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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.
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+ prompts should not exceed ~250 words.
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Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

You're very welcome, I'm glad you enjoyed it! I saw your prompt and it basically just wrote itself, it's my first time writing Kylux and was surprised at how fast I managed to write this haha. ❤

Edited 2016-03-27 03:59 (UTC)

Aw, this is oddly sweet

That was very cute. I'm glad I read this because Ben|Kylo/Poe is kinda my OTP too.

*___* *incoherent babbling* This is ridiculously hot.

Nice, I like how wedding rings aren't common, but Hux somehow got a pair (while presumably under house arrest??) and had them perfectly sized. An archaic symbol for an archaic law! We have to do this shit right.

I can't help but think is the start of a grander, hilariously-dickish, legal-system-undermining, evil plan -- after all, juries are known to be more sympathetic towards widowers -- but one of these assholes will probably fuck up and not die or catch feelings.

Ummm, not OP, but I fucking loved that! Exactly the kind of mean-on-the-outside still-mean-on-the-inside-but-also-adorably-stupid crack I live for. Holy shit, I sort of hate that you went anon because I want to read everything else you've written. Fave lines:

“Lost your tentacle girls holos, did you?” asked Kylo.
*
“Don’t tell me they’ve diagnosed whatever horrible condition makes you the way you are.”
*
It felt like bitter poison, but he had to say it: “Thank you.”

Please don't hesitate to write more about asshole space cats or about Hux and Kylo being secret best-frenemies.

Wow.

CHAPTER TWO: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6004864/chapters/14596204

OP here. that was so cute that I almost melted. <3

Also cleverly played, cleverly played

Writer here. You know, house arrest sounds so much smarter. Tbh I tried to think of a plausible setting and went, "Fuck it! They're on The Finalizer but they know it's useless to escape something something logic something something impending trial #reasons." **magic hand wave.**

If I decide to add something extra over at a03 I'll tweak it so it makes sense and add a line in about house arrest.

Oh please. Kylo will definitely sprout some 'nonsense' about emulating Darth Vader's legacy and 'it's a sign from the Force'.

I. WANT. 10000000000000000000+

I didn't do ask much with the size kink as I meant to, but I might do a sequel if I find the time. I just love these two and I have no shame. Hope you like!

-----

They hadn't seen each other in months, and it was all they could do not to throw themselves into each other's arms right then and there, in front of the media that were supposed to be interviewing them.

Once the interviews were over, Oscar leaned into his friend’s ear, speaking in a breathy whisper, “God Domhnall, I need to touch you.”

A shiver ran up Domhnall’s spine, then he laughed in an attempt to cover his immediate arousal. It wasn't enough, however, as Oscar had already fixed him with a filthy grin.

“Maybe we should be less obvious in front of the world’s damn media,” Domhnall chuckled as he gestured towards the press line at the other side of the red carpet.

“Good call, buddy,” Oscar replied. “Men’s room?”

“Jesus feckin’ christ,” Domhnall spluttered. “If you think we can get away with it.”

That was the moment Harrison Ford walked into view to a chorus of press and photographers shouting his name, trying to get his attention. It was the perfect out. The pair laughed as they slipped away towards the bathrooms.

Once safely in a cubicle Oscar wasted no time, he wrapped his hands around Domhnall’s biceps and pushed him against the wall with ease. Domhnall moaned happily, he always enjoyed being manhandled by the shorter man. Oscar started to grind his hips against Domhnall’s, teasingly slowly. Domhnall threaded his nimble fingers through Oscar’s neatly combed hair and curled his body around the shorter man so he could pull him in for a kiss. They both sighed in relief as their lips touched for the first time in months.

“I missed you,” Oscar murmured before he surged forward to deepen the kiss. They wrapped their arms around each other as they tried to get as close as possible. They kissed like that for a few moments before they remembered the urgency of the situation. Oscar broke the kiss and his hands flew to Domhnall's belt.

“I missed your skinny Irish ass.”

Domhnall laughed. “Do you ever shut up?”

“I’ll shut up when I get your dick in my mouth.”

Domhnall wined as Oscar’s words went straight to his cock, and he immediately helped Oscar to release his erection from his pants and push them down. Oscar dropped to his knees with a filthy grin, and ran his hands teasingly up his friend’s exposed thighs. He pushed Domhnall’s legs gently further apart, gripped his cock at the base and licked slowly around the head. Domhnall groaned and bucked his hips towards the sinful heat of Oscar’s mouth. Oscar used his free arm to easily pin Domhnall to the wall and keep his hips still.

