twice before he shoulder barges it at full force, thankfully allowing it to slide open. He leans against the slightly open door and you realise he’s allowing you to leave first, since when he moves the door will slide shut again. You grab your bag and quickly walk towards him, blushing as your back brushes against his front while you slide past him.
You hurry down the white hall, cringing at the artificial light, stopping only when Poe calls after you, “I’m sorry that your date got ruined.”
You turn ever so slightly, meeting his eyes over your shoulder and sigh when you realise he looks serious, “It’s okay. You can’t control your dreams, I know I’m irresistible.” You tease, trying to lighten the mood. Poe chuckles, muttering something under his breath. He turns in the opposite direction to you, walking away slowly as the door closes behind him.
You’re going to fucking kill Rey.
****
“How many drinks do I have to buy you for you to accept my apology?” Rey groans, rolling her eyes at Finn as you giggle drunkenly to yourself.
“One more.” You give her a smile and your cutest eyes, knowing she can’t resist. She shakes her head at your obvious manipulation.
“You said that three drinks ago, Y/N. This is the last one, I swear.” She says, as she shouts an order to the poor sod working behind the busy bar. You don’t have a lot of breaks, so when you do, you go hard.
“And you said that three drinks ago.” You cackle, gulping your new drinking down like it’s water and you’ve just finished a marathon. Rey shakes her head with a smile as Finn laughs along with you.
“Have you guys seen Poe tonight? I can’t find him anywhere.” Finn ponders, your eyes rolling automatically at the mention of your least favourite person. Yep. He is still definitely your least favourite person. Though, with the alcohol running through your veins, you can’t ignore the way your heart swells as you think of the arrogant pilot. Fuck.
“I’m pretty sure he went to… you know what… with that new pilot. What was her name? The blonde?” Rey questions, your heart dropping as you think of Poe hooking up with another woman as you speak. Of course he’s hooking up with someone else, why would he ever think of hooking up with you? He hates you.
You hadn’t spoken to each other a lot since the failed blind date last week, save for the several insults shouted at each other when you disagreed on something in the comms room, and the awkward glances when you passed each other around base.
No! You don’t want to spend your fun night thinking about Poe.
Oh, speak of the devil and he shall appear. Poe comes stumbling out of the dark forest, his hair messy and his face pulled into a stupid smirk. The blonde pilot Rey mentioned follows close behind, buttoning up her shirt and swiping her thumb over the edge of her mouth. Wow.
Before your brain has a chance to catch up with your body, you’re walking (more like stumbling) over to Poe, who is now stood talking to Snap, a shit eating grin plastered over his smug little face. All your drunk brain can focus on is the horrible feeling of jealousy flowing through your veins. Rey and Finn watch with wide eyes as you stop in front of Poe, looking up at him with a pout as he wonders what the hell you want.
“Can I help you, short stuff?”
“Don’t call me that, asshole. And yes, I need to talk to you.” You cross your arms and tap your foot lightly, trying to present a facade of casualness, “Now?” You press when he doesn’t say anything, just stares at you with a shocked expression.
He coughs slightly and excuses himself to Snap, who raises his eyebrow with a wry smile. He places a large hand on your back, you can feel the warmth of his skin deliciously through your thin dress. He leads you to a quiet area where there aren’t many people but you shake your head, silently taking his hand and leading him further into the forest.
You stop when you reach a large tree stump, sitting atop it as you try to regain your confidence to talk to him. He stands in front of you, his arms behind his back as he waits for you to speak.
“Um, so. I need to tell you something.” You let out a nervous giggle, swinging your legs back and forth.
“Wh-” Poe starts, but you cut him off quickly.
“No. If you talk I’m not gonna say it and I really need to say it.”
“Sorry, okay, go on.” He isn’t used to you acting like this, and he wonders for a second if you may be pranking him. Those thoughts leave his mind when he sees the tear travelling down your cheek.
“I don’t hate you, Poe.” You finally admit, a weight lifting off your shoulders as another tear falls. Your voice is thick, heavy with emotion as you continue to ramble, “I don’t think I ever hated you. I think I was intimidated by how much I liked you, and then it turned out you really did hate me. So I just told myself that I hated you. I thought it wouldn’t hurt then, when I saw you with other girls, but it does. I was excited the other day, you know. I thought maybe that stupid date could be our chance but… then I remembered that you hate me. I mean, you should, I’m a comple-”
You let out a slight whimper as Poe slams his lips onto yours, stepping forward quickly and slotting himself between your legs. He doesn’t give you any time to breathe as he pushes his tongue into your mouth, meeting your own and giving you the most intense kiss you’ve ever had.
