tfa_kink | PROMPT POST #6- CLOSED

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PROMPT POST #6- CLOSED

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prompt post: one | two | three | four | five

+ All comments except fills should be posted anonymously.
+ All prompts should focus on TFA characters. You can't post OT or PT-only prompts.
+ One prompt per comment please.
+ You can request both kink and non-kink content
+ Crossovers, characters from the other media are allowed, but must relate to the 2015 movie in some way.
+ All prompt comments should begin with a pairing tag (eg Rey/Finn) or Gen for no pairing.
+ Use 'Any' when prompting for any pairing at all (eg Kylo/Any or Any/Any)
+ Anyone, everyone, no one? Use "Other." (e.g. Poe/Other)
+ Warn for common triggers, please
+ NO PROMPTS FEATURING CHARACTERS UNDER 18 IN SEXUAL SITUATIONS.
+ don't hijack other people's prompts.
+ prompts should not exceed ~250 words.
+ also, while this is not really a rule I can enforce, please try to limit yourselves to fewer than 5 prompts per page.
+ reposting prompts is currently not allowed.
+ no prompts based on real life tragic events. e.g: 9/11 au, concentration camp au, etc
+ PLAY NICE

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Ahhhh yessss +100

Finally, an update!!! And it was SO worth the wait - these two share such a wonderful, natural connection it is an absolute treat to see it played out in this sexy & sweet manner. :)

❤ for awesome new chapters!

Jealous Kylo is my thing. +10000000 (Also Hux/OMC for some reason...)

Oh my gosh, someone please write this. +10000

This is so cute +1

*shuffles into the horrible people corner* +10000000000000

Yes. Yes. Seconded!!!

*joins you all*

*has a notepad*

*will try really hard*

Without their big shiny super weapon, the First Order needs to step a little more carefully. They make a real effort to cultivate allies in their time of crisis. One potential supporter is a planet ruled by a monarchy, with a rigid hierarchical social structure. Their ruler doesn't deign to speak with commoners, but, as luck would have it, Kylo Ren was bred from good stock and can claim royal status. Alderaan is a bunch of broken rock, but it still counts for something.

Kylo's true identity is on a need to know basis, so Snoke sends Hux along as his assistant/handler for the negotiations, as he is already aware of and supremely disinterested in Ren's genealogy. Kylo can just pluck the things he needs to say from Hux, and the monarch need never know who they were truly dealing with. Everyone wins.

Kylo expects pure misery - to dredge up Ben's ghost and be tied to Hux for the duration is almost too much to be borne - but the general surprises him. He's deferential, submissive, the perfect aide. It's an act, obviously, just playing along to appease some antiquated nobility, but Kylo likes it. He likes it a lot.

+++++++ Hux catches on and uses it to his advantage

Later they wake up together after hours in each other's company, comfortable and quiet. Poe's warm, sprawled and half-tangled with Finn still. He opens his eyes slowly, content and comfortable.

It's still dim. Overhead, the skylight reveals a uniform plane of shadowed snow covering over the glass, but Poe's pretty sure it's the morning. The late morning.

His body is satisfactorily sore, like he's been exercising, which he has. Every instinct tells him to roll over, hide his nose under the covers and go back to sleep.

"I think B.B. is hungry," Finn mutters.

Poe lifts his head to peer over Finn's chest, and sees the earnest eyes of the dog, nose pressed pointedly against the exposed patch of skin on Finn's shoulder. His eyes bore an intense hole in Poe, and when he sees movement, his tail thumps on the mattress. Hopeful.

"You're completely obvious," Poe tells B.B.

The dog lifts his head as if he knows he's going to get his way, ears perking. Poe sighs, and starts to get up, climbing over Finn. Finn pulls Poe down and kisses him as he crawls past, stroking his fingers through Poe's hair fondly.

"We should take a shower," Finn tells him, smiling softly, like he's making a promise.