Oscar pumped his fist slowly up and down the shaft as he sucked the head fully into his mouth, and his tongue played gently with the slit. Domhnall chewed his lower lip and moaned quietly as he threaded his fingers back into Oscar's hair. He really had tried not to pull too hard on his friend's hair, but he couldn't help it, he need Oscar to take him deeper. Domhnall almost apologised until he felt the vibrations of Oscar chuckling around his mouthful. Oscar willingly started to take his cock deeper and deeper until his nose settled into the soft ginger curls at the base. Domhnall's head fell back against the cubicle wall and his hand flew up to cover his mouth as the wet heat of Oscar’s mouth enveloped him.

Oscar, remembering time was of the essence, bobbed his head up and down, quicker and quicker as he tried to bring him to orgasm. He slid his hands onto Domhnall's ass, to release his hips and pull him even deeper. Domhnall bucked his hips desperately as he chased his pleasure. Oscar's finger pressed lightly against the ring of muscles of his entrance. It wasn't long before he was tapping Oscar’s shoulder, trying to warm him that he was about to come. Oscar didn’t pull away, instead he held him still and sucked hard, drinking in Domhnall's release, and he didn't stop until he felt his cock begin to soften.

“Wow,” Domhnall panted as he tried to get his breath back. Oscar pulled off with an obscene pop and licked his cock clean. He tucked Domhnall's cock back into his pants and got to his feet, licked his lips and ran his hand through his own hair.

“Good?” He asked hoarsely, as if he didn't already know the answer. Domhnall gapped at him, momentarily lost for words. He pulled Oscar into a fierce kiss, and tasted himself in Oscar’s mouth. He moaned at the taste and started to move for Oscar’s belt. But he was stopped by a pair of strong hands.

“No time,” Oscar sighed. “Besides, I want to take my time with you, later. There's so many things I’ve been wanting to do to you.”

Domhnall snorted with laughter. “Great, I’m really going to be able to concentrate on the film now. You know it’s not acceptable to have a boner watching a Disney film.”

The pair laughed happily then exited the cubicle, stopping at the mirrors to try and make themselves look presentable. Oscar's hair was a state but was easily rectified, the main problem, however, was that Domhnall's face was still bright red. Domhnall splashed cold water over his face and fanned it was his hands. It was not very effective. Oscar turned to look and him, biting his lip to stop himself from laughing.

“You’re loving this, aren't you, you fucker.”

Oscar laughed out loud this time, then cupped Domhnall's face in his hands. “I’m sorry buddy, it’s not that bad I swear.” He picked up a hand towel and gently dabbed Domhnall's face dry.

“Man, we really gotta go! I’ll go first, wait a couple of seconds okay?” Oscar gave him one last quick kiss and exited the bathroom.

TBC?

Have a sort of fill:
http://archiveofourown.org/works/6388147

I hope you enjoy it, OP.

The stormtroopers all hate Millicent. Even the few of them that like cats (cat people tend to make better officers than footsoldiers, so most of them are naturally dog people) would throw her out an airlock if only they had some assurance it wouldn’t lead to them being tossed out the same way. General Hux tries to keep her in his private quarters, but cats are sneaky, quick things, and Millicent even more so than most. She is always getting out and terrorizing the troops. One moment you would be minding your own business, patrolling your assigned sector, and the next you’d be in a desperate battle for your life against tiny teeth and claws. And it is a battle you have no chance of winning, because any trooper that would dare hurt the general’s pet gets an extra harsh bout of reconditioning. Everyone knows the cat likes to lurk behind corners, just waiting for innocent victims to pass by, but there is no real way to avoid her.

Just like there is no way to avoid the smell. Every time Millicent gets out in the main part of the ship, it seems to be her personal mission to claim every room as her own. Any trooper who happens to be too close when an officer notices that Millicent has marked her territory nearby has the misfortune of being immediately changed to sanitation duties. Because it is not as though General Hux can be expected to take responsibility for his own cat’s misbehavior. He has much more important things to do, and there are plenty of people around to clean up his messes for him.

Hello lovelies! Thank you for all the wonderful comments. I'm here with the AO3 link (sex scene included) and to announce that I'm working on a sort of sequel with poor Poe and the Flaurions.

Link: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6390187

this fill is beautiful and you are beautiful anon

thank you for blessing us with this dirty-hot bathroom sin

OP loves it, and thanks you very much for taking the time to write such a long and wonderful fill for it. It's more than I would have ever hoped for!

A/N: Dear OP, this went wildly off the rails and ended up a lot more shunga than hentai (“Dream of the Fisherman's Wife,” anybody?), and the talking-to-porn ratio is all wrong, but oh well. All of the species mentioned in passing are canonical, but Iffrians are 100% my own invention, so if anybody's wondering about X'arrn, he's, uh, some kind of sentient, Basic-speaking, amphibious cephalopod who may or may not closely resemble an octopus. Did I spend too much time researching octopus sex? Uh, probably. Sorry not sorry, cephalopods are hella cool.

***

Poe's usually refreshingly straightforward when discussing his sex life, so it catches Finn by surprise when he asks if Poe's got plans for his off-shift and Poe looks uncomfortable about it.

“Finn, I'm sorry buddy, but, uh, X'arrn needs me tonight.”

“Who? Wait, X'arrn the intel analyst, with the tentacles?” Poe nods, and Finn blinks. “I didn't know he did humans. Huh.”

“He mostly doesn't, but Iffrians have, like, a cyclical fertility thing, and when the gametes are ready, they gotta do something with 'em, or they start to – never mind, it's super gross, but the upshot is that X'arrn is a friend of mine who has a legitimate medical need that I'm happy to help him address, and tonight's the night.”

Poe sounds kind of defensive, like maybe this is one of those sex things that people get weird about, but it makes perfect sense to Finn. Finn's been … rearranging his position, a little, on whether regularly having sex is really as much of a health concern as the First Order made it out to be, but even so, that seems totally normal even for the Resistance, helping a friend out like that. X'arrn seems like a nice guy – he's sat in on a bunch of Finn's intel sessions about the Order – and he's definitely the only Iffrian on the base, and it would be really lousy if nobody gave him a hand with his … fertility thing, whatever it is.

It has occurred to Finn, vaguely, that the nonhumanoid, non-human-attracted members of the Resistance must also have their needs and take care of them somehow, but he hasn't really considered it in detail – they're not really in his pool of partners and he's not in theirs, or so he had assumed until right this minute. And now that he thinks of it, X'arrn is really kind of – well, pretty seems like the wrong word somehow, but he's definitely really cool-looking, with all the bright colors and patterns and the way they shift depending on the mood he's in, and about those tentacles, um, wow. That's – what would that look like? How would that feel?

“Huh,” Finn says again, articulately, and Poe's definitely looking at him a little warily now, like he's expecting Finn to say something obnoxious.

“No, uh, that's cool, that's totally fine, I'll ask someone else,” Finn says, trying to reassure Poe that whatever negative reaction he's apparently expecting will not be forthcoming. And then, because Finn's still hung up on the vague but still frankly distracting mental image of X'arrn's vivid, slick-shining skin against Poe's and he's not censoring himself well at the moment, what comes out of his mouth next is “How does that work, though?”

The look Poe gives him is a little incredulous, and yeah, in retrospect that was a little embarrassing, that's definitely the kind of thing people don't really ask each other. Oops. But then again, Poe's usually pretty okay about letting Finn ask that kind of question, so this is probably salvageable.

“Sorry, sorry,” Finn says, “I didn't mean that in a rude way, I just – wow. That's – ” Poe's kind of squinting at him now, color rising in his cheeks, looking somewhere between confused and pissed off. Might as well go for broke. “That's – really hot, like, as a concept, I just literally don't know how to picture it.”

“Oh,” Poe says, expression clearing a little. “It's, uh. Mostly not like the porn, actually. But it's a good time.”

“There's porn of that?” Finn says, definitely too enthusiastically, and Poe laughs.

“There's always porn of it,” he says. “No matter what it is, there's always porn. Although actually, if you're curious … ” He trails off, tone considering. “Betcha X'arrn wouldn't mind if you watched.”

Finn gulps. He's suddenly feeling extremely warm.

“Really?”

“I mean, I can ask him, but he'll say yes. He's kind of an exhibitionist. Half the colors he turns are just because he likes the attention.” Poe grins. “Whaddaya say, wanna watch?”

Finn is sweating a little now, and he's – yeah, okay, a little embarrassed, but that's mostly just because they're in the kriffing mess, and he doesn't want to have to get up and clear his tray with his dick half-hard in his pants.

“Uh, yeah,” he says. “I mean, if X'arrn's cool with it, and if you don't mind being watched.”

Poe smirks.

“Buddy, I do not mind in the slightest.” He pulls out his commpad and taps out a quick message. “There, question asked.” He gets up and takes his tray and Finn's, but leaves the pad on the table, so Finn sees just how quickly the response comes back.

“We're on,” Poe says, when he comes back and reads the message. “Twenty-one-hundred, Besh-block freshers. All the amphibious personnel are in Besh, they have an immersion tank over there.” He pockets the comm and stands up again. “Gotta go, but I'll see you then, huh? Or, uh, comm me if you change your mind, it's fine.”

And yeah, okay, Finn's nerves are maybe just slightly fizzing at the moment, but that's mostly anticipation, so he shakes his head. “No, I'll be there. Wouldn't miss it.” Poe grins at him, and he grins back, and kriff, Finn is going to have to sit here for at least another five minutes before he's decent enough to get up and walk anywhere, and also, how the hell is he supposed to kill time until twenty-one-hundred now that he knows he's got plans?

As it turns out, the answer to that question is 'trawling the pilots' semi-illicit porn collection for anything involving tentacles, and guiltily watching little snippets of it.' There's one with two Rylothians and an elastiplast rathtar just convincing enough to be unsettling instead of comical, and that one's frankly kind of horrifying, but there's another one with a Quarren performing really impressive oral sex on a Human, and another with an Iridonian and some unidentifiable humanoid who turns out to be an especially creative Clawdite, and those are, uh, pretty interesting, but none of it's really inspiring in the same way as Finn's recurring but still nonspecific mental image of Poe writhing under the touch of X'arrn's vivid limbs, and Finn eventually gives up in more than one kind of frustration and plays dejarik – badly – against his datapad and tries not to check the chrono too often.

When it's finally time, Finn's on edge and more nervous than he'll admit to – he's seen an awful lot of sex, sure, but he's never been invited specifically to watch it, privately, and there's probably etiquette for that that he doesn't know. On top of that, he still doesn't really know what to expect, and what if it's actually as weird and gross as Poe apparently thought Finn would think it was? Speaking of etiquette, it's probably really rude to show up to something like this and then get weirded out by it.

But Finn said he would be there, and honestly he's too curious not to, so he grabs his wash bag like he's just going for a 'steam and heads over to Besh block. Poe's already there, scrubbing down in one of the sanisteam cubicles, but otherwise it's oddly empty.

“Nobody else is going to come in,” Poe says, when the spray cuts off and he emerges and sees Finn stripped down to his shorts and glancing around awkwardly. “X'arrn will put a sign on the door when he arrives, but he reserved the tank, nobody's going to interrupt.”

Finn was expecting something kind of like a bacta tank, but the apparatus plumbed into the wall next to the sanisteam cubes is shorter, a little lower than hip-height, with a rectangular footprint a little bigger than a bunk, a broad lip around the rim and three glossy white walls and a clear window for the fourth. There's a cover, too, but it's off, propped on the floor, and the whole thing it slowly filling with water. From the look of the tech, Finn's guessing it's Calamarian, and Poe confirms it.

“The Mon Calamari export these things to pretty much everywhere they go,” he says, muffled by the towel he's scrubbing at his hair with. “They use upright tanks on their ships to save space, but planetside, these are better. You can float in 'em horizontally, for one thing, and you can get more than one person in at a time.”

The door slides open, and the hum of a hoverchair resonates weirdly on the tiles.

“Hey guys,” X'arrn warbles, and Poe grins. Finn ventures a wave, and X'arrn waves back with two limbs, dappled violet and green. Finn can feel himself flushing, and is suddenly intensely grateful that he doesn't colorshift. How the hell do you act casual when your skin gives you away like that?

“Hey X'arrn,” Poe says, apparently at ease. “How're you holding up?”

“Sore, frustrated, and cranky,” X'arrn replies, and shifts to a muddy green-and-yellow marl. “Kriffing biology, what a pain. No offense, Poe.”

“Fair enough, none taken,” Poe says, and shrugs, draping his towel around his neck. “Tank's almost full, and I'm ready when you are.”

“Great,” X'arrn says, and hovers over to the tank. “I'm just gonna soak for a minute, okay? This kriffing climate, I swear, I don't know how the Mon Cal contingent deals with it.”

“Could be worse,” Poe says, and Finn knows this one, knows the punchline, but he doesn't say it.