He pulls back briefly, shutting his eyes as he rests his forehead against your own, “I’ve wanted to do that since the first fucking time I saw you, Y/N.” He kisses you again, long and hard as you crumble beneath his strong arms.
“Then why didn’t you?” You’re out of breath as you try to respond, wrapping your arms around Poe’s neck and threading your fingers into his dark hair. He attacks your mouth once more, speaking a broken sentence in between kisses.
“I,” Kiss, “thought,” Kiss, “you,” kiss, “hated,” kiss, “me.” He pulls back then, a goofy grin on his face as he gazes down at you. You bite your lip slightly, trying to hide your smile as you meet his eyes.
“So Finn was right after all?”
“I guess so.” He doesn’t let the conversation carry on, kissing you once more before he grips your thighs, pulling you flush against him so you can feel his hardness against you. You gasp and he pulls you closer, putting even more pressure on your most sensitive area. His large hand caresses your inner thigh as his lips begin to mark your neck, and you shiver in anticipation as he gets closer to the place you need him the most.
“You know what would be really sad?”
“Hmm?”
“If this was just another dream.”
“Well, if it is, you’d better make it a good one.” You smile innocently at him as he grumbles, his eyes dark as he finally reaches your sweet spot, gaging your reaction as he goes.
“Oh, I will baby.”
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be-the-spark-flyboy · 5 years ago
Text
Crush
A/N: I had way too much fun writing this. Thx @writefightandflightclub​ for making me a Poe hoe ;)
Pairing: Poe x reader (fem!)
Warning: Swearing, suggestive themes, fluff, Poe Dameron
Word count: 2.1k
Summary: The crush you have on Poe is common knowledge, but what is he going to do with that information?
PART 2 - Tension 
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You and Poe were smashed up together in a broom closet. Not in the sexy, “their chest pressed against each other, his breath fanning their face” way. More like sweaty, gross and stuck in an awkward position, manner. His shoulder was digging into your hips. Poe had knelt down in that tiny space to retrieve the data chip you had dropped in your haste to shove yourself in the hiding spot and lo and behold, he got stuck. You tried not to pass out from the excessive heat and the leather jacket you wore wasn't helping in the least.
“….I don’t think we thought this through very well,” you mumbled from above him.
“I could have told you that about ten fuck ups ago.” Poe shot back, leaning his head against the door with a thump. You winced at the sound though no one could have heard it from the outside. Music blared in every corner of the club. You moved to peel the layer of leather off yourself.
“What are you doing?“ Poe hissed at you. You were sure you could've spotted an irritated scowl on his face if there was any amount of lighting in the broom closet. But you couldn't bring yourself to care at the moment.
“I’d do you more harm than good if I passed out,“ you huffed. Poe shifted to make more room for you but it was inevitable that your chest was going to brush up against his head at one point. It was not at all awkward when the heavy leather smacked against the back of his head when you finally managed to shrug it off. You whispered an apology.
Your face burned and you still felt warm despite having removed the leather jacket. Maybe things wouldn't have been so awkward if the entire base hadn't known about the colossal crush you had on the man on his knees before you. You were more than sure Poe knew too. Word traveled like wildfire in the resistance. You really would’ve thought twice before joining the game of truth or dare if you just weren't so shit faced that day. Or if you knew you were to join him on a mission less than two months after the unfortunate incident. 
After what felt like an eternity, the music finally stopped and the doors slammed shut after the last pair of foot shuffled out, leaving the whole place in eerie silence. Poe passed you his blaster.
“Alright, I think we’re clear,” he signaled and you blasted the lock, the door swinging open with the force. You practically moaned when the cool air hit your face as you stumbled out. Poe tumbled out in a graceless heap behind you, swearing when he could finally stretch his legs out.  
“At least we got the chip,“ you tried not to sound so exhausted. “Now we can head back.” Poe nodded. You collected the discarded jacket from the floor and the two of you left.
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Poe hung his head in defeat and sighed heavily. He had been looking out the window at the heavy storm whipping around since you both had decided it would be unwise to try and fly in this weather. You’d taken a nice warm shower and now laid on the motel bed, datapad in hand trying to decode the chip. 
The entire mission had been unbelievably draining as you and Poe spent the past 6 days trailing the target halfway across the galaxy to every kind of sketchy settlement you could think of. You’d barely slept, tracking his ship for days. The past two days were worse. Everything that could go wrong went wrong. From the both of you almost getting caught trying to sneak into the target’s room, to you getting locked in a walk-in freezer and the both of you being trapped in that broom closet for at least 2 whole hours. And for the cherry on top, your feelings towards Poe only seemed to get stronger, while the man showed no signs of reciprocating any of it. That hurt a little. 
