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PROMPT POST #2 - CLOSED

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prompt post one

+ All comments except fills should be posted anonymously.
+ 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.
+ don't hijack other people's prompts.
+ prompts should not exceed ~250 words.
+ also, while this is not really a rule I can enforce, please try to limit yourselves to fewer than 5 prompts per page.
+ reposting prompts is currently not allowed.
+ no prompts based on real life tragic events. e.g: 9/11 au, concentration camp au, etc
+ PLAY NICE

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Let’s say Finn was wearing The Jacket under his Padawan robes. *handwaves*

There are descriptions of some of Poe’s injuries. If you think this could be potentially triggering, please don’t read any further!

Also there's some guilt on Finn's part. And tears. Sorry. T_____T

---

Finn leans in the doorway of Poe's room and just watches, silently, as a fleet of efficient medidroids tends to him. One of the droids, a stocky, box-shaped thing, changes the bacta-bandages wrapped around Poe’s midsection and replaces them with a fresh set. Another helps Poe to sit up in his bed and unties the fastenings of his medbay gown with its claw-like pincers.

The gown slips form his shoulders and Finn fights off a wave of nausea that tightens its grip around his throat and threatens to overpower him. Poe’s bare back is a mess of deep purple bruises and scraped-raw skin. The droid changes the dressings on his back, replacing them with fresh bandages, and helps Poe slip his arms back into the sleeves of his gown. Finn notices then that the fingers of his right hand are set in a bulky plastoid cast, as is his left ankle.

Once they’re done, the droids file out of the room and shut the door behind them to give Finn and Poe a little privacy.

“Hey, buddy,” Poe rasps, sounding like he swallowed a bucket of nails.

“How are you?” Finn asks, shoving his shaky, suddenly clammy hands in the pockets of his jacket.

It’s a stupid question, but Finn can’t think of anything else to say.

What he really wants to say is, ‘I’m going to find whoever did this to you and show them what a stormtrooper’s capable of,’ but he doesn't think that would go over well with anyone, least of all Poe.

It’s not really his call to make, anyway. The rapist had already been caught and dealt with, according to General Organa. Finn hadn't pressed her for details, but he’d gathered it was a brutal, swift dispatching at the hands of Poe’s fellow pilots.

Good for them, he thinks. Only wish I’d been here to help.

“I’ve been better,” Poe says, settling back in his bed with a grimace. He tries to smile, but ends up pulling at the stitches in his lip. Poe clenches his uninjured hand in a fist for a moment, before opening his hand and relaxing his fingers. “I guess they told you what happened?”

“Got the gist,” Finn says, pushing himself away from the wall and approaching Poe’s bed slowly. “General Organa filled me and Rey in after we got back from Ahch-To.”

Poe sighs and closes his eyes. Finn notices the wetness on his cheeks and something twists painfully in his chest. “I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for?” Finn asks, appalled that Poe apparently thinks there are things he ought to be apologizing for.

Poe blinks his eyes open wearily. “I…I don’t know,” he says, turning his head away from Finn toward the blank white wall. Poe looks thoughtful, like he has something more he wants to say and just can’t quite get it out.

Finn looks around, gaze settling on a small stool, which he drags over to the side of Poe’s bed. It scrapes across the tiled floor and Poe flinches at the sound, but tries to hide it with a shrug. Finn offers him an apologetic smile, tries not to let it bother himself too much that Poe can’t seem to bring himself to smile back.

“So, um,” he says, sitting next to the bed and holding out his hand. He bounces his foot anxiously. “Can I… Can I hold your hand? Or would that be weird?”

Poe does manage a smile this time, one that almost makes it to his eyes, and reaches out, wrapping his hand loosely around Finn’s. “Not weird.”

“Okay. Good. That’s good. Not weird is good.” Finn knows he’s rambling now, but he’s nervous. He doesn’t know how to comfort people, not really. Certainly not with words.

When Rey woke up their first night together on Ahch-To with Master Luke, quaking with terror over some half-remembered dream, tears streaming down her pale cheeks, he took her in his arms and rubbed her back. Grasped her hand in his and let her anchor herself to him.

He wants so badly to hug Poe, but he just doesn’t know. Doesn’t know if Poe is ready for that. Doesn’t know if he’s ready for that.

