I Feel Like It's Gotta Be Fake Relationship With Him. If He's Already Offering To Carpool For Money,

excuse me

Mark Hamill, Oscar Isaac and John Boyega | Star Wars: The Rise Of Skywalker BTS

Abel graveyard

Sketch dump

Many attempts but I haven't landed on a pose I like after the first failed try

Oh man, this was hot!

Hush (3)

PART 2

AN: Two years later and I'm finally finishing this. Hopefully someone out there still cares lmao 😆 (if not, that's totally cool, no worries, y'all).

(Un-beta’d)

PWP in which you and Poe see who can be quiet the longest.

Rated: M+ (this is smut so, i mean, you’ve been warned?) Words: 1,018 Pairing: Poe Dameron x F!Reader Warnings: PWP, p in v, kissing, a little consensual roughness, overstimulation (please let me know if i missed anything) AO3

——————

His jaw is clenched, plump lip trapped between his teeth as he breathes heavily through his nose. He’s sweating, skin flushed and warm as he fights to keep quiet. Softly, you exhale, your body rising and falling over his, hips rolling slowly, hands braced on his broad shoulders for leverage. 

“First one to make noise loses,” he’d challenged, though, at the moment, you’re not exactly sure either of you is losing.

His fingers dig into your hips as you ride him, your mouth falling open in a silent gasp as his cock hits that perfect spot inside you. Your body shakes a little, eyes fluttering closed as the pleasure jolts through your body, the sensations bordering on too much. You’ve been at this for what feels like hours, your thighs burning, mouth dry, skin damp—it almost feels like you’re running a marathon.

The feel of Poe’s thumb circling your clit brings you back to the task at hand. He must be close to breaking if he’s trying to sabotage you like this, knows this is the quickest way to break you. You swallow the moan rises in your throat, willing it to stay buried, at least for now. Your vision is hazy when you open your eyes again, taking in the absolutely wrecked state of the man beneath you. He’s barely hanging on, every inch of him tense as he fights against his baser instincts. He’s doing pretty well, considering, and there’s a part of you that almost feels a little bad for putting him through this. 

Not bad enough to let him win, though. 

You clench around his cock, watching with delight as his eyes roll back slightly, his throat bobbing as he swallows whatever delicious sounds are undoubtedly trying to claw their way to the surface. You do it again, smirking as he exhales sharply through his nose. He meets your gaze, a flicker of a warning in them. 

Eyes locked, you slowly drag one of your hands down his chest, your smirk widening as your thumb brushes one of his nipples. His hips stutter at your touch, the unexpected movement causing you to sink somehow even further down onto him, catching you off guard. You whimper as the tip of him bumps against your cervix, electricity still zinging through your body as the realization somewhat belatedly hits you—

“I win,” Poe pants roughly, an almost maniacal gleam in his eyes. 

Your stomach flips as a smile stretches across his lips, his dark eyes full of even darker promises. Oh Maker, you are in for it now.

Without much warning, he moves, quickly maneuvering you so you’re laid beneath him with your back against the bed. His cock slips from your heat in his haste, and you hate how empty you feel, even if it’s only for a moment. He groans when he sinks back into you, muttering about how you feel like heaven as he pulls his hips back and quickly thrusts back in, knocking the breath from your lungs. 

His eyes meet yours again, silently asking if this is oaky, if you’re okay. Panting, you nod, your fingers reaching up to push his damp curls from his eyes. He leans into your touch for a moment, then resumes his movement, pulling back slowly before snapping his hips and thrusting back inside you. He quickly falls into a steady pace, each push of his hips absolutely devastating. He watches you for a moment, his eyes dragging greedily down your body to where you’re joined. 

“So beautiful,” he slurs, moving his hand up to cup one of your breasts, his thumb teasing your pebbled nipple.

You arch and writhe beneath him, completely at his mercy as he maintains his punishing pace. You’re not sure how much more you can take, your body practically shaking now as Poe handles your body as deftly as he does his ship. He can tell you’re close, groaning as you clench and flutter around his length. He leans forward, caging you beneath him with his arms as he fucks you into the bed, his lips claiming yours in a hot, messy kiss. You feel like you're drowning, completely surrounded and unable to catch your breath. Poe breaks the kiss, moaning as you gasp for air, your fingers scrabbling for purchase on his back as he slightly adjusts the angle of his thrusts, grinding his hips against yours as he searches for that spot he knows will finally send you over the edge.

