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dragonlady7via http://ift.tt/2eqUwNF:
so the porn epilogue for the Found Cat AU. i don’t know that anyone cares about this as much as i do, but oh i do. nsfwish behind cut. just a preview.
it’s Poe POV. The whole epilogue grew out of the extra scene from Poe’s POV, so it’s all his take, which is a shame, but I needed to know what his deal was.
“I was a pilot,” Poe said, “and pilots tend to be superstitious.” He licked his lower lip and grinned. “I have a bunch of tattoos like that.”
“I never would have guessed,” Finn said, and his expression went a little avid.
“Oh no,” Poe said, laughing happily, “now you’re going to find them all, aren’t you.”
“I sure am,” Finn said. He pushed himself up, skimming a hand across Poe’s belly, and bent to kiss the tattoo on his hip. Poe shivered ticklishly, mostly because Finn’s breath was hot against his cock and he was trying not to think about that too much. Finn sat up, then, and looked over the front of Poe’s torso. There were no tattoos on his chest or belly, but farther down, on his thigh, there was one curling around the outside of his thigh midway up from his knee, and Finn grabbed his leg and bent it to look. “What’s this?”
“It’s some Maya symbols,” Poe said, “my mom was from– oh!” Finn used his hold on Poe’s leg to flip him, easily, and oh no, Poe was really into that, he’d been trying not to let on. “Hngh.”
There were tattoos on the backs of both of Poe’s thighs, and Finn laughed in delight, running his hands over them. The leg that didn’t have the glyphs had another tattoo down on the calf, wrapping around to above the ankle bone, and Finn traced that, then pulled Poe’s leg up to investigate the little tattoo over the top of his foot that curled down toward the arch. Poe was effectively pinned on his face, now, and he could probably have broken Finn’s hold, but sweet Christ he didn’t want to, he was almost beyond speech with how turned-on he was. Finn was just so confident, strong and competent and gentle, like he knew how a human body needed to be handled and wouldn’t exert more pressure than necessary, but had no shyness about exerting pressure at all.
“These are cool,” Finn said. He turned Poe’s foot easily– he just knew which direction it could go comfortably, and put it there, no hesitation or awkwardness or force necessary. “It’s your name and– you have a serial number too.”
“Yeah,” Poe said, and explaining the trend of getting your dog tag info tattooed on you for ease of remains identification was beyond him, but he did feel like he had to explain. “It was voluntary though. I wanted that there.”
“Why here?” Finn asked.
Poe breathed for a moment; he was so turned-on he was almost blissed-out with it. “Boots,” he said. “Sometimes– I was a pilot. If there’s fire sometimes the only parts of you left are what’s in your boots. So, ID label.”
“Oh,” Finn said, “that makes sense,” and he was so unconcerned– Poe remembered that he wasn’t a civilian. That absolutely did just make sense to him, and didn’t upset him at all like it had every civilian who had ever noticed it before. He ran his hand up the back of Poe’s leg. “Hey, are you okay?”
“I’m so turned-on,” Poe confessed. “I’m so turned-on I. Sentences. Can’t.”
Finn laughed, and then he caught sight of the tattoo at the back of Poe’s hip. “Does that one just say ‘Lucky’?”
“It’s my classiest tattoo,” Poe said, and sweet Jesus, Finn bent down and licked it. It was one of those little text-banners, and it said “Lucky” in script and was wound through an upright horseshoe and a four-leaf clover, and Poe had gotten it on a dare at the height of his cocky phase. It had won him several bets in bars. It had not saved him from his career-ending crash.
“Is it that you’re lucky, or that whoever’s seeing it is lucky?” Finn asked, breath hot and damp and right next to Poe’s ass and he still had Poe’s ankle in his hand so Poe was still de facto pinned in place facedown and his brain was pegged in overload, his whole body tingling. He’d felt like this before but not from such innocuous contact.
“You tell me,” Poe managed to say.
so the porn epilogue for the Found Cat AU. i don’t know that anyone cares about this as much as i do, but oh i do. nsfwish behind cut. just a preview.
it’s Poe POV. The whole epilogue grew out of the extra scene from Poe’s POV, so it’s all his take, which is a shame, but I needed to know what his deal was.
“I was a pilot,” Poe said, “and pilots tend to be superstitious.” He licked his lower lip and grinned. “I have a bunch of tattoos like that.”
“I never would have guessed,” Finn said, and his expression went a little avid.
“Oh no,” Poe said, laughing happily, “now you’re going to find them all, aren’t you.”
“I sure am,” Finn said. He pushed himself up, skimming a hand across Poe’s belly, and bent to kiss the tattoo on his hip. Poe shivered ticklishly, mostly because Finn’s breath was hot against his cock and he was trying not to think about that too much. Finn sat up, then, and looked over the front of Poe’s torso. There were no tattoos on his chest or belly, but farther down, on his thigh, there was one curling around the outside of his thigh midway up from his knee, and Finn grabbed his leg and bent it to look. “What’s this?”
“It’s some Maya symbols,” Poe said, “my mom was from– oh!” Finn used his hold on Poe’s leg to flip him, easily, and oh no, Poe was really into that, he’d been trying not to let on. “Hngh.”
There were tattoos on the backs of both of Poe’s thighs, and Finn laughed in delight, running his hands over them. The leg that didn’t have the glyphs had another tattoo down on the calf, wrapping around to above the ankle bone, and Finn traced that, then pulled Poe’s leg up to investigate the little tattoo over the top of his foot that curled down toward the arch. Poe was effectively pinned on his face, now, and he could probably have broken Finn’s hold, but sweet Christ he didn’t want to, he was almost beyond speech with how turned-on he was. Finn was just so confident, strong and competent and gentle, like he knew how a human body needed to be handled and wouldn’t exert more pressure than necessary, but had no shyness about exerting pressure at all.
“These are cool,” Finn said. He turned Poe’s foot easily– he just knew which direction it could go comfortably, and put it there, no hesitation or awkwardness or force necessary. “It’s your name and– you have a serial number too.”
“Yeah,” Poe said, and explaining the trend of getting your dog tag info tattooed on you for ease of remains identification was beyond him, but he did feel like he had to explain. “It was voluntary though. I wanted that there.”
“Why here?” Finn asked.
Poe breathed for a moment; he was so turned-on he was almost blissed-out with it. “Boots,” he said. “Sometimes– I was a pilot. If there’s fire sometimes the only parts of you left are what’s in your boots. So, ID label.”
“Oh,” Finn said, “that makes sense,” and he was so unconcerned– Poe remembered that he wasn’t a civilian. That absolutely did just make sense to him, and didn’t upset him at all like it had every civilian who had ever noticed it before. He ran his hand up the back of Poe’s leg. “Hey, are you okay?”
“I’m so turned-on,” Poe confessed. “I’m so turned-on I. Sentences. Can’t.”
Finn laughed, and then he caught sight of the tattoo at the back of Poe’s hip. “Does that one just say ‘Lucky’?”
“It’s my classiest tattoo,” Poe said, and sweet Jesus, Finn bent down and licked it. It was one of those little text-banners, and it said “Lucky” in script and was wound through an upright horseshoe and a four-leaf clover, and Poe had gotten it on a dare at the height of his cocky phase. It had won him several bets in bars. It had not saved him from his career-ending crash.
“Is it that you’re lucky, or that whoever’s seeing it is lucky?” Finn asked, breath hot and damp and right next to Poe’s ass and he still had Poe’s ankle in his hand so Poe was still de facto pinned in place facedown and his brain was pegged in overload, his whole body tingling. He’d felt like this before but not from such innocuous contact.
“You tell me,” Poe managed to say.
