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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

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Foxes go to ground, but humans know better. Lawmen always know where to look- the scene of the crime, last known address, hometown. So Ben Solo went south, way south, away from the stink of paper mills and iron foundries, hitched a train, traveling town by town. He blacked his hair and changed his name, hoping to be someone new. Not a rich boy given command just for who his momma was but a hard working nobody.

Stepping off the train the first night through the Georgia border, he felt himself drowning in hot southern heat, too-long hair plastered to his forehead and his throat parched. The station was near-empty, gas lamps lighting a path down main street to the shining centerpiece of downtown, a whitewash church two stories tall and gleaming against the star-struck sky. Fire blazed within, and the sweet sounds of chorus filtered out.

The door creaked as he pushed it open, but no one took notice. Lily-white girls in faded frocks looked to the schoolmarm who led them in their lines.

Sin had left a crimson stain, He washed it white as snow

Ben, no, Kylo, he had to think of himself as Kylo, cased the pews. No coats, no bags, a tray of fresh baked bread and honey-sweet peaches in the back. He couldn't resist. He poured a paper cup of cooling black coffee and snatched a piece of fruit, intoxicated by the smell.

"You're not from around here," came a soft voice from beside him. Milk-pale skin rose out of a preacher's collar, eyes like spanish moss, lips softer than the peach in his hand and he was transfixed.

"New in town. Father." Even the word felt sinful with the way he met those eyes, and it was just like they saw to his soul.

"Welcome," he said, touching his shoulder, and all of a sudden Ben felt at home.

He had a strong back, so he took field work at first. It was honest, and nights he was so exhausted there wasn't more to think of than his aching body. It was mostly black men he worked alongside, former slaves now freed to little change, and he didn't think much of it. He tried to soften his sharp accent, round vowels and smooth contractions, but it didn't do much good.

What he looked forward to was service. Most of the hands went to service there, but no one thought much if he walked into town in the best clothes he'd brought with him, sit in the back pew and watch the fire and brimstone rain down from young Father Hux. His face flushed redder'n his hair, the preacher raged with a fury that wrenched tears and cries of adulation from his congregants, railing against sloth, greed, and worst of all, against lust.

It cut to the core that Kylo, fully Kylo now, came to watch, so he could take himself in hand later and repeat the worst of the wrath.

The Fourth came around, a holiday he'd loved as a child. His parents, veterans both, had schooled him to take the utmost pride in their victory, in his heritage. The fireworks had set something off in him, something primal that made him want to take arms and rush headfirst into incoming death.

Things were different in Georgia, still sore from the indignity of loss all those years ago, but still they shot fireworks. That much he was thankful for. The whole town gathered 'round the docks to watch a boat in the harbor fire the payload, and he dangled his bare feet in the cool water, eyes on the sky.

Then he wasn't alone. It was the preacher, sitting beside him, easing his shoes off and rolling his black pants up around his thighs. Kylo's gasp was eaten up by the fireworks, thank God, but the slice of ankle, of humanity, was enough to bring all his private indulgences to the fore. Hux's eyes met his, both bursting with firework reflections, and a single finger brushed the back of his hand.

The heat between them wasn't just the night.

On the second floor of the church, up by the bell rope, he pushed at that damned clerical shirt and sucked dark rings into that pale skin, his own dark now by contrast, torched by sunlight. Hux hardly left the church before sundown, and it kept every part of his body nearly sacred.

High, desperate whines escaped his lips as he threaded fingers through Kylo's long hair, tugging him up towards his perfect little nipples, cock traitorously hard. "I see you, when you watch me," he admits, voice breaking as Kylo squeezes down on him. "I've never-"

"I have. Makes me wish you were Catholic, father, dark little room where I could tell you all my sins, make you listen." Not all his sins, true, plenty would put the breaks on all this pleasure.

"No," he pleaded, leaning in to catch Kylo's hungry mouth with his own, letting his lips bruise. "I don't want to think about you, anywhere else, with anyone. Just me."

Kylo groaned hungrily against his mouth, shoving at Hux's trousers, bringing them off in one pull and reaching in to hold his ass tight, forcing their hips together. He teased a finger over his entrance, and Hux bucked, eyes wide and shockingly clear.

"God forgive me," he pleaded, his own hands fighting Kylo's britches to get his cock, moaning in relief as he wrapped a hand around him. He leans into Kylo's shoulder and repeats the prayer, "God forgive me."

Kylo isn't God, though, so he brings his fingers up to suck, spit-slicking them and teasing them in, slow against how impossibly tight the preacher was. Older than him and so untouched, of course he came apart with every twist of his fingers, biting back a scream of adulation as Kylo's fingers hit home. He was panting, hips rolling up in time with his hand, hands seeking for purchase on the untreated wood floor.