"Do I look that bad?" Poe laughs. He can feel the way his hair is disrupted, the gritty feeling on his skin.

"We both do," Finn says. Poe doesn't agree - Finn's hair doesn't look like it's out of place at all, and his eyes are still bright, pleased, even after a night of more sex than sleep.

"If I can have a cup of coffee in the shower, I'll feed B.B. and meet you there," Poe says.

Hearing his name, B.B. barks once, sharply, agreeing. Finn nods and gives Poe a solid thump on the ass, more sound than sting, to send him off with luck.

Downstairs, Poe turns on the coffee pot and fills B.B's bowl, setting it on the floor. It's a normal morning, Poe thinks, looking out his kitchen window as Finn pads up the hallway and into the bathroom. It's normal, but somehow so much more complete.

Outside, there's a thick sheet of snow on everything, and the sky is steel gray like a promise for more. Enough, Poe hopes, to give Finn an excuse to stay another night. After Poker.

He pours a cup of coffee and joins Finn in the shower, cup in hand.

"Should we call Snap again?" Finn asks, passing Poe the soap as they both squeeze into his shower stall.

"Mmm," Poe says against the rim of his cup, considering. "Let him call us."

Maybe, he thinks, it's going to change a little. Maybe it's time to put in a bath tub.

Basically I've been camped out on this thread all day hitting refresh instead of writing my own stuff. THANKS I HAVE NO REGRETS NOW.

A!A here - I'm so sorry to make you wait. I write by hand first and sometimes it takes me until a little later to get it typed in out of my notebook. See you again tomorrow! (P.S. Write write write *cheerleader sounds*)

[I hope someone fills this with real smut, but in the meantime, have a minifill!]

"Now me, I'm neutral, but Chewie thinks we should dump him out of the airlock."

Chewbacca howls, and Poe yanks at the cables around his wrists. He should be panicking, because Han Solo is definitely capable of murdering an empire spy in cold blood, but Poe's a little distracted. It isn't every day that he gets to be tied up by the man who taught Poe that he really, really likes men.

The fact that Han tied him up while looking like that is almost unbearable.

Speaking of unbearable, Leia's eyes are wide and serious as she looks Poe up and down. Force almighty, she's young, still brave and clever and full of hope. Poe swallows around the sudden lump in his throat.

Leia's eyes keep wandering over Poe's face. "If he is a spy, he certainly knows a lot about the rebel command structure." Her eyes flick down to the open collar of Poe's jacket, and he wonders whether it's possible to die from pure need.

"Believe me, Princess, I wouldn't trust me either. The last thing I want to do is put the rebellion in jeopardy." Poe knows that even this Leia is too experienced to fall for cheap flattery, but he maintains eye contact anyway. Leia doesn't look away.

"I think he's telling the truth," Luke says. Blond and tan and clean-shaven, he looks less like a hermit and more like the desert farm boys in the holovids Poe pretends he doesn't watch. Luke steps closer, and Poe has trouble holding his gaze. "I can feel him, Leia. He doesn't feel dark. Don't you feel it?"

The look he exchanges with Leia makes Poe's mouth go dry. He'd heard stories about the twins in their youth, but he hadn't believed any of them. Did they even know they were related?
Han chuckles from his position by the wall. "What, are we in a dirty holovid now? Do we all have to lick him to see if he tastes like the dark side?"

Both twins blush. Leia fixes Han with a look that Poe's definitely familiar with. "Leave him tied up. We'll drop him at the next base when we go planetside."

She moves towards the cockpit, and Han trails after her, with Chewie trailing after him. "We should probably stick him in the cargo bin. Give his arms a rest."

Leia turns back to meet Poe's eyes. "No, leave him right there. He looks good tied up."

Han chokes. Poe doesn't blame him.

Jedi Rey exhausts herself and/or is injured defeating Snoke and saving the universe; Finn carries her to safety through the snow/rubble/ongoing battle/other hazardous setting.

Seconding! Ahaha I bet Kylo will need a moment to ...readjust when Hux bows and calls him "my lord" for the first time.

Yes! Finn has to put that sanitation experience to work and sweep Rey off her feet!

[A/N: This broke me out of a writing rut and let me stare at shirtless .gifs of Adam Driver for hours on end, so thank you, dear nonny! I hope this is humiliating enough for you. <3]

Coupe

To General Hux, Kylo Ren is an exercise in excess.

He is excessive to the chain of command of the Finalizer. He is excessive in the raw, barely contained power that he wields so gracelessly. He is even excessive in his physical form—tall, broad, and overwhelming.

In Hux’s eyes, it’s only the last that redeems him. He reflects on this as he straightens up, stepping away from his bed to admire his handiwork.

Against Hux’s black sheets, Ren’s great, naked body seems paler, marmoreal even, interrupted here and there by generous constellations of moles. One day, Hux is going to connect them all, in order to divine what this particular overabundance of Ren’s means.

Even in repose, Ren overreaches, heavy legs sprawled carelessly over the soft topography of Hux’s bed. His arms are pinned above his head, resting against the mattress, wrists bound together by a rather clever freighter’s knot, if Hux may say so himself. Personal adornments are kept to a minimum in the First Order, which means that even General Hux’s bed lacks a headboard. No matter—Hux has tied the rope to the underside of his bed. It’s probably better for Ren’s shoulders, anyway.

It’s by no means the decadent four-poster bed he sometimes fantasizes about having—something he could truss Ren to in positions that would make even his powerful limbs tremble. But it will do for now. They haven’t been at this long. There will be time enough for that later. After Starkiller’s debut.

Hux takes one final look at the appealing visual before him, hands on his bared hips, before getting onto the bed himself. He summits Ren, slotting their hips together. The position brings their soft, stirring cocks into contact. Hux clicks his tongue lazily. Ren strains his neck up at the contact, openly staring down at where they meet, but the restraints keep him from lifting his shoulders.

It’s an illusion of restraint, of course. Ren is strong, both with the Force and without. He could unravel Hux’s careful bindings with a thought. He could buck Hux off of his body with just a twist of his hips. He could leave.

But he won’t. Ren’s obedience was not easily acquired, nor is that obedience even perfect after being so hard-won. But it is not the quality of Ren’s obedience that thrills Hux to his core. Ren’s eager, near-desperate willingness to submit to him despite his superior attributes is.

Hux takes his time in examining the body below him. He feels Ren’s eyes, already glassy in the half-dark of his quarters, tear themselves away from his cock to search his face, but he doesn’t meet his gaze.

The demands of the Dark Side on Ren’s body exempts him from rationing, and his missions for Supreme Leader often leaves his diet at the whims of whatever’s available. He is strong, stronger than any stormtrooper, stronger than anyone Hux has ever met—but without a diet engineered for aesthetics, there is, nonetheless, something soft to his musculature, as if he’s gotten so big that he’s overflowing the lines of his body.

And nowhere is that more evident than his chest. The contrast between their bodies titillates and fascinates Hux. His own pectoral muscles are slight and flat to his chest. As orderly and symmetrical as the rest of his body, if, perhaps, not as defined as they once were. And his nipples are small, circular, and neat, appropriately vestigial for a masculine mammal.

Ren’s are decidedly not, Hux thinks, splaying his hands over Ren’s massive pectorals. Their great curves fit neatly into the palms of his hands as he cups them. Ren’s nipples are unruly, protruding—pinkish, despite his coloring, and nearly oval, as if sloppily rendered. They begin to peak against Hux’s palm just from his touch.

Ren shifts beneath him, straining his head up to see what Hux is looking at. His eyes flicker to Hux’s face, but Hux notices it out of the periphery of his vision. He still doesn’t look at Ren.

“What are you doing?” Ren asks, after a moment, low voice rumbling through his chest, the sensation pleasant against Hux’s balls and stirring erection.

“Are you familiar with the coupe glass, Ren?” Hux asks, knowing full well Ren is not. Ren shifts his head, which might be confirmation or might just be discomfort. Either is satisfactory for Hux. “It’s for sparkling wine—if you like it to flatten before you can finish your glass. Better for cocktails, in my opinion. In any case, legend tells that the original glass was molded off of the breast of the first Empress of the Galidraan system.”

Ren’s cock stirs against the slight curve of Hux’s ass. “Nothing so salacious as that,” Hux chides, nonetheless grinding one slow circle against Ren just to see his eyelids flicker. “Mother’s milk is venerated in Galidraan space as the font of all life. It makes perfect sense to celebrate by sipping sparkling wine from the breast of the Empress.”

Hux trails the blade of his right hand along the drooping curve of Ren’s pectoral. “We could mold quite the coupe off of you, Lord Ren.”

“I don’t have breasts,” Ren says, quickly—but too quickly, his eyes darting away as he bites his lip. No wonder Ren wears the mask, Hux thinks. His face betrays him at every turn.

“Of course not,” Hux soothes, with more than a little sarcasm in his voice. “You couldn’t feed anyone with these. What you’ve got, Ren, is a nice pair of tits.”

Ren swallows, grimacing a little, but Hux can feel him harden beneath him. Hux clicks his tongue, pressing his palms into Ren’s chest, digging the tips of his fingers as he gathers the strong, generous flesh. “Tits,” he repeats, hissing, watching Ren’s face color.

Ren’s body is a stunning map of muscles and scars, but that makes Hux value the surprising spots of tenderness on his terrain all the more. He presses his thumbs against Ren’s nipples, rubbing soft but firm circles over them. He’s already a little hard from tying Ren down—from Ren being so pliant for him—and he indulges himself further by occasionally grinding against Ren’s cock, making Ren’s face twitch and flutter in arousal. He watches, fascinated as always, as Ren’s nipples stiffen and swell under his machinations.

“Look,” Hux says, clicking his tongue. “Your tits are so perky, Ren.”

Ren squirms underneath him, cock pulsing once, drily, in the space between Hux’s thigh and Hux’s cock. “They are?”

“Mmhmm,” Hux says, nodding, eyes still focused on his pinking, peaking nipples. “Even though they’re so big. No wonder you have to hide them under all those robes.” He stills his thumbs, tapping gently against the slightly soft curve of the flesh. “Do they chafe when you wear them? Do your robes chafe against your tits, Ren?”

“Y-yes,” Ren says. He’s starting to blink faster. Hux smirks. It always reminds him of a droid losing control of its mechanisms, which is, in his opinion, quite an apt metaphor for how easy it is to take Ren apart like this.

“I see,” Hux says, mock thoughtfully. “So that’s why you have to wear that little shirt to train. I hate to tell you, Ren, it doesn’t leave anything to the imagination. It can barely contain you.” Hux cups Ren’s pectorals. “They bounce when you run, you know that? It’s obscene,” Hux hisses. He mimics the motion, shifting Ren’s pectorals up and down to make them bounce a little. Ren’s pendulous nipples are framed between Hux’s thumbs and index fingers. If he presses against Ren, the framed flesh bulges slightly, pushing his nipples out and up. They’re already starting to swell from Hux’s attentions, their borders tightening and pink skin darkening and puckering against the inclines of Ren’s erect nipples. Like this, Ren looks downright buxom.

Hux’s mouth is suddenly too wet. He swallows. He presses a nipple between his thumb and his bent index finger and tugs—not sharply enough to hurt, but enough to make Ren gasp. He’s fully hard now, cock pressing a line of thick heat against Hux’s. Hux’s cock swells to full attention in response, and he rolls his hips to grind against Ren as he continues. “It’s a good thing you only wear it to train. If everyone could see your pretty tits poking through your shirt like that, well…” Hux clicks his tongue for effect.

