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PROMPT POST #1 - CLOSED

This post is closed to new prompts!

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+ All prompts should focus on TFA characters. You can't post OT or PT-only prompts.
+ One prompt per comment please.
+ You can request both kink and non-kink content
+ Crossovers, characters from the other media are allowed, but must relate to the 2015 movie in some way.
+ All prompt comments should begin with a pairing tag (eg Rey/Finn) or Gen for no pairing.
+ Use 'Any' when prompting for any pairing at all (eg Kylo/Any or Any/Any)
+ Anyone, everyone, no one? Use "Other." (e.g. Poe/Other)
+ Warn for common triggers, please
+ NO PROMPTS FEATURING CHARACTERS UNDER 18 IN SEXUAL SITUATIONS.

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AAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!! THIS GIVES ME LIFE!!!! I love this so much.

Not OP but this is perfect.

Damn, this is good.

Oh, wow, this is absolutely beautiful, anon. I'm so glad you wrote it.

Yes. I don't know why I haven't read anything like this yet.

This is my first stormpilot! I hope you like!

“Hey, Poe, BB-8 said you wanted to…” Finn stopped dead in his tracks. “See… me…”

He knew Poe cared deeply about his X-wing (and any X-wing that became his X-wing after he’d crashed the last X-wing). He knew that, despite the capable tech staff, Poe liked to be hands-on. He… well he definitely hadn’t pictured this.

Poe was elbow-deep in engine, flushed from the heat, glistening with his efforts, little streaks of grease coating up his biceps, all across his tank top. A little smudge of grease on his cheek. And he was humming: a glorious, resonant sound tingling deep within his chest. Finn found his breath shallow, and was it warmer than usual outside today? And where did all the other people go? Maybe they were at the beach. Surely there was a beach somewhere.

Just then, Poe swiped a hand across his brow, wiping away some sweat, and locked eyes with Finn. And then he smiled, like, a smile that could power a new Starkiller base. And Finn thought the day was definitely warm. Unseasonably so. He found himself walking forward, one foot in front of the other, until he stood within inches of Poe, Poe’s arm crooked and resting on his X-wing, above Finn’s head.

“Hey roomie,” Poe said. Finn was still getting used to the term. He’d barracked with his squadron, of course. But the way Poe said it reminded Finn of some of the things they’d gotten up to at night. Things he hadn’t exactly done in a roomful of Troopers— especially ones that didn’t like him that much.

“I’m just about done out here. What’s up?” Poe clapped a hand on Finn’s shoulder, and left it there. Finn could feel Poe’s thumb caress his collarbone, under his shirt. He still didn’t know if Poe kept doing stuff like this consciously or not. He seemed to like to casually touch him a lot. And now, seeing the sweat and grease coating his face and— chest, his shirt was very greasy. Finn swallowed.

Poe noticed Finn’s eyes on his tank top. “Haha, you’re right! Damn I got this dirty again!” And he stripped it off his tan torso, damp with sweat, his muscles toned. Finn quickly looked Poe in the eye.

That was a big mistake.

“I— want you,” Finn blurted out. Poe’s eyes went wide, and he smiled. “Right here?” Poe asked, moving closer to Finn’s beautiful face, his gorgeous lips. “Right now?” Poe asked, fluttering his eyelashes a little. Finn was overcome. He just growled and grabbed Poe, lifting him off the ground, wrapping Poe’s legs around him, pushing them back so Poe’s back was pressed against the hull of his X-wing, right against the engines. And then Poe gasped. A glorious, wanton sound. And Finn had to make that sound happen again. Finn kissed Poe deeply, pressing his growing erection into Poe. And Poe pressed right back, leaning into the kiss. Finn shifted his hips, and Poe moaned at the friction, grabbing Finn’s ass, pulling him closer.

“You need to lose those pants. And we need some lube,” Finn breathed. Poe let his legs drop down, and quickly scurried up to his cockpit.

“Lube!” Poe called enthusiastically, holding the bottle aloft.

“Shhh! Poe, oh my god, I can’t believe we’re doing this here!” Finn hissed at Poe as he rejoined Finn on the ground. Then Poe dropped his pants and briefs, revealing his thick, tan cock.

“I mean, I can’t believe I’m doing you here,” Finn amended, raising an eyebrow, quite dashing. Poe groaned in half-teasing, half-pleasure, as he stepped towards Finn. He threw himself back against the hull, ready to be ravaged by the strong man.

“Take me,” Poe said, his gaze searing into Finn, making him even harder. It wasn’t long before Finn had worked him slowly open, lounging back against the X-Wing.

