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PROMPT POST #5 - CLOSED

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+ 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.
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+ Use 'Any' when prompting for any pairing at all (eg Kylo/Any or Any/Any)
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+ Warn for common triggers, please
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+ 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
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OP

I'm screaming right now but 1) poor little baby ; ; thinking his father is scared of him and not understanding why ; ^ ; (although granted "...the boy has gone silent but there is an intent to his expression that looks horribly out of place for a small child" is scary as shit dude), 2) super excited to see a still-unstable-but-strangely-good-parent Kylo that feels like how he might actually react to a kid in his care, 3) TENATIVE COOPERATION YES, 4) mmmmmhmmm I definitely sense some jealous Kylo. Finn is probs the only one in that little family that likes Poe at this moment haha

Wow I never knew that I wanted this until just now.

Ooh I really liked this. It might be short but it packs a good punch.

Anon, I love you and I love this prompt.

*pitches tent*

I am loving this. Hate that I stumbled upon it before it finished (I'm so so bad at waiting), but can't wait for the next update. :)

Finn knew fear.

He knew the sudden trepidation of realizing that wasn’t what he’d always believed himself to be; that there were things that he wouldn’t – couldn’t – do, even if not doing those things would more than likely get him killed. He knew the adrenaline fueled panic of fleeing from the only home he’d ever known, really burning his bridges by taking with him a valuable prisoner. He’d experienced the horror of thinking that he was going to die anyway; of plummeting towards the ground yet still believing it had been worth it. He knew the bone – deep terror of actually running for his life – and running, and running, until worry for someone else finally forced to him to run towards the thing he feared most. He knew the fury that was fueled by the fear for another person’s life.

Finn knew fear.

Once he woke from his coma, thrashing and crying out for Rey, unable to stop until he was forcibly held down; once he had calmed enough to understand that he was safe, that Rey was alive and on a mission to find Luke Skywalker, that he would heal and become an official part of the Resistance; once he was left alone with his back aching and his thoughts whirling, Finn got to know a new kind of fear. The fear that came with waking, sweaty and disoriented, the image of his best friend’s dying face etched into his mind. Kylo Ren killed Rey over and over in his dreams, and there was nothing that he could do about it. There was no outrunning nightmares, no saving himself from the myriad ways his mind decided to torture him in the dead of night.

Eventually, the nightmares did diminish, in part due to Rey’s return. Once she had found Skywalker, she had done her best to get him to return with her, and being Rey, she succeeded. They were back on base within a month, and her real, living presence went a long way to keeping the awful dreams at bay.

The other reason Finn began to remember what pleasant dreams were like was Poe Dameron. He had been with Finn nearly every step of the way to his recovery, from waking in the med bay to physical therapy to beginning the process of integrating him into life on D’Qar. He’d become so much a presence in Finn’s life that after a while, Finn began to feel as though he’d always been there.

Shortly after Rey’s return, Poe was sent on an information retrieval mission, and Finn was reintroduced to his old friend, fear. Still uncleared for any real duties, he took to pushing himself harder and harder in physical therapy, until sweat would pour down his face and his body felt like one giant ache. He would fall into bed exhausted and wake up some time later with a scream lodged in his throat, visions of Poe’s lifeless body playing behind his closed eyes, doing his best to calm himself and failing utterly.

When Poe returned, Finn was one of the first to welcome him back. Seeing his friend whole and grinning at him caused the fear to retreat, and when Poe happily returned the hug that Finn couldn’t help but pull him into it disappeared completely, to be replaced with something else, a swooping, fluttery feeling that only intensified when Poe pulled back with a smirk and a “miss me?”

“Yes,” Finn said, and Poe’s smirk turned into a grin. Unbearable fondness filled Finn at the sight and he couldn’t stop himself grinning back if he’d tried.

Soon enough Poe was pulled away from him by others; he had quite a few friends and they all wanted to greet him and share in his exuberance. Finn didn’t blame them. He stepped back easily, happy to watch as Poe laughed and joked and generally basked in the knowledge that he had been missed.