“What?” Ren asks, breathless. He strains his head up, nearly tucking his chin into his neck. “What would they want to do to my…” To Hux’s delight, Ren’s words fail him as he looks down at his abused chest, pectorals practically plump in Hux’s hands. Ren’s face has already started to color from the effort of trying not to strain too much at his restraints or reach out with the Force, but now the flush is spreading steadily down his neck from embarrassment—and, judging by how tenderly Ren bites his lower lip, arousal.

A sympathetic wave of it hits Hux like a freighter, and his cock pulses wet against Ren’s. Ren hisses at the sensation, squeezing his eyes shut and twisting beneath Hux in a futile effort to find friction against Hux’s hip. Hux sits back a little, enough to give them both a little quick relief but more to keep Ren still. “Ah ah ah!” Hux chides, drumming his fingers against Ren’s chest and barely squeezing—just enough to feel the added swell rough usage has lent Ren’s chest. “Finish your sentence, Ren. Use your words.”

Ren’s eyes shoot open and he worries his lip for a moment before saying, so quietly that Hux can barely make it out, “…what to do to my… tits?”

The word is a short, sharp noise out of Ren’s mouth, all air and teeth, but its effect on Ren is immense—Hux feels Ren’s cock pulse so hard it almost jerks against his. Hux hisses at the delicious sensation, but rises up on his thighs enough to part their flesh. He’s not ready to be done so soon.

Hux sniffs, steadying himself. “Touch them, of course. Get a good handful and squeeze them.” He does so, and Ren bites back a groan, letting his great head fall back onto Hux’s pillow. “Grope them until until they’re all swollen and sore and you start begging them to touch you anywhere else, but they won’t.” Hux is practically kneading Ren’s chest like dough at this point, delighting in the way Ren is trying but failing to hold back his low, panting whines. When Hux eases off just enough to cup his pectorals and shift their weight in his hand, though, Ren keens.

“Just look at how big your tits are,” Hux says, clicking his tongue again. “They’re so big I think I could fuck them.”

“Oh, fuck, please,” Ren hisses, tugging at his restraints as if he’s forgotten he can’t hold his tits together for Hux to do so. It’s a forceful enough movement that Hux is almost unseated. But Hux shakes his head, shuffling forward on his knees to sit nearly on Ren’s ribs. The sensation of sliding his cock against Ren’s sweating torso forces a faint moan out of Hux. Stars, Hux thinks. He could rub up against any slick part of Ren and it would be enough.

The thought gives him an idea. He drags his hand down his leaking cock, pulling moisture from the head down his shaft to ease his way. “I’m not going to fuck them, Ren,” Hux announces. “I’m going to come on them. I’m going to come all over your nice, big tits.”

Hux leans over Ren, using his left hand to press the slick, red head of his cock to Ren’s swollen right nipple, rubbing the stiff nub against his slit. Hux lets his eyes fall shut at the strange but satisfying sensation. Ren nearly sobs, face twisting into an ugly grimace with anticipation, want, and need. “Yes,” Ren begins to beg. “Come on me, come on my chest—”

Hux clicks his tongue sharply. “Ask properly,” he demands.

“Oh, shit!” Ren swears, the curse a rising, panicked noise. He pulls at the ropes again, trying to bury his burning face in the plush curve of his bicep. He could break through the restraints in a heartbeat, Force or no Force, but he doesn’t, and the thought makes Hux’s cock pulse wet onto Ren’s nipple. Ren squeezes his eyes shut and pants, each word a gasp, “Come on my tits, Hux, please…”

Hux squeezes himself roughly with his left hand to keep himself from coming on the spot. He plants his right hand on Ren’s forehead, threading the tips of his fingers into his hair and balancing the heel of his palm on the curve of his brow. The point is to tilt Ren’s head back to further expose the powerful column of his throat, but in the heat of the moment Hux has forgotten—the man underneath him will take advantage of any opening he sees.