“I’m ready, buddy,” Poe breathed, “Please.” Finn kissed him quickly on the lips, and then slowly pressed his hard cock against Poe.

“You sure?” Finn asked, trying to play it cool. “Because I don’t want to just take you, unless you’re sure you’re ready—“ Poe grabbed Finn’s beautiful ass and pulled him into him with a shuddering gasp. Finn let out a small groan, then held Poe steady. Poe threw his arms back over the hull, and Finn grabbed his muscular ass and began thrusting, slowly, angling himself against Poe’s prostate. He was so focused, trying not to go too hard, oh god he wanted to go so hard, the tightness, the feeling was incredible, but he didn’t want to hurt Poe— when he heard Poe. Humming again. He could feel the sound as though it were in his own body, resonating through Poe’s chest and straight into his. He was definitely taking this okay.

Finn looked Poe straight in the eyes. And thrust hard, deep. The hum turned into a moan, and then a laugh, an amazing, world-changing laugh. Finn kept thrusting, grabbing against Poe’s ass, feeling Poe’s cock between them. He looked up at Poe: pushed upward with every thrust, his grease-streaked arms splayed up, open, biting his lip. Moaning, loudly.

Finn managed to duck his head forward and plant a kiss on Poe’s nose. Poe looked at him, a grin spreading across his face. He kissed Finn’s ear, licking at it, his breath shaking as Finn thrust into him. “You’re amazing,” Poe breathed in his ear. Finn could feel Poe’s cock slick with precum, still hard and pressed between them. Finn glanced down at it.

“I don’t know if I can—. I’m holding you up,” Finn told him. Poe groaned with arousal: Finn was holding him feet off the ground, pressing him against the X-wing for support. Poe looked into Finn’s eyes.

“I don’t think I’ll need it,” he said, his voice breathy. “Not like this.” And Finn came right there, thrusting hard into Poe, at just the thought of him getting off like this, without being touched, because of him. He yelled a little as he came, then whispered “Poe,” and it set Poe over the edge, set him pressing his torso hard against Finn’s, catching his mouth in a kiss, growling into Finn’s mouth as he came.

Finn opened his eyes to Poe, his tan skin even sweatier, and he realized he must be streaked with grease now, too. And cum. Finn slowly, carefully pulled out of Poe, setting him back on his feet. They both found their pants and leaned against the S-foils, catching their breath.

“I’m just glad everyone decided to go to the beach today,” Finn said, pulling on his shirt. Poe’s eyebrows knotted together.

“Buddy. There’s no beach on D’Qar,” Poe said. Finn’s eyes grew wide as he noticed little groups of people emerging out of the nearby woods, flooding dangerously close to the X-wing. And then he ran.

Every bit of this is amazing, but for some reason the part that really cracked me up was Anakin's recommendation to "buy him some chocolate."

I just had the image of Kylo just loving chocolates and hoping for a box of them every year for Space!Valentine's Day just to wind up annoyed that Hux didn't get him *anything* or even acknowledge what day it was.

Heyyyy, so, would it be okay to include Rey in the dynamic, or would you rather not for this prompt? I have an idea that could go either way...

Every scrap of clothing on Starkiller Base was black.

The Imperial uniforms, the Stormtrooper padding, the poncy robes on the Knights of Ren. All of it was laundered together in a giant industrial turbine. Nimble machine fingers stitched what damage they could repair to torn, cauterizing the polysilk to leave patches invisible to the naked eye. Perfect garments were sorted by machine via sewn-in tracker and delivered by chute back into the closet of the man for which it was tailored; others were melted down into industrial caulk.

Hux's precious Zeltran-silk panties would have been torn to shreds.

They were delicate in the steel bowl of his sink, floating like exotic fish in the clear water. Sodden, pale aqua looked sheer over midnight blue. He applied a little soap to his favorite pair, cobalt with hand-tied lace panels at the sides, and carefully returned them to the basin, gently rinsing the soap out along with his own scent.

Satisfied, he drained the soaped water and rinsed them under the tap, a luxury only the highest officers could enjoy. He'd never been able to indulge this interest when he was a mere Captain- it was his promotion to Colonel that gave more than a sonic. It had simply been a matter of sending a detachment of troops to raid a few choice markets in the system, and then commandeering the cargo he desired. It had been a dreadful abuse of power, something that made the silk slide all the more wonderfully over his cock.