You absent-mindedly curled your damp hair around your fingers, trying to focus your blurry eyes on the datapad as Poe finally moved away from the window. He laid on the bed facing you, with his head propped up against his knuckles. 
“You know you don’t have to finish this right away right? Go get some rest, you can finish up at the base tomorrow.“ He said. You just stared at him. You couldn't help yourself. Maker, he was gorgeous. A crown of curly dark hair sitting so perfectly on his head. His shirt unbuttoned at the top giving you the barest hint of his chest. His lips parted slightly as he gave you an inquisitive look. Only then did you register his words. You cleared your throat, abruptly looking anywhere but at him, hoping you hadn't stared too long. Hoping he hadn't noticed.
“Um, you should get some rest too,” you choked out, mildly surprised you could even find your voice. Poe’s lips curled up into a teasing smirk at how quickly colour had risen to your face. Of course he noticed, that damn bastard. 
“Then you wouldn't mind if I shared your bed, would you?“ Now you just stared at him in disbelief. What? Oh no. Oh no no no.
“What’s wrong with yours?“ you asked. You didn’t mean to sound that rude but Poe didn’t seem to mind. Your brain promptly proceeded to short circuit as he pushed himself up on his elbows straight into your personal space.
“Nothing, it's just so cold sleeping alone,“ he answered. “I promise I’ll keep my hands to myself,” he said giving you a dopey smile. Then fell back into the pillow beside yours and made himself comfortable. 
No, you didn't want him to keep his hands to himself. Why did the universe hate you so much? You wanted nothing more than for Poe to kiss the living daylights out of you. And yet he was right there lying not a foot away from you, making no move, giving you no other hint that he might, somewhere deep in his heart, have some sort of feelings towards you too.
The storm continued howling outside the window, and you decided that you’d at least get some sleep before the sun came up. Switching the lights off, you slipped under the covers and faced the ceiling, willing sleep to claim you. 
It didn't. You tossed around a few times trying to get more comfortable but nothing did it. And it started getting colder as the storm only got stronger.
“You still awake?“ Poe asked. You turned around to face him, clutching your blankets closer to yourself. “Are you cold?”
You shook your head at that. Just then, a violent shudder went down your spine. “N-no I'm n-not,” you insisted, shivering. There was enough light streaming in from the streets outside for you to recognize the amused look on his face.
“Well, I'm cold. Can I come closer?“ Poe tried again.
You were sure if you tried to speak your teeth would just start chattering. So you opted to just nod your head. Poe shifted closer to you and wrapped an arm around you pulling you into him. You immediately melted into his warmth.
“Is this okay?” his voice dropped lower now and you nodded once again, already feeling yourself drifting off.
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The morning light  gently streamed in from the windows as Poe woke up feeling so warm and soft like he was going to sink right down to the bottom of the bed. His head was resting against your chest and your arms were wrapped around his neck. His arm was going numb under your waist but Poe didn't want to move. He just moved his arm from your waist and twisted around to check the time. It still wasn’t too late into the day so he decided he was going to bask in your warmth a little longer. Sure you wouldn’t mind.
A little more than a month ago, Poe had literally dragged Snap along with him to you when he heard about “the cute engineer girl with a crush on Poe”. He promptly lost all of his guts when Snap found you in the cantina with your nose buried in a book, chewing on a pen in your hand. You seemed so focused on your task at hand, the steaming cup of caf forgotten on the table beside you. A few strands of hair that escaped your messy bun, fell framing your face. You sat at one corner of the cantina in your own world, paying absolutely no mind to anything happening around you. He’ll never admit that he sat a few tables away and stared at you the whole time, watching you go about your day, like a total creep. He lost his favourite jacket to Snap that day to keep him silent about it. 
After that, he’d see you around the base quite often, but you always seemed busy with something or surrounded with people and he’d tell himself he’ll talk to you next time. Until that fateful day when Leia had summoned Poe to brief him on his next mission. “Retrieving” a set of blueprints from a first-order sympathizer, paired with the resistance's best electrical engineer. Who so happened to be you. You had shaken his hand with a professional smile. No hint of whatever crush he had heard of. 
He had gone back to Snap and grilled him about the details. How did he know about you? When did it happen? Was he sure it's true? Snap told him to not overthink and just go the fuck to sleep.