“Could be Hoth,” X'arrn rejoins, right on cue, and eases over the lip of the tank in a controlled slide that's a lot more graceful than Finn would have expected from the ungainly-looking bulk of his body, which – tentacles not included – is nearly the size of a human torso, only squishier. There's not even a splash, and through the tank wall, Finn watches as X'arrn's whole body seems to swell and unfurl as he pulls water through himself and stretches. There's … a lot more of him, with the buoyancy holding him up; he has some kind of internal structure that he sort of sags off of, when he's out of the water.

X'arrn must see Finn looking, because he points one large, slit-pupiled eye right at Finn and very deliberately winks, and he ripples, vermilion and purple stripes unfurling across his mantle and down his limbs, frills Finn didn't even know he had suddenly sparkling a brilliant, iridescent plasma blue. Finn flushes harder, but he manages to smile back, and after a moment, X'arrn snakes three limbs up over the rim of the tank and drags himself up, spitting water and sucking air until he's got enough positive buoyancy to keep his face above the surface.

“Show-off,” Poe says, when X'arrn's auditory membranes are above water, and X'arrn makes a noise which doesn't have any direct analogue that can be vocalized by Humans, but is unmistakably equivalent in meaning to pthbbt.

“That's kind of the point, Dameron,” X'arrn says. “Or aren't you here for a show, Finn?”

Finn blinks.

“I, uh. Yes? If that's still okay with everyone?”

X'arrn shrugs eloquently through the tank wall with another four of his tentacles.

“Fine by me,” he says. “Poe?”

“My idea,” Poe says easily, tone light, but there's a thread of tension in his posture that Finn wonders about, just a little.

“You sure, Poe?” Finn asks, and Poe grins, maybe a little too brightly, and nods.

“Gonna be fun,” he says, and okay, he sounds like he does mean it even if he looks a little nervous.

“So Finn, here's how this is going to work,” X'arrn says. “I'm going to dose the tank with this stuff – ” he plucks a small vial out of a storage compartment on the hoverchair and gestures with it – “to help convince my tedious species-essentialist reproductive system to play along. I'm going to get, uh, somewhat high, feel Poe up really thoroughly, and try to fit as much of me inside him as seems safe, and at some point in there, I'll expel my – I'll come, let's go with that. Poe's going to keep his head and shoulders above water, come his brains out, and try not to scandalize all of Besh block.”

“No promises,” Poe says, and X'arrn rolls his eyes. It's a very effective gesture; they're very large eyes.

“I said try. Finn, were you just going to watch, or did you want to participate?”

“Just watch. Is it okay if I – ” Finn gestures vaguely to his groin. “I'll keep it out of the water.”

“Sure, go for it,” X'arrn says.

“Poe?”

“Knock yourself out,” Poe says, maybe a little doubtfully, like he thinks maybe Finn's not going to want to. Which, to be fair, Finn was a little worried about earlier, but that's looking less and less likely as the situation develops, because X'arrn is a) really cool to look at and b) seems pretty cool in general, and Poe looks as good naked as he always has, or maybe more so with his hair all damp and curling. Finn wants to reassure him, but he doesn't know how to do it without saying something kind of embarrassing and/or sleazy, so he just smiles and quirks his eyebrows.

“I might,” he says. “Tile's pretty hard,” and Poe's crack of laughter and X'arrn's amused burble echo a little in the empty room, and Finn chuckles along with them, pleased to have diffused the moment of tension.

“All right, let's get this show on the road,” Poe says, when the laughter subsides. He steps up and slings a leg over the rim of the tank, sliding into the water a lot less gracefully than X'arrn did, groaning a little as he slips lower into the water. He rolls up his towel so it supports his neck, and leaves his arms spread along the rim like it's the back of a couch. Finn lays down a folded towel and settles on the floor so he can watch through the tank wall as X'arrn rearranges himself around Poe's half-floating legs, tentacles curling and coiling, shifting orange and green and indigo and more of that brilliant blue.

“Ready?” X'arrn asks, vial poised, and Poe stretches a little, settles himself, gets comfortable.

“Yeah,” he says, and cuts another glance down and over at Finn. Finn smiles back, hopefully in a reassuring way, but then they both get pretty distracted, because that's when X'arrn trails four or five tentacles up Poe's body, and Poe's breath catches and turns into a very quiet hum of pleasure, and Finn's breath stops for a moment, because kriff that's a sight, sinuous shimmering flesh tracing the lines of Poe's muscles as Poe tenses and shudders under the touch.

