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hauntedhowlett-writes · 1 year ago

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MISSION ACCOMPLISHED

pairing: poe dameron x female reader

rating: explicit (18+ MDNI)

word count: 1077

summary:

General Organa needed more skilled fighter pilots, and there was no one more skilled than Poe Dameron, former spice runner and current New Republic commander. With the General’s messages going unanswered, you’ve been sent in to engage Dameron. All you had to do was convince him to return with you to the Resistance base.

author’s note: posting this as a sign of life, as it’s the only thing i’ve managed to finish over the last month 💀 i’m still working on my many joel, din, and frankie ideas. i’m just slow - hope you can forgive me.

tags/warnings: explicit sexual content (18+ minors do not interact), able bodied reader, no physical descriptions for reader, no use of y/n, oral (f receiving), vaginal fingering, unprotected p in v, dirty talk, praise, pet names, uh kidnapping?

It was supposed to be a simple mission.

Where it got complicated was somewhere around drink two, when Poe slid his arm around your waist and your heart skipped a beat as you met his dark gaze. His full lips tilted up in a smile that said he knew exactly what you were thinking and you were long gone, mission temporarily forgotten as he leaned in close and pressed a trail of kisses across your neck.

Now you’re on your back in a cramped bunk, fingers tangled in Poe’s curly hair as he devours you like a starving man, tongue lavishing your clit with agonizing determination. A thick finger presses to your entrance, sliding in with little resistance as your back arches from the bed.

“Maker, you’re a mess,” Poe murmurs on a breath, head raised to watch you as he works a second finger into you, pressing deep and curling them against your front wall as he withdraws. His tan skin is shiny with your arousal and his hair is a mess and you want to say something back about how he’s not looking too put together right now himself but you can’t, not with the way his skilled hands are driving you to the brink.

A few swipes of his thumb across your clit is all it takes to make you shatter, the walls of your cunt squeeze his fingers as you come and come and come. Poe’s hand withdraws slowly and he presses your thighs apart, watching as you pulse around nothing and you whine at the loss.

“Shhh, sweetheart,” he says, sitting up and working the belt of his flight pants loose. “Not finished yet.”

Poe shoves his pants down his thighs, only enough to expose his cock. He leans forward, elbows pressed into the mattress beside your head as he slides his length against your slick heat, brushing over your sensitive clit with each movement. His mouth finds yours and he kisses you deeply, his spicy scent and the earthy taste of your own release invading your senses as he does. The head of his cock catches against your entrance and he presses forward the slightest bit before pulling back again.

“Quit teasing,” you command, but your voice vibrates with need. He does it again, a little deeper this time, and again, a little deeper still.

“You can just say you want my cock,” he says, self-assured tone punctuated with a smirk. “Come on, say it.”

You stare up at him defiantly as he inches his hips forward, slowly, slowly, slowly. Your clenched jaw loosens, mouth dropping open on a gasp as he drags across a sensitive spot inside of you, and he stops, holding himself still inside of you. Despite all his arrogance, you can still see the way he’s fraying at the edges. It’s in the sheen of sweat on his brow, the way the muscles in his neck have gone taut, the crack of joints as his hands clench into tight fists on the bed.

“Fuck me, Poe,” you finally say.

And fuck you he does.

He sits up on his knees, your ass perched on his thighs and his hands holding tight to your hips as he slams deep, punching the air from your lungs. His pace is brutal, powerful, singular determination etched into his features as he uses your body for his own pleasure now.

Hi hands leave your hips to lean over you once more, one hand on the mattress by your head and the other pressing one of your legs up and to the side, opening you wide. His hips slow from a piston to a smooth wave, each deep slide of him making you moan his name.

“That’s it,” he groans, “Who’s making you feel this good, sweetheart, huh?”

“You, Poe,” you reply.

“That’s right.” He drops to his elbows again, pressed close against your body, thrusts morphing into a grind that keeps you full. He sinks his teeth into the side of your neck, soothes the ache with a kiss, and whispers how good you feel into your ear until you’re shaking, quietly begging for him to make you come again.

His hand slides between your bodies, fingers rubbing sloppy circles through the slick gathered on your skin. Another nip of his teeth sends you over the edge and he moans, deep and guttural against your neck as he fills you with a new warmth, cock pulsing as the waves of your own orgasm drag one from him.

You’re both panting, gasping for breath as you come down from your twin highs. Poe pulls out and turns over to land on the sliver of bed available between your body and the wall. He kicks his pants off into a pile at the foot of the bed and wraps an arm around your middle, pulling your body against his.

“Stay,” he mumbles against your neck, a kiss pressed behind your ear. You don’t respond, you don’t have to. He’s asleep within seconds, gentle snores filling the small bunk space.

When you’re certain he’s out cold, you slide out from beneath his arm and dress yourself. You try not to think too hard about how you’d like to crawl back into bed with him, not while you’re digging your comm unit from your pants.

Ready for extraction.

When Poe wakes up, the first thing he notices is that you’re not there.

The second thing he notices is that he’s not even in his own bunk.

He sits up, panic coursing through his veins. Where is he? Where are you? Are you alright? Is he—

“Commander Dameron,” your familiar voice says through a speaker. Poe looks up, finds you watching him from the other side of a transparisteel window. “You’re safe. You’re currently on a Resistance base in an undisclosed location.”

“How did—“

“You’re a very heavy sleeper, Commander. You should probably have a medic droid look into that for you,” you say, cutting off his question. “You’ve been brought here to speak with General Organa.”

Poe smirks. “Do they know how exactly you got me here, sweetheart?”

“It’s Captain, actually.”

All masterlists

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron smut #poe dameron x female reader #poe dameron fanfiction #star wars sequels #poe dameron drabble #poe dameron fic

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soukokuforthesoul · 10 days ago

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times when poe’s writing, and there’s this little subplot of romance he’s playing with, but he doesn’t really know how to get it right — and then ranpo calls, like he knows what poe’s thinking, and he probably does know, and they’re just talking for a bit, about how the weather is in america as opposed to in japan, how it’s getting late and poe should really be sleeping (it’s 3 a.m.), how ranpo’s work has been, and then ranpo stops and asks poe how his book is going along, and poe looks down at the manuscript and as he’s about to form the words that he’s struggling and maybe ranpo can help him, he realizes he knows exactly how to continue this — so he’s scribbling down his ideas, and ranpo can hear the pencil scratching against the paper so there’s a smile in his voice as he asks, “ed, you still there?” and poe’s nodding vigorously, despite the fact they can’t see each other, his cheeks burning something crimson as he gazes down at his notes and finds so many of them reminiscent to how he feels for his dear ranpo

#ranpoe #ranpo edogawa #edgar allan poe #bsd poe #bad ranpo #ranpo x poe #poe x ranpo #i love him calling poe ‘ed’ idek why #bsd #bungou stray dogs #bsd thoughts #bsd drabbles

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backseatbabyy · 3 months ago

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The Ballad of Annabel Lee, as Haymitch Abernathy Remembers

~ Sunrise On the Reaping SPOILERS ~

Haymitch Abernathy saw his girl sing with an audience once. Although it was just her uncles, himself, and baby Annabel Silver watching, Lenore Dove approached the performance as if she were on stage before the entire district. It’d been a special occasion, Annabel Silver’s birthday. She let Annabel Silver bang a few keys out on the piano, before she herself sat down at the instrument, and with an almost heartbreakingly beautiful voice, sang:

“It was many and many a year ago,

In a kingdom by the sea,

That a maiden there lived whom you may know

By the name of Annabel Lee;

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

Than to love and be loved by me.

Little Annabel Silver, like she recognized her name-song from the womb, had pounded her chubby fists and grinned a gummy grin. By the time Lenore Dove’s started the next verse, green eyes glittering, Annabel Silver had quieted, and watched her cousin with wide, entranced eyes, drinking in the way her fingers danced across the keys.

I was a child and she was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea,

But we loved with a love that was more than love—

I and my Annabel Lee—

With a love that the wingèd seraphs of Heaven

Coveted her and me.”

Haymitch doesn’t hear a Covey naming song again after Lenore Dove dies. Not for a long time. Not until he’s stumbling through the Seam, a three-quarters drunken bottle of white liquor in hand. He can hear low music coming from the little house near the Meadow and the woods. There’s a girl singing, and for a moment he forgets the meadow, and the gumdrop, because he swears he can hear his girl singing in a voice as soft and low as moonlight filtering through the tall grass. He doesn’t dare encroach on the yard from which the sound spills out. He watches from the banks of shrubbery that surround it as a girl with dark hair plucks at a guitar. He can see her toe tapping time to the music, her voice low and haunting despite her grin.

“And this was the reason that, long ago,

In this kingdom by the sea,

A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling

My beautiful Annabel Lee;

So that her highborn kinsmen came

And bore her away from me,

To shut her up in a sepulchre

In this kingdom by the sea.”

When she sings the next lines, Lenore Dove rises so fully in his mind he chokes on her presence, the half-swallowed rotgut dribbling from the side of his mouth.

“The angels, not half so happy in Heaven,

Went envying her and me—

Yes!—that was the reason (as all men know,

In this kingdom by the sea)

That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.”

He can remember the next verse before she sings it, mumbling along off-time and key in his drunken state. Haymitch takes a swig from the bottle, and sinks down onto the yellowed grass.

“But our love it was stronger by far than the love

Of those who were older than we—

Of many far wiser than we—

And neither the angels in Heaven above

Nor the demons down under the sea

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;”

The bottle nearly empty, Haymitch’s eyes see a boy with the fair hair and light skin of the Townies watching the girl with unadulterated rapture. He’s sitting cross-legged at her feet, looking up at her. Annabel Silver, for it is little Annabel Silver who’s singing, has her eyes on him and a smile playing at her lips. Haymitch tumbles forward, the last drops of white liquor watering the ground. He’s only dimly aware of Annabel Silver still singing her name-song in the yard.

“For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;

And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side

Of my darling—my darling—my life and my bride,

In her sepulchre there by the sea—

In her tomb by the sounding sea.”

When he wakes in the morning, his mouth tastes of day-old liquor and dirt, but a grey blanket shields his body from the dew, and a pillow softens the ground beneath his head. He cranes his neck and he can almost see a girl with dark hair streaming behind her speeding down the knoll back to the house, empty bottle in hand.

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foundedroses · 4 months ago

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BSD Multi NSFW Headcanons: Ass, Tits or Thighs?

Featuring: Dazai, Fyodor, Akutagawa, Poe, Jouno, Mori, Sigma.

W/C: 0.1k

C/W: mentions of sex, cursing, just gen smut

A/N: eeek ive never done multi headcanons before!! kinda excittttinnnggggg! I kind of just wrote some rando characters i think would be fun to write some small nsfw hcs for.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

OSAMU DAZAI: Ass - this little fucker just looks like he is the type to slap your ass every chance he gets.

FYODOR DOSTOEVSKY: Thighs - Just loves the way your legs wrap around his waist when he fucks into you, also kills to see his markings against the flesh of your inner thigh.

RYUUNOSUKE AKUTAGAWA: Tits - Whether youre riding him or just on top of him in general, he can't help but gawk at the way your tits bounce with your each and every movemnt.

EDGAR ALLAN POE: Thighs - This man internally (and externally) has a brain haemorrhage every time you wear thigh highs or show off your thighs in any sort of way.

JOUNO SAIGIKU: Tits - Bro can get pretty rough in bed, so squeezing your tits and just absolutely abusing them gets him pretty motivated.

MORI OGAI: Ass - Whenever youre on top, he loves to grab and squeeze your ass.

SIGMA: Thighs - Lil bro is sooo gently in bed. I just cant see him being rough- but loves to gently dig his nails into the soft flesh of your thighs, especially when your sitting upon his lap.

#fanfics #fan fictions #one shot #drabble #smut #bsd #bungo stray dogs #bsd osamu dazai #bsd fyodor dostoevsky #bsd ryuunosuke akutagawa #bsd edgar allan poe #bsd mori #bsd mori ougai #bsd sigma

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lieutnt · 2 years ago

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Poe Dameron being a sub bottom being on the top of the reader while having sex in cowgirl position? :3

Poe finds you when the celebrations are wearing down, entwining your hands to lead you to the room he’s claimed for himself. It’s the first time you’ve been able to slow down and breathe the past few weeks, the threat of the First Order always looming over your heads. But now with the threat gone Poe pushes you down on the bed, climbing over you to straddle your waist.

He kisses you with desperation, barely moving away as you strip yourself and him bare while swallowing each gasp and moan in between kisses as you stretch him open with slick fingers. When he’s stretched enough he lines up with your cock and sinks down slowly, hands planted on your stomach until he’s flush with your pelvis.

He moves leisurely, soft moans tumbling from his lips as your hands take hold of his hips, guiding him in a gentle up and down as his walls pulse around you. You doubt either of you will last long, the quick trysts you’d gotten used to leaving an itch in your brain for something longer where you can take your time to draw out pleasure from each other, but the orgasm already beginning to build in your veins will be the first of many.

#poe dameron #poe dameron x male reader #top male reader #male reader #top reader #star wars #lieutnts drabbles #lieutnts writing

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teadari · 8 months ago

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The young lady, as is often the case with those whose souls are wrapped in tenderness and fragility, too frequently surrendered to night visions, failing to find joy in her waking days. Her dreams were like gray clouds hanging over a sunny sky—disrupting the harmony of her slumber and robbing her of peace, stealing precious hours that could have been spent in blissful serenity.

Before moving in with her partner, she, like a mysterious specter, concealed her torment, daring not to confide in a single soul. Yet that fateful night, when her nightmares reached their peak, finally compelled her to speak.

— At Night —

She dreamed of a dark forest where the leaves of the trees rustled underfoot like living beings, whispering unknown words with each cautious step she took. The forest, shrouded in ominous silence, created an atmosphere that pressed down on her chest, making her heart race as if sensing the approach of some sinister ventriloquist. Chills, like cold streams, slid down her spine, confirming that this emptiness was filled with something vague and threatening.

But the most terrifying sight, like a foreboding storm cloud, awaited her ahead. After walking a short distance, she suddenly stumbled upon what she feared most—a vision capable of tearing her soul apart. Her dearest person, the one whose love she had cherished in her heart, had succumbed to darkness and committed a dark deed that forever altered her perception of everything that had ever existed.

Dazai hung from the tree like a sorrowful fruit, not yet ripe for its time; the rope tightly wrapped around his neck constricted his life with the same relentless cruelty that fate showed to anyone who dared to rise against its chains. His eyes, empty and perpetually dark, radiated the same bottomless sadness as the very trees surrounding him—gloomy sentinels standing at the threshold between life and death. His body dangled like a piece of fresh meat, recently severed from the throes of passion—alive and dead at once, with drops of endured sorrow poised to fall like autumn leaves into the abyss of oblivion.

His appearance pierced her soul like an unrelenting cold, and fear, like a dark cloud, filled the insides of the observing girl, frozen in horror at the sight before her. Tears—an indistinct shadow of grief—silently rolled down her cheeks, leaving traces on her pale skin like deep, carved lines on an ancient marble slab. In that moment, she realized the truth: the world is full of suffering and merciless fates—every heart, regardless of its nobility, pays tribute to the relentless circumstances in which life and death intertwine in an endless dance.

As she gazed at this agonizing sight, she wept through her dreams, her sobs like a mournful breeze reaching the ears of the young man, stirring him from sweet oblivion. On that night, when the world seemed wrapped in a soft veil of silence, he suddenly felt his heart overflowing with unease.

— Darling? Darling!— he said, gently shaking her by the shoulders, hoping to dispel the ominous foreboding that loomed like leaden clouds on the horizon.

But she only cried in silence, tightly embracing Dazai, trying to shield herself from the storms raging within her soul. Nestling against his warm chest, she sought the comfort that only he seemed able to provide.

— Don’t leave me...— her voice, choked with sobs, carried a timid plea, piercing through the darkness like a slender beam of light breaking through dense clouds.

— I won’t leave you, I promise, — he replied, embracing her tenderly, as if those simple words could heal all her internal wounds. He ran his fingers through Ohiko's hair and gently placed a warm kiss on her forehead—one that ignited a flame capable of warming even the coldest corners of their worlds.

As dawn broke and the first rays of sunlight began to filter through the curtains, illuminating the room with its morning glow, the situation became clear. She, as expected, poured out everything in tears and hysteria, like a turbulent stream breaking free from its dammed course. But, fortunately, all turned out well, as often happens in life, where the unfamiliar and the grand collide with our fragility.

Upon learning the entire story, the young man stood still in thought, bewildered by the realization that the world they lived in was filled with horrors and uncertainty. From that moment on, his heart, once overflowing with something infinitely precious, became filled with a care that, like a strong balm, soothed the wounds that caused suffering. Every gesture he made, every act of kindness, was infused with love, like the air carrying the scent of fresh greenery after the rain.

He tried to protect her from all the horrors of the world, from those unknown shadows that could loom over their happiness at any moment. His care lifted the weight of worries and doubts from her shoulders, helping her return to life once more.

And once again, she realized that she was truly needed by him, just as a flower needs the sun to grow and bloom.

The little tiger, innocent and carefree, had no idea of the heavy burden his girlfriend was carrying—a poor soul deprived of peace and healthy sleep for three long days. With sincere naivety, much like a child playing in the meadows, he embraced the world around him, oblivious to the storm brewing behind him and the reality that his role in this unfolding drama might not be as carefree as he wished to believe.

Yet, the final drop that overfilled the cup of her suffering was a single dream—vivid and alluring like the gentle dawn of the first rays of light, yet at the same time ominous enough to awaken the dormant fears in her heart. In this dream, where delicate threads of her anxieties intertwined, she faced a deep pain that pierced her chest like a knife's edge, leaving behind a gaping wound filled with dark thoughts of loss and loneliness.

This dream, which seemed to come with good intentions, turned against her, becoming a symbol of her inner struggles and anxieties.

Unaware of her torment, the little tiger continued to live in his own world, vibrant and colorful, inadvertently leaving his beloved alone with her dark thoughts. And in this contrast lay, as always, a profound truth: love is often blind, allowing us to see only superficial joys while invisible scars hide in our hearts, yearning for light and understanding.

The Dream Itself

Ohiko found herself in her parents' home, a quiet corner that seemed to hold all her darkest memories. Within those walls, steeped in the spirit of unearned suffering, she had spent some of the least pleasant years of her youth—echoes of youthful dreams fading into the heavy, gray routine of life.

In the room where she now stood, a dim twilight reigned: shadows of the past filled every corner, and only a solitary bulb illuminated her small space, intertwining memories of pain. Those faint rays resembled her hopes—they shone, but could not light everything, thus only highlighting her loneliness, repeatedly drawing her back to a time when the world seemed divided into black and white.

In the dim light, two silhouettes could be discerned, seemingly engaged in a fierce argument—their voices, echoing off the walls, resembled whirlwinds rushing through the space.

At first glance, this might have seemed like an ordinary scene typical of any family turmoil, where passions spill over into a silent standoff, creating a semblance of familiar drama.

But then something unexpectedly surfaced in her memory—a poignant feeling that awakened long-forgotten images, reminding her of moments of joy, bright dreams, and youthful exhilaration that had left her so long ago. It was as if shadows emerging from the depths of her consciousness began to whisper once more.

It was that terrible day, forever etched in Ohiko's memory as a dark stain—the day when childhood dreams turned into nightmares. Ten years ago, on a Monday evening, when the world seemed shrouded in a gentle shadow, her stepfather became a manifestation of cruel and merciless fate, more irritable than ever. His brutality and penchant for alcoholic solace merged into one soulless being, and on that fateful night, he committed an act that could neither be justified nor forgotten—the murder of her mother.

Noticing the presence of his eight-year-old stepdaughter, the man, like a beast tormented by his own demons, was once again consumed by a simple yet monstrous rage—he beat her and, unable to contain his fury, locked her in a room, as if it were an old dungeon where the darkest dreams came true. The moment the door slammed shut with a deafening bang that echoed through the corners, Ohiko felt the very foundations of her reality tremble beneath her feet. The regular pounding—desperate, brutal attempts to break free—became her sole purpose, even as she realized with each effort that this struggle was not just against the lock, but against life itself, which had no intention of releasing her from its shadows.

Barely gathering the remnants of her strength, she managed to survive like a plant pushing through cracks in the asphalt—fragile yet tenacious, reaching for the light despite the harsh winds. And when time, in its merciless march, caught up with her and she turned sixteen, fate decided to exact revenge for her unbearable suffering. Her stepfather suffered a heart attack, sudden as all misfortunes, and he died, leaving behind only emptiness and fear.

Let’s return to the dream.

｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ｡ﾟ•┈୨♡୧┈• ｡ﾟ

Even after many years, the fear that once gripped her heart resurfaced in the darkest corners of her mind. The same circumstances that had once scorched her youth now weighed heavily upon her shoulders—the death of her beloved mother, the horror reflected in every drop of blood that remained on the walls.

And, most importantly, the cold gaze filled with hatred pierced her soul like a chilling wind from distant lands. It was not just a look, but an entire abyss, absorbing all the pain and suffering that had once tormented her. A terrifying silhouette, like a shadow of the forgotten, slowly approached her—a reminder of fears buried deep in the past, only to break free once more.

The nightmare, confined within the tiny cage of her soul, did not end, and with horror, she realized that as it broke through the night’s darkness, it was infiltrating her reality, robbing her of comfort and peace. Suddenly, her consciousness, shattering the chains of sleep, awakened her in a cold sweat, as if life itself were breaking free from the depths of long-held traumas.

Thus, in this silent confrontation between the past and the present, Ohiko understood: fear is not just an emotion; it is an eternal shadow that follows us on the path to liberation. It becomes a part of our existence, like a scar that reminds us of the battles fought in youth, and only by facing it head-on can one find inner strength and realize that true freedom may not lie in the absence of fear, but in the ability to live with it, accepting it as an unchanging companion on the journey toward the light.

Salty tears quietly fell onto her palms, resembling raindrops cascading onto parched earth, traveling through her tormented soul. However, the sweet boy was not by her side—Atsushi was still at work, seemingly consumed by responsibilities that pulled him into their endless depths, leaving her alone with the burdens that had piled up around her.

In that endless night, when the stars, like distant companions, watched her suffering, she could not sleep; the hysteria that burned in her heart grew increasingly intrusive and scattered, like a fierce hurricane tearing through the wastelands of her mind. Time felt stretched, hateful and merciless, and every whisper in the night only emphasized her inner uncertainty.

Atsushi returned almost at dawn, as the first glimpses of light began to carve their way through the enveloping darkness. His voice, like rain, filled with confusion:

— Ohiko-chan? — he asked, wary of disrupting the fragile peace that hung between them, still unaware of the weight of her sorrow. He didn’t know what to do; his heart, brimming with love and concern, tightened in his chest.

Approaching her in bewilderment, he gently took her trembling hands in his, as if fearing he might break her, worn down by the intertwining of her anxieties and fears.

The only thing he could think to do in that tumultuous moment was to embrace her, holding her tightly as if he wished to protect her from all the storms raging outside their little world. His touch, like gentle whispers of a spring breeze, was so soft and warm that it seemed capable of melting even the coldest strings of sorrow that bound her heart. In that embrace, filled with genuine love and care, all the dark memories threatening to overwhelm Ohiko dissipated like gray clouds.

When he was near, those terrifying moments that made her tremble with fear and anxiety gradually faded away, evaporating into the void where forgotten sorrows resided.

From that day on, Nakajima, infused with the light that seemed to emanate from her very being, dedicated himself to helping his beloved, ensuring that she would never again suffer such terrifying dreams capable of tearing her from the embrace of reality and plunging her into an abyss.

She never thought that even a great detective, whose oratory skills would make even Mercury envious, could be deceived—yet Ohiko, like a brilliant actor wandering in the shadow of her questionable reputation, accomplished this to perfection. Her skilled performance left no traces, hiding her true feelings behind a mask of serenity and calm that she portrayed so masterfully.

But there was one seemingly insignificant detail, bitterly revealing all her secrets, that gave her pause—those inevitable bags under her eyes, appearing like clouds before a storm, a result of three restless days of sleeplessness. These unfortunate marks of deep, anguished nights, when her mind raced and spewed forth nightmares, would not allow her peace, whispering that life is full of dark alleys and not all secrets are worthy of discovery.

The nightmares had begun exactly three days ago, as if dark forces had suddenly descended upon her. It all started when her clever boyfriend, relying on his intuition and thoughtful reflections, solved another case and, for some unknown reason, drew his beloved into the mysterious depths of his misadventures. He shared every detail with enthusiasm, weaving her into a web of complex intrigues and enigmas, as though he had inadvertently led her behind the scenes of his world, where real passions sometimes intertwined with equally real fears.

Thus, in this grim dance within her mind, Ohiko realized that some secrets, like stubborn shadows, are meant to be buried deep. Each nightmare she experienced was not just a simple dream—it became a painful manifestation of her psyche, intertwined with unfulfilled hopes and fears of what could happen when light confronts darkness.

On yet another agonizing day, when the shadows of fatigue and irritation enveloped her, the sweet-toothed Ranpo, like a keen and sensitive detective, sensed that something was amiss in Ohiko's expression. Her eyes reflected exhaustion, much like a sky heavy with clouds, foreboding nothing good—a brewing storm and inclement weather. His heart, filled with good intentions, raced, and he decided to invite her to spend the night at his home, believing it might lift her spirits and change her mood.

— My sweet, I need you today; no refusals will be accepted, — he said with the kind of insistence that comes from youth and an inexhaustible well of inner resources, completely unaware of her turmoil. Internally, she resisted fiercely, thinking, Not this, anything but this!

Fear tightened around her heart like a painfully taut spring—within her lived the horror that if he ever discovered her secret, he would point out her weaknesses, the traumas she had stored away in the recesses of her memory like moldy pages. The dread that he would expose her essence and lay bare her tender wounds was unbearable. Like an unbloomed flower with a tight bud, she feared revealing the dark core of her soul, especially after the terror that had filled her sleepless nights with the corpse that had suddenly become the embodiment of her deepest fears.

t’s Night Again

Once more, an unpleasant fear gripped her body like a cold chain, slowly penetrating the depths of her mind, paralyzing her will and conjuring images filled with sinister figures. Every unseen rustle, every whisper of the wind seemed to harbor countless horrors, ready to break free like forgotten ghosts eagerly awaiting their turn.

But the most unsettling feeling was yet to come, creeping up on her like a shadow behind her back. Ohiko stood on the empty street, its silence ringing like a prolonged bell warning of an approaching storm. No soul was in sight—only a solitary breeze smoothing her hair, whispering dark secrets that constricted her chest.

On the gray asphalt, a pool of blood spread like a dark stain on a cleansed canvas, its scent hitting her nostrils with such force that her heart froze in the grip of terrible realization. This smell, heavy with metal and death, penetrated her senses, enveloping her in a feeling of hopelessness. And there, on the road nearby, lay a lifeless body—the embodiment of the very horror she had tried to expel from her life.

Its innards, like a sinister chalice, were turned inside out; the eyes seemed to have leaked from their sockets, like exhausted rivers of tears, while the tongue lay sprawled beside the body, forgotten in this gruesome spectacle. Upon witnessing this horrifying scene, the girl felt an involuntary urge to vomit—but this was only the beginning of the atmosphere that was building around her, like a storm before a fierce tempest.

And then, to her utter shock, the dead person suddenly rose and let out a piercing scream that awakened a blend of fear and terror within her, making her ears ring like candle holders struck by the heartbeat of mortal dread. This scream was not merely a sound; it was an outpouring of pain eager to break free from oblivion, like nameless souls longing for redemption.

Suddenly, the deceased turned to her with a mocking sneer, saying, "Coward! Are you afraid of an ordinary corpse? You will never earn the approval of the detective!" hese words were like cold arrows, piercing her soul and leaving behind bitter tears that unconsciously streamed down her cheeks.

In that moment, a surge of despair filled her, and she screamed, “No! No! NO! Stop!” Her voice echoed like thunder in the silent night, teeming with invisible demons. This cry, brimming with aggressive force and desperation, stirred anxious thoughts in Ranpo about the worst possible outcomes—he jumped out of bed, his heart pounding like a drumbeat, heralding an approaching storm filled with fears that had been growing in his soul and unease.

This scene, inspired by ominous shadows, would make anyone ponder the essence of human fear as an inseparable part of our existence. Drawn into this grim game of life, we often confront the reality that horror is commonplace and pervasive, stripping away the veil of our fragility. It then becomes clear that fear frequently transforms into the greatest obstacle on the path to self-discovery; the truth always lies hidden behind the mask of fear, and only those who dare to walk through the darkness can find the light that illuminates the way to their true selves.

But upon seeing the state his beloved was in, he immediately began to wake her, pulling away the shroud of the dark night.

— No, please, stop! — she cried out, like a soul escaping from the dark abyss of fear, still filled with distrust.

— Darling, I’m here, shh... — the brunette whispered softly, holding her close like a comforting sun that chases away the storm. His words were like a gentle breeze wrapping around her, trying to calm the raging tempest within her soul.

— I’m afraid, I… I’m afraid of him, and you’ll laugh at me and leave me now,— she replied, sobbing and still caught in a nervous hysteria, each tear rolling down her cheeks akin to shards of broken glass, reflecting her inner fears.

— Who told you such nonsense? I won’t leave you, and I certainly won’t laugh at you,— he said with a hint of reproach.— Come here, quickly.

In his embrace, like a cozy nest, she felt so warm and safe that, over time, her fear nearly evaporated, and exhausted from her anxieties, she quickly fell asleep. Ranpo, gazing at her sleeping face, pondered how, amidst the chaos of life, there are moments when the deepest fears can be healed by a single touch of love.

He vowed to himself that he would never again share the details of his sorrowful legacies with Ohiko—stories of murders and malicious deeds that left indelible marks on the soul. There should be no place for such horrors in his beloved's life, and this realization felt like the morning light breaking through a thick veil of darkness.

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multi-fandom-imagine · 2 years ago

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❛ do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are? ❜ || Poe Dameron ||

A/n: I said I was gonna write for Poe, so here it is.

It was a chance to breath, a chance to relax for once as your head rested against Poe’s shoulder. His hand ran his thumb over the back of your hand. Your eyes closed for a moment though it was Poe’s words that managed to catch you off guard.

“Do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are.”

You blinked then turned your attention to the pilot, his gaze wasn’t on you, it was turned up to the moon, the blinking stars.

“I.” Swallowing, your cheeks get warm, your heart hammering in your chest. “What did you say?”

Poe glanced away from the night sky as he looked at you with that playful smile he always gave you, that smile that made you fall in love with him.

Chuckling, he placed his head against yours as he gave your hand a soft squeeze. “Do you think the moon is jealous of how pretty you are?!”

“Poe?” Adverting your gaze you shook your head burying your face into his chest as he wove his arms around your waist kissing your head. “No I don’t think the moon is jealous of me.”

Scoffing, Poe cupped your chin as he then ran his fingers over your lip. “Well I happen to disagree…because my love…you are far more beautiful than the moon, the stars and anything in this Galaxy.”

Cheeks still burning, you face him a soft smile pressing your lips against his for a gentle kiss.

“I love you Poe.”

Retuning the kiss, his thumb glided across your cheek. “I love you too, more than anything.”

Grinning you gave him a teasing smile as you pinched his cheek. “More than the moon and stars?”

“More than the moon and the stars and every planet in this Galaxy.”

#drabbles #drabble #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x y/n #Star Wars #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars x y/n

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eyelessfaces · 7 months ago

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I'd like to request for Poevember: sliding hands under their clothes ❤

Poe's eyes flutter half open, stirring awake when he hears faint footsteps in the room. Right before he can speak, you're already murmuring an apology, your voice low and rough from exhaustion, the shadow of your figure moving through your dark shared room.

“Don’t worry,” he mumbles sleepily, extending a hand toward you. “Come here”

You don't hesitate, your body on autopilot as the bed dips under your weight when you move closer, draping yourself over Poe in a quiet sigh. He presses his face into the crook of your neck when he cups the back of your head, his breath warm, the prickle of the stubble gently chafing against your skin.

His hand finds its way to your back, moving in slow, gentle back and forth movements, and without thinking, his fingers slip beneath the hem of your shirt, rubbing over your bare skin, his hands somehow always warm, no matter the situation.

“How was your mission?” he asks in a drowsy mumble.

“Boring. Not a lot of action, just observing. You would have hated it” He huffs out a small laugh, his hand worming its way higher up your back. “Still got me exhausted though”

You lift yourself up slightly, enough to be able to take a glance at him. He’s all disheveled, his face heavy with sleep. “Sorry for waking you up. I know you gotta wake up early tomorrow”

He gives you a tired smile. “That’s fine. I’m happy I could catch you before I leave” he pulls your face close to his, his lips gently brushing against your forehead. “I’m gonna miss you.”

His eyes close when you gently brush his hair back, his arms wrapping around your waist. “I’m gonna miss you too.”

He hums softly, the sound vibrating against your neck when he buries his face here.

You lay in a comfortable silence, Poe’s hands still running idly against your back.

He feels you slowly begin to relax over him, your muscles easing under your touch, your breath growing ticker, until you give up on consciousness and slide into something much more comfortable here with him.

—

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

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

@jakecockley @cocodiem @spxctorsslxt @friedwings @luxisluxurious

@stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96 @unear7hly

@pigeonmama @c-losur3 @klillaah @Spicydonut25

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fic #poe dameron x you #poe dameron x y/n #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron fluff #star wars #oscar isaac #poe dameron drabble #poe dameron drabbles

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wormdevourer · 8 months ago

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I’ve seen sigma and I love him already <3

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castiwls · 1 year ago

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so high school - p.d

Paring; poe x reader

Prompt;'you know how to ball, i know Aristotle

Requested; anon

Notes;this song screams poe dameron omg

Masterlist | Taylor Swift masterlist

The sound of music pulsed through the small bar. The small room was packed tight full of any and everyone who had their weekend free from the war, all happily conversing over the music.

A hand landed on your thigh causing you to look over at the man beside you. Poe grinned pushing another drink your way before taking a sip of his own. “Relax.” He nodded at the drink. “It’s your day off, enjoy!”

Looking down to the drink you inspected it for a moment before taking a small sip. The alcohol burned slightly as you took another drink. It had been so long since you’d even as much smelled alcohol that you felt the effect almost immediately.

The burn lingered in your throat for a moment before subsiding, allowing you to take another drink. Poe’s arm came to rest around your shoulder as he tucked you into his side. He continued his conversation with another pilot sparing you a quick glance.

Soon enough your drink was empty and you were beginning to feel considerably more relaxed as you rested against his side. “Come on. I wanna show you something.” Poe’s arm slipped from your shoulder as he grabbed your hand.

You waved a quick goodbye to the people at the table before he began guiding you towards the door. You stumbled slightly feeling the room tilt as you drew closer to the door. The night air was cool as you stepped outside into the small clearing.

“Where are we going?” You looked up slowly tracing his face with your eyes. You couldn’t help but think that Poe was maybe one of the most attractive people you had met. It was no surprise he’d quickly begun the poster boy for the Resistance with his dark hair and charming smile.

“You’ll see.” He teased squeezing your hand slightly. Before joining the Resistance you’d done a small stint in the New Republic’s senate. Leia had almost immediately taken a liking to you and had taken you under her wing, something which had ended with you following her to the resistance a few years later.

You’d quickly begun working with her in command and had found that you not only enjoyed the thrill of war but also the more diplomatic side. She’d quickly pushed you into any and all negotiations between the Resistance and other planets and that had been how you’d first crossed paths with Poe Dameron.

It hadn’t taken long for him to steal your heart and for you to steal his.

“Okay, close your eyes.” He paused turning to face you. You tilted your head rasing an eyebrow. “Why?”

“Because it’s a surprise.”

“I don’t like surprises, you know that.” You crossed your arms over your chest as he rolled his eyes waving a hand at you. “Yeah well you're gonna like this one, I promise.” You stared at him for a moment before letting out a breath and closing your eyes.

Poe grinned before reaching for your hand. “Keep ahold of my hand alright.”

Before you could respond he began walking again, slower this time as you followed him blindly. As you waked you raked your mind for anything this surprise could be.

“Okay. Open your eyes.” His voice was behind you now. Slowly you opened your eyes. Taking in your surroundings a small gasp left your lips. “How did you find this place?” You turned your head to face him, your eyes wide in wonder.

He smiled down at you, his eyes full of adoration as he wrapped an arm around your waist pressing a kiss to the side of your head.

“I was doing a flyover a few days ago and noticed it.” He rested his head on top of yours. The area around you was like nothing you’d seen before. A small stream ran through the area as small firefly bugs quietly buzzed, creating small specs of light. The grass seemed greener somehow and was covered in all types of flowers.

“It’s beautiful,” You said quietly watching the small bugs as they flew around.

Poe’s grin only grew wider as you continued to take in the area. Moments like this made all the stress of war seem slightly more worth it. He’d finally found the girl of his dreams and he’d been on cloud nine ever since.

Seeing you so relaxed as you stood in his arms left him feeling content for the first time in a while. Turning in his arms you pressed a quick kiss to his lips. “Thank you.”

He smiled before leaning down and connecting your lips again.

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