After the two of you had left base, you’d behaved professionally albeit a little nervous about your first field mission. Poe had tried to reassure you that you’d be fine and every time you’d smile at him and say “Thanks Poe,” in a soft voice. And every time Poe would nod and walk away before you could see the colour rapidly rise in his face.
Now here he was, wrapped up in your arms and your leg thrown over his, the sleep shorts you were wearing barely covering much of your thighs. He really didn’t mean to sound like a creepy stalker, but he just couldn’t pull those thoughts out of his head when it came to you. Maybe it was the fact that he knew that you were attracted to him too.
Poe was almost fully convinced that the rumour about your crush on him was fake, until you’d stared at him like that the night before. Like you where going to jump him right there. And he wanted you to. He would’ve toyed with you way sooner if he’d known this is how the two of you would end up. Tangled up in sheets in the bed together, though not in the way he wanted but this was quite enough for him.
You slowly started shifting. Poe thought you had finally awaken but you just sleepily tugged him closer to you and buried your face in his hair. Now Poe was sure his heart was beating out of his chest. You suddenly seem to realize your compromising positioning. You had absolutely no memory of how you ended up cuddling Poe, and your entire body felt suddenly felt hot from the embarrassment. Hoping he wasn’t awake yet, you jerked your face away from his hair and quickly went to untangle your limbs from his. But Poe held you in place.
“There’s still time, we don’t have to leave yet.“ Poe told you, his gravelly voice sending shivers down your spine. He shifted his head to look up at you. “I mean, if you’re okay with it?“ His big brown eyes hooded with sleep made you melt on the spot, and of course you agreed.
Satisfied with you answer, Poe went back to nuzzling your neck. You willed yourself to calm down before he heard your heart jack-hammering against your ribs. Poe slid his palm from your waist to your thigh, hoisting you leg higher up his hips and every thought flew right out of you head. 
Poe started grazing the tip of his nose against your neck and the only thing you could focus on was not trembling against him. Heat pooled between your legs as he continued his merry way up your neck and then back down again, this time brushing his lips against your skin. Your breath came in shallow pants as he dragged his teeth along your collarbone, soothing the sting with tiny kitten licks. You could’ve sworn you felt his lips part in a smile when you tangled your fingers in his thick curls. Your eyes fell shut on its own accord when he wrapped his lips around your skin and sucked. You couldn’t stop the broken whimper that slipped past your lips. 
Poe fucking Dameron, commander of the black squadron, resistance’s best pilot and grade A asshole, decided that he was going to pull away from you at that exact fucking moment. You sat up in confusion as he got up from the bed, looked at you with wide-eyed innocence and said, “We gotta leave soon if you wanna get back to base on time.” Then left you there with a look of disbelief etched all over your face.
He did NOT just-
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kkysolo · 5 years ago
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Stuck on You / Chapter One
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You curse him for it, sometimes. Loathe him for it - for how he’s made you, his parents, his friends feel. How he’s broken them. Reduced all of you to nothing but fickle fragments that pass through time and space with little awareness, with little recognition, of what’s happening to them. At least, that’s how you feel. But the bitterness, the fury - it doesn’t last long. It never does.
Prologue 
Pairing: Ben Solo|Kylo Ren/Reader Setting: Alternate Universe - Cyberpunk, dystopia, modern, gangs. Warnings: Graphic depictions of violence, war, gang violence, emotional hurt/angst, codependent relationships (eventual fluff, smut, romance).
A/N: Tense change from past to present because we’re shifting into the present timeline of the story. Also, if you’ve read any of my other work, you’ll know I tend to write in second person omniscient. I love a bit of head-hopping, keeps us on our toes, lol. It won’t appear in this chapter, but bear it in mind for the future. 
Chapter under the cut, and also here, on AO3. 
Summary: The year is 2084.
Despite its advances, society has collapsed on itself. The world is crooked, damaged, dying. Rezoned into new territories, separating the elite from the unworthy. Civilization is crumbling at your very feet, and in the midst of it all, your best friend, Ben Solo, has been missing for three years. You desperately cling to what’s left of him, hoping that he’ll come home, praying that things will fall back into place.
And then he does. And they don’t. Because life is different when you’re a scoundrel in the midst of a class war.
Now: 2084, Spring 
You’ve always hated spring. 
They used to call it the season of new beginnings, and new beginnings were good. But that was before. Now, starting over is nothing more than an expected, quotidian task each time the Empire rezones the land. Which is often. Too often to ever feel at home. Too often to ever really feel as though there’s a new beginning to be had. 