The underside of Hux’s forearm rests lightly against Ren’s mouth, and his plush lips part on contact. He mouthes and licks at Hux’s skin as he rolls his hips against empty air. “Come on my tits,” he groans again, louder, clearer, his desperation outpacing his shame.

It’s too much, and Hux obliges Ren, splattering his swollen right nipple with a few short, sure strokes. Ren strains his neck to stare down at it, face red, eyes fixed, mouth open.

Hux sits back—he’d risen on his thighs a little to come on Ren—panting, recovering. Ren tenses and quivers beneath him, desperate to come. When Hux’s head begins to clear, he notices, dazedly, that Ren’s nipples don’t match. Almost without thinking, he reaches out with his right hand and smears his come over Ren’s chest, fingertips brushing against his left nipple. Hux squeezes the generous handful in his palm, and Ren gives a frustrated sob. “Hux, please, I have to come, I need to come or I’ll—”

“You’re not going to die if you don’t come,” Hux says irritably, but it’s without heat, which makes it sound almost fond. He slides back on Ren’s sweaty stomach, nose wrinkling at the overstimulation. When he feels Ren’s thick, straining cock against the slight curve of his ass, Hux reaches back with his dry hand to part his asscheeks, letting Ren’s cock press a line of wet heat against his entire cleft. He hasn’t let Ren fuck him yet—not with that monstrous thing he calls a cock. Not yet, at least. He will. But, for now, it’s a little easier to motivate Ren with the promise of things to come.

Groaning, Ren thrusts shallowly against Hux, and Hux lets him. Hux leans over a little to better rub his hole up and down a fraction against Ren’s cock, licking his lips a little at the sensation of wet heat against the nerves of his rim.

Hux leans over farther to press back further, far enough that his breath ghosts over Ren’s swollen, come-wet nipples. Ren writhes under Hux, and Hux looks up to find Ren’s face screwed up in need. “Oh, fuck,” Ren curses, breathlessly. And, without any prompting: “Fuck, suck me, suck on my tits…”

Hux rewards his unusually good behavior by ducking his head down and greedily sucking the salt of his spend from Ren’s swollen nipple, until he can no longer taste his bitterness and only the sweat of Ren’s skin. They fit so perfectly in my mouth, he thinks, lazily, as he switches nipples. Ren moans underneath him, thick cock leaking wet against Hux’s hole. It’s filthy enough to make Hux’s sated cock twitch weakly in interest.

“Your nipples are so sweet, Ren,” Hux says, barely lifting his head from Ren’s chest. “You like it when I suck on your tits, don’t you?”

“Yes, yes,” Ren pants in a low, thin voice. “I like it when you suck on my—”

He gives a sob, twists in his restraints one last time, and comes. Some splatters across Hux’s lower back, but most of it hits his tailbone and drips down, trickling against Hux’s rim. Another time, he thinks, he’ll finger himself with that.

Once Ren goes limp, Hux clambers off of him and the bed, wincing as he feels Ren’s come drip down to his thighs. He ducks into the refresher for a moment to wipe himself down, and then takes a fresh, damp washcloth with him.

Ren is still prone on Hux’s bed, looking particularly debauched. Hux kneels next to Ren’s body on the bed, wielding the washcloth awkwardly in his right hand. He notices that there’s still a smear of his own come on Ren’s clavicle. Hux swipes it off with his left thumb and presses it to Ren’s lips. Ren takes the slick digit into his mouth and sucks it clean without any apparent thought, making lazy, sated eye contact with Hux as he does so.

Progress, Hux thinks, something like pride swelling in his chest.

Hux removes his hand from Ren’s face and wipes down his chest and cock, which is just as impressive soft as it is hard. He takes another pass at Ren’s chest for no reason other than to keep touching Ren’s glorious tits. He’s really quite fond of them.