You both know the moment he finds it, that slight brush of his cock setting off a chain reaction of pleasure inside you. Unable to stop them, broken moans escape from between your lips as your body sings, the euphoria of your release rolling through you in waves. Poe follows you into the abyss a moment later, groaning loudly as he spills his warmth into you, his eyes rolling back in his pretty little head; if you weren’t so far gone, you’d probably appreciate the sight.

Your chest is still heaving when he pulls himself off and collapses beside you on the bed, already mourning the loss of him. His hand finds yours as you both lay sprawled atop the bed sheets.

“Okay?” he asks softly, lacing your fingers with his, his thumb rubbing soothingly over the back of your hand as he turns to look at you.

You meet his gaze, your eyes still a little unfocused, and smile, body still tingling from your orgasm. “Better than okay. You?”

He smiles, eyes drooping a little as exhaustion begins to settle over him. He brings your clasped hands to his lips and brushes a kiss against your knuckles.

“Victorious,” he says, a teasing glint in his eyes.

You snort, shaking your head in amusement. “You won the battle, Flyboy, not the war.”

He chuckles, arching an eyebrow as he slowly drags his dark eyes down the length of you. “Well then, I look forward to the next skirmish, sweetheart.”

You bite your lip, heat prickling beneath the surface of your skin. “As do I Commander, as do I.”

If you enjoyed this, please let me know! I appreciate every single reblog and/or comment. Thank you. 💖

🌟 Masterlist 🌟

i am no longer doing a taglist. please follow @charmingupdates for updates and turn on notifications.

Oscar Isaac As Cecil In "Revenge for Jolly!", 2012

Oscar Isaac as Cecil REVENGE FOR JOLLY! (2012) dir. Chadd Harbold

If you think he‘s cute now, wait until he looks up at you from on his knees

HAPPY STAR WARS DAY!

Oscar Isaac as Santiago Garcia in TRIPLE FRONTIER (2019)

a spoonful of sugar

summary: marc's not very good at taking his medicine.

(I was the worst at drinking this stuff as a kid so I need validation)

cw: fluff, sickfic, marc is a little baby

You knew it was coming. Even as he flapped his hand and rolled his eyes and laughed allergies, baby, you knew. When it was eight in the morning and your early bird boyfriend hadn't even stirred, you knew. That rumbling cough wasn't an annual pollen allergy.

There was a pot of tea on the stove before he woke. You'd prepped the supplies - tissues, a damp towel, some anti-inflammatory, and were in the middle of making food when his croaky voice broke the silence. You knelt by his bed and pulled the blankets away from his sweaty face.

"Help," he rasped, "I'm -cough- dying..."

The desperate display of obvious dramatics made you grin. He was always such a tough guy; scoffing at band-aids and ice packs. It was tempting to tease but his puppy eyes were too much.

"Come on, big guy, let's get some food in you." You gently pulled the covers down to help him up, but he harrumphed and yanked them right back.

"Sod off," came Steven's weary voice from under the comforter. "Marc's being a toff and making me deal with the sore throat." A pitiful sniffle and a hacking cough erupted from his broad shoulders. The blankets shuddered as Steven raked in a breath.

"Marc, come on," you cooed, rubbing his back. "Leave poor Steven alone. I've got some stuff for you, you'll feel better."

A pause, then some grumbling as he sat up. "Poor Steven? Wha' bou' me?"

His whining was choked up by the pressure in his throat. You could see the blockage in his sinuses as he struggled to keep his eyes open. A whistling sigh left his lips. He was definitely sick. Deliriously, Marc dragged a hand through his wild, sweaty hair. He reminded you of a scruffy ragdoll cat dragged in from the rain.

With a fussy Marc in tow, you fixed a cup of herbal tea and some food. So far he just seemed congested but he needed some food to handle the medicine. He miserably blew at the steaming mug, swaying on his feet. You held him against you sympathetically. He greedily drank in the attention, sniffing louder to earn a few forehead kisses.

