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PROMPT POST #3 - CLOSED

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prompt post one
prompt post two

+ 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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(I got a carried away and wandered a bit outside the realm of the original prompt, I hope that's okay!)

It's not that Poe didn't love sucking cock. Spending more than the occasional day off at the academy on the service side of a glory hole proved that. No, Poe loved sucking cock, but what really got him off was having his face fucked. A few thrusts were pleasant, but what had him coming in his pants untouched was when someone used his mouth and fucked his face hard, making him choke on their dick and then either shooting off deep enough down his throat that he had no choice but to swallow, or pulling out and coming on his face.

He wasn't about to ask Finn to do that though. His new boyfriend wasn't necessarily shy in the bedroom, but he was cautious. He checked in with Poe every step of the way, and asked before doing anything. He'd taken the resistance safe and consensual sex holovids very seriously. And Poe didn't mind. Sex with Finn was lovely and fun and sweet. If sometimes he wanted something a bit different that's what his imagination and right hand were for.

It was unfortunate then that Finn found his filthy porn. "Face fucking?" Finn asked, clearly trying not to burst into laughter.

Poe reached over and tried to tug his pad away from Finn, "You said you wanted my notes on flight simulators."

"I did, that's why I was looking at F," Finn said with a laugh, not giving the pad back. "Hey, I'm not the one who actually labels their porn folders."

Poe liked to be able to find things easily. There was no shame in that, "Alright then, keep scrolling buddy."

Finn turned the pad so Poe could see and leaned against him. "How about we watch porn instead? I've had enough simulators for the day. Let's check out this 'face fucking'" he elongated the k when he pronounced the title, smiling at Poe like they both in on some joke.

"Sounds good, but we don't have to look at that folder. I have other stuff saved," Poe said somewhat desperately as he saw Finn select the folder.

"Blowjobs are fine," Finn said casually as he clicked it, as if he wasn't opening up Poe's shame. "Which ones good?"

Poe pointed at the least violent one. "That ones okay I guess," he said like he hadn't watched it a hundred times. Finn turned it on.

Too late Poe remembered the dirty talk. "You like that you fucking cunt? Nasty slut," a deep voice came from the pad. Poe shot Finn a look but the other man didn't seem scandalized.

It was a messy blow job scene. The young dark eyed smuggler was drooling as he took the officer's cock. The dialogue was almost painfully cheesy, but Poe could see the outline of Finn's hard cock straining against his pants. The scene ended with the smuggler's face covered in cum. The next vid began automatically.

Poe silently cursed as he recognized the opening music. Several men in storm trooper armor approached a lost looking pilot. Poe specifically didn't look at Finn. He stayed perfectly still until he felt Finn begin to shake. He turned with an apology on his lips only to see Finn burst into laughter. "I'm sorry man, but you have the cheesiest taste in porn."

Poe sighed in relief before elbowing him. "Hey, clearly you don't mind it too much," he said looking pointedly at Finn's obvious erection.

"The sex parts are fine, but the plots and dialogue are terrible," he said. They both watched as one of the storm troopers shoved his cock deep into the pilots mouth until he was gagging. Finn's hand came to rest on his thigh as he turned to look at Poe. "So, these 'face fucking' videos seem to live up to their folder title. Is that something you're into, or do you just like the porn?"

Poe swallowed, "I guess you could say I'm into it." Finn's hand trailed up to cup his cock through his pants. "Very into it."

Finn was staring at Poe with a wicked smile. "Into it like you want me to drop to my knees right now or into it like you want to choke on my dick?"

"Fuck," Poe groaned bucking his hips into Finn's hand. "The latter. Definitely the latter.

"Alright then," Finn said, removing his hand from Poe and standing up, "Come on then. On your knees pilot." He was grinning.

"Please, no role playing," Poe said with a laugh even as he slid to his knees. He watched as Finn pulled his cock out. He moaned when Finn grabbed the back of his head and pushed him onto his cock.

"Slap me if I get too rough," he said. Poe nodded and was rewarded by Finn pushing in deeper. After a few testing shallow thrusts Finn began to fuck his face in earnest.

His fingers were tight in his hair as he thrust hard and deep into his throat. Occasionally one of Finn's hands would untangle from his curls and move to his chin, roughly pushing his chin up to take more. Poe gagged when he did, the movement upsetting his rhythm. It was perfect.