There's a faint cloudiness in the water, coiling out of the vial, and X'arrn expels air from his body and sinks, pulses, drawing the clouds through himself and jetting them out of his vents. His mantle trembles and goes dark from the edges inward, colors shifting and shimmering over blue-black like an oil slick on duracrete, and as it bleeds down his limbs and up his body, his frills start to glow faintly blue.

He pulls himself closer to Poe, twining half a dozen tentacles tightly around him and letting the rest of them wander, touching more firmly now, and Finn doesn't know where to look, because there's too kriffing many of them and every one of them is touching something he'd be happy to stare at. Or he could look at Poe's face, which is – he darts a glance up, leaning so he can see – stunned, and stunning, eyes closed, mouth open around a soundless, shuddering sigh.

As Finn watches, Poe's eyelids go suddenly from fluttering to shut-tight, and he makes a haa-ah noise that rings loud off the tile. When Finn looks back down to see what that's about, he finds that X'arrn has wrapped the thin end of a tentacle right around the base of Poe's junk, cock and balls together, pretty firmly from the looks of it, and he has another tentacle spiralling up the shaft, shifting delicately. As Finn watches, two more tentacles work their way slowly and methodically up the milk lines of Poe's abdomen, from his groin up to his nipples. Finn can't quite see what X'arrn's doing – something with his suckers, maybe? - but whatever it is, it makes Poe throw his head back and moan, and his whole body moves with it, spine arching, legs tensing. He quiets fast – trying not to scandalize X'arrn's neighbors – but his breath stays ragged, and there's a fine sheen of sweat on his shoulders when Finn looks up.

X'arrn swivels one eye around – they're more protuberant underwater, he practically has eyestalks under neutral buoyancy – to look right at Finn, and he winks again, and flashes a constellation of glowing freckles, and Finn grins back at him, looks up at Poe's close-eyed, pleasure-slack face and then back to X'arrn, grins wider, flashes him a thumbs-up. Finn doesn't know what smug looks like on an Iffrian – or 'kind of high' or 'desperately horny' for that matter – but X'arrn ripples his mantle and frills showily, lights cascading down his limbs, and wraps himself even more thoroughly around Poe's thighs and hips, body pulsing erratically.

One of the tentacles, one of the further-back ones that X'arrn usually keeps curled neatly under himself when he's in his chair, draws back from where it's been caressing Poe's torso and gathers, tidy as a coiled cable, in the space between Poe's parted thighs. Finn swallows hard, finds his lips parted and his mouth dry, because he knows where that's going, and he can't wait to see it happen. He drops a hand to his crotch, finds himself hard and aching and knows that he's been that way for a while, but he drags his hand away almost immediately. He can wait, this is only going to get better. He watches, avid, openmouthed, forehead almost pressed against the tank, as X'arrn rearranges himself, gets a grip on the tank with the suckers of a few limb-tips and uses it to rearrange Poe as well, spreading his legs, bending his knees a bit, supporting some of his weight.

The first delicate touch of the tentacle against Poe's ass makes Poe gasp, and his breathing stays uneven. Finn hears the exact moment when X'arrn starts to push, though, because Poe sucks in a sudden breath and holds it a moment, then lets it bleed out of him slowly, just like he does when it's Finn pressing into him. X'arrn's still got two tentacles around his cock, but they're not moving now, just holding him as X'arrn eases in and in and in. X'arrn's pretty elastic, no part of his limbs really has a fixed diameter, though they're obviously thinner at the tip and wider near the mantle, and that particular limb is particularly slender at the moment, no thicker than one of Finn's fingers but longer and softer and prehensile, and as Finn stares, it just keeps going. Finn can't quite see where it enters him – though, stars, he'd love to – but he can see the part that's still outside shifting, pulsing, disappearing up into him in smooth, careful little pushes that make Poe pant and gasp and stifle little bitten-off ahs and nnhs.

As dissimilar – as alien – as X'arrn's anatomy is to his own, Finn thinks he can definitely read something in X'arrn's body language, arousal or the effort of patience or both. The tips of all twelve of his limbs are shifting and curling restlessly, against the tank or against Poe, and if the one up inside Poe is doing the same, kriff, that's gotta be an experience. X'arrn's eyes are nearly closed, wide-blown pupils just visible through the slitted outermost lids and the layered membranes beneath, and he's going blue-white around the edges. His vents clench and flare fast and rhythmic with the water he's pulling through himself, and the oxygenator in the corner of the tank blinks yellow and kicks onto a higher setting.