“Looks like you are the one with the cute boyfriend,” Rey said, nudging him. Finn had been so focused on Poe he hadn’t even seen her approach.

He beamed at her. “Not yet, but maybe.”

Finn stood outside of Poe’s room later that evening, wiping sweaty palms on his trousers. “I can do this,” he whispered, and he knew it was true. He was nervous, so very nervous, but he wasn’t afraid. He knocked.

Poe opened the door, grinning widely when he saw who it was. “You really did miss me,” he said with a laugh, and Finn nodded seriously. Poe shook his head, his cheeks pinking. “Too honest for my good, buddy,” he muttered, then motioned Finn inside.

Finn stepped inside. “Yeah, well, I’m about to get even more honest.”

Poe raised an eyebrow, and Finn went on before he could open his mouth and make some sort of flip remark.

“I love you.”

Poe’s eyes went wide. His mouth opened, shut, opened again. “What?”

Finn smiled at him. “I love you. I think I have for a while, but I just realized it today, and I wanted you to know.” He shrugged. “I knew I couldn’t tell you in front of everyone, whether you feel the same or not. It’s not really something you say for the first time in front of a bunch of people. And it’s okay if you don’t love me – well, no, it’ll suck, but I’ll get over it. I just…” He trailed off as Poe stepped closer, his hands raising to settle at his waist.

“Oh, I definitely feel the same,” he replied, voice low. It sent a pleasant shiver down Finn’s spine. “Been trying to work out how to tell you, actually.”

“Huh. Well, that’s good,” Finn said, a little nonsensically, but that really couldn’t be helped when Poe’s eyes kept flicking towards his mouth, and he kept licking his lips like there was something he really wanted to taste.

“Yeah,” he breathed, “Can I-?”

But Finn was way ahead of the program, and they were kissing almost before the question had been formed. They didn’t stop for a long time.

Ooh, I love this! I like how designated cinnamon rolls Finn and Poe have the badass patchwork/autobiographical tatts and it's really lovely how Hux, Rey, and Kylo all have flowers that are tied to where they came from.

*screeches* Perfect!

“Looks like you are the one with the cute boyfriend,” Rey said, nudging him.

THIS IS ALL I WANT FROM THE NEXT MOVIE

All I can think is that this is the universe's way of trolling Kylo, because making Ren look bad is what Hux and Rey excel at more than anything, and together... theIR SAVAGE MOCKERY WOULD BE UNSTOPPABLE.

SA

Still, it would be fascinating to read a soulmate fic about two people who have NO interest in each other, with NOTHING in common, are on actual opposite sides of a galactic war, who genuinely think each other is A LIFE'S-AMBITION-RUINING TERRORIST/AN INSANE PLANET-EXPLODING MONSTER, and up until this revelation they would've been ALL FOR THE OTHER'S DEATH.

Plus there's the age gap too -- if it's one of those "your soulmate's name appears on your body" type things, what did Hux think was going on for the first 15 years of his life without one? Was he relieved? Like, "phew, no soulmate, no weakness, no problem destroying everyone in the universe now." Maybe that's the age he started planning a life of horrible atrocities and The Powers That Be panicked and assigned him an Actual Rey Of Light as a soulmate in the hopes she'd balance him out, but oops! she's a baby, and uh oh! someone abandoned her on a trash planet, and what's that? He's made a Starkiller? Aww, come on!

THIS OP IS SCREECHINGLY HAPPY.

I love the difference between his nervousness and what real fear is like, and how he's just so "YUP, MISSED YOU LOTS." Dudes who are emotionally honest are my JAM.

Added the fill above to AO3: http://archiveofourown.org/works/6508840

Vader had liked children once. Long ago, in another life.

He was not that man anymore, the arrogant, compassionate fool, but there was a certain… fondness for small, delicate things. He had memories of bright eyes and reckless smiles, of the trust of someone he was meant to protect.

That was long gone though, and this child was not like that.