He looked up at Finn who was staring back at him with his normal adoring gaze as fucked Poe's face. He knew his own eyes were watering a bit. Finn wasn't holding back. He'd never been harder in his life. He moved his hips, looking for friction while trying to keep his head still. Finn noticed and pushed Poe's thighs open with his leg, pressing his foot against Poe's cock. He began to shamelessly hump into it.

He would have been embarrassed by how quickly he came but he could tell Finn was getting close too. Finn pulled out so just the tip of his cock was in Poe's mouth. Poe sucked on it eagerly. A spurt of salty precum hit his tongue before Finn pulled out completely. He bit back a whine at the loss. Instead of finishing off in his hand like he sometimes did though Finn pushed his cock against Poe's face as he stroked, leaving behind a sticky smear of cum on his cheek. He did this several more times, leaving trails of precum all over Poe's red face. He was still trying to catch his breath when Finn came. He marked Poe's face and neck, getting some in Poe's hair. If he hadn't just come Poe would have been hard again. As it was he was sure that he was going to be masturbating to this moment for months to come.

Finn stroked his hair, looking at him through half closed eyes as he recovered. After a moment he smiled and leaned down to kiss Poe's sticky lips, uncaring of the mess.

"If there's anything else you want to do just let me know."

I'm so thrilled at the emergence of hooker!Kylo fics, and this one is perfect. I'm looking forward to see where you're taking it!

"I believe I owe you a debt," Kylo says. She's standing in Hux's doorway, maskless. Hux briefly stops to consider Kylo's wild and tangled locks, the telling dart of her eyes, the ragged edges of her coarse robe and cape. It makes her look too old, like a witch in a fairy tale. Hux's braids are pulled tight, her hair and boots shiny and smooth.

"What sort of debt?" Hux asks. "Don't tell me you're going to ask your mummy to pay for the console you destroyed?"

Hux sees Kylo grits her teeth. The console was an isolated incident, but it's the kind of thing Hux enjoys bringing up. Just the kind of petty detail she'd use to show exactly how insignificant she considered Kylo. Kylo Ren, scourge of Jedi, breaker of minds? No. Kylo Ren, scourge of wall covering and breaker of computer banks.

"You showed me the consequences of mercy," Kylo says. She peels off her left glove slowly, pulling off the last finger with her teeth. "Now you'll see what you really deserve."

Hux's body twists around below her, her muscles jumping and twitching in ways she can't control. She fights to keep herself from nestling her face into the bed, pressing her torso into the firm mattress. She kicks and kicks but still can't close her traitor legs.

"You waste so much breath on speeches, General. Who do you think you're trying to fool? Words spoken with the Force are powerful. Yours are not."

Hux desperately wants find the word that will make Kylo cringe with shame. It's out there, somewhere, and Hux can only guess. Witch. Monster. Freak. She opens her lips to spit them out at Kylo, but the only thing she can do is growl deep in her throat.

"You think those words would harm me," Kylo whispers. She's holding an arm straight out, fingers glowing with a faint red light in the darkened room. "Words can't harm me. But I can do so much to you like this."

Hux aims a kick at the bed. Her foot twitches.

"Don't try to fight it. You'll only hurt yourself." Kylo glides over to Hux. Hux feels her warm, soft hand slide between her thighs, under her pubis, before Kylo tugs her pants down. Her shirt is next to go, tugged away from her body by claws that pop the buttons and tear the seams.

She wills her body to obey her, strains and cramps to force her legs closed. There's cold, dry air hitting her cunt. If she could just press her legs together, if she could just stop showing her body off to Kylo like a whore, she'd have some kind of advantage.

"Fuck you," she gasps, finally. "You think this means anything to me? I've endured worse than this."

"And you'll endure more." Kylo's soft fingers brush the lips of Hux's cunt, sliding soft trails up the insides of her thighs. Kylo's caressing her, Hux realizes. Like this is some kind of meeting between lovers.

"You think you're going to seduce me?" she spits.

Kylo takes her fingers away. "If you prefer pain, you'll have it." She twists her hand up, and Hux writhes onto her back. "You'll even show me where you like to be hurt."

Oh hell yes!

WowwowYES! But also: Awww. Only Finn and Poe could make face-fucking and facials sort of adorable. Really liked Poe's inner despair and Finn laughing at the trashy cheese but being turned on anyway. Story of my life, buddy.

I'm with Poe on keeping porn folders labelled btw, but DUDE, what kinda organized pervert doesn't know about folder properties > attributes > hidden?? Though I guess it worked out for him lol

This is gold! I can't wait to see what Hux and Kylo are like together, and Bryan the bad boy of accounting! He and Hux should be an interesting combination for sure.

Leia steeples her fingers. "So," she says. "You're surrendering to the Resistance. Why?"

"Not to the Resistance, General Organa. To you."

Leia raises an eyebrow. "And what do you see as the difference here?"

"Not your prisoner. Not your ally." Phasma raises her left hand, palm out like an oath. "The New Republic allows for ways of paying debts. Slavery."

Leia has a horrible vision of herself lying on cushions, holding a chain that leads to Phasma's collar. Of Phasma kneeling before her in nothing but a few scraps of sheer silk and flimsy metal. Blue to match her eyes, Leia thinks, and then she wrenches her thoughts away.

"Monetary debts," Leia corrects her. "War crimes are a different matter."

"Only following orders, General." Phasma's mouth twists in what might be a smile. "The New Republic will argue for years over that. You might not like it. Justice delayed."

"It's not my business to like it. It's my business to stop the First Order from wreaking any more destruction on the planets of the New Republic."

Phasma taps her fingers on the arm of the chair she's in. The chromium gloves knock against the formplast of the cheap furniture. "Exactly." She's breathing heavy, choosing short, simple words so she won't waste her strength.

"Captain, you're free to remove your armor," Leia says.

Phasma's blackened eyes close. "Thanks. It stays."

"That's an order," Leia amends.

"See? Good mistress." Phasma flips switches, her fingers shaking, undoes catches. Her armor drops off and clatters to the floor.

Leia watches as Phasma pulls her chestplate over her head, thick corded arms shaking with strain. Phasma's sweating, drops trickling down her pale arms, down the soft blue markings of her veins. Leia finds herself thinking of Han's tanned skin that never seemed to fade, the bronze of his arms after a single memorable day on a Corellian beach. Phasma is bigger than Han, arms powerful and toned, but the faint pink tone of her flesh makes her look more vulnerable than Han ever was. Leia hands her a bottle of Vitajuice. Phasma takes it without comment, tilting her head back and chugging the restorative fluid. A red drop of the juice trickles down her chin, landing on the hollow of her throat. Leia watches as it runs down Phasma's chest and soaks into the collar of her white undershirt.

"Say I did agree to take you on as an--indentured servant," Leia begins.

Phasma wipes her mouth with her forearm. It's a surprisingly indelicate gesture. "If you want to call it that. It's still what it is." Her voice seems back to normal with the help of the Vitajuice. It's surprisingly light and feathery, even with Phasma's metal-edged tone.

"A slave." Leia winces internally. How can she think of herself as someone who would own a slave? How can Phasma offer something like that so easily? "You're suggesting that you could help me combat the First Order. Call me cynical, but I don't see you offering up sensitive information to us just to avoid a few decades of boredom on a New Republic planet."

"You saw FN-2187 do the same."

"Finn was stolen from his family as a baby. He never had a choice."

Phasma blinks rapidly. Her eyes seem brighter, wet. "Do you think I did? I was a Stormtrooper like him."

"You chose to remain."

"Until now." Phasma sits back in the chair, gripping the armrests. Her eyes are bright, feverish, and she looks like she's bracing for interrogation or a crash landing. "Take me as a slave. Or don't." Her eyes flicker back and forth, locking with Leia's eyes before Phasma drops her gaze to the floor. "I do not complain about that which I need not subject myself. I can at least promise that."

This is so outrageously funny, love it! I hope you post it all on AO3 when it's done.

omg i'm excited about this!

My day = officially made. This was so well-written and sexy. I needed this. Thank you.

This fic has everything I ever wanted oh my fucking god. I'm so excited!

I could actually see the original Star Wars theme being on Awesome Mix Vol 2, it fits the 70s-80s time period!

here we go! :) http://archiveofourown.org/works/6106184

Absolutely. Definitely. Yes and fourthed :)

YES!

Poor Poe! I live in terror of a partner discovering my smut stash. I'm glad they got through it, though, and I love that Finn still gazed adoringly at Poe even as he used him. I was very happy to read this hot filth after the discussion post conversation about Stormpilot usually being too fluffy. >:)

I just went ahead and imagined Hux's mom as low-key Lucille from Arrested Development. She's probably be named Blanche or smth and spikes her lemonade with vodka. Also, I read that meet-cute story somewhere (not my original idea). If someone remembers, I'd appreciate a link to credit it.

---

Ren's late to brunch.

Hux looks across at his mother, a lithe woman given volume by her white tweed dress suit with matching pillbox hat, who is checking her make-up in a compact mirror.

Mrs. Brendol Hux was the symbol of bourgeois female chic: a sophisticated, intelligent and independent modern woman. She was a doctor of astrophysics in her own right but opted for the stylization of Mrs. Hux. Her family was nouveau riche--her father, a former ranch hand, had struck oil. They had money but Mrs. Hux soon realized money was nothing in society without status. For this reason, Hux has always grown up thinking his mother only put up with his father for the right to be called a member of the prestigious Hux family. With her mink coats, diamond bracelets and lavish evening parties, she fancied herself a new age Mrs. Astor.

Hux looks away, checking his watch for the fourth time in the last two minutes. Mrs. Hux wipes away a smudge of lipstick off the edge of her mouth as she speaks. "Darling, maybe you've been stood up, hm?"

"He'll be here, Mother." Hux spits.

"No need to be so vicious, dear." The compact is snapped shut tightly while his mother's eyes meet his with as affectionate of a smile as she can muster, "Dolly, darling," Hux's eyebrows furrowed at the nickname as she continued in an affected childish voice, "It was so sudden, you realize? I hadn't even presumed you were in a relationship. You know, you never tell your poor Mother anything anymore. It's a bad habit, dear."

"I'll try to remember to tell you everything from now on, Mother." Hux gives a forced smile to accompany his sarcasm. "Where is Phasma anyways? She was supposed to be here."

"Oh, who knows where that child ever is?" She throws her hands up in mock defeat, "She didn't even come back for Father's funeral." A small 'tsk' noise escaped her lips as the normally serene face contorts. Her voice goes down to a lower octave, "If only I could have skipped it, too. It was such a drab affair, don't you agree, dear? Oh! And that old hell bat you call a grandmother! Just made it the worst, Dolly. You know, I had some really marvelous funeral ide---"

Mrs. Hux stopped, gazing past her son towards the figure that loomed behind him. To Hux's relief, the hand resting on his shoulder is undeniably Ren's. He's felt it there thousands of times before. Yet when Hux turns to investigate the man who is now uttering a humble apology and kissing Hux's cheek as he sits, Hux doubts this could be Ren. For one, his face is bright and clean-shaven as opposed to the broody atmosphere and stubble that characterized Ren's. Furthermore, this man's hair was cut to a professional length, nothing like Ren's unruly mane.

Over anything else, this man is charming, polite and warm--three adjectives Hux would never use to describe Kylo Ren.

The only confirmation he gets that this wasn't some clever imposter is the dirty look and harsh whisper ("introduce me, you jackass") Ren manages when Mrs. Hux is distracted by her desire to straighten every crinkle on her suit.

After her inspections, Mrs, Hux lets out a nervous giggle as she holds out her hand. "I'm Dolly's mom. Please, no need for formalities, just call me Mother. You're going to be part of the family soon, too...uh..." Mrs. Hux trails off and smiles at Ren again, her gaze wandering to her son. "Darling, you haven't even told me the name of your fiancée yet."

"Ren."

"Ben."

Mrs. Hux laughs nervously, a blush in her cheeks and her voice shrill in embarrassment. "Ren or Ben, darlings? I thought I heard both."

Ren---"Ben"---kicks Hux beneath the table and manages to give him a warning glare without his future mother-in-law seeing. R/Ben takes Mrs. Hux's hand and lays a light kiss on it, "It's Ben, Mother."

"Of course!" Hux's mother giggles again. "Dolly would play nasty little tricks like that when he was a child! He had a nanny from some foreign place or another and he would always say, 'Mother, say this to Ruth!'--that was the nanny's name, you understand--and I would say it." She lets out a laugh as if she found it amusing rather than wholly infuriating as she did then. "Then Ruth would would gasp and say in that sweet, little accent of hers, 'Oh, no, Mrs. Hux, you mustn't say that!'"

R/Ben laughed along with his mother, almost with perfect timing. "Mrs. Hux, I must say, I can't believe you are the mother of an adult man. When I walked up to the table, I thought for sure you were his sister."

"Oh!" Mrs. Hux's nose scrunches up in bashful laughter, "Ben dear, your silver tongue will be the death of me, I just know it! I think I'll excuse myself for a moment. You boys talk amongst yourselves."