Ren orgasms the same way he does everything else—with maximum effort. Accordingly, his post-orgasmic state is one of near blissful pliability, which Hux has used to his advantage on more than one occasion. As Hux meets Ren’s seemingly drug-addled gaze, he feels the prideful feeling in his chest tighten, for some reason. His hand comes to a halt over Ren’s chest. The feeling only gets worse when Ren’s full, grim lips threaten to curve upwards.

“If they’re too sore in the morning,” Hux says, clearing his throat, “I have an ointment you can use.”

He startles a little when one of Ren’s big hands comes to rest on top of his own. He glances away from Ren’s face to find the red rope coiled demurely in his sheets. “And then,” Ren says, deep voice rumbling out of his broad, abused chest and into Hux’s hand, “we’ll do it again.”

Hux stares for a moment. “Insatiable,” he chides, eventually, but he smiles down approvingly at Ren’s exhausted, eager face all the same.

"So, uh," Finn starts, a couple of days later, after the storm has passed. He'd made it to poker on Thursday, the last night it had snowed. Everyone seemed to have plenty to talk about that wasn't him or Poe. He was glad about the weather then, for more than a few personal reasons. It was like Ackbar said - he should try to fit in a little better.

So he does, and he finds that - aside from that prejudice and their avoidance of Poe altogether, they're friendly, pleasant people.

He'd helped a few of them dig out again this morning before coming to visit Poe, listening to endless stories of blizzards past told like cherished local folklore.

"So," Poe prompts, giving Finn a big smile.

The weekend at Snap's place had seemed unbearably long, but at least Kare had cleared out by the time Finn returned. He'd seen a parallel there, and he supposes he has to guess - an educated guess anyway - about what that meant about the upcoming full moon and Poe.

Poe leans against his shoulder as they stand in the kitchen, waiting for Finn to be ready. The contact is so comfortable, so relaxed and willing that Finn wants to forget his question and let the chips fall where they may.

"What do you want to do about the full moon?" Finn asks, jumping right in with both feet.

Poe looks at him, all bright mischief, and asks, "how do you feel about doggy style?"

Finn has to laugh. "Okay. I set myself up for that one."

"You did," Poe agrees.

Finn likes this the most - this happy, playful side of Poe. He's funny. He takes care of his little - what? farm? homestead? - with fierce determination and a lot of skill, but he's been willing to share that with and teach Finn. To help him learn the new skills he'll need to survive outside the city.

But, it had been a serious question. Finn looks down at Poe again, and tries just going for it.

"Are there going to be any complications, since it's, you know - this season?" Finn says. He means to be an adult about it, to say it like he's not a silly puppy, but he blushes anyway. Because it's Poe, and he likes Poe,a nd the outcome of this conversation is pretty important.

Poe's expression changes slowly, closing down and becoming more guarded.

"Hey," Finn says. "Whatever it is, I don't mind. I still want to be with you, I still want to spend time with you, I just think we should really be ready before - well."

He shrugs. He means, they should be ready and not accidentally start a family. That sort of thing should be planned. The relationship is amazing, but it's brand new, and Finn's just starting to make his way amongst the pack. He doesn't even have his own place yet.

"Yeah," Poe says, working his lower lip between his teeth once. His whole mood has changed, but he doesn't seem mad, just worried.

"Come sit down," Finn says, tipping his head toward the living room. Inviting Poe to sit down in his own house. It'll be more comfortable than standing in the kitchen.

Poe sits on the end of the couch, and B.B. jumps up next to him, sensing his mood. The dog puts his head in Poe's lap, comforting, and Poe absently strokes his hand over B.B.'s head, carefully seeming to consider his words.

"So," Poe says. "I guess the easiest way to say this is that there's no need to be careful."

"Okay," finn says, thinking he'd like to know a little more than that, but trusting Poe to tell him the truth. It might be that the rest is none of Finn's business or that Poe's not ready to share yet. Finn doesn't press - he tries to project that he's willing to listen to exactly what Poe is telling him.