He did not actually know why he had been left with this strange serious eyed infant. Tarkin had gone off to be sharp-faced and bureaucratic at a red haired young officer, ––Commandant Hux, he knew this, his master had a some obscure connection to him, his cold eyed ruthlessness endeared him to the emperor, and his young wife was what-had-been-Sheev Palpatine’s daughter–– and the officer had left him here. In an empty conference room. With Vader.

He supposed that made this small reflection of the Commandant, red hair, pale, cold eyes, serious expression, something of the Emperor’s grandchild. That did put him solidly into the category of things vader was meant to protect.

There had been no objections on the part of the child to being left with Vader. It seemed his father going off to talk training programs and imperial academies with other officers was not uncommon. He’d walked in in a very serious, if truncated for the stubbiness of his legs, attempt at military form behind his father, and responded to the order to wait quietly and not to touch anything with a nod and a “Yes Sir.” Now, he stood, imposing as something less than three feet tall could be, in a quasi-cadet’s uniform, looking up at Vader without fear. Strange, very few things looked at him without fear. And most things had to look up, if not quite so far as the boy did.

His machine regulated breathing filled the silence of the room, the boy did not speak. An impulse lead Vader to kneel down, he was still considerably taller, but looked the child in the eye more easily. The boy flinched back only as far as was absolutely necessary.

“What is your name?” Vader’s voice, deep and modulated by his mask, did not seem to frighten him either.

“Hux” The quiet, polite reply. He wondered if the boy had been told not to speak unless spoken to, and what child in the galaxy readily responded to that question with only a surname.

“Do you know who I am?”

A tiny, thoughtful nod, red hair bouncing “You’re Lord Vader.” A pause, round features considering whether to continue “The Commandant says that you can kill someone with just your mind” His speech was excellent for one so young, he couldn’t have been more than six. A vague Outer Rim lilt as well as simple inexperience rounded out his Rs with just the edge of a W: a small error that made some part of Vader’s largely mechanical chest squeeze ever so slightly. Except the word ‘Commandant’. That was said with impeccable pronunciation and no hint of an accent at all.

Vader had absolutely no idea what to make of the fact that Commandant Brendol Hux had seen fit to tell his son that he was capable of killing with the power of the force. He knew such officers put little stock in his abilities, if Hux’s eyes had lit with the reflection of a manic spark when he’d witnessed the results of Vader’s disappointment exerted on a fellow officer, it was none of Vader’s concern.

“How old are you?” He kept the questions flowing, rather keeping the boy occupied than kneel in tense silence with him.

At that, his small frame seemed to swell almost imperceptibly with pride “Four and Three Quarters of a galactic standard year, sir” spoken with the air of a freshly promoted officer being asked his rank.

“Impressive”

Gaining confidence that he was allowed to speak, still a very serious expression on his small face as he made unflinching eye contact with vader’s mask, the boy stated with the matter of factness that so many children spoke of their simple realities of life “I’ve started preparatory lessons this year. My tutor is a droid.” He’d nearly stumbled over ‘preparatory’, adding another lilted R: ‘prepraratory’. Clearly a word he’d heard but did not fully understand. Then, inquisitive “Are /you/ a droid?”

“No. I am not”

“You sound like a droid”

“My mask alters my voice”

“Hm”

That seemed to satisfy his line of inquiry. The pale eyes looked him up and down, so much appraisal and calculation.

“/Have/ you killed someone?”

“I have killed many someones.”

––Vader had said something similar to that Rebel Alliance boy. The one who’d come with Kenobi and taken the princess, who had used the force to destroy the first death star, who had burned with so much fury for the loss of a father that Vader could not even place in the nearly endless line of faces of those he’d slain.

“You killed my father!” The child had shouted, though he had been a child much larger than this one.

“You shall have to be more specific, I have killed a great many fathers” He had replied truthfully.
Vader did not often see the need to lie. Not to children at any rate, no matter how large or small they may be. ––

“With your mind?”

“Yes, and my lightsaber”

“Can /I/ kill someone with my mind?”