So Finn turns Poe’s hand over in his until the palm is facing up, and traces his fingertips over his lifelines as Rey had done for him. It had comforted him; he hopes he can bring some sliver of comfort to Poe.

When he raises his head, Poe’s eyes are on their hands, following the movements of Finn’s fingers. For a moment, Finn panics, wonders if he’s making Poe uncomfortable.

“It’s fine,” Poe says, so quietly Finn can hardly hear him over the low hum of the machines he’s hooked up to. “It’s… You’re good, Finn. You’re good.”

Finn laughs and it catches in his throat, and he realizes, with a faint prick of shame, that he’s started crying. He rubs at his burning eyes with the bottom of the dust-and-motor-oil covered shirt he hadn’t bothered to change from, which only makes things worse. A painful wound opens in his chest, cuts like the jagged scar Kylo Ren dealt him on Starkiller.

He can’t fathom why he’s crying. This didn’t happen to him, he wasn’t the one who—who was—

Finn had wanted so badly to be strong for Poe, someone solid that Poe could lean on. And here he is, forcing Poe to comfort him. As if he's the one who really needs it.

Rather than dry Finn’s shameful tears, Poe’s attempts at comfort just make him cry even harder.

“I, I’m sorry,” he stammers, tugging away from Poe to rub his hands over his face. He forces out an awkward little sob of a laugh. “I’m sorry. Better get ahold of myself before I drown us both, huh?”

Poe sighs. “It’s okay, Finn.”

“It’s not okay. You need me to be—”

“I just need you to be here. And you are,” Poe says.

Finn drops his hands and looks at Poe through his tears. “But this isn’t about me. This happened to you and I should’ve been here and I wasn't, I shouldn't be—”

The corner of Poe’s mouth quirks up. “What you’re experiencing is commonly known as compassion. Sympathy. Which you seem to possess loads of, much to the consternation of the First Order,” he says dryly.

Finn sniffles miserably and wipes his nose on his jacket sleeve, which is a terrible miscalculation. He just ends up smearing tears and snot all over, which causes Poe to laugh hard enough that he splits another stitch in his lip. Poe plucks a tissue from a box on the table beside his bed and holds it out to Finn, who gratefully cleans himself up.

“Feeling better?” Poe asks, which Finn still finds ridiculous because, hello. Finn’s not the one laid up in medbay in a thin gown, with casts on his wrist and ankle, and bruises, cuts, scrapes, and stitches covering nearly every inch of his body.

He’s not the one who had something violently taken from him. Not this time.

“Yeah,” he says, sliding his hand back over Poe’s slowly, slow enough to give Poe a chance to pull away if he wants.

Poe doesn’t say anything. And he doesn't pull his hand away.

---

TBC.

A!A

Just put up part 3, OP!

this is it. this is what throws me into kylux hell. I legit screeched when we got to Captain Phasma. The mental image of this entire fic is worth gold tbh bless u

I read the first two parts and I couldn't stop thinking about it all day. I'm so glad this is updated and I can wait for more!

OP here!

This is gold! Oh god my sides hurts. I.. Wow.

Also this:

Han proceeds, unfettered by his son’s spiraling insanity. “You don’t need to do this. Any of this. Especially not in the exact same spot where you were conceived.”

Shit. I''ll end up copy pasting the whole fic because that was a wild ride from start to finish

someone asked for face-matches. you can imagine kylia as my ex-girlfriend, paloma as me, and hux--you know what, that one's too complicated to really explain. enjoy the next bit.

*

Kylia lets the Stormtrooper attach the hand restraints to a battered, exhausted-looking Paloma, but she raises a hand when the neck restraint--the one she ordered--snaps open. "No," she says. "I will do it myself." The Stormtrooper ducks their head, and Kylia thinks she can feel a faint tinge of embarrassment coming off the masked face. It is no matter.

Paloma lifts her head just high enough to let Kylia close the restraint around her neck. "Hope you'll get me a nicer one later."

Kylia runs the chain through her hand. "If you behave." Paloma's eyes widen a little, and she drops her head again, her breath hitching silently. Kylia can feel the jolt, mild as a shock from static.