"I can't have kids - like," Poe struggles a little, trying to find a way to explain. "Okay, like calico cats? You know how they're mostly all girls, and they can have kittens. But, every so often there's a boy calico, and they can't? The curse - or whatever it is - is like that. Mostly the opposite of how I am, like my mother was."

Finn doesn't actually know that much about cats. He's pretty sure he understands what Poe is saying, though.

"Okay," Finn repeats, absorbing this information. "So, that's not so bad."

Poe looks at him like Finn's reaction is not at all what he expected. Finn tries to put him at ease with a smile and a shrug.

"Does it really bother you?" he asks.

"Honestly? No. I'm not so keen on the idea of passing this curse on, and even less keen on carrying a pregnancy," Poe admits. "It sort of jars against who I am."

Finn can see it - the reminder of his differences as a constant daily presence where he's already been made to feel ashamed of it for so long - it jars against what Poe's built for himself in spite of that.

"Then, that's okay," Finn says.

"Don't you want a family?" Poe asks, sounding a little baffled.

"Well, yeah," Finn says. "Someday. But it's a little early in our relationship to be worrying about all that, right? I think so, anyway."

Poe nods.

"Look," Finn says. "I like being with you. I want you to be my boyfriend. My packmate. More than that, I'm glad you're my friend. It's actually kind of a relief with the full moon coming up that we can still take things at a sane pace without somebody having to go into a kennel."

Poe looks - shocked, a little, but not in a bad way. He looks relieved, like he's going to be okay. Finn reaches out for him and pulls him close.

"So why are they all so worried about you if you can't pass on the curse?" Finn asks, rhetorically. Poe shakes his head against Finn's shoulder, like he doesn't know either.

"Well, I'm not worried about you," Finn says.

"Not at all?" Poe asks, with a touch of humor in his voice.

"Worried? No," Finn says.

"What about scared?"

Finn snorts. He tells Poe, "You're not that big, you know."

Poe turns in his arms, looking up at Finn in playful offense. Finn, satisfied with his choice of mate, kisses him until he forgets to be bothered by anything.

Anon! That was hot as hellllll, like, how do I even put my brain back together after that so I can leave a coherent comment??? Just... Bravo. A+++

Also nice Space Marie Antoinette you have there. I feel like any coupe glass modelled after Kylo's tit would look more like a punchbowl.

Fucking GLORIOUS, anon! <3

I am torn because they would have made ADORABLE babies, but also happy they're happy. XD

Rey is a prostitute and falls in love with her regular client Kylo. Fluff and smut ensues.

This is great!!
What can we do for you to continue this? Things already looking good for what'll happen next:D

Seconded!!
Omega!Poe is my weakness...

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Page 153 of 203

PROMPT POST #6- CLOSED

Re: Finn/Kylo Ren,mature or up,

Re: Endymion and I - 19/?

Re: Kylux - un/requited - Hux got himself a Man

Re: Gen or Hux/Any - someone kidnaps hux and he uses it to test his crew

Re: Gen: Young Armitage and his non-human friends.

Re: Kylux tw: non-con, violence

Re: Kylux or gen, Kylo assumes command of the Finalizer, disasters ensue

Re: Kylux tw: non-con, violence

Kylux, political machinations and power games

Endymion and I - 20/?

Re: Endymion and I - 20/?

Re: Endymion and I - 20/?

minifill: Poe/young hot original trio

Finn/Rey, carrying Rey after battle

Re: Kylux, political machinations and power games

Re: Finn/Rey, carrying Rey after battle

FILL: Kylux, big tits humiliation (1/2)

FILL: Kylux, big tits humiliation (2/2)

Endymion and I - 21/?

Re: FILL: Kylux, big tits humiliation (2/2)

Re: FILL: Kylux, big tits humiliation (2/2)

Re: Endymion and I - 21/?

Prostitute! Rey/ Client! Kylo-Prostitution, Oral

Re: minifill: Poe/young hot original trio

Re: Stormpilot ABO - Clueless Alpha Finn