Vader felt out with the force, probing for a spark of sensitivity, feeling around the edges of the boy. Nothing. Not a single midichlorian above the standard for sapient beings. “No”

The tightening of a delicate jaw, a frustration response that the tiny Hux could not hide.

“There are many ways to kill, you will not be bereft of the one” It might have been alarming that a child, hardly more than a baby was angry at the prospect of being denied the opportunity to end lives with his thoughts, but Vader had seen stranger things, even if it did make that thing in his chest squeeze a bit tighter. Hux looked like he wanted to retort, but had thought better. The fiery head bobbed again in acceptance, tightly controlled. “And there are many other uses for this gift, killing is not all I can do”

He reached out again, lifting an abandoned comm unit from the table. It must have been Tarkin’s, left there so as not to be disturbed while he and Hux the elder consulted in the next room. Vader took small satisfaction in the possibility that it would not work properly after he levitated it between him and the boy, spinning slowly and dismantling it piece by piece. Minorly inconveniencing Tarkin was an amusement.

Hux the younger watched, rapt. All frustration gone entirely from his face, his eyes traced all the components as they made their orderly dance around the durasteel case for the transmitter. There was some echo of the spark Vader had seen in the Commandant’s eyes when he’d choked some lieutenant, but it lacked the manic edge, it was more wondering, less desire to possess, more to understand. At least, he imagined he could read those nuances in the eyes of a child who was simply gaping at a magic trick. He did not have much in the way of the gift for telepathy.

The boy was smiling then, something vaguely approximating delight stealing over his serious features.

“Can you put it back together?” There was real excitement in his high voice.

Vader inclined his helmet, and the pieces, single file, floated their way to spiral back into the configuration that would turn them from random bits of metal back into a functioning comm unit. The case clicked closed, and the thing flickered back to life. Hux beamed up at him, opening his mouth to ask another breathless question, when the door hissed back open. The click of military boots heralded Tarkin and Commandant Hux’s return.

Instantly the grin vanished from the boy’s face. The serious cast returning as he looked towards his father. The comm dropped into Vader’s hand, and he drew himself back up from his knee.

“Thank you, Lord Vader, for keeping an eye on him, I trust he did not make a nuisance of himself?” Hux looked at him with more fear than his son had, but it was buried beneath layers of propriety.

“Not at all, Commandant. I trust all is well with the imperial academy and your proposed program”

Tarkin saluted, Hux returned it and was dismissed. He turned to go and called his son to his side with a small sharp beckoning gesture. Without hesitation, the boy hurried to follow his father from the room.

He glanced back as the door slid open, and gave a brief, abortive wave over his small shoulder. Vader nodded at him. And then he was gone.

––––––––

Hux would barely remember that brief encounter. The vague impression of a tall dark figure, effortly imposing, yet somehow not frightening. A modulated voice, and breathless wonder at watching something come apart and bare it’s inner workings to him, then come together and work perfectly. The bitter knowledge that he would never be able to do that, and the instant grim determination that he would find a way to anyway.

He would get brief flashes of it during field sims where he had to assemble a rudimentary comm to call the transport, when he got the warm satisfaction whenever he perfectly disassembled and reassembled his blaster for a drill, and when he began to draft the plans for a weapon that would bring an end to war. Every layer of blueprints performed an intricate dance to come together and create a whole that would, one day, function perfectly.

But the memory never came back to him so clearly as when he first laid eyes on another tall dark figure, who’s black drapery was twice as intricate, whose stance was just as imposing, but with none of the effortlessness. Who still utterly, and completely failed to frighten Hux, but this time, not for lack of trying. The then Leutenant General Hux had given the creature Kylo Ren an appraising glance as he stalked down from the hatch of the most unnecessarily overdramatic Upsilon-class shuttle Hux had ever seen ––they did not come in black, he must have requisitioned it to be /painted/–– and thought, with an internal sneer, that he did not measure up in the least.

OP

Aww, that was oddly sweet. <3 BB!Hux already on his way to being the perfect little soldier and looking up to Vader after the visit.