As soon as his mother is out of earshot, Hux turns slowly to Ren. The younger man's face has temporarily reverted back to its sullen natural state as predatory eyes ravish the table. Hux couldn't help the incredulous tone of his voice when he finally speaks. "And who the hell are you supposed to be?"

Ren grabs a piece of bread from the center of the table. "Your fiancée, idiot." He takes a bite, "You're paying good money for this. Do you think I half-ass it when it comes to work?"

"No, but I didn't think I would be meeting Ben."

Ren shrugs, finishing off the piece. "Look, that old harpy will be back in two minutes and she's going to ask us how we met." He grabs Hux's lemonade and takes a sip, "How did we meet, Dolly?"

"Whatever happened to no pet names?"

"I don't even know your first name." Ren says finishing off the lemonade and grabbing a mini-quiche off the display. The more Hux thinks about it, the more he realizes that Ren really doesn't know a thing about him yet here he is getting to know his mother in intimate detail. He wouldn't say it was guilt but rather an anger at himself for not prepping Ren better for the job. He figures the least he could do is tell Ren his first name. As soon as he opens his mouth though, Ren cuts him off. "Doesn't matter. Anyways, are you handling the meet-cute or am I?"

"Do you have anything in mind?" Hux asks, glancing at the women's restrooms. "I don't think 'dive-bar glory hole' is going to win Mother over."

"Yeah, asshole, since I knew you didn't think it through." Ren growls while attacking a shortbread cookie, "Listen carefully, okay? When I first saw you, we were both sitting at the gate for a flight we both had to London. You've been to London, right?" Hux nods. "I glance at you often and think, 'He's cute'. When I get on the plane and the seat next to me is empty, and I think, 'Wouldn't it be nice if he ended up sitting next to me?' Well, chance has it that a family wanted to sit together and he offered to switch his seat with the seat that happened to be next to mine. We spent the entire flight discussing everything. But then tragically, our 13 hour flight lands. We exchanged numbers but drifted away until you suddenly send me a drunk text years later meant for another friend. We hit it off like no time had past at all and before we knew it, we were engaged. We were always in different places so we never had the opportunity to meet family."

Hux nods, shocked and impressed. "That'll work."

Hux is right: his mother eats the story right up. Along with the other things Ren is feeding her about degrees in political science and history, fencing lessons as a child, a pilot's license and how they just missed each other on the Riviera last winter. Hux isn't sure who this Ben creature Ren has created is but Hux thinks, judging from the shrill laughter emanating from his mother, that this may actually work.

OP here. i'm crying. This is perfect really really perfect.

OP here again.

"I don't even know your first name." Had me laughing so bad!

On Primeday the General arrives onto the bridge of the Finalizer with a ring of violet bruises peeking coyly above his exactingly turned-out collar and a rolling looseness to his step. His crisp orders are delivered with the faintest grating rasp, which he lingers on deliberately, caressing the softly-husked syllables. Petty Officer Thanisson drops his datapad in his presence, an admittedly routine occurrence, but the General doesn’t even pause to fix him with his usual condemning (ice-cold, vivid) stare.

This is—as the crew of the Finalizer concurs through hasty on-duty whispers, a deeply-encrypted techie groupchat, canteen gossip, and the trooper rumor chain—what can be officially termed a mystery.

It all begins to unravel when Lieutenant Mitaka confesses he was nearly accosted by Kylo Ren on his way to his duty station at 0600, just outside the turbolift to the starboard aft of the ship, where there are absolutely nothing but officers’ quarters and engine rooms. Captain Phasma adds her two cents after, plied with a considerable measure of the command staff’s privately-stashed alcohol, she concedes to hold forth on the General’s own drunken confessions regarding an unwise but compelling romantic entanglement. The intelligence crew, insular bastards that they are, refuse to either confirm or deny the contents of any security recordings, but their inscrutable smiles have taken on the particular smug quality that surfaces only when, as one might expect, something exists to be confirmed.