It's fascinating, and strangely, deeply erotic, but when Finn looks up at Poe again, he has to, has to drag himself to his feet for a closer look, because Poe is gone on it, eyes shut tight and mouth a silent shout, and he's gripping the rim of the tank hard enough to throw all the muscles in his arms and shoulders into taut and trembling relief.

“Stars, Poe,” Finn breathes. He doesn't say it on purpose, it's like it just falls out of him with the air that rushes unbidden out of his lungs at the sight, and he regrets it immediately when Poe's eyes fly open and fix on his face, wide and startled.

“Finn,” Poe croaks, and Finn nods dumbly and swallows hard.

“Stars, Poe, look at you,” he says, feeling more than a little stupid, but Poe makes a little noise in his throat that sounds like encouragement, or at least doesn't sound like 'shut up,' so he keeps talking. “You look so good right now, you should see yourself, you should see X'arrn, you're beautiful.”

Poe blinks up at him, and maybe he's blushing or maybe he's just flushed from warm water and sex, but he tips his chin down far enough to swallow hard once, twice, and rasp, dry-mouthed, “Tell me.”

So Finn looks down Poe's body, down into the water at the ripple-warped sight of what X'arrn is doing to him, and tells him, just lets the words roll out, low and quiet and steady, murmuring in Poe's ear like he's telling secrets. Finn talks until he runs out of words for it, probably repeats himself a lot anyway, pets Poe's hair and strokes his shoulders and cradles the back of his skull while he arches and shudders and gasps, winding tighter and tighter until he finally shakes through an orgasm so protracted it leaves him boneless and borderline incoherent.

“How does it feel?” Finn asks, when Poe's breath steadies a little and he's floating slack, Finn's arms wrapped around his chest, taking his weight so he can shake out his neck and shoulders.

“It's like – ” Poe starts, and takes a ragged breath, lets his head fall back against Finn's shoulder. “Kriff, Finn, it's like nothing else, I can't – ” Underwater, X'arrn loses patience, shifts again, pushing and pulling, reorienting himself and Poe along with him, and Poe has to shrug Finn off and roll himself over so his head's pillowed on his arms. “Mmh, better. But I – nnh, okay, it's.” He stops, groans deep in his throat as X'arrn picks up the pace again, break over. “It's,” he tries again, through gritted teeth. “He's in so deep, and the way it moves, it's ind – hah – indescribable, I can't – oh kriff, two, that's – .” He gives up on talking for a bit, stifles himself against his forearm and groans through his nose, and Finn just holds him through it, craning his neck to see what X'arrn's up to and trying desperately to ignore his own arousal, which is far past 'aching' and well into 'consuming need'.

What X'arrn's up to now is fucking Poe in earnest, which Finn could have guessed from Poe's reaction and also the way the shift and surge of X'arrn's body is making the water slosh back and forth, but it's a hell of a sight to see. He's still mostly a deep, deep indigo, stark against the white of the tank and against Poe's golden-brown skin, and he's not iridescing anymore but he's starred all over with erratic clusters of vivid, sparkling color and light. His mantle billows and flares, his limbs bunch and twist with a kind of elastic but implacable strength that couldn't be more different from the delicate elegance he started out with. Most of him is wrapped around or plastered against some part of Poe, shifting restlessly against him, but he's still got a hold on Poe's cock too, presumably not as crushing as his grip elsewhere, and he's worked the tip of a second tentacle in alongside the first and it looks like he's doing something with a third, maybe just touching.

Finn only means to lean forward and see if he can get a clearer look at Poe's ass, at how X'arrn's fucking him – it's a better position, he'd be able to see everything perfectly if the ripples on the surface didn't break it up so much but he's just getting these fractured glimpses, it's maddening – but when he does, he accidentally nudges Poe in the cheek with the erection he's been stalwartly ignoring, and Poe drags his eyes open and blinks up at him.

“Let me,” he says, and drags in a breath, lets his eyes fall shut again. “C'mon, I want,” he manages, and licks his lips and tilts his head, and kriff, Finn's not made of stone.

“Gonna come, like, right away,” he warns, thick-tongued, voice rough to his own ears, but he's already pushing down his sticky shorts, letting his dick rest against Poe's cheek, and just that is almost, almost enough.

“Yeah, c'mon,” Poe gasps, and he clings to the tank with one hand and gets the other one on Finn's hip, dragging at him clumsily, and fine, fine, Finn can take a kriffing hint. He gives himself a quick squeeze, guides himself into Poe's open mouth, and then plants both hands on the rim of the tank and locks his elbows, his knees, tightens all the twinging muscles down his back in an effort not to thrust.