Marc didn't get sick very often. He was pretty good at eating well, getting sleep when he could, and exercising regularly. Usually he could sleep it off and be totally fine. Every once in a while though, he'd get kicked on his ass for a while.

The kitchen island had every box of decongestant and cough syrup you could find splayed out in a heap. You weren't sure which one he preferred, so you'd let him pick. Not one of them seemed to be opened.

He had finished half of the tea, grimacing after every sip. Marc much preferred coffee, said his beseeching glance at the coffeemaker.

"Caffeine won't help," you chided gently, standing in front of the alluring machine. He sent you a sour look and folded his arms, shivering at another wracking cough. You reminded yourself to be gentle - Marc didn't like feeling weak.

Letting him go about grabbing water and wolfing down more toast, you examined the available medicines.

He'd need some ibuprofen, and probably a decongestant. You'd give it to him now so he could take a hot shower while you changed the sheets. Airing out the flat would clear the germy air well enough.

Marc approached you warily, eyeing the pharmaceutical stash you had amassed.

"Whassat?" he asked hoarsely, ducking his chin against your neck. Petting his cheek absently, you continued your perusing.

"We need to get you some meds, honey. Do want the grape stuff or no flavor? Haven't got anything better, looks like."

You felt his lips frown against your skin. "I'll just take a shower, don't neeb all tha' stuff." he coughed again, wincing at the blockage in his nose. His breath was hot. You frowned, pressing your palm against his head.

"You're feverish, Marc, you need something more than a shower. You can take one after." Filling a glass with water, you handed him a tablet and nodded. "Take that."

Muttering, he knocked it back and slugged down the water. Sliding behind you, he made his way towards the bathroom but you tugged his sleeve back.

"Hang on, one more." You slowly measured out a dose of decongestant. The garish red syrup glug-glugged quietly, an acrid smell of medicinal berry coating your nose. Blegh, you winced. It was baffling how nobody had thought to make it a tasteless pill. Drinking ounces of disgusting syrup was your least favorite way to knock out a cold.

Turning, you carefully handed Marc the little cup. "Drink that and another glass of water, then you can shower. I'll address the sheets."

You made sure to adjust the thermostat on your way to the bedroom. Once his fever dropped he'd want some warmth to sleep in. The window let in a cooling breeze, washing away the stuffy scent of sick. London's quiet din rumbled outside, providing a soundtrack for your relaxed cleaning.

Bundling the sheets and towels into your arms, you made your way to the washroom. You paused.

Marc was hunched over the counter, glaring at something.

"Marc?"

A flicker of embarrassment, then he curled his body away and grumbled a response. Frowning, you tossed the sheets in the hamper and crossed to him.

"What've you been doing? I gave that to you a while ago."

He nodded, still scowling at the viscous berry medicine. A pause. you tilted your head.

"...You okay?"

Marc didn't respond. That little serving of medicine continued to endure his baleful wrath, practically trembling on the countertop. The spell was broken by an enormous sneeze. Marc reeled from the sound, shaking the fuzz from his head.

"I think you've intimidated it enough," you joked softly, rubbing his shoulder. "But really, honey, you need to drink that."

A familiar pair of wide brown eyes blinked sorrowfully at you. "But...it tastes foul," Steven whined, sticking his lip out for emphasis. You raised your eyebrow and poked his side.

"Spector, stop shoving off to Steven. You're the one who wanted to sleep with a window open in November, you gotta suffer the consequences."

A moment of twitching and he was back, bleary and disgruntled. Ears pink with Steven's admission, Marc hedged away from you again and tried to escape to the bathroom. His clumsy feet shuffled along the creaky baseboards. You let him have his way for a moment, but soon enough was enough.

"Marc, you've literally drunk the most disgusting alcohol ever without a second thought."

He looked at you reproachfully, trying to work Steven's angle of adorable petulance. His grumpy frown did make your heart fawn, but the wracking cough and guttural sneeze overran the knee-jerk reaction.

Irritated that his tactics weren't working, Marc slumped onto your shoulder. Chuckling, you rubbed his back, rocking him side to side. His hands were insistent, tugging you backwards. You realized, almost too late, that he was trying to angle himself closer to an escape path.

"Spector-"

Before you could grab him, he had disappeared into the bathroom and turned on the tap.