In the end, however, it’s UT-7035 who breaks it all open. Midweek she charges, unmasked and breathless, into mess hall eight and announces to all and sundry that absolutely no one is to go opening any supply cabinets in sector 17 because the General and the Knight are fornicating in one of them, she doesn’t remember which, but the General really does have a fantastic arse, it has these little freckles, and she hadn’t thought Lord Ren would look like such a fifteen-year-old beneath the mask but his shoulders are simply luscious and who knew the ship had such fantastic soundproofing, really, opening that door was like being assaulted by full-scale Bith operatic production—

—which is when her squad mates take mercy and stuff her lunch into her mouth. She chews furiously, clearly intending to continue speaking. To certain interested parties’ dismay, UT-7040’s more sensible priorities eventually prevail and UT-7035 is convinced to keep her silence, but it’s far too late for any semblance of discretion to remain in the 400 troopers riveted on the single most interesting happening in the course of their careers. By Benduday not a one of the 70,000 odd staff and crew on the Finalizer remains unaware that the General and the leader of the Knights of Ren are, not to put too fine a point on it, fucking.

Thus begins the strangest week of Kylo Ren’s life.

*

The following morning, Primeday once more, Kylo Ren is cornered on the way to the fresher by the gleaming chrome column known as Captain Phasma. Normally he finds Phasma reasonably tolerable, as long as she’s not lecturing him about preserving her worthless disposable minions. At the moment, he is not overlong on patience, seeing as he really needs to piss.

“You and the General,” Phasma opens.

“What,” says Kylo.

“Hurt him and I’ll break you.”

“What?”

“Don’t play dumb, Ren,” Phasma snaps. “The whole ship knows you’re together.”

Fuck, Kylo thinks, recalling Hux’s viciously hissed lecture on discretion.

“Are you listening to me?” Phasma demands, slamming him into the wall in a jangle of armor.

Kylo winces, as much from his jostled bladder as her bruising grip on his shoulders. Nevertheless—“Take your hands off your superior, Captain,” he sneers—he does have a reputation to maintain.

“Keep your hands off yours,” she retorts, and strides away, supremely unconcerned.

Kylo takes a moment to blink at her relentlessly shiny back before recalling that, right, the fresher. Also, he decides, some things Hux really doesn’t need to know.

*

On Centaxday Kylo is startled out of his nightly meditation session by an alert from his door. Kylo is not exactly accustomed to hosting visitors, particularly since Hux prefers his own quarters and has, at any rate, already banished Kylo for the day, citing a truly staggering backlog of administrative foolishness—Kylo’s words, not Hux’s. Nevertheless he fastens his helmet back on and stabs the entrance button so that the door swooshes open and reveals—

“Hux’s little flunkey,” says Kylo. “Why are you here?”

“I’m Lieutenant Mitaka, sir,” says the flunkey, spit-polished from hat to boots but face waxy white and curiously stiff.

“Yes,” Kylo says, drawing out each syllable, “I do remember you.”

“I merely wanted to inform you, sir,” says Mitaka, each word carefully enunciated despite the sweat beading on his upper lip, “that the every individual on this ship has nothing but the utmost respect for General Hux, who embodies in every way the true ethos of the First Order, who shines as an example to us all through his diligence, thoroughness, and pragmatism—”

Kylo presses the button again and the door swooshes shut.

“And we will not hesitate!” Lieutenant Mitaka screams at the top of his lungs. “To provide all due retribution! Should the illustrious efficacy of the General be impaired! In any way!”

Kylo mashes his elbow against the button. The door swooshes open. Kylo extends his hand and catches the miserable little worm in a force choke, watching his eyes roll back, his pallor flush to a deep plum shade, his fingers claw fervently at his precisely-buttoned uniform collar. Eventually he lowers his arm and the lieutenant collapses in a heap, stirring weakly. He steps back, hits the button, and watches the door swoosh shut. After a moment’s reflection he contacts medbay. Hux hardly needs any more excuses, after all, to throw Kylo out of his bed.

*

On Taungsday Kylo wakes up to find a note gouged onto his personal fresher’s mirror in exacting six-inch-high letters as he slept. We know your past, we know where you sleep, and we synthesize toxins that will shrivel your testicles and vaporize your eyeballs in your skull, it reads. Watch your step. Love, Internal Affairs.

Still three-quarters of the way asleep, Kylo puts his fist through the mirror and spends an hour and a half getting shards of glass picked out of his knuckles by an unsympathetic medical droid, then five minutes lectured by an irate on-duty Hux. He would be sorrier, but his punishment that evening leaves him honestly seeing stars.