A blaring alarm dragged him out of his reverie, and he tossed the fabric into the sink and wiped his hands through the air dryer. He had to have something clean- there, at the bottom of the elaborate case that once held imperial documentaries, there was another pair. The most expensive he had liberated, azure with minute Dantooine gems, remnants of lightsaber mining. He tugged them on hastily, then his trousers, boots, jacket, and finally his gloves, all under the insistent din. Finally ready, he stalked out of his quarters to the command floor.

The Knight of Ren stood stoic against the command deck window, robes billowing in the flurry of activity around him. The General resented his impassivity. One of their TIE fighters had returned with a rebellion mine on it, something subtle enough to made it through the shields, and had exploded in the hangar; cleanup crews bustled around collecting armor-clad limbs and starship debris alike.

He ordered an immediate quarantine protocol on hangar entry, a new set of sweep checks on departures and set a team of engineers to update the weight calibration systems of the fighters to detect changes before he saw the Knight take a breath. His own skin felt flush with energy, and he stilled his impulse to pace, to fret. What else was there to do? He needed to ensure new orders to his troops that they needed to space their formation to minimize casualties, and perhaps he could dial their self-preservation instincts down so they'd rush rebel pilots once their ships became compromised.

He was about to summon Phasma when he felt steel fingers clamp his shoulder, and he wheeled only to find nothing- but the pressure didn't abate. His eyes snapped to the Knight at the window- Kylo, by the helmet, and the fingers he felt moved spider-light up his cheek to reach inside him. He shuddered, a sudden weakness lighting along his nerves, and his eyelids fluttered as the with probed within him, searching.

He grit his teeth and marched out of the command deck, determined to bring all of his thoughts with him, but he felt the fingers grasping for something to still him and there - he saw the Knight's gloved hand fish his favorite panties out of the dripping pile and hold them aloft. He heard the water slosh on the floor until the fingers withdrew and all he saw was the door to the corridor.

Kylo Ren had turned to face him at last, and there was menace in the set of his shoulders. The Knight crossed in a wrath and cornered Hux against the door, his hand itching to find purchase around his throat.

Instead, he pitched his rasp low so as not to alert the entire staff - "This attack is nothing, and I will not allow you to compromise the patrols under my command. You know what we seek, and if you allow some rebel scrapping to-"

"To destabilize our final preparations for the weapon? I should think Starkiller Base takes priority over your scavenger hunt."

"You're distracted," Ren intoned, and brought those spider fingers over his throat, seeking purchase in the flesh above his collar, another set drifting lower. The voice continued in his mind, raw and young without the filtration of the mask, I would have thought you above such base diversions at a time like this.

"And you can think of nothing more than your myopic search for ancient history." He ignored the tug at his belt, teasing more than sincere, the slide of fingers down against his stomach, and thought fiercely, I hear you keep the mask of Darth Vader in a shrine. We all have our illicit pleasures.

How dare you profane the memory of Darth Vader, Kylo sneered, and the hand shoved down, seeking, finding -

Hux was certain Kylo's masked eyes burned with heat.

"Not here," he hissed, his own skin flushed above his collar. He yanked his fly back up, buckling his belt while Kylo's robes concealed him from view. "If you're going to do that, you're going to have to come with me."

It seemed an eternity until they were safely in his private quarters, the door locking behind them.

Hux hesitated, unsure of how to proceed until Ren reached up to unclasp his helmet. There was a hiss as the chambers vented, a hideous clang as the mask hit the floor and impossibly soft lips were on his, the whole of Ren forcing him against the door. A gloved hand slid through his hair, another fought eagerly at his belt. He reached up into a shock of long hair, tugging the desperate mouth back so he could catch his first glimpse of the man's face.

Kylo could have been unmatched in beauty, if not for his ghastly pallor, made more severe by his black hair and brows, his deep-set eyes. Those eyes were as a tractor beam locking him impossibly in place, searching his own for - for what? And he felt it, then, Kylo pulling his desires from him, invisible fingers searching for his most private fantasies, the humiliation he craved and had never hoped to admit.

Then the hand on his belt wrenched downwards, the buckle snapping off and the whole of his trousers falling with it, leaving him exposed in his azure silks, a wet stain of precome on the front. The Knight nearly growled in lust and dropped to his knees, tugging Hux's hips forward so he had the perfect angle to nuzzle against him. The sharp nose and smooth skin on the other side of the silk drew an involuntary moan from the General as he struggled to keep stable footing.

With a sharp tug, Kylo tore the left strap the thousand-credit panties to shreds, tiny Dantooine gems clattering across the floor as he did. He growled and tugged the ruined silk aside, freeing Hux's cock and taking it to the base in a second.

Hux's fingers fought for purchase in that silky hair, and instead of praising the maker or even the dark side, he hissed, "You have no idea how valuable- what you've done-"

Your stolen whore's clothes mean that much to you? Ren rumbled, mouth still completely occupied on Hux's cock. Nimble fingers twisted in the remaining strap, tightening it around Hux's thigh until the remaining beads cut into his skin.

"It's the - principle of the thing," he groaned, any attempt at imperiousness quickly lost.

The wet heat of his mouth, press of his tongue was almost too much, and the rub of ruined silk against his thigh had him weak. He'd never lost his composure this fast, never felt his legs unsteady beneath him as he pressed his shoulders into frigid metal and surveyed his own exposed thighs and the most powerful man in the galaxy between them.

Ren moaned around him and Hux found himself full of visions of the sins they could commit together- bloodied Resistance pilots in chain gangs, the Republic Senate on their knees in ultimate submission. The head of General Organa cast in durasteel and mounted to the hood of Ren's command shuttle. General Hux delivering the final triumphant speech to their helpless foes with Kylo Ren silent and terrifying at his side. The pleasures they'd seek together afterwards, lost in carnal reward for the ultimate triumph. He saw his own fingers twist in red silk sheets, Ren's gloved hands around his wrists, lost to pleasure atop an eternity of ruin.

"Ren-" he gasped, close to breaking.

You're mine, Ren growled. Come for me.

If he'd tried, he couldn't have held back, and he came, thrusting into lips that suited only one task. Ren swallowed greedily, his fingers squeezing into Hux's pale buttock, taking the last of his come before pulling back for a much-needed breath.

Hux sagged against the wall, panting for his own air as Ren stood to retrieve his mask.

"Stay."

"There's work to be done," Kylo said, the first real words Hux had heard from him unfiltered and aloud. "My 'myopic search for ancient history.'" The ghost of a smirk crossed his features, and then the mask slid down and hid it away.

Once Ren was gone, Hux straightened himself up and divested his soiled, torn uniform into the laundry chute. The belt would need a new buckle, the trousers considerable repair. There was nothing to be done for his scraps of unmentionables, but he found himself unwilling to dispose of them. Instead, he returned them to the secret box from whence they'd come. A pity- he'd so loved that pair.

Perhaps he needed to commandeer more cargo for the Order.

outshine the moon
(Finn/Poe, Luke/Wedge, Rey/Jessika)

On AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5660980

-&-

There are a lot of wartime weddings in the Resistance. You never know when you might go into action, and you never know if you’re going to come back, so the ‘let’s date for five years, get engaged for two, and finally have a huge white wedding that costs thousands of credits’ thing isn’t really practical.

(Plus, everyone loves having an excuse for a party.)

Things have been a little tense lately, ever since Rey and Luke returned from Ahch-To and Admiral Antilles took one look at Luke’s very-not-dead self and went into a snit he still hasn’t snapped out of. Poe, as one of his unfortunate pilots, has had to run countless drills, even on stuff everyone knows how to do backwards and forwards already. (Seriously, they’re pretty damn good at the ‘fly down a long trench and fire proton torpedoes into an exhaust port’ drill now.)

So when Finn grins at him one morning, running a fond hand over the curve of his bicep, Poe tangles their legs together in the sheets and says “Let’s get married.”

They’ve talked about it before. Finn doesn’t really have much of a concept of marriage – stormtroopers don’t go in much for sentiment and life commitment, as a rule – but he has a robust concept of being in love with Poe, so he’s interested. And once Poe explains that married couples get their own (tiny) quarters, he’s totally on board.

(Plus, you know, the whole ‘public affirmation of love’ thing. They’re both lovestruck saps.)

“Okay,” Finn says, easy and warm, and then rolls over on top of him.

Poe says ‘oof’ in a tiny voice, then leans up to kiss him, laughing.

“How much time do we have before Antilles wants you in the simulators bullseyeing womp rats?” Finn asks, shortly afterwards.

“Not much,” Poe says, scraping his teeth across Finn’s nipple, “but we’ll make it work.”

-&-

Rey also doesn’t have much of a concept for marriage, as it turns out, which makes Poe want to snuggle her and Finn, because they deserve all the love and warmth imaginable.

“Get off, hug-monster,” Rey says, pushing him back into his own seat. “Eat your breakfast.”

“But really,” Finn says, gesturing with a half-eaten apple, “I want you to be my Best Man.”

Poe can see a difficulty with that arrangement, but he eats his oatmeal and beams at his fiancé. Everything in the world is awesome today.

“Best Girl, anyway,” Finn corrects himself. “Poe says somebody stands up with you and supports your marriage, and then they tell dirty stories about you at the party. That has to be you.”

“Hmm,” Rey says, dubiously. “I’m not telling them about the time Poe was dressed up as Kylo Ren.”

Hey, that’s not their fault. What fantasies a pilot and his stormtrooper get up to in the privacy of their own room is entirely their own business. Young Jedi shouldn’t start opening doors just because they hear a stormtrooper voice saying ‘yes, Kylo Ren’, and if they do, they should have the decency to shriek, not roll their eyes and say ‘he’s taller than that, Poe’, which is seriously deflating.

Finn is blushing. “There are other stories!”

Jessika has been quiet up until now, sneaking glances at Rey in what she thinks is a super-stealthy manner. Now she perks up and says, “What about the time Finn was late for gunnery practice and when Ta’ava went to find him, Poe was trying to untie him but couldn’t figure out the knots?”

“Maybe a story that doesn’t make me look incompetent,” Poe says, because yes, Jessika, he knows knives exist, it’s just that a) he didn’t have time to go find a knife, and b) he didn’t want to risk cutting Finn. Besides, that incident meant that they invested in a book about actual bondage knots, so it worked out great, thanks.

Jessika grins and sticks her tongue out at him.

“Ooh,” Rey says, starting to enter into the spirit of things, “I could tell the story about the time Finn commed Poe during drills, and neither realized his comm was hot. Finn: When are you finishing up? Poe: I’m in the middle of a Death Star drill, babe. Finn: Okay, well, when you get down from there, come over to mine and I’ll torpedo your exhaust port. Squadron, collectively: Uhhhhhh....!! Blue Three: Black Leader, be aware that your comm is broadcasting.”

She’s really very good at the impressions. It’s almost uncanny. “How about a story that focuses on how much we love each other?” Poe asks, desperately.

Jessika, Rey, and Finn look at each other. “Nah,” they say in unison.

-&-

By the time Poe gets to his afternoon strategy meeting, everyone on base seems to know that he and Finn are tying the knot.

So he’s not at all surprised when General of the Resistance Leia Organa, supreme commander of everything and his childhood hero, looks up from her agenda and says, “Dameron. You’re getting married?”

“Yes, General,” he says, trying to snap to attention in his chair, which doesn’t really work that well.

Nobody really seems to notice, though, because at the word ‘married’ both Luke and Admiral Antilles started bristling and glaring at each other. The General has smartly seated them at opposite ends of the table, but it’s not that big a table (just the General, Luke and Rey, the fleet Admirals, and a few key leads like Poe), and Admiral Antilles has a very powerful glare.
The General nods. “Talk to me after.”

After the meeting, Poe watches Rey shepherd Luke out the opposite door from Admiral Antilles, and waits until the room is clear. “You wanted to speak to me, General?”

“You can call me Leia when we’re off-duty, Dameron,” she says, a twinkle in her eye. “You were always such a boy for titles. I’m sorry we can’t officially give you ‘best pilot in the resistance’.”

When First Order people know it, Poe thinks it’s pretty official already. But that’s beside the point. “Thank you, General.”

She sighs and shakes her head, but she’s smiling. “You know that I was close to your mother?”

“I know she was your pilot after Endor,” Poe says. “My father didn’t talk about her much, though – it was hard for him.”

“The things Shara could do in a plane…” she says, leaning back in her chair. “You get your piloting gene from her, young man. But she wasn’t just my pilot, she was one of my best friends. When your parents left to begin their new life on Yavin 4, I missed her, and when I heard that she’d died, I promised myself that I’d keep an eye on her son.”

Poe thinks about his years serving the Republic, and how defecting to the Resistance had felt like coming home. “I’m honored.”

“I’m proud of you, Poe,” the General says. “I know Shara would be proud of you too.”

He doesn’t know what to say; she is smiling at him, and he feels all choked up. “Thank you,” he manages.

She nods. “I don’t know when you plan to have the wedding, but if your father can’t make it in time, I would be honored to stand up with you.”

And that is how General Leia Organa ends up walking Poe down the aisle.

-&-

-&-

They set the date for tomorrow night, because tonight seems too soon but they don’t want to wait long. If they wait too long, Kylo Ren’s going to come haring across the galaxy looking for a fight (he does that on a tiresomely regular basis), and Kylo Ren is not the kind of wedding crasher you want.

Besides, Poe thinks, as he brushes his teeth and watches Finn getting naked out of the corner of his eye, why wait to make a good thing official?

(They shouldn’t actually be assigned married quarters until they’re actually, you know, married, but Jessika sweet-talked someone in Personnel into fast-tracking them so they could have their traditional pre-wedding night. Everyone knows you’re too drunk and too tired and too worn-out to have good sex on your actual wedding night, so the pre-wedding night is the best.)

Finn is making impatient sounds from the bed, so Poe grins, flips his toothbrush into the holder, and switches off the light.

-&-

Poe is on his way to set up chairs in the hangar – Rey and Jessika are supposedly already there putting up the wedding arch – when he nearly runs straight into Luke & Admiral Antilles.

“You could have fucking told me you were fucking off to become a hermit,” the Admiral says, his arms crossed belligerently.

Luke throws his hands up in frustration. “It’s not like I can schedule these things! I didn’t know in advance that Ben was going to turn!”

“I would have come with you!” the Admiral shouts.

Neither of them are taking any notice of Poe. He takes a step back, trying to think of the quickest way to the hangar that doesn’t involve going down this corridor.

Luke deflates a little. “I would have sent a message, Wedge,” he says, stepping closer and putting a hand on the Admiral’s arm, “but you know messages can be intercepted. It had to be a secret.”

“You could have told me,” the Admiral says, obstinately, shaking Luke’s hand off and stalking away.

Luckily, he stalks off in the opposite direction, and Poe hightails it out of there before Luke turns and sees him.

“Heads-up,” he tells Rey when he reaches the hangar, “Luke’s in a terrible mood.”

“Antilles,” she says, shaking her head. “Those two need to clear the air.”

Poe sets up some chairs next to his X-wing, leaving space for BB-8. “They tried. It got loud.”

She says something that Poe recognizes from the times Chewbacca’s dealing with a particularly difficult mechanical issue on the Falcon.

“Hey,” Poe says, holding his hands up placatingly, “maybe our wedding will help.”

Jessika pops her head around the wedding arch, where she’s industriously twining flowers. She must have flown out this morning and picked them, and Poe beams at her, even though her flower-decorating abilities are not her strongest suit. “Maybe they’ll get drunk at your open bar, and the sex will be so good they’ll forget why they were mad at each other.”

Poe privately thinks this is unlikely, and from her face so does Rey, but she says, “That’s sweet, Jessika. Maybe they will.”

When Jessika goes back to twining flowers, Poe mouths at Rey, “Ask her out already.”

Rey makes a face at him.

-&-

“Are you ready for this?” Finn asks.

Poe’s smoothing down his dress uniform, his stomach full of butterflies, but Finn’s voice never fails to calm him down. He turns, smiling. “Yes. Of course. Are you?”

Finn nods. “Oh, I’m definitely ready.”

“That’s what a guy likes to hear,” Poe says, and slings an arm around his neck, pulling him down into a kiss.

After a minute, Rey says, “Do you two think you can keep your hands off each other long enough to get married? A lot of people are waiting out there.”

The General laughs.

Poe lets Finn go. “Okay, fine, if we have to,” he says, although he can’t stop grinning, so he’s not really pulling off the mock-annoyance here. “Go ahead, BB-8.”

BB-8 may not be a traditional flower-girl or ring-bearer, but it beeps happily and sets off, the rings secure in one of its internal storage units. They watch it go, smiling, and then Poe reluctantly relinquishes Finn to Rey’s peremptory arm.

Poe had tried to convince Finn to wear his dress uniform, but Finn was determined to wear Poe’s jacket, back from the first time they met. And perhaps it’s fitting; it definitely fits well, Poe thinks, his mouth turning up wickedly, as he takes advantage of his rear view.

“If he makes you smile like that, you’ll do fine, flyboy,” the General says, taking his arm.

And then they’re walking down the aisle, with Finn waiting for him under the arch.

-&-

“I present to you Poe and Finn Dameron,” Luke says.

Poe only half-hears him, though, because he’s too busy grinning at Finn, his whole heart full of bliss. They’re married. Married!

Finn uses his hand to pull him back down the aisle, and then they get a little quick kissing in before Rey tells them to break it up and come do the receiving line.

“Congratulations, Damerons,” the General says, pressing their hands with hers. “May you be very happy together.”

(Poe’s still getting used to the fact that Finn is a Dameron now, but that’s one of the things Finn wanted most (along with the open bar). “You gave me my first name,” he’d murmured into Poe’s skin, moving maddeningly slowly as Poe groaned and tried to speed up their rhythm. “I’m gonna steal yours now.”

“You can steal anything if you get a move on,” Poe had said, using his heels to pull Finn closer.)

“Thank you, General,” Finn says. He’s been smiling ever since the vows, and he doesn’t look like he’s going to stop anytime soon.

“Look, I’m SORRY,” Luke yells, from up by the arch. “Next time I have to save the galaxy I’ll tell you first!”

The General pinches the bridge of her nose between forefinger and thumb. “Excuse me, boys.” Over her shoulder, she adds, “Congratulations again.”

She’s halfway up the aisle when the Admiral yells back, “That’s all you had to say, nerfherder,” and pulls Luke into an embrace.

“Well, that seems to be solved,” Poe tells Rey, who’s just come up to tell them that it’s time to throw the bouquets.

“About time too,” Rey says. “Hopefully it’ll center him, because our training has been crazy recently.”

“Maybe if Antilles gets laid, you won’t have to go on as many early-morning drills,” Finn tells Poe, beaming.

“Hey,” Rey says, hitting him in the shoulder. “We’re leaving the details oblique.”

-&-

Later, Poe dances with Finn; and by dancing, he means ‘swaying together haphazardly, not exactly to rhythm’. It’s awesome, and not just because they keep taking breaks to make out like they’re fifteen instead of grown men. Poe’s pretty sure that the usual rules against PDA don’t apply on your wedding day.

“All right,” the General says, pitching her voice so it will travel, “everyone who has dawn shift needs to hit the hay. And everyone who doesn’t have dawn shift, quiet things down so they can rest.”

“Party-pooper,” Admiral Antilles says. He’s in a much better mood now, keeping cheerful hold of Luke’s waist like he thinks Luke might become a hermit again at any moment. He didn’t even blanch when Poe’s bouquet hit him in the head, which, to be fair, was not an accident in any way, shape, or form. (Poe has excellent aim, on board ship and off.)

“You be quiet,” the General says, poking him. “And you,” she tells Luke, “use your mental shields tonight.”

“Please,” Rey says, sotto voce.

Jessika, who caught Finn’s bouquet by virtue of an excellent spinning maneuver that just beat out Whepta from Ops, is holding Rey’s hand and looking very happy with herself.

Poe clears his throat. “Thank you for coming, everyone,” he says. “We’ve had a great wedding, and we’re looking forward to a great future.”

“Thank you,” Finn says. “It means a lot to me, to have friends like you all.”

They get applause, and then Admiral Antilles says, “Go away, and I don’t want to see either of you at drills tomorrow. We’ll see how the rest of you do without your leader.”

Poe grins at his fellow pilots as they groan. “Have fun!” he says cheerfully, and then grabs Finn’s hand and takes off for their quarters.

“I hope the First Order doesn’t show up tomorrow,” Finn says, as Poe tries to remember what the combination is to unlock their door. It’s late, okay, and he’s more than a little drunk on Corellian Twisters, Tattoine Sunburns, and love.

“Don’t even say that,” he admonishes, as he finally gets it open and pulls Finn inside with him. “We’re not thinking about the First Order, or battles, or fucking Kylo Ren. Not tonight.”

“I’d prefer to think about fucking you,” Finn says, drawing him close, and okay, Poe opened himself up for that one.

He rolls his eyes and kisses Finn, happy and home.

-&-

Admiral Antilles is not noticeably mellower after his reconciliation with Luke, although he does start having hickies, which everyone studiously ignores.

Jessika is an over-sharer, and tells Poe and Finn far more than they need to know about how awesome having sex with a Force-sensitive is. Rey, having surmounted her initial shyness (no shyness can last long around Jessika), just smirks.

Poe starts taking the General on weekly lunch dates. He figures that with Han gone and their kid off being a galactic fuckup, she might appreciate having him around as a surrogate son of sorts. She tells him great stories about how crazy his mother was when she was young, and he gives her piloting lessons sometimes. (Antilles nearly has a fit the morning he puts her in a spare X-wing and sneaks her into drills. Apparently you shouldn’t really take the General of the Resistance up on drills, it’s like, unnecessary risk or something. But Poe doesn’t care, because the General loved it. She’s also a really good shot - they totally torched Jessika & Finn’s asses.)

And Poe & Finn? Well, the Damerons are doing just fine.

Sure, they might be fighting battles against the evil First Order. Sure, it’s pretty dangerous out there, and sure, Poe doesn’t know when he’ll be able to retire and have the garden he’s always wanted to have, or start a family with Finn.

But in the meantime, they’re two guys who love each other, and that’s all Poe’s ever asked for.

“I’m home!” he says, setting his flight helmet down on the table inside the door (the faster to reach it in case of a sudden call in the middle of the night), and Finn comes to kiss him, grinning wide enough to outshine the moon.

-&-

This isn't a full fill - I hope someone writes it for you!! - but I thought I'd give you a heads up that I used your prompt as inspiration for a major subplot in the fill for the prompt right below you (Finn/Poe, wedding). :)

Op does happy dance :) yay, some fluffy kylux at last.

unbelievably good.

Yes to all of the above. I hadn't even considered this a possibility before, but now I want to read it so bad it hurts.

I've never tried to write crack before. generally I'm the wham-bam-thank-you-sir/ma'am PWP type, but when I read this prompt the first thing that came to mind was "Eddie's Teddy" from RHPS, and I just had to write something.

Han thought that it was rather narcissistic, how the Ewoks of Endor IV gave their most prized warriors effigies of themselves as trophies, instead of medals, or some sort of actually useful reward. But Leia was charmed by their humble offerings for the Rebel Alliance's assistance with keeping Endor IV autonomous from the Empire's autocracy.

So charmed, in fact, that she thought that it would make a perfect present for their incipient Bundle of Joy. It was a shame, then, that the aforementioned Bundle of Joy seemed to share his father's misgivings, and brutalised the poor toy. It started with the eyes. Young Ben Solo would pluck them out, and while General Organa was too busy to sew on new ones herself, she delegated the task to another Alliance member, and that's the same as doing it herself, right?

Once Ben began teething though, and tearing the eyes off with his teeth, and there was an almost-incident regarding almost swallowing one of the replacement buttons, General Organa decided against having the bear repaired. Bored with plucking the eyes out, Ben resorted to tearing the little toy bear apart limb from limb.

But eventually, Ben grew bored of this, also, and just threw the bear away altogether. Also, he was Too Old to be playing with toys, mom. He was nearly 12, and Uncle Luke had begun training him in the ways of the Force, so he had much more Important Things to be doing. Like practicing his lightsaber katas--just with a stick, at first, because Uncle Luke was really Boring and wouldn't let him practice with a proper lightsaber.

The fact that when he first held a lightsaber he turned it on and snipped off the bottom of Luke's beard in a shave a bit too close for comfort notwithstanding.

So, really. When Ben didn't like his Teddy, and (albeit accidentally) threatened Uncle Luke's life with a lightsaber, everyone should have known that he was a no-good kid.

HNNNGGG yes.

OOH I hope you do fill it! It would be the first fill for a prompt that I did, so I would love to read it. I think I also may write it myself, but I have no idea what I'm doing...

Seconded!!

Yes this give me this cat!Kylo for the win. Seriously Cat!Kylo would be the best troll. And maybe he'd curl up on top of consoles and hiss at people rather than going all Kylo SMASH.
Basically this anon just did such a happy dance. I love you so much right now OP seriously I hope this gets written.

Oh yes, this prompt gives me funny feelings... Big second

Thanks!

I do plan on a happy ending, or at least a hopeful one. I can only handle so much pain, and I have a lot of Solo family feelings.

YES DEAR GOD PLEASE

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PROMPT POST #1 - CLOSED

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Re: FILL: Han/Leia Force Ghost

no subject

Re: FILL: Kylo Ren/Poe, Dub-Con/Non-Con, Jedi Mind Tricks (2/?)

Re: FILL: Rey/Luke, Virginity

Re: Poe/Finn, Finn is more experienced

FILL--

Re: [FILL: Masked Disapproval] Re: Hux talking to Vader's helmet...

Re: Poe/Finn, everybody loves Finn, Poe's a little jealous

FILL: Zeltran Silk - Hux/Ren, Panties kink (1)

FILL: Zeltran Silk - Hux/Ren, Panties kink (2)

FILL: Zeltran Silk - Hux/Ren, Panties kink (3)

Fill: outshine the moon (Finn/Poe, Luke/Wedge, Rey/Jessika) [1/2]

Fill: outshine the moon (Finn/Poe, Luke/Wedge, Rey/Jessika) [2/2]

Re: Luke/Wedge, rocky reunion

Re: Put Out the Light In Your Clouded Eyes - Part 1/?

Re: a sort of fill

Re: Kylo Ren is trans

Fill: What a Guy

Re: Misplaced Comment Fill ( Hux/Kylo)

Re: Finn/Kylo Ren Finn/Hux Finn/Kylo Ren/Hux A/B/O

Re: Finn/Poe, Foster homes AU

Re: Kylo Ren is basically a giant cat

Re: Luke/Rey - Suspension, Trust

Re: Mini Fill, part 2/?

Re: Rey/Luke - "OH SHIT HE'S HOT"