“It was the right thing to do, you know,” Rose smiles sympathetically in that way that she does, the kind of way that doesn’t make you feel pitied, but loved.  “Hm?” “Breaking up with Jon.”  “Oh,” you hadn’t actually given the situation much thought. He’d already retreated the back of your mind, an unimportant speck among an ocean of stress. “Yeah, I know.”  “Because you didn’t love him.” “I know.” “Because you love Ben.” “Rose,” you hiss, your head flying around the dimly lit room. Because that’s all it is, really - a room. They’d outlawed bars (at least, in the rezoned areas) six months ago. Your shabby little makeshift basement bar - ran by Ben’s mother, nonetheless - was an illegal, yet necessary sanctuary. “Would you stop? Someone will hear.” 
“Oh, stop,” she scoffs, taking a sip of highly illegal (and cherished) gin and lemonade. “As if everyone here doesn’t already know.”
“Well it doesn’t matter now, does it?” you mumble, twirling a bottle of beer between your hands. It’s a good one, not badly brewed and watered down. Leia, she gets the good stuff. How she gets it, you aren’t sure. “It’s not like he’s around.”  “He’s not dead,” Rose affirms. “He can’t be.” “What makes you say that?”
Because you believe it, too, you do. He can’t be dead - couldn’t possibly be gone. Because Ben, he’s strong. He’s good and he’s kind and he’s funny and brave and men like him don’t just die unknowingly. Men like him go down in glory - of that, you’re sure. 
“Because it’s Ben,” she shrugs. “He’s supposed to be running this place one day.” 
You nod, still dragging your bottle across the uneven wood of the table. 
“It’ll be awkward, though,” you sigh. “With Jon.” “You think so?” “I mean, yeah,” you lean back in your seat. “He’s still with the Resistance, I’m gonna have to see him all the time.” “Yeah, I mean, maybe missions will be awkward but,” she shrugs. “He’s not an idiot, surely he knows to, you know. Stay away.” 
You hum in agreement, taking a swig from your bottle. Ben would like this beer, you think. It’s bitter, like he likes. 
“Sweetheart,” Leia is behind you now, a gentle hand on your shoulder. “Could I ask a favour?” “Of course.” “Could you watch the place for me tonight?” She has that apologetic expression on her face she so often bears, and it pains you to think of her worrying to ask you something. “Han is home from his mission tonight, and I’d just love to see him, honey.”  “Leia, of course,” you place your hand atop hers. “You deserve all the time together you can get.”
And they do. They’d separated for several months after Ben’s disappearance, neither of them able to cope with the weight of it in a manner that allowed them any semblance of intimacy, any notion of peace. But they’d rekindled as much as they could of their relationship, and despite Han’s long missions, continued to work on it. 
“Thank you, honey,” she smiles softly, squeezing your hand before turning to a demanding patron. She gives so much of herself to so many people, you wonder how there’s any of her left. 
When Leia finally bids you farewell, you’re already shuffling around behind the badly crafted bar, held together precariously by planks and rusted nails. You’re not sure who built it - though you expect it may have been Poe - but you’re surprised it’s still standing after only one week of use. You pull another bottle of gin from a box on the concrete floor, and you scoff at the icy feel of it. The wicked cold from the exposed ground has kept it remarkably cool. You hope you’ll be able to shut the refrigerator off, in that case. It’s far too expensive to run. 
“Here,” you pour Rose another glass. She sits at the bar now, resting her chin in her palm. “Perk up a little, you’ve gotta keep me company.” 
Rose sticks her tongue out playfully. 
“Did you get settled in your new place?” She speaks into her glass and the sound of her voice vibrates through the liquid.
“Mhm,” You sigh, pouring a drink for yourself. It’s your second move of the year already - the Empire having pushed you out of every zone you’ve ever called home. When they come, ships and tie-fighters blackening the sky above you, you’re herded like goats to whatever new (and smaller) zone they deem suitable for nuisances such as you. For peasants such as you. “You?”
“Meh,” she shrugs. “I wish they kept me with you this time. I hate being by myself.” “Me too,” you murmur. And you do. You really do. “But it is what it is.” 
You glance to your left, eyeing the stacks upon stacks of boxes that pile up against the wall. All labelled ‘bottles’, ‘glasses’, ‘coasters’ in Finn’s terrible handwriting. There’s one that sits at the bottom, labelled only ‘our stuff’. Back in the old bar - the real bar - you’d had CD players (the old kind, from decades ago - you couldn’t afford anything else). You’d had string lights and flowers and Sabacc tables. You’d decorated the walls with photos - of you, of Ben, of the resistance. Of the people who owned and worked at the only establishment for fucking miles that conceived any happiness. And it was beautiful. It was perfect. 