"Please," he begged, kicking a foot free so he could wrap a bare leg around Kylo, cock aching between them. "Take me."

He didn't need to be asked a second time, and bit his shoulder through the shirt, trying to tear into his skin as he pushed his cock into the tight heat of Father Hux's ass.

Hux shuddered, groaning in pain but clutched at his shoulders, leg forcing him to stay, to keep going as if the pain was the punishment he deserved for desiring this tall, strong stranger from parts unknown. He rode him until his body relented, until he let Kylo's cock drive home, to slick it's way with precome and it felt natural and vital as breathing. Every moan was a prayer to whatever God would listen now that he'd forsaken his.

In the distance, the last of the fireworks exploded in the sky, and Kylo watched them out the window, the blue and gold painting Hux's skin with impossible color. He looked down at the furiously red cock, beautifully bruised stomach and last piece of his proper uniform, and shoved the last of his rank off, pinning his arms above his head.

"Lucifer," Hux breathed, leaning back in surrender, hips arched high for Kylo's taking, an offering he took full advantage of, every thrust to the hilt. "The most - beautiful - "

Thick ropes of come painted Hux's chest, eyes shut in reverence, and then Kylo was coming, too, face buried in his shoulder and grunting his release with every agonizing thrust, each wringing pleasure out of him.

Long after Hux left, Kylo sat in the empty church, the floor still warm from their congress. He still smelled of him, milled soap and candle smoke, sweet sweat and musky come. Hux would be marked from him, black with bruises and sore, and he'd smell like Kylo if he hadn't already washed it all away. He hoped he hadn't, not yet. That he'd hold onto their tryst a little longer.

The next morning's sermon was more furious than ever.

It didn't stop Father Hux from admitting him the next night at his small home, from taking his cock in his mouth until Kylo could come no more. Or later the next week, letting Kylo pin him on all fours and ease his passage with his tongue before he begged for more. As long as Kylo kept his skin clear above his collar, he let him indulge every perversion, shaking with shame at each novelty until he came to crave it.

"Let's go West," Kylo said into his shoulder, weeks later as he held his lover in his rough linen sheets, candle burning low. "California. Run away."

"Still running?" Hux asked. "I know you're hiding here. I don't want to know what you did."

"I should have moved on from the train line. Gotten myself really safe somewhere."

"But you stayed." Unsaid was, you stayed for me.

"If you don't come with me, I won't leave."

"I can't. There's nowhere else for me. This congregation needs me. I have to keep them from straying - as I have."

holy shit yes

well I'm just a happy and casually aroused duckling sitting over here, dont mind me

Hoooooooooooly shit this is everything I never knew I wanted. I'm a big fan of Southern Gothic (bein' southern it's hard not to) and this is so delightful. Your tone is distinctly in the style of the genre and consistent -- as I read, I could hear every line in a perfect Old Georgia drawl, bravo! I can't wait to read more. :)

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!
I wish I had more words but my thoughts are pretty much a nonsensical, wordless noise that is most accurately portrayed through exclamation marks. I am so into this. So, so into this.

this is everything i never knew i needed, im so excited for more

"Makes me wish you were Catholic, father, dark little room where I could tell you all my sins, make you listen.""

i rly loved this line just so u know, its fucking got me

OP here. I am SO INFINITELY DELIGHTED. Your language is lush and perfect and the rhythm is carrying me along like a river. I love the images you paint and I love the passion. I couldn't have asked for a better fill. This is brilliantly done.

OP, thank you SO MUCH for this prompt. I was sitting down to write something else, and then I came across this and I couldn't keep away from it. The religion thing is always a big one for me, and I loved rooting through my memories of time in the south for inspiration.

this is incredibly well written HOLY SHIT well done. wow

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PROMPT POST #2 - CLOSED

This post is closed to new prompts!

FILL Part 1 Re: Kylux, Southern Gothic

Re: FILL Part 1 Re: Kylux, Southern Gothic

Re: FILL Part 1 Re: Kylux, Southern Gothic

Re: FILL Part 1 Re: Kylux, Southern Gothic

Re: FILL Part 1 Re: Kylux, Southern Gothic

Re: FILL Part 1 Re: Kylux, Southern Gothic

Re: FILL Part 1 Re: Kylux, Southern Gothic

Re: FILL Part 1 Re: Kylux, Southern Gothic

Re: FILL Part 1 Re: Kylux, Southern Gothic

Re: FILL Part 1 Re: Kylux, Southern Gothic