Though now I can't help but wonder how Kylo'd react to knowing Hux actually met Vader before.

Love this.

LOVED THIS

oh so fluffy and adorable, this is so cute :D

This was fantastic, I can't deal with how charming Vader and tiny rhotacistic Hux are. Like, I seriously should not be charmed by Darth Vader telling a four-year-old he won't be able to kill with his mind and comforting him with assurances that there are many alternate ways to kill people. IT'S SO CUTE??? As was Hux proudly announcing his age and Vader's "Impressive." Kylo would be so jealous if he knew Vader called Hux impressive, but I liked how you kept the memory so vague in Hux's mind, pieces of it shaping his life's goals, the details coming back to underscore how deeply unimpressed Hux is with Ren and Ren's custom ride.

Also, oh man, the Commandant's A+ parenting! Telling his pre-school kid about the guy who can kill with his mind, taking him to meet that guy, and then leaving his kid alone with that guy. Father of The Standard Galactic Year!

This is lovely!

LMAO you've got my attention! +1

Phwoar anon, that was hot as hell! I'll be in my bunk.

Hyperdrive my Heart (not Finn’s choice) hit the Resistance on the following Tuesday. Finn’s shaky faith in his cover name (Thilious Zarbo, really not his choice) was ruined the moment C-3PO waddled up to him in plain squadron view, holding out a stack of books, saying, "Your author’s copies, sir".

The hype, to quote Rey, revved up beautiful. By noon, the books appeared to have gone forth and multiplied all over D’Qar. Pilots in their white and orange fatigues were tossed one the moment their feet touched home base. In the conference room, Admirals Ackbar and Statura shared one good-naturedly between their laps. Rumour that Finn held offprint copies with an extended version of the Sacred Lake ablutions had half of both squads hammering at his door. And Dr. Kalonia’s opinion that here at last was a romance that did not read like a podrace to Supreme Enabler Male Prostate was echoed back to Finn by six different sources.

Finn bore it all with fortitude. Being a popular author had its perks, making up for the achingly blank slate that was his own tale up to a month ago. It didnt hurt, either, that the rocketing sales would see them through the harsh season with enough proteins and fuel to boost men and machines.

Of course, there was still the fact that the illustrator had, for once, read the book and come up with a startlingly appropriate front piece. Cor and Malko stood on the eve of parting, Cor already wrapped in the hermit’s gear that would ease his incognito trek to his native waste land, before he delivered the Sacred Name due to heal it. Malko was turning his head back for a last farewell, a chapter before he ran into the plucky nomad girl Kya. His lost profile only showed the curve of a dark-brown cheek under the long hair favoured by the artist, but Cor stood full front, his face open and pleading, and while he didn’t look precisely like Poe, it didn’t take a Maz Kanata to observe that neither did he look not like Poe.

It was a good thing, Cor’s maker thought, that he was back to warring and mostly outdoors these days.

Less of a good thing that Poe had become an out-and-out-outdoors guy. Finn had barely seen him since Rey’s return. Poe left at dawn, ate on the fly, and generally behaved as if his true vocation was to experience a whole new level of far, far away. More often than not, he flew in with new bruises. Once or twice, he flew days late, only to take off at reveille. To Finn, who had no idea if Poe was getting a raw deal from High Command or flat-out avoiding him, this was jarring.

He tried to corner Poe. If the Story had in mind to end with a bang and an apology, so be it. They were both ex-Army brats, but Finn at least prided himself on having rounded his transition to Army man. By now, he felt holistic enough to look into his heart and give Poe the readout, chapter and verse; and if Poe said oh boy, not on your life, buddy, Finn would man up and volunteer for transfer to one of their allied HQs.