She wants to believe Paloma. She wants to believe all the beautiful things that had flowed out of Paloma's mouth, one after another. That Kylia had become beautiful, that her nose made her look regal and her eyes flashed. That Paloma had missed her every single day since they'd parted, thought about her in the darkness of the night. That nobody had been enough for her since Bethel Organa. That the kiss they'd shared in Bethel's bedroom the day before Paloma went to the New Republic Academy for pilot training, that kiss had meant everything. That Paloma had wished every day she'd never left Bethel there.

She wants to believe that Paloma wasn't really looking for Luke Skywalker to bring him back to the Resistance, like Snoke had said. She wants to believe that Paloma was only looking for Luke because she was looking for Bethel. That she'd quit the Republic Starfleet and had searched for Bethel for two years.

The Force tells her Paloma is lying. Paloma doesn't have to know that.

"One thing," Kylia says, after she dismisses the Stormtrooper and the doors slide shut.

Paloma nods eagerly. "Yeah! Whatever."

Kylia concentrates. Strength is her strong suit, not finesse, and this will take finesse. She chews on one side of her lip and conducts a symphony with her fingers. First Paloma's bulky vest comes off, ripping itself into shreds on the floor. Then her coveralls, disassembling where it lies on Paloma's body into a cloudburst of shreds. Kylia admires the smooth muscles under Paloma's olive skin, the leanness of the hint of midriff that gapes between her A-line shirt and her tight, black pants. Paloma's eyes are wide again, and Kylia flatters herself to think that Paloma is a little impressed.

"Is that the Force?" Paloma asks. She looks delighted. "You finally figured out how to...you know, make it work?"

"I told you I would." Kylia isn't done yet, not by far. She makes a tearing motion with her fingers.

"Can you teach me--oh--" Paloma lets out a squeak as her A-line shirt rips itself right off her body. Kylia had meant it to be slower, more seductive, but Paloma's reaction is still gratifying. The pilot stands with her breasts bare, dark nipples hard and puckered in the cold air of the interrogation room.

Paloma's voice is low, husky. "You're not--you're not going to drag me out there like that, are you?"

"I'm going to show you off to everyone," Kylia growls. "Show them how the best pilot in the Resistance has agreed to give herself to me. As a prisoner, a slave." She hisses the last word, and feels a sense of justice. Her grandfather had been a slave. Her mother had been enslaved...for a time. And now Kylia is the one with her hand on the leash.

"Gods, Beth," breathes Paloma. "You play hard."

"You'll see." Kylia pulls her mask back on and tugs on Paloma's chain, leading her out of the interrogation room.

They're met by Hux, who raises her eyebrows when she catches sight of Paloma Dameron, half-naked and apparently cowed, with a collar around her neck and her hands chained behind her back. "I assume you've gotten what you needed from the prisoner, Madame Ren?"

"The interrogation will proceed in my chambers, General," Kylia informs her.

"Very good." Hux falls into step next to Kylia as Paloma follows behind them. Kylia can feel the emanations of emotion from Paloma's mind--the fear, the excitement, the shame at having her breasts on display for whoever might pass by. "Do you require my assistance?"

A spike of fear from Paloma, quickly tamped down. Kylia smiles underneath her mask. Paloma is far too confident that Kylia will be lenient with her, perhaps even lenient enough to let her escape. Kylia has to show her that she loves Paloma too much for that. But first, she has to show Paloma just what could happen to her, for her own good.

"The prisoner is in *my* custody, General," Kylia snaps. "I'll thank you to cease your meddling."

"And the prisoner is on *my* ship," Hux says smoothly. "As commander of this vessel, I have the right to interrogate her to my satisfaction. I am not yet satisfied, Madame."

"Satisfy yourself in your own quarters, *Brenda*," Kylia sneers. She can feel Paloma's spirits rise. Is it wishful thinking from the pilot, or does that collar ride lighter on her neck?

Hux lets out the kind of dramatic gasp she'd never actually make. Kylia has seen Hux surprised, although she'd never admit it. (The day Phasma had proposed to her, in the officer's mess, without her ever-present helmet. The chromium bracelet, smooth and sleek like Hux. Brenda had stood there, absolutely still, and squinted in confusion. Just once. Then she'd turned on her heel and walked away. Kylia had watched from the corner, gleeful.)