“When’s Poe back?” Rose hums.  “I think he’s coming back with Han tonight,” She takes a sip of her drink. “Why?” “I really wish he’d move those fuckin’ boxes,” you grit. “Hide them in the back or something, but I can’t stand the sight of them.” 
Rose nods sympathetically. 
“He will,” She turns, then, as the sound of rain pummels against the ground outside. Though it’s a basement, there’s still windows, the kind that sit more toward the ceiling, the kind that are awfully awkward to open. She squints at them, and your eyes catch how she leans closer to get a better look. 
“You alright?” You lean toward her, resting your elbows against the bar. You can hear how it creaks with the pressure.  “Y-yeah I just,” she drags her eyes away, bringing her attention back to you. “I just thought I saw someone outside.”  “There’s lots of people outside,” you smile. “There always is.”  “No, I know, but they were like…” She looks back to the window. “They were crouching, looking in.” 
You sigh.
“Hopefully not an inspector for the Empire,” Rose turns back to you as you speak, and you smirk at her reassuringly. “That Armitage Hux prick has always had it out for me.” 
She laughs in that airy kind of way that she does, the kind of way that makes you bubble with gratitude - because you know her. You’re fortuitous enough, privileged enough to be around such a light, such an ethereal soul. You often wonder what you ever would have done without her. You often wonder if you’d have survived it - survived this, survived the loss of him, without her. 
“Maybe if you wouldn’t rile him up, he wouldn’t hate you so much.” “But it’s just so much fun to piss him off,” You grin. “He gets so flustered.” 
You stay like that, laughing together, until well after midnight. You’re glad for it, the distraction. You need it, even now. Even after all this time. Being alone - with your thoughts, with the gaping hole that sits inside your chest - doesn’t get any easier. They say time heals all wounds. You wish it would. It’s only made yours worse, only further infected it with spores of him, that burst and spread the ache right down into your bones. You curse him for it, sometimes. Loathe him for it - for how he’s made you, his parents, his friends feel. How he’s broken them. Reduced all of you to nothing but fickle fragments that pass through time and space with little awareness, with little recognition, of what’s happening to them. At least, that’s how you feel. But the bitterness, the fury - it doesn’t last long. It never does. 
When you trudge inside your new apartment (though new doesn’t seem very apt, perhaps crumbling would fit better), you feel him. He’s never been there, of course, but you feel him nonetheless. You feel him everywhere. In everything. And it haunts you - he haunts you. And he has no right to, because you know he’s not dead, he can’t be. 
You run through your nightly routine, finally readying yourself for slumber. You hope you’ll see him there, when you close your eyes and drift from hell into harmony. You hope you’ll find him nestled in the crevices of your subconscious. Because you know he’s there. He’s always there. And when you unlock your front door, when you prop open the windows before crawling under the sheets - you hope he’ll find you here, too. Nestled under the covers, waiting for him. 
And when you fall into deep sleep, into a dream - or a memory - of long ago, a dream of smiles and laughter and his honey-brown eyes, you don’t hear the door as it creaks and clicks open. You don’t hear the windows as they fall shut, the frigid breeze no longer assaulting the room. You don’t hear the footsteps, nor do you hear the breathing - panicked, rushed. 
When you’re asleep, you find him. And when you’re asleep, he finds you.
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unstoppableforcce · 5 years ago
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higher prices
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CHAPTER 1: spit
pairing: bounty hunter! Poe Dameron x reader
next part | masterlist | art for this story
a/n: a brand new idea though I promised to work on new parts for old stuff... however, I still hope you all like it!! I’m kinda swimming in inspiration for it right now, writing these two came so easy I’m kinda in love!!
“A drink for the thief!”
The foul chorus of the crowd cheered at that, the echoing noise reverberating around the expansive cantina as a drink was forced into your hand, exactly as the loudest presence in the place ordered.
Though the drink quickly fell from your grasp, wrists bound so tightly together that the cup escaped to the ground with nothing more than an equally echoing clank, while the contents spilled all over your already snow-soaked wears. Shame really, after the day you had, you could use the drink.
Even if it was coming from the blood-soaked hands of the real thief before you.
The hair at the back of your head was gripped tight in his gloved grasp before you were thrown to the ground with the remains of the drink. You considered standing up for a moment, but ultimately, they’d push you back to the floor anyways, right?
You needed to get out of here.
This was bad but the second they found out who you were, things were destined to get a whole lot worse. Except, after taking a long glance from the floor to the cantina surroundings, this crew had practically every avenue of escape covered.