But Poe wouldn’t be cornered. Not until the night when Finn showed up late at mess to be hailed by Jess and Chewie, who had kept him a seat. The moment he sat down, he realized that the benchful of pilots was hot in debate. No, scratch that. Were hot in a literary tug-of-war, with Blue Squad calling the shots.

here at last was a romance that did not read like a podrace to Supreme Enabler Male Prostate

LMAO

Holding Patterns
2/3

Note: I thought it would be 2 parts, but I was traveling this weekend and didn't get to write, and it's getting a little long anyway, so I decided to break it up a little more. The last part is in the works.

_____

The day drags by without much change. Finn reads, and watches Poe. He tinkers with a console he's supposed to be rewiring, and watches Poe. He does a few sets of crunches and pushups - quietly. And watches Poe. By early afternoon, the shivers have subsided and some of the color has come back to his cheeks. His skin is still hot to the touch, but not like this morning when it was practically searing, and his breaths seem shallow but unconstricted.

Kneeling on the floor by the bed, Finn tenderly combs the hair away from Poe's face and whispers, "Guess what: I think you're going to live. Not that you were worried. What would you've done if I hadn't basically drugged you and hauled your ass to bed? Taken off in Black One?" He shakes his head. "What would you do without me, Poe Dameron? I think you owe me again. Don't worry: I take payment in lots of different forms." Leaning closer, he adds, "And lots of different positions."

Poe's lashes flutter briefly, but otherwise he doesn't react - a good indication, Finn thinks, sitting back on his heels, of how truly ill he is.

"Later," Finn tells him. "You can pay me back later. 'Cause you're gonna be okay."

The door chimes. Thinking it must be General Organa's droid with the soup, Finn climbs stiffly to his feet and goes to answer it.

"Hi," says Rey with a little wave. Her other arm is looped around Jess Pava's waist. "Don't be mad at BB-8."

Finn glares down at the droid. "I'm telling Poe."

BB-8 whistles innocently.

"It's okay, we'll leave in just a second," Jess promises. "We just wanted to make sure he's okay. We figured he probably was, since he's not actually in the hospital, but…"

"You're protective," says Rey.

"We like him," Jess agrees, nodding. "'We' being his squadrons."

"I like him too," says Rey.

"I know you do," says Jess. "So does Finn."

There's a gleam in her dark eyes, and Finn's soldier's training kicks in, maybe a little too late, as he thinks with sudden clarity, I'm about to be ambushed. Help.

"Finn really likes him. And d'you know what's sad?" Jess continues, looking at Rey. "Poe has no idea. He thinks Finn only likes him."

"I'm confused," says Rey, and this is all so blatantly rehearsed that Finn wants to bang his head against the doorframe. But he lets them go on because, well, they're his friends, and it's clear from the way BB-8 swivels his head so he can look at each speaker in turn that this is all quite edifying to him.

"They think they're just friends," Jess explains. "With benefits, sure. Don't get me wrong, friends with benefits is great if that's what you want. But now it's like they're locked into this holding pattern where things are good enough, and neither of them is willing to take the next step."

"Maybe there is no next step," Finn says, and he can hear the belligerence in his tone; he's not really sure where it's coming from. "Maybe things really are good enough."

Rey's eyes turn suddenly sad and she lifts a hand as if to reach for Finn, but she lets it drop back to her side when Jess says, no longer in that teasing tone, "Since I met him, Poe's had a lot of friends with benefits. Some of them you could just call fuck buddies, I guess. I don't remember any of them keeping guard over him while he was sick. And I'm pretty sure none of them ever looked at him the way you do. You guys just need to break out of your holding pattern. It's not that scary, trust me."

"No, it's not," says Rey, looking at Jess with her head slightly tilted, her lips curling upward at the corners.

"I'm closing the door," Finn says, because sometimes, in the face of overwhelming opposition, retreating is all you can do.

Jess grabs his arm. "You should tell him," she says, all pretense gone from her voice and her eyes. "He loves you like crazy, but he's never going to say it because he's stupid. Do it now, while he's weak and can't give you shit."

Rey tugs her back, then she puts her own hand gently on Finn's arm. "Do it your own way, when you're ready," she says, looking into his eyes the way she used to in the very beginning, when it was just the two of them against the galaxy. "He's not going anywhere. And we're not trying to give you a hard time. We also wanted to see how you were doing. We're just saying all this because we like you too."