"Kylia Ren, may I remind you that you have thus far failed to obtain the required information from your prisoner during the course of a standard interrogation session? And you a Knight of Ren." Brenda clucks her tongue. "I shouldn't like to tell Snoke about this."

Kylia hisses through her mask. "You will have the duration of one interrogation session with the prisoner," she says. "And I will supervise. In my quarters."

She revels a little bit in Paloma's fear, even as she regrets the pain of it. The cold feeling in Paloma's stomach, the way the corridor seems to be tilting under her feet. She glances backwards. Her girl is stoic, her face blank and sullen. Paloma is going to resist Hux with every inch of her strength. Kylia knows it. It's perfect.

OP

This is beautiful, author. I love how the emotion just sweeps up to a crescendo--and then he yells at Ren and feels better. That's perfect.

OMG I read this as Adam Sandler and was confused af

This is the best thing I've read all week.

Are you 100% in need of Poe/Hux - I am writing this fo sho but wanted to see how you felt about bromance. Of course, its up to you OP, I'm just not AS good at writing romance/sexy times being Ace and all.

Much love to this prompt.

a-d-o-r-a-b-l-e prompt, please enjoy :) cross-posted to AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/5880022

***

The first time it happened, Poe felt totally comfortable ignoring it altogether. After all, they weren’t technically, officially dating yet, so when Finn casually addressed General Organa as “Ley-Ley” and threw an arm over her shoulder during a Resistance meeting, all he had to do was avoid her icy glare, hope that she wouldn’t actually murder Finn in front of all these people, and wait for someone else to change the subject.

But now, things were different. Now, not only were they dating, but Finn had had enough time to learn from his initial mistakes. Poe also felt somewhat personally responsible for every one of Finn’s social transgressions, but more than that, he wanted to make sure Finn actually fit in with his new Resistance family. Plus, a little selfishly, he really did want to show off to everyone how cute his new boyfriend was… when he wasn’t making things weird.

***

Poe was walking through a hallway when he heard a familiar voice.

“Now, they didn’t let us see a lot of pregnancies in the First Order, so I’ve done some research on the best pain treatments and holistic remedies,” it said.

Upon processing the chatter, Poe rushed towards the room, already knowing that he was too late. Inside, Finn was sitting on the edge of Jessika’s desk as she worked out some calculations on a datapad. Jessika, whom Poe knew wasn’t pregnant, seemed to be nodding involuntarily, concentrating on her work, maybe, hopefully not entirely paying attention to Finn’s babbling. Perhaps Poe wasn’t too late to save this situation?

“So have you figured out your birth plan already, Jessika?” asked Finn.

Well, shit.

Jessika raised her eyebrows, glaring over at Poe as he entered the room loudly, hoping to at least cause a distraction.

“Uh, buddy? Can you help me with something… in another room, far away from here?” Poe stammered.

“Oh sure!” said Finn, standing up from the desk as Poe moved forward to grab his arm.

“We’re talking names next time, Jessika!” said Finn with a wink, as Poe pulled him out the door.

***

Poe walked out to the airfield and up to Snap, who was working on his X-wing, with Finn seated below him next to his tools. They were both laughing uproariously.

“What’s, uh—what’s so funny?” asked Poe, as ship repair wasn’t nearly this amusing when he did it.

Finn looked up at him with a slightly furrowed brow and silently mouthed “I. Don’t. Know” through his smile. Snap continued laughing, wiping a tear with his sleeve.

“Hey, bud, could you hand me the external inertial dampener?” said Snap, barely holding back his laugh long enough to ask it, making pointed eye contact with Poe. Poe narrowed his eyes at Snap, knowing that what he’d asked for was in no way a real thing.

Regardless of its non-existence, however, Finn reached confidently for a tool in the pile without hesitation—though it must have been chosen at random—and presented it proudly to Snap. Snap once again doubled over in laughter as he accepted the tool, Finn mirroring his laugh with slight apprehension.

“You know, most people think the First Order only taught us to fight, but we learned other things, too,” said Finn, somewhat smugly. “I’d never worked on an X-wing before, but the design is admittedly pretty simple.”