You sighed. At least he was showering.

The laundry was done, and the apartment sufficiently sanitized by the time Marc reappeared, damp hair curling around his ears. He looked a little brighter. His eyes were clear and his cheeks a healthier ruddiness rather than feverish.

And, just like before, the little cup of syrup lay sitting on the counter for him. He was visibly bothered when you hadn't forgotten.

"Meds," you said firmly when he moved in for a kiss. The comment offended him, and he tried to peck you anyway. You put a hand over his mouth and pushed gently, handing him the cup.

"I don't wan' to," he rasped, lip curling. "It tastes like lighter fluid - cough - and I don't feel better anyway."

"How would you know, you haven't taken it?"

Marc huffed, dramatically folding his arms and turning his nose up.

"Marc."

Your tone made him duck his head. It was funny to watch him squirm; his reluctance almost reminded you of Steven. Usually he would bite the bullet and do anything that made him uncomfortable with nothing but a shrug. Hell, you'd seen him clean Steven's sick off the toilet after a night out with less of a reaction.

Sympathizing a little bit, you poured a glass of orange juice and slid it over.

"If you drink the medicine really fast, you can wash it down with juice."

Marc grumbled, still wrinkling his nose.

"Does that work?"

"Hmmm no," he huffed, folding his arms tighter. "I thin' you should gib me a kiss 'cause you're bein' meab," he garbled, voice strangled around the congestion. You bit down a laugh, trying to seem sincere.

"You can't even talk, Marc, I am not gonna kiss you."

The admission made his head snap up, eyes terrified. You worked this new angle, putting your hands up and backing away. "I don't want your germs."

He protested quietly, hands reaching out.

"Hug?"

"Meds."

"But-"

"No buts," you said, tone gentle again, "come on. Just a second. It'll take like two seconds and then you can drink some juice and go lay down. Yes, I'll lay with you," you acquiesced at his narrowed gaze.

He was stubbornly refused. "Marc," you sighed, dragging a hand over your face. "You'd be done with this by now if you just drank it."

"I don' like it," he bit out. Unbelievable. You stared at each other for a moment, disdainfully scowling at the situation.

"You know what, fine," you griped, taking the cup in your hand. "Pick a number between one and five."

He blinked, but relented. "F...four," he wheezed, wiping his nose with his sleeve. You held up four fingers.

"I will give you four kisses if you drink this."

He brightened. "snfff- wait, I meant fibe."

You leaned forward and nudged his nose. He tried to grab you for a kiss but you ducked back, taking the opportunity to grab his jaw gently. Eyes hazy and loving, he smiled at you.

"Open," you said softly, tapping his lips and winking.

Marc obeyed, clearly expecting a kiss. Instead, you gently tipped the medicine to his lips. Marc yelped at the sharp taste. He fussed and balked, struggling not to choke. You shushed him, tipping the cup until it had all dribbled past his lips.

"Drink it quick, honey, there you go, all done-" You shoved him the glass of juice, coaxing him to finish the dose. Marc spluttered and gagged, wincing at the taste. Eyes watering, he glared at you.

"Tha' was rude," he pouted. You cuddled him up and kissed his forehead.

"Yeah, but now you can go snuggle into bed." This outcome placated him greatly, nuzzling into your shoulder as you situated the bed. Marc jabbed your side insistently and you paused to give him a kiss.

Wrinkling your nose, you nodded. "Wow. Yeah, I can taste that. It's pretty shit."

He threw his hands up, rolling his eyes as you giggled. "Sorry for torturing you," you teased, peppering his cheek with light kisses.

"Fuggin' waterboarded me with that," he grouched, supressing a grin at your doting affection.

The blankets, still warm from the dryer, were tucked high around his drowsy face. You lay as close as you could, draping your arm over his side. Marc snuffled and coughed for a few moments but was asleep soon, breath puffing hot against your neck. You monitored him for a while, hands gently stroking his hair before succumbing to your own nap.

@krakenkitty @ominoose @bulletgoth @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @justsomeonecalledemma @iolaussharpe-24 @rosegnome @twwcs @heeheehoohoofictimr @steven-grants-world @ael-xander @to-be-a-sunshine @weasleyswizarding-wheezeswheezes

comment to join tags!