#buckyisdisabled

[userpoe]

Star Wars: The Force Awakens (2015) Moon Knight (2022)

[tfa-archived]

“I have the feeling that you’re trying not to kiss me and I give you permission to just do it.” + poe 🥺

gender neutral reader; got a little more hurt/comfort than I was really aiming for but hey. happy endings. making out. wall kisses. I think that balances it out nicely.

“You are kriffin' insufferable, has anyone ever told you that?”

Poe can think of at least a dozen people offhand, but they're insignificant at the moment, when you've backed him up against a wall, jabbing your finger into his chest as you continue going off on him; anger stoked solely for each time he comes back from a mission where he was a little more reckless with his life. 

You're still gesticulating wildly, but Poe can see when the switch flips in your head, when all the frustration you keep for him fades from an all-consuming fire fueled by fear, to the low-level exasperation that you always have towards him.

He can also see the exact moment you realize you've essentially shoved him against a wall, caging him in with your own body: your gaze darkens, breath coming out shallower and more quickly - not that he's doing much better.

“I came back,” Poe whispers softly, fingers catching at your hip to pull you closer, now that you've run out of words. “I always come back.”

You make a plaintive noise low in your throat. “I know. I know you do. But you could…be a little more careful.”

“I don't do anything I don't think I'll survive,” Poe says. He can't promise to be more careful, not with your respective lines of work, but he can offer you that modicum of truth. Everything he does, he's confident will work out in his favor. 

And he can see the argument that's rising up within you at that, can already hear you pointing out all the times he's gotten in over his head because of his certainty things will work in his favor - 

But at the last minute, it dissipates and your shoulders sag a little. You shift closer to him, a new kind of heat in your eyes that Poe vastly prefers, brought on by your closeness and the adrenaline. 

“Okay,” you whisper, conceding, while your eyes dart between his mouth and his eyes and back down again, like now that you're no longer distracted by worry you're distracted by him. 

It never fails to thrill him, the way he has that effect on you. Can't help the grin that rises up across his face, lighting up his eyes and crinkling them at the corners. “I have the feeling that you're trying not to kiss me, and I give you permission to just do it.”

You level him with a look over his faux innocent tone, severe enough that Poe thinks he's misjudged the time to joke but then it evaporates as you grip him by the collar and haul him down to greedily press your lips against his. 

Poe's arms snake around your waist, drawing you even closer and maker if that isn't his favorite part about kissing you after a mission: because despite his heart fluttering, warmth suffusing every one of his veins and begging for release, this is the moment when his body finally knows it's safe, that he can relax and not be on alert.

It's the moment he knows he's finally home. 

[tfa-archived]

"take off your clothes" for uuhh... poe again. maybe a reader one? smdnnsj

gender neutral reader; overdramatic couple shenanigans, strip [poker], mildly suggestive dialogue I guess, implied spice towards the end.

“I'm just saying, you don't have to do this,“ Poe said imploringly, his dark eyes impossibly soft and weakening your resolve marginally.

You shook your head. "Yes I do."

"You really don't. We can work something else out," Poe tried again and it's admirable, really, how he just doesn't know when to quit.

You're gonna make him learn though. “Nope. You're not talking your way out of this one, Dameron. I won fair and square: take off your clothes."

Poe groaned and dropped back against the edge of his mattress. "It's not fair, you've barely lost anything."

It was true: you'd gotten extremely lucky with your hand this round, and Poe had gotten an extraordinarily lousy round. The only thing he had left, besides his underwear, was his shirt, which he had now just lost with his final play.

"If you just wanted me out of my clothes hotshot, you just had to ask," you remind him before you nudge him with your foot. "Come on, pop your shirt off."

"Want me to take my time with it?" Poe shot back, raising an eyebrow at you as he unbuttoned his shirt.

You grinned. "I just figured I'd take my time with you when you're done."

His shirt is off in record time after that, and you're laughing as you settle into his lap, hauling him in for a searing kiss.

[tfa-archived]

"i just wanted to say thank you for protecting me." reader and either Jake or Marc <3

gender-neutral reader, references to a (failed) mugging (mack u really gave me an opportunity to indulge the plot bunny I've had since April), marc/reader but w references to jake/reader & steven/reader for u, my warm beverage agenda strikes again. ~500 words.

Steven insists on bringing you back to their apartment — flat, Marc corrects himself before Steven can — after they'd rescued you from a pair of would-be muggers on your way home from the coffee shop.

Which is more than fine with Marc, who doesn't want to take his eyes off you, to reassure himself that you're fine, that they hadn't hurt you. It could have been so much worse: it could have been more than a couple of kids that were easy to scare off just by arriving; it could have been leftover reserves from Harrow's cult or any other number of Khonshu's enemies.