“Uh huh,” said Poe, folding his arms over his chest. “Well, hot-shot, how about you help me with my ship maintenance and let Snap figure this one out on his own.” Poe place a hand on Finn’s back to guide him away. “Snap has to learn eventually,” he said semi-sternly, as Snap snorted, trying to keep the laugh in.

***

“So, are you excited for your big party tonight?” said Finn, from the other room. Poe let out a big sigh and put down the knife he was holding as he chopped fruit in the kitchen. He’d left them alone for one minute…

“My party?” he heard Rey reply. “What party?”

“Your birthday surprise party!” said Finn, cheerfully. Poe entered the room just as Finn was opening his bag to show her the banner he’d been working on, which proclaimed “HAPPY BIRTHDAY REY!!!!!” in big, colorful letters. “Everyone here has a birthday, and they celebrate it by playing music in a room with a bunch of people, and everyone yells ‘Surprise!’ when you walk in!”

Poe brought a palm up to his forehead, as Finn continued describing every element of the (former) surprise party in great detail and with great excitement. Finn suddenly paused his chatter as he looked Rey up and down.

“You’re not planning on wearing that, right?” said Finn.

“What’s wrong with this?” said Rey, looking down at her soiled, sleeveless flight suit. Poe watched as Finn heaved a sigh and shook his head.

“It’s your birthday! It’s supposed to be special!” he said with an air of authority, despite Poe knowing that this was his first experience of a birthday celebration as well. “Here, I pulled up some holorecordings of previous parties—would you like to watch through them all to see exactly what’s going to happen?”

Rey nodded enthusiastically, as Poe groaned and disappeared back into the kitchen. It was better if he didn’t see this happening.

***

Poe watched as Finn hung his banner in the hangar, stepping back for a moment to make sure it wasn’t crooked. People buzzed around them, setting up decorations and food and drink for the event. Poe hadn’t told anyone else that Finn had ruined the surprise, but he’d decided it was finally time to discuss Finn’s awkward behaviors.

“Hey, can we talk about something?” said Poe, as Finn shifted his attention from the banner.

“Sure, what’s up?” said Finn, putting his hands on his hips.

“Well, I know you’re really excited about being here, so I just wanted to make sure you’re fitting in well with everyone, and to be honest, you’ve been acting a little strange,” said Poe, as gently as he could. Finn however, slumped instantly, looking like he’d been run over by a speeder.

“This happened when I was in the First Order, too,” said Finn, eyes fixed on the floor, shoulders slouched. “I thought it would be different here.” Poe patted him on the back, now wondering if he maybe should have saved this discussion for later, somewhere more private. Suddenly, Finn looked up at him, brown eyes gleaming. “Tell me what I did wrong, I can—I can fix this.”

“Well, ok—do you remember when you told Jessika you thought she was pregnant?” he said. Finn nodded, but looked confused.

“Right. I mean, she is pregnant though,” Finn replied, matter-of-factly.

“No, she’s not, and you can’t just assume people are—that’s considered very rude here,” Poe stressed. Finn hesitated again, squinting his eyes.

“But… she is pregnant,” said Finn. “We were talking about it before you walked in—she just hadn’t wanted to tell you at first. But I get what you’re saying, I was probably talking a little too loud, if you could hear from the outside. I’ll keep that in mind. I wouldn’t want to betray Jessika’s trust or privacy.”

Now Poe was confused.

“Ok, but, what about Snap’s tools?” he asked, somewhat hesitantly.

“Oh yeah, Snap… I was going to bring that up with you, but I wasn’t sure if it was my place to say anything. But since you did, I’d probably recommend he be sent for some additional training—he’s a great guy, great pilot, but he seemed really confused about proper terminology during repairs. I didn’t want to make a big deal about it though, so I just kept handing him the tool he actually he needed, instead of the word he was using,” Finn explained. “So you’re saying I should correct him next time?”

Poe was stunned into silence, but nodded. “Yeah, that might be a good idea,” he said finally. “And—Rey’s party?”

“Well, I guess I ruined the surprise part,” Finn admitted. “But I thought it was better to explain to her what was going on, instead of just scaring her when she walked in here. Because you, of all people, know damn well how she reacts when she’s actually surprised.”