The long window behind the bar held some promise, no crew guards serving drinks, just the somewhat gentle looking twi’lek. But even then, the bounds on your hands made it too difficult to even catch a drink, taking down even the simplest of bodies would be too hard, and that wasn’t even considering the blaster shots that would be aimed for your head the second you made a move.
No. The window wouldn’t work.
You were running out of time.
With the number of inhabitants flowing in and out of the cantina, surely one was bound to recognize your face from the wanted posters. Even the smallest whiff of the bounty tied to your head could cause a small war on this planet, surely bringing the first order to collect…
A hand found its way back to your neck and you were hoisted to your feet then subsequently slammed against the counter, your bound hands doing little out in front of you to cushion the impact. This you could handle. Stars, part of you was maybe even considering letting him beat you black and blue. At least then, with your face unrecognizable, you had a chance to survive.
The irony of it being the only way you could survive was not lost on you, but at the moment, nothing else was looking much better.
Nothing else—
“What have you got yourself here, Qi-Te?”
More than anything in the entire galaxy, you wanted that not to be the voice belonging to the man you knew it was. But one tip of your head in his direction, and you got your answer.
He was exactly what you feared. Him and his big mouth.
And speaking of his mouth, he let his tongue drag out languidly over his bottom lip, purposely eyeing you up and down the way nearly every man and being in the place had the second you were brought in. You couldn’t tell if it was really him or just an act. You also weren’t sure it made much of a difference.
He had a new scar across the bridge of his nose, and for half a second, you actually wondered how he got it.
Then Qi-Te grabbed you by the back of the neck once more and turned you as if to present you to him, and you remembered you didn’t care.
“You like her?” Qi-Te began, licking his lips in a similar fashion, though much less subtle than the man before you. “I’m thinking of keeping her, she’d look good in chains permanantly, don’t you think?”
Here was the real test. Could the infamous hunter keep his mouth shut?
You certainly had no plans to give him the satisfaction of pleading to him with your eyes but if you looked desperate, it was mainly because you were.
“Very good.” He quirked the brow not lined through with a scar towards you, as if to silently say you’re welcome.
You flashed back a subtle roll of your eyes, just enough to get your message across without accelerating your imminent demise. He seemed to get it, the smirk at the corner of his lips flicking upwards slightly. It was a purely silent conversation and you already wanted to hit him.
“I’d give you a go at her Dameron, but I’m guessing you came with something else in mind?” Qi-Te gave a whistle to the nearest member of his crew and quickly passed you off to him, the grip moving to your shoulder instead of the back of your neck. “You come for business?”
“That I did.”
Dameron gave you one last look as you were pulled away, and for a second, the briefest second, you almost swore you saw a small falter in his smirk, but you didn’t linger on it. If he was here for business, it didn’t matter. Not selling you out now didn’t mean he wouldn’t if the bargain turned in his favor.
You needed a way out. Now more than ever.
Putting any faith in that bounty hunter hadn’t gotten you anything in the past, you certainly didn’t have high hopes this time around.
He was going to get you killed—
“Can I get one last look at her?” He piped up just as you were to be led away from the bar for your next beating. The grip turned you back around, even as you fought it, it was overpowering to say the least. “It’s been a while since I’ve seen anything like her.”
Disgusting. If this was an act, he sure was laying it on thick.
“For the bounties you’ve brought, I owe you more than a look Dameron.”
Bounties? Plural. You had to muffle the scoff brewing in your chest as you were thrown his way, like a piece of mindless meat.
He caught you. White-striped gloves around your body as Qi let out a hearty chuckle, surely at the way you fell into him. “I have a few bounties for you, but they can wait. Have your fun.”
Bile rose in your throat at the thought and you briefly wondered if spitting his way was worth the beating that was sure to follow. You needed out of here—
“It won’t be long.” Dameron responded with equally boisterous amusement before turning his stare to yours. “Play nice, will you?”
Now you did spit. Directly into his face, finding the first joy you felt in weeks watching him recoil from it, letting out a heavy scoff which slowly descended to a chuckle. Qi lurched as if to teach you a lesson but Dameron held a hand up in defense.
“It’s okay.” Reaching up with one of his striped gloves, he wiped the moisture from his face before brushing the same gloved hand back through his curls. “The livelier, the better.”
His hands moved to hold you by the waist again, clenching even tighter to the fabric that covered you to keep you close as you flinched in his grip.
“That’s my man.” Qi-Te hailed.
He sure did seem to be. Maybe that was why you felt so sick so suddenly.