It's over almost immediately anyway. Poe drags Finn in and gets in maybe half a dozen artless, sloppy-tongued sucks before he suddenly groans, and then Finn groans, and then Finn's coming hard, hard as he can ever remember and fighting to keep his eyes open through it. He pulls out the first instant he can manage it, still trembling with it, because Poe's stiff and shaking and he's shouting, a loud and ragged aah that echoes off the tiles and rings in Finn's ears, and the water in the tank sloshes hard enough to splash up and over the lip, over Poe's back and shoulders and Finn's legs, and then slowly, slowly settles back toward stillness.

They stay like that for a long moment, long enough that the water's almost gone still again, Finn still braced against the tank, Poe slumped there between Finn's hands, head pillowed on one arm, the other draped slackly over the edge. He looks wrecked, Finn thinks distantly, wrung out, absolutely exhausted, and Finn doesn't feel much better himself, which means that getting back to their own bunks is going to be a task and a half. He's just scraping together his thoughts with a mind toward maybe eventually saying so when Poe shifts a little and makes a quiet noise of discomfort.

“Kriff,” he says, and blinks blearily up at Finn. “That was – kriff.”

There's a quiet bubble-and-squirt noise as X'arrn surfaces behind Poe.

“Thanks,” he says, weirdly gurgly, harder to parse than usual, and trails a tentacle gently across Poe's back, just above the waterline. Finn's never heard an Iffrian sound groggy before, but that's indisputably what he's hearing.

“Anytime,” Poe mumbles. “You good?”

“Yeah, I'm good, got it done. Gonna flush the tank and sleep here, I think. You okay to get home?”

Poe tries standing up, slowly and carefully.

“I'll make it,” he says, and stretches. He's covered in sucker-marks, bands and trails of livid red and purple dots. “That was – thanks, X'arrn. That was something else.”

“Good time all around?” X'arrn asks, and gropes for the tank controls, vents flexing and whistling in what's probably an Iffrian yawn.

“Definitely,” Finn says. “Seriously, I – wow. Just … wow. Thanks.”

“No problem. Get Poe home to bed okay and we'll call it square,” X'arrn says, and does something to the tank controls that makes a pump kick into action, fresh water rushing in as the old is siphoned away. Poe yelps.

“Cold,” he says, accusingly, and X'arrn shrugs.

“Go to bed, Dameron,” he says. “I can't sleep in water this warm. G'night, Finn.” He subsides onto the floor of the tank in a tangle of pale, blue-freckled limbs, and to all appearances falls asleep on the spot, vents flaring gently, limbs still.

“Ugh,” Poe says, looking from X'arrn to the controls to the wall of the tank, and yelps again when X'arrn snakes out a tentacle to poke him. “Fine, I'm going.” He drags himself over the rim of the tank, ungainly, and stands swaying next to Finn. “Come on,” he says, “definitely time for bed,” and Finn really can't help but agree.

“That was a hell of a thing to watch,” Finn says some time later, when they're clean and dry and lying in Poe's bunk together. Finn's flat on his back in deference to the muscles that cramped up from all the leaning and floor-sitting, and Poe's wrapped around him in a tangle of slack limbs and blanket that'll be uncomfortable in ten minutes but is perfect right now. With a groan of effort, Poe raises his head to look at him.

“In a good way?” he asks, and then frowns, apparently at himself. “Sorry, it's just – people can get really weird about it sometimes, even if they're also into it.”

“That was amazing,” Finn tells him, utterly sincere. “Totally kriffing amazing, you're amazing, I couldn't even believe it. You have to tell me all about it, sometime when you're, you know, able to say words.”

“It's not all fun and games,” Poe says, laying his head back down with a sigh. “I'm gonna be shitting spermatophores for a day and a half.”

“Poor you,” Finn manages, straight-faced and level-voiced, and he even gets a condescendingly soothing pat on the shoulder before his composure breaks and Poe's does too, and they laugh until Pava next door throws a shoe at the wall, and stars, could this night be any more perfect? Finn's pretty sure, as he drifts off, that it couldn't.

Daaaaaaayuuuum! That was hot! The descriptiveness with fascinating!

yes yes yes! this was amazingly hot all around, and Finn's fascination is so hot and so sweet.

Daaaaammmmnnnn

Just... wow. I opened this fill by mistake and holy hell, I'm so glad I did!! I didn't know I liked tentacles until I read this. All the wasted years.

This is absolutely amazing! Solid good fic right here! Well done!

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