Poe instinctively reached up to the lump on the back of his head, still slightly tender from last week when he’d walked up behind Rey while she had her headset in and couldn’t hear him approaching. “Beat with staff first, think later,” seemed to be her usual mode of reaction.

A sideways grin crept onto Poe’s face as his confusion turned to pride. Not only was his boyfriend cute, but he was also capable and thoughtful. Poe moved forward, smiling, and pulled Finn close to him. Resting one hand on his jawline, he leaned forward and kissed him, lingering on his soft lips. Finn smiled.

“What was that for?” he said.

“I’m not embarrassing you, am I?” said Poe, running his hands down to Finn’s butt and giving it a possessive little squeeze.

“Maybe a bit,” said Finn, grinning as people continued walking all around them. “But I think I can handle a little embarrassment, if you can.”

this is literally my ideal ot3 set-up, anon!! +10000

your link isn't working anymore, op! i need to see these gifs :O

Request!Anon here: this is beautiful and wonderful and Poe, you HUGE DORK. I once it, I am so glad you picked my prompt writer-anon! I am on tenterhooks to see what happens next.

That was GORGEOUS. Sheer beautiful poetry at every turn, and I say that as a person with a degree in English Literature. I want to revel in the majesty of your words. Very well done.

Finn spent their entire rest day in the shooting range, going from scary precise to eerily accurate in the space of hours. Poe had watched for a while, lounging against the partition by him and admiring the way the muscles flexed in his arm as he pulled the trigger. Studiously avoiding the way his throat flexed as he tightened his jaw when a new target appeared.

He’d begged off before noon, mouth dry and mind filled with dramatic scenarios that involved Finn saving the day with an impossible shot. Some of the scenarios were followed by ravaging. Okay, most of them.

He came back after an hour with an assortment of easy-to-transport foods from the mess. “Nobody should skip lunch on an off day,” he said when he dumped the bag on the shelving in front of Finn.

Finn, for his part, immediately holstered his practice weapon. “I missed lunch?” he cried and then, “… You brought me food? Thank you!”

Only instead of immediately stuffing his face, like any self-respecting resistance-fighter-in-training ought to he turned his back on the offering. He splayed on hand firmly on Poe’s chest and pushed him back into the partitioning.

“It was really nothing?” Poe probably would have said to get a pulse on the situation, but he didn’t get a chance because Finn’s mouth was on his.

For an ex-stormtrooper the boy had some skills.

Poe stiffened and broke the kiss off, feeling a hand suddenly somewhere much more sensitive than his chest. “What are you doing?” he squeaked.

“Saying thanks,” Finn said with a cocky smile.

And then he was on his knees and he’d opened the front of Poe’s pants and “Oh, holy shit!”

---

Rey had the good fortune of sparring against Finn during her first week back. She taught him a few new moves and then Finn returned the favor.

He’d waited until they’d gotten back to their barracks, empty in the middle of the day, where Rey had thought they were just going to drop off their sweaty clothes but Finn took her hand and said, “Thanks for working out with me today.”

Rey flushed impossibly hot but let him hold her hand. “Of course,” she said. “We’ll be doing it again.”

To which Finn said, “Let me say thank you now, anyway,” and pulled her into a kiss and tumbled them back onto one of the bunks.

They’d done practically nothing else but kiss since she’d gotten back from her training, so it wasn’t as if she were terribly surprised. The surprising bit came when he got an arm under himself to hold himself up and put his other hand to work at the laces on her pants.

Rey had propped herself up on her elbows to look from his hand to his face. They hadn’t done anything but kissing and she wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to do anything more, but she wasn’t immediately opposed to it.

Instead of answering her unspoken, panted question, with words Finn slipped off the end of the bed to kneel between her legs and Rey’s head immediately fell back. She moaned and arched her back and tried not to rock into him too hard because yes.

---

It wasn’t as if Poe and Rey talked about it. Poe wasn’t the sort to kiss and tell, even to the person who was kissing the same person he was and Rey was fiercely secretive about personal relationships even if she was completely incapable of being subtle about them.

Anyway, the point was, when he walked into Training Room #2 where he and Finn had agreed to let Rey beat them black and blue – or spar, as she and Finn called it – and heard Finn say Thank you in that tone of voice he knew what was up.