With one last nod to Qi-Te, Dameron began pulling you towards the private back rooms of the cantina, looking more like what you would refer to as one of Qi-Te’s men more and more. And that was as far from a compliment as you could manage for anyone.
Qi-Te led the deadliest crew on this side of the galaxy, built up in the remains that Crimson Dawn left behind when the empire fell and maybe not as wide-spread, but equally as filthy. Sadly, they were just the kind of filth who could obtain the kind of information that the Resistance couldn’t on their own. That was why you were there, to steal it from the ones who stole it first.
Or, hopefully to have it nicely handed to you as an undercover operative but clearly that hadn’t gone as planned. If it had? You’d be back on D’Qar reaping the benefits of the brand-new information instead of in the hands of the one man on the whole planet who knew exactly how much your head was worth in the right hands.
“Stop fighting me.” He seethed with hot breath into your ear as he continued to lead you along towards the back.
“Not likely.” Throwing your elbow back, he merely caught it and kept you moving.
“I’m here to help you—”
“Help me or help yourself?” You scoffed, glancing back over your shoulder to come face to face with him, having to look at him through your own loose hair from the number of times you’d been tossed around. His gaze still held as steady as ever in spite of it, it disgusted you. “You seem like a loyal employee, no?”
He leaned closer, if that was even possible. His hot breath was to your face now, all you could feel besides the near death grip he had around your waist.
“And you were doing what here, exactly?” He fought back.
“Trying to win a war, you?” Holding your ground as he went to move you again, he blew out a breath and stole a glance around, making sure no one was looking before he let any of his façade crack.
“Who the kriff do you think hired me to come get you?” He spoke, coming close to raising his voice at the end but managing to keep it low enough to avoid any unwanted attention.
You stuttered at that, just enough for him to take one last push and move you into an empty room, kicking the door shut behind him.
He moved for your stasis cuffs before you even had a chance to open your mouth, sending them clattering to the floor with a hefty sigh from his lips. For the first time since he showed up, you were finally getting a good chance to look at him and if you were being honest, he was far from the dashing hunter he tended to be whenever he turned up.
Even the white in his hair, his legendary curls known the galaxy over for their grip-ability, seemed more tousled out of place than usual.
It had been a while since he last popped up, you couldn’t help but wonder why now.
But that was second to you primary wondering, which was, why had he turned up here at all?
“The Resistance hired you?” You finally managed out, tension creeping back down your neck as he settled back against the wall two steps away from you.
“Leia called in a favor, yeah.” He released from his dampened lips, glancing to the door once then back to you, still holding all of his tension even as he tried to play it off. “She said you had gotten yourself into some trouble. I’d say that’s an understatement.”
Even in his softest voice, he sounded much further down the spectrum to sarcasm than sincerity.
“Does she know you pick up jobs for Qi-Te?” You couldn’t help but jut your chin his way.
Now his scoff was back, “Does she know you’re a spitter?”
That was a painfully quick return to the far from harmless banter between the two of you. But there was no sense in lingering on it, not if he was telling the truth.
If the General really did send him for a rescue, then he was the way out you had been looking for.
“How do we get out of here?” You prompted, taking a step towards him, “You’ve got one blaster and they’ve got an army.”
Army was maybe an understatement as well. Qi-Te ran a criminal empire. Maybe you make it out of this cantina but after that? He had the resources to rain down hell and would surely have no problem bringing in the First Order once he caught wind of who you really were.
Dameron didn’t even seem phased.
“I’m told I’m a bit like an army and well,” he shrugged, taking a step around you to put his foot up on the bed there and lifting the bottom cuff of his pant leg to grab a second blaster and pass it your way, “you should know something about fighting with absolutely zero odds in your favor, right?”
He always did like the low blows.
You took it instead of responding to the commentary but considered aiming it at him for a minute, your finger ghosted over the trigger. Eventually, your senses got the better of you and you moved for the door instead, well aware of his gaze following you there.
“You know this won’t make me like you, right Poe?”
“Princess, if I was trying for that, I would have stopped trying a long time ago.” He smirked back, the legendary Dameron smirk, then came to your side by the door.
Double-checking the blaster to be loaded, you turned to him. “Don’t call me ‘Princess’.”
“Don’t call me ‘Poe’ and we’ll call it even.”
“We are far from even.” Putting stress on every single word still didn’t feel like you were stressing it enough.
“I don’t need you telling me that, Princess.”
That was the first good chuckle you had in a long time.
Too bad you were also half-sure it would be your last as he nodded to you and opened the door up so the two of you could return to the cantina blasters ablaze.
——
-> tags: @cammisanders
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