They could've been too late.

They weren't though, which Steven is quick to remind him as Jake holds you until you fall asleep that night, relishing in the rise and fall of your chest, the tiny puffs of air you breathe against his throat as you burrow as close to him as possible.

When Marc wakes up the next morning, however, the bed beside him is empty. He's up in an instant, heart hammering a tattoo against his ribcage, and your name on the tip of his tongue —

But then you pad around the bookcase that obscures his sight of the kitchen, wearing a pair of boxers and one of his shirts, two steaming mugs in your hand. Noticing his look of distress, you wince and hold one of the cups up higher than the other, “Sorry, didn't mean to scare you.”

"You -” he stops himself, seeing no point in lying and partially because he's still working to get air back into his lungs. Marc crosses the room in a few east strides, carefully extricates the mugs from your hands to sit on one of little tables Steven has set up to carry books, and pulls you in for a hug, kisses the top of your head - "it's alright. I coulda brought you some coffee.”

“No, I know, I just…” you falter for a minute, pulling back just enough that you can look at him - really look at him, his sleep tousled hair, his dark soft eyes, and inviting mouth - and your heart skips a beat, it really does. “I just wanted to thank you for saving me last night.”

"That's our job,” Marc says. "No need to thank us.”

Your eyes crinkle a little bit, sparking with mischief. “No?”

"Nah.”

"Not even if the thank you came in the form of a kiss?”

He wavers, then smiles just a tiny bit, which is a rare sight but becoming a little more frequent since they met you. “I mean, I'm not gonna say no to that but I mean it. You're ours to protect and we always will.”

You melt against him at that, expression softening too. “You're mine too,” you say as you draw him in to kiss him slowly and it's like coming back to life, kissing you, loving you, saving you.

And Marc knows what that feels like all too well.

[tfa-archived]

soft kisses whilst cuddling in bed for the flyboy 🥺

gender neutral reader, some uh. some slight making out my hand slipped, okay?

This was your favorite place to be, out of the entire fucking galaxy — and you'd seen many of its vibrant corners, stepped into its most vivid shadows. You've gone to more planets than you can count, sped through hyperspace so much that the initial lurch of a ship no longer disorients you, but none of that can even remotely compare to lying in bed beside Poe Dameron.

The room temperature is cool, colder than the rest of the base because it helps you both sleep and it makes your shared comforter all that much more cozy. You'd kicked your trousers off somewhere down towards the foot of the bed ages ago, and Poe had tossed aside his shirt around the same time, leaving him in just his gray sweatpants.

You're curled up against his side, his arm under and around you, fingertips gliding up and down your arm absentmindedly as you draw circles against his chest, breathing him in, one of your legs draped over his and you think that nothing can possibly compare to this: no supernova, no nebula, no sunrise, could ever make your breath stall in your chest quite like it does when you tip your head back to look up at Poe to quietly observe his profile as he watches the ceiling: the stubbled curve of his jaw, the softness of his lips, the wrinkles gathered at the corners of his eyes.

He'd been infodumping about ships a moment ago when he'd suddenly fallen quiet with the kind of sigh that told you he was all right but words were becoming too much of an effort as tired as he was. Or maybe even from how happy he was, given that he catches you looking at him and smiles softly at you.

His hand stills against your skin and abruptly he shifts so that he's lying on his side: your leg jams between his and a heavier breath falls from his lips as his dark eyes slide down your face to your lips and back up again, a question in his gaze that he starts to open his mouth to verbalize, but you beat him to it, leaning in to kiss him.

His arm wraps around your body, skimming up your spine to hold you firmly in place against him when you tease open his lips to press your tongue into his mouth, drawing a low noise from the back of his throat that makes your stomach flip.

Maker, you adore all the lovely noises he makes. You don't think you'll ever get tired of it.

You don't think Poe ever will either, not when you pull back to spare some attention to his neck, ghosting soft kisses along his skin, making him gasp and his grip on you grow tighter.

You've reached the junction of his neck and his shoulder when he whispers sleepily, "Love you," into the space between you.

You glance up at him, but find his eyes are shut, eyelashes fluttering slightly.

“Love you too,” you reply, touched that out of all the things that could have slipped out at this moment, it is a reminder of how much he loves you.

Poe blinks down at you, a crease appearing between his eyebrows. "You good?”

“Yeah,” you whisper, cupping his face with your hand and sweeping your thumb across his cheekbone. “I got you.”

The dorky grin you get in return is something you're gonna treasure for the rest of your life, you think. Especially since he leans back in, to kiss you softly a second time, and you can feel his smile against your own.