*

On Zheliday Kylo is minding his own business, practicing his forms in training room 18, when he becomes aware of a swarm of whispers buzzing just outside in the corridor. He’s contemplating taking a lightsaber to the whole damn ship when a trooper scampers in, hands raised in surrender, and begins babbling so rapidly that only at the end of her spiel can Kylo distinguish—

“—so we know really well that you’re insanely powerful and terrifying and kind of magical sir but there’s thousands of us and only one of you, so if leave another mark on the General’s—”

Here another trooper, the rest of the platoon evidently having trailed in for moral support, interjects, “—perfect, swan-like—”

“—neck we’ll mob you like a plague of locusts and strip every last scrap of flesh from your bones. Sir.”

“How do you even know what a plague of locusts is?” Kylo complains, sweeping the lot of them to the side with a wave of his hand. They topple like bowling pins, but continue to stare at him accusingly through their blank white helmets. “Go away!”

The troopers skedaddle.

Swan-like? Kylo thinks, alone once more, recalling the hard lines of tendons and trachea and jugular beneath his fingers, Hux’s face alight with lust and rage and victory, his orgasm packing a punch like a gut shot as it reverberated through the Force and towed Kylo under in its wake. Your general is a kriffing tauntaun.

*

“Your underlings are insane,” says Kylo Ren on Benduday, post-coital and lulled into complacency by Hux’s fingers carding through his hair.

“My underlings are the ideal example of a well-oiled war machine,” says Hux. “Since when did you interact with them outside your disruptive little temper tantrums, anyway?”

“Uh,” says Kylo.

“Ren,” says Hux, hand tightening against his scalp.

“Your crew,” Kylo sniffs, “seems to be under the impression that your lovely neck and delicate virtue need protecting.”

“What,” says Hux.

“Of course I disabused them of the notion,” Kylo adds.

“I’m sure,” Hux says silkily. “Why don’t you prove it to me right here, right now.”

Kylo casts his eyes beseechingly upwards. “What, again?”

*

The third Primeday, the General saunters onto the bridge and immediately commandeers the ship-wide comms.

“Your loyalty,” he proclaims, silence ringing after every word, “is commendable. Your devotion, both to me and the First Order, is the power that will bring the false republic to its knees and the Order to the greatest heights of its glory. And as your commander-in-chief,” he continues, now eking the syllables out between gritted teeth, “I can assure you that Lord Ren is more than adequately in hand, and that your efforts should be devoted whole-heartedly to our righteous cause and our future triumphs. Is that understood?”

“Yes, sir!” chorus the bridge crew, the troopers, the support staff in the bowels of the ship and Phasma with her hand propped against her cocked hip.

“But Hux,” Lord Ren adds, materializing suddenly from wherever he’d been lurking, “belongs to me. And there is nothing swan-like about his neck!”

General Hux rotates, slowly, to seize Lord Ren by the cowl. “Somehow,” the General snarls, “I don’t think you’ve been entirely honest with me. Let's go remedy that, shall we?” He proceeds to drag Lord Ren, staggering, off to parts unknown.

The crew of the Finalizer, daunted but never defeated, gleefully watches them go.

The prompt freeze is over! \o/

You can go prompt here on prompt post 4!

Lmao this is so hilarious

AHAHAHAHAHAHA GENIUS!

I REALLY liked this story, and it ended on the *perfect* note. And yes, I can just *imagine* Kylo Ben saying that Hux is his over ship-wide intercom.

Lovely! Don't forget to post it to the Fill post!

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Page 190 of 220

PROMPT POST #3 - CLOSED

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Fill: Finn/Poe. Cum marking and face fucking

Re: Fill: Hux/Kylo Ren undying Fake Dating/married trope (1)

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Re: Fill: Hux/Kylo Ren undying Fake Dating/married trope (1)

Re: [MINI-FILL] Crossover: MCU character appears

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Re: Poe/Finn, Poe/others - attempted rape, drugs

Re: Fill: Finn/Poe. Cum marking and face fucking

Re: Kylo/Hux - BDSM, subdrop

Fill: Hux/Kylo Ren undying Fake Dating/married trope (2)

Re: Fill: Hux/Kylo Ren undying Fake Dating/married trope (1)

Re: Fill: Hux/Kylo Ren undying Fake Dating/married trope (2)

Re: Kylo/Hux, Kylo getting the shovel talk by the Finalizer crew

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Re: Fill: Hux/Kylo Ren undying Fake Dating/married trope (2)

Re: Kylo/Hux, Kylo getting the shovel talk by the Finalizer crew

Re: FILL: Kylo/Hux/Ben - Dashing