Unfortunately, they heard him, too. Rey looked at him, blushing furiously and pressing the ends of her smile thin. Finn half turned and grinned.

“Balls. Wrong place, sorry,” Poe blurted, preparing to make his gracious exit, but Rey and Finn hadn’t been standing far from the door and Finn caught him by the wrist.

He tugged Poe forward and let go to catch him by the elbow and pull him in further. “No, wait, I wanted to say thanks to you, too.”

Poe threw a horrified look at Rey whose hand had flown up to cover her mouth in embarrassment.

No, wait, not embarrassment. When Finn dropped to his knees, grabbed Poe’s hips, and mouthed at him through his clothes she bit down harder on her fingers but it still wasn’t hard enough to muffle her groan.

“But just give me a second,” Finn said against him and pulled back to turn to her. “I was saying something to Rey.”

I can't believe how perfectly in character this feels. Amazing!

"I'M BEING TORN APART."
"Then get off me so I can pull out."
literally every time i thought i found my favorite line, a new one came up. this was beautiful, anon.

A!A

Thanks for the comment, and glad you're enjoying (??? not sure if enjoying is the right word, considering the subject matter) it so far! :)

I... I wasn't sure about the idea of this crossover, but you've turned it into something excellent, and I really like the extra worldbuilding you've added in the review responses.

It's nearly the end of what would normally be the shift cycle, and Hux is starting to shake. He's on his last Hosnian Blue. The earthy, herbal taste of the cigarettes is starting to taste like blood on his tongue, but he can't bring himself to stop.

His uniform is uncomfortably sweaty, as most of the climate control settings seem to have been turned up by at least ten degrees to accomodate the increasingly unclothed denizens. He steps over another tangle of unclothed bodies. Five this time--five genetically optimal, combat-trained humans in the prime of their life, limbs intertwined and muscles glistening.

Hux puts the cigarette to his lips and inhales the last of the smoke, right down to the filter. Then he ashes the cigarette on the fleshy buttock of a man who's clearly passed out, drooling and sprawled like a squashed spider. Hux isn't sure whether the man is injured or just sleeping. He nudges him with the tip of his toe, eliciting a vague groan.

"Carry on," Hux says to the man, and does. It would be nice, he thinks, if nobody had broken into his quarters. He has an unpleasant suspicion that it happened around hour 3, and revises his hopes downward to accomodate the possibility that he might still have a mattress and clean underwear.

He makes it to officer's quarters relatively unmolested, only to come face-to-face with Phasma and a gaggle of what he can only describe as cadet ducklings. She makes a face and shrugs at him. "They followed me home. I might keep them." He notices that she's given her Jaleen mining winkle to Nadya, and that there's fresh blood on it.

"Phasma helped me figure out how to wire the speakers in the flight deck up to the sound mixing board I made," says a gangly boy. "My DJ set starts at 2100 hours next shift cycle. You're invited."

"She showed me how to do makeup with the blood of my enemies!" Hux squints at the girl who says it. She's painted slashing stripes along her cheekbones like fresh scars. "The next lesson is blending."

It makes him realize that he hasn't seen Kylo Ren since the meeting. He'd expected the idiot to be all about the ship smashing every last bit of it, but he hasn't observed so much as a spark or a rumor flying. Perhaps he's simply jumped out of an airlock and ended it all in his shame.

Hux shakes his head. The lauded Knight of Ren, Enforcer of the Finalizer--whatever Snoke wanted to pretend that title conveyed--getting beaten twice by a little girl. It was worse than a mere failure. It was an utter humiliation. Perhaps Ren would be the first to die, he thinks, and he smiles at the idea of getting to watch Kylo go.

"General?" Phasma asks. "Shall we convene at 0800?"

"Right. Fine." Hux snaps back to the real world. "Will the cadets be..."

"Loud? Certainly," Phasma says cheerfully. She heads into her quarters, and the cadets follow obediently. Hux counts at least five filing in behind her. He's impressed, but not surprised.

His quarters are a little bit of a relief. The wardrobe has been opened. His officer's suits have been tossed about the room and trampled, but his civvies have simply been heaped neatly on his desk. No doubt some particularly brave souls were searching for contraband luxuries in his drawers. The bed is rumpled, but seems mostly clean.

Hux snorts and checks the wall safe, which is hidden behind a particularly boring picture of Grand Moff Tarkin. The Corellian brandy is safe, as are his other treasures. A decent assortment of cash and credit sticks. Medals and ribbons, nothing to be proud of now. A few family trinkets passed down for centuries. He withdraws the brandy and takes a drink from the bottle, reminding himself that next time he gets a chance to blow up an entire star system, it shouldn't be one that produces something he actually enjoys.

It would be easy to shuck his clothes and sink onto the bed, drink his way through the bottle and let whatever came in dreams come to greet him. But he finds himself heading to Kylo Ren's quarters with the bottle in his hand. Just to check up on the idiot, he tells himself, to make sure he's still alive. Death might be certain no matter what, but with Kylo Ren gone, his death will probably be far more painful.

In the corridor to Ren's quarters, Hux is met by a cadre of fully armored Stormtroopers. Every single one of them points their gun at Hux as soon as he rounds the corner.

Hux immediately raises his hands. "Ren!" he barks. "Call off your puppets! I'm here alone." After a moment, he adds, "I just wanted to make sure you weren't causing any additional damage to the ship. Not that it matters much, but I do like to be able to breathe."

The door slides open, and a helmeted Ren strides through the troopers. Hux notes that they don't move out of his way, but when he pushes them, they don't resist. "I am preparing myself for further training," he rumbles. "And you should be preparing yourself for your meeting with Snoke."

"For death. Yes." Hux shrugs and uncorks the bottle. "That was my plan. Care to join me?"

"I will leave you to your resignation, General. I still have my uses to the Supreme Leader, even if you do not."

"You got beaten by a desert rat," Hux states flatly. "You raved and ranted about how she was more powerful than you. Do you really think Snoke won't fry you to bits once he's found the girl?"

"I will find her first."

"And none of what I said will be incorrect," Hux says. He sighs. "Very well. Good night, Ren." He corks the bottle and turns to go, resigned to a night drinking alone in his quarters.

"Halt, General."

"Yes, my lord?" Hux asks sarcastically.

"As you have no guards for yourself, you will sleep in my chambers tonight." Ren turns on his heel and stalks into his quarters. The Stormtroopers don't move.

Hux takes another long slug of the Corellian brandy and follows him in.

Yesssssssss

+1 if he did it to make Kylo jealous???

Damn! My fave misfire fill so far!

omg the bargaining, OP you are a wizard

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PROMPT POST #2 - CLOSED

This post is closed to new prompts!

[FILL] Poe is raped on the resistance base (Finn+Rey, Finn+Poe) 3/? (TW injuries)

Re: [FILL] Poe is raped on the resistance base (Finn+Rey, Finn+Poe) 2/?

Re: [FILL] Kylux, exhibitionism

Re: [FILL] Poe is raped on the resistance base (Finn+Rey, Finn+Poe) 3/? (TW injuries)

Re: [FILL] Kylux, exhibitionism

Re: [FILL] Kylux, exhibitionism

fill: what glass splinters lie so deep in your mind 2/? (now with kylux garnish)

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Re: Girls crossover: Kylo Ren/Adam Sackler

Re: [FILL] Kylux, exhibitionism

Re: poe/hux, stranded together

[FILL] Finn/Poe, Finn is a huge dork, Poe dies everyday from secondhand embarrassment

Re: Poe/Finn/Rey - Age Gap

Re: Hux/Kylo - rimming

Re: Fill: learning to dive (from photos on the internet), Finn/Poe, 1/?

Re: Shadows (3)

[MISFIRE FILL] Saying Thanks

Re: No more weakness

Re: [FILL] Kylux, exhibitionism

Re: [FILL] Poe is raped on the resistance base (Finn+Rey, Finn+Poe) 3/? (TW injuries)

Re: Fill: Rey/Kylo Ren - Daemon AU (2/2)

Fill: Just the Best Party 3/?

Re: Hux/Knight(s) of Ren, Jealous Kylo

Re: [MISFIRE FILL] Saying Thanks

Re: Hux/Kylo, Hux hates physical contact