[tfa-archived]

"there it is, there’s that smile!" with poe pls 🥺

gender-neutral reader, poe & the reader are autistic, is it hurt/comfort really when his strategy is to pester you until you smile?

You were doing your best attempt to wrap yourself up in your comforter when Poe plopped down into bed beside you, content even though you were hogging all the blankets and leaving him to fend for himself against the chill of the room. 

It did not deter him in the slightest from talking animatedly about his special interests, gesticulating wildly with his hands in a way you've always found endearing. 

And despite how much of a crappy mood you'd been in earlier when you'd crawled into bed earlier, you feel your resolve to stay irritable begin to crack over the sparkle in Poe's eyes as he gets himself worked up on flight strategies from a bygone era, purposefully goading you here and there with jabs at long standing friendly arguments the two of you share, up and until —

“Oh that's banthashit, Dameron, and you know it!” 

Poe isn't able to suppress his delighted grin as he tips his head towards you as you finally throw your comforter down and start defending the T-47 model (that he still, privately, thinks flies like a board of wood), your voice rising with every few minutes from the passion of your argument.

You pause to catch your breath and it's then you finally notice the giddiness on Poe's face, and you can't help but laugh a puzzled, "What?” at him. 

“There it is,” Is the response you get which is just real helpful, honestly, Dameron. 

“There what is?”

Poe leans in, presses his mouth against yours to kiss you once sweetly. When he pulls away, he whispers fondly, "There's that smile I love so much.”

Your heart seizes a little, over the look of adoration on his face, over his words, but you thump him slightly on the shoulder anyway as you choke out, "You devious…blurrg.”

“Cheered you up though, didn't it?”

"By being annoying.”

“Annoyingly charming.”

You roll your eyes up at the ceiling. "You're a maker damned menace.”

Poe kisses your cheek and says, entirely meaning it, "Your maker damned menace.”

Not that you'd have it any other way.

[tfa-archived]

listen I am SOOO annoyed bc poe would be SOOO smug abt how much we're into him >:((((( he'd be all "haha u like me ;)))" and I'm like STFU [blushing furiously]

As if he couldn't get even more infuriating, ugh. He'd start noticing the subtle glances you send his way, smiling a little to himself when he puts two and two together. and ohhhh, his heart absolutely slams against his chest and takes off upward for the stars at a speed unlike anything besides what he can pull off in Black One, because you like him and it makes him want to pump his fist victoriously in the air, but also you like him and it's single handedly the best thing he's ever heard because maybe y'all use to bicker a lot but now he can test the waters and start dropping more suggestive lines into your banter, stomach flipping every time you glance down at his (fucking irritatingly pink and thoroughly distracting) lips.

And then, and THEN, he would have the nerve. the gall. the audacity, to slip into your personal space and give you a lopsided grin one day after you say something that confirms your feelings for him verbally for the first time, not even hiding the way his eyes fall to your mouth for a second before flicking his gaze back up and his gaze is a little more pleased when he tucks his hair behind your ear and says, “you like me” softly like it's a revelation, like he can't quite believe his luck and then his grin becomes dorkier and more smug and he tickles against your waist to make you laugh and says a little more teasingly, "you like me" because how many times have you exasperatedly groaned that you hate him whenever he does something...well, Poe.

And well if you grab him by the collar and pull him down to kiss him to shut him up, then it's entirely on him.

[tfa-archived]

yknow the only relief I get when thinking abt how smug poe would be is knowing the Two things that could get him to shut up (affectionate) (and I REALIZE we've been over this)

call him pretty boy

push him against the wall

and just like that the tables turn

Yes, we have been over this but lord have mercy I'm always up to talk about it again because sweet christmas, the visual of this.

He's smug and teasing, crowding you in just so because he can't help but be drawn into your orbit for one, and two because he loves the way your breath catches just slightly when he leans further in.

So imagine his face when the tables turn. Freezing up in surprise, mouth going slack and his eyes going wide as butterflies erupt in his belly because he definitely didn't have much of a plan beyond maybe kissing you before this point, but this? Definitely not part of the strategy in his head.

The look in your eyes, the mischievousness on your face as you realize just how into you calling him pretty boy he is, was also solidly not how Poe expected this to go.

But he's sure as hell not complaining, now that he's recovered enough wits about him to start breathing again, heat spreading up from his gut up to his chest and face. And it only gets worse when you smirk and push gently on his chest, guiding him until his back is pressed up against a wall and he thinks maybe, just maybe, he has actually died or something and this is heaven -

Then you ruck up his shirt so you can slide your hand under it, splaying your palm against his tummy as you use the other one to tug him down and kiss him deeply and Poe decides that no, this is heaven.

And Poe has never been so grateful for one of his half-cocked plans before, because he loves how much you revel in knowing all the things that make him weak in the knees.