╡ ᴳᴱᴺᴱᴿᴬᴸ ᴳᴵᴺᴳᴱᴿ ╞

feel free to change pronouns if needed ! ____ signifies a place where you can insert a name. 

— P O L E D A N C E R // fly. away. —

           YOU CUT IT AWAY                                             AND YOU FILLED ME UP WITH                                                                     HATE

             ICARUS IS FLYING                             TOO CLOSE TO THE                                                          SUN

          🔪WHEN HE FIRST MOVED TO NEW YORK he had no plan, all he had wanted was to leave home, find himself, be whoever he had to be, instead of what his father wanted him to be. That took him into a dangerous life, full of life or death situations, where he wasn’t that sure if he wanted to belong, but it’s been so long now, that he was used to that lifestyle - it was everything he had known after all. His issue with Bliss was what got him in the path of Palpatine’s mobster family, and life pretty much changed for him.

          At first it has been terrible, but now he couldn’t complain. He had a good life in between his job, he wasn’t required all the time, which was good, it helped him to figure out his life, have a social life after all. Lovers weren’t as frequent though, but there was one, who was currently sitting across from him on the table, it was a secret - or so he hoped - since their bosses weren’t always in good terms, they couldn’t exactly play Romeo and Juliet - Shakespeare already proