Pairing: Poe Dameron x fem!Reader, modern!AU (part of the No More Wasted Time universe)
Word Count: 1.5k (ish)
Rating: Teen and up (BLOG IS 18+, THOUGH, MINORS DNI)
Excerpt:“I just feel terrible, Poe,” you say with shuddered breaths. “I haven’t been this sick in so long and all I want… sniff… is… is…”“Is for someone to take care of you,” he finishes for you, planting a kiss on your sweaty head. You nod into his chest and let him hold you a little while longer while the tears subside. Your eyes grow heavy again and you sway a bit on your feet.
Warnings: Brief descriptions of reader being sick, fluff, EMOTIONS
Summary: When you get sick, Poe immediately jumps into action taking care of you.
A/N: Found a prompt from this wonderful prompt list and thought it was time for a certain moment to be shared between these two. The prompt was Damn, you’re burning up. Thank you, as always, for @creatively-analytical for giving this a look over and beta reading for me, I LOVE YOU.
Cursing every god you could think of, you reach up to flush the toilet you’d been hugging for the last 10 minutes. The early morning light seeps through the gossamer curtains over the small bathroom window, a breeze causing them to sway along the sill. You lean against the wall and tip your head back, sweat sliding down your neck and body shaking. Damn co-workers, coming to work sick and spreading it around…
You start to drowse, your stomach calm enough now to actually relax. The breeze dries the sweat from your body and your breathing begins to even out when…
Knock knock knock
The sudden rapping on your door startles you and you jerk awake, stomach once again beginning to roll with the movement. You shakily stand, opening the bathroom door and stumbling to the front door before peeking through the spy hole.
“Poe?” Your voice is haggard, throat raw from being sick.
Pairing: Poe Dameron x fem!Reader, modern!AU (part of the No More Wasted Time universe)
Word Count: 1.5k (ish)
Rating: Teen and up (BLOG IS 18+, THOUGH, MINORS DNI)
Excerpt:“I just feel terrible, Poe,” you say with shuddered breaths. “I haven’t been this sick in so long and all I want… sniff… is… is…”“Is for someone to take care of you,” he finishes for you, planting a kiss on your sweaty head. You nod into his chest and let him hold you a little while longer while the tears subside. Your eyes grow heavy again and you sway a bit on your feet.
Warnings: Brief descriptions of reader being sick, fluff, EMOTIONS
Summary: When you get sick, Poe immediately jumps into action taking care of you.
A/N: Found a prompt from this wonderful prompt list and thought it was time for a certain moment to be shared between these two. The prompt was Damn, you’re burning up. Thank you, as always, for @creatively-analytical for giving this a look over and beta reading for me, I LOVE YOU.
Cursing every god you could think of, you reach up to flush the toilet you’d been hugging for the last 10 minutes. The early morning light seeps through the gossamer curtains over the small bathroom window, a breeze causing them to sway along the sill. You lean against the wall and tip your head back, sweat sliding down your neck and body shaking. Damn co-workers, coming to work sick and spreading it around…
You start to drowse, your stomach calm enough now to actually relax. The breeze dries the sweat from your body and your breathing begins to even out when…
Knock knock knock
The sudden rapping on your door startles you and you jerk awake, stomach once again beginning to roll with the movement. You shakily stand, opening the bathroom door and stumbling to the front door before peeking through the spy hole.
“Poe?” Your voice is haggard, throat raw from being sick.
“Baby? Everything okay?”
“Poe I’m so sick, you should go. I don’t want to give you this.”
“Hey let me in, you sound terrible.”
You step back from the door, unlocking it and opening it just an inch to peek through at him. Red basketball shorts cover his legs, a white hoodie over top, curls unruly and eyes suddenly filled with worry. “I feel terrible, you definitely don’t want what I have.”
He gently pushes against the door and you give in. The urge to keep him from getting this flu is overpowered by the desperate need to be held, to be taken care of. He steps in and closes the door behind him and takes you in.
Your hair is plastered to your face and neck and you’re shivering now. You had torn off your layers once the fever had kicked in, too hot to be covered up, but now that the sweat was evaporating from your skin it was suddenly freezing. Without meaning to, you wrap your arms around your body and start to sniffle. Tears line your eyes.
“Baby, baby what’s up?” Poe asks gently, taking off his hoodie and pulling it over your head. You push your arms into the sleeves, the hem brushing your thighs and completely covering your sleep shorts. More tears start to flow as he pulls you into a hug.
“I just feel terrible, Poe,” you say with shuddered breaths. “I haven’t been this sick in so long and all I want… sniff… is… is…”
“Is for someone to take care of you,” he finishes for you, planting a kiss on your sweaty head. You nod into his chest and let him hold you a little while longer while the tears subside. Your eyes grow heavy again and you sway a bit on your feet.
“Oookay, let’s get you into bed.” Without warning, Poe sweeps you up into his arms and walks you back into your room, laying you gently on the bed. He reaches up to sweep the hair from your face. “Damn, you’re burning up. Have you taken anything?”
You shake your head no, burrowing into the pillows and blankets. “Been having a hard time keeping things down.”
“I’m going to the store to get you some stuff. Stay here, I’ll be right back.”
“Not really a lot of places I can go…” You mumble, eyes closed.
A soft chuckle comes from next to you. Poe kisses your forehead before saying, “That’s my girl.”
You’re asleep before he leaves.
- - - - - -
When you wake up, Poe is sitting next to you on the bed. Glasses are perched on his nose and he has a book in his hand. You watch him read, his eyebrows slightly furrowed and a muscle in his jaw flutters.
“You’re cute when you read.”
His eyes flick to you over his glasses, a small smile lifting the corners of his lips. “There she is. How are you feeling?”
“I’m alright, I think…” you start, rolling onto your back. You immediately regret the movement as your stomach churns. “Ope, not alright.”
You bolt up, aiming for the bathroom. You make it to the toilet but aren’t able to shut the door before retching, acid burning its way up your throat. You heave again. You feel a hand begin gently rubbing your back, Poe’s presence a warming anchor.
“I don’t want you seeing this, Poe,” you manage to pant before retching again.
“Shhh, it’s okay.” He reassures you, hand never stopping its calming circles. “I’ve seen worse.” He begins humming a familiar song to comfort you as coughs wrack through your body. A simple tune, bringing memories of dingy karaoke bars and hushed patio conversations…
I feel wonderful because I see the love light in your eyes
Then the wonder of it all is that you just don’t realize
How much I love you…
After a minute you feel confident that this episode is over and flush the toilet. Poe leaves for a moment before returning with a cool, damp washcloth. He wipes your forehead before laying it across the back of your neck.
“Sprite or ginger ale?” He asks.
“Ginger ale.” Your eyes close again as your body vibrates.
“I’m on it.”
You hear him shuffle to the small kitchen. He opens the freezer, ice clanking into a glass. The fizz of a bottle opening reaches your ears. He pours the soda into the glass and comes back to you, sitting on the floor beside you.
“Try and drink just a little bit.”
You open your eyes and reach for the glass. A silly straw sticks out from the top and he gives you a little wink. A tired smile sneaks its way across your face before you take a small sip, savoring the cool of the soda down your raw throat and handing the glass back to him.
“I’m so sorry you had to see that.” You tell him, head falling back against the wall. The bubbles in your stomach seem to be working, calming the raging sea to something more manageable.
“Hey, this is what I’m here for,” he says, adjusting the washcloth on your neck. “What else do you need?”
“Help me back to bed?” you ask. He stands, offering his hand and you take it before standing on fawn-like legs. He puts his other arm around your waist and supports your tentative steps back to your bed. Climbing in, he covers you back up and takes the washcloth.
“I’m gonna put your soda on your nightstand and go get you some water. We’re gonna try to take some medicine before you fall back asleep, okay?”
Your stomach lurches again, but doesn’t threaten to do anything else as he goes back to the kitchen to grab a grocery bag. He brings the entire bag back, pulling out various snacks and bottles and lining them up on your nightstand.
“Poe, what is all this?”
He looks at you sheepishly. “Well, I know what works for me when I’m sick but I don’t know what works for you so I had to guess.” There’s Gatorade and Pedialtye, rice cakes and saltines, flu medicine and anti-nauseas; the bar of chocolate catches your eye and makes you laugh.
“Chocolate?”
“That’s for when you feel better.” He grins.
A warm feeling blossoms in your chest, different from the fever raging in your body. Watching him fuss over you, running back and forth to freshen your washcloth or refill the ginger ale you’re slowly drinking, you realize that this man would really do anything for you.
“Poe,” you whisper as he turns to go back to the kitchen to heat up some soup for you.
“Hmm?” He turns to face you, hovering in the doorway separating your room from the living room beyond.
Your voice catches in your throat, heart swelling in your chest and making words difficult. You take a breath…
“I love you.”
He looks at you, frozen in place. After a heartbeat, he closes the space between you in three strides and drops to his knees next to your bed. Joy radiates from him.
“Say it again.”
You take another breath, throat tight with emotion. “I love you.”
He surges up and kisses you, his hand tenderly cupping your jaw. He pulls away and kisses your forehead. Resting his head against yours he responds, “I love you, too.”
With your emotions already high from sickness, the joy filling your chest begins to escape as tears. You laugh, lifting your hands to rest on the sides of his face. “You’re definitely going to get sick now.”
“Absolutely worth it,” he replies, turning his head to kiss the inside of your wrist. He looks back at you and smiles, a smile so blinding the rest of the world becomes shadowed and inconsequential.
You run your thumbs along his cheekbones. “Say it again.” You repeat back to him.