"Definitely," Jess agrees. "Sometimes we actually like you more than Poe."

After they've gone, Finn walks tiredly back to the chair by Poe's bed and drops into it. He's not going to think about what he just heard, he decides. Not right now, anyhow. Later, when Poe's feeling better. It's not fair, making decisions that concern him directly, when he's not even conscious.

In his head he hears Rey's voice, informing him that that isn't just an excuse, it's a pathetic one. He knows she's right too - because, let's face it, when isn't she? - but...

Later, he thinks with a dismissive shrug, reaching for his data pad and turning it on. Later, when he's alone and can think a little straighter. When he doesn't have to listen to the sound of Poe's breathing. He stares with determination at the words on the screen, and a few minutes pass before it occurs to him that he's not actually reading.

Would anything really change if I said it?

He sets the data pad down on his thigh and looks over at Poe. As he does, something heavy seems to settle in his throat.

Would I feel any different if you said it?

Finn isn't sleeping with anyone else, and has no desire to. If Poe is sleeping with other people, he hasn't said a word about it to Finn or anyone who'd be likely to tell him. It's possible, Finn supposes, that Poe hooks up every time he goes off on a mission by himself, and he's just being really discreet about it. Why, though? Because that's just his nature? Because he's trying to protect Finn's feelings?

If he found out that Poe occasionally slept with other people, or even half the galaxy, would he care?

He's not my Commander Dameron.

No, he's not. Though everyone in the Resistance, from Jess Pava to General Organa seems to think so.

Would it make a difference if he were?

Not today, thinks Finn. Without taking his eyes off Poe, he turns off the data pad off and puts it aside. "You know they all love you," he says softly. "Everyone in your squadrons, BB-8, General Organa, even Dr. Kalonia. You know they do. It must be something…"

The thing in his throat moves and thickens, so that now it's difficult to even breathe, never mind speak. It must be something, Finn thinks, to be so loved, and to be so secure in the knowledge of that love that you can push back against it without fear. He swallows painfully and reaches for Poe's hand, threading the lifeless fingers with his own.

D'you really need one more person telling you?

Can't wait to see what'll happen when they managed to interact with Poe about the book and his striking resemblance to Cor! :D

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PROMPT POST #5 - CLOSED

This post is closed to new prompts!

Re: FILL - Whose kid is this? 4/?

Re: Poe/Finn- Poe is Finn's anchor

Re: Family Circles, Sort-of Fill:Dark Reylo - Noncon, pregnancy-by-rape, frank discussions of aborti

Re: Finn/Everyone, Finn/Poe Finn has a magic dick

Re: FILL - Hyperdrive My Heart (6/?)

Small Fill: Stormpilot- Straightforward Love Confession

Re: FILL - marks of mine

Re: Small Fill: Stormpilot- Straightforward Love Confession

Re: Hux/Rey, worst soulmate match happens

Re: Hux/Rey, worst soulmate match happens

Re: Small Fill: Stormpilot- Straightforward Love Confession

FILL: Black Box System, rumors about Reconditioning (Gen)

FILL: Darth Vader meets toddler!Hux

Re: FILL: Darth Vader meets toddler!Hux

Re: [Fill] Am I Breathing underwater? [2/7]

Re: FILL: Darth Vader meets toddler!Hux

Re: Hux/Kylo Ren - Hair play

Re: FILL: Darth Vader meets toddler!Hux

Re: Small Fill: Stormpilot- Straightforward Love Confession

Re: Hux/Rey, worst soulmate match happens

Re: Kylo/Hux, Uniform Kink, Nipple Play

FILL - Hyperdrive My Heart (7/?)

Re: FILL - Hyperdrive My Heart (7/?)

FILL: Holding Patterns 2/3 (Finn/Poe & Rey/Jess, sickfic)

Re: FILL - Hyperdrive My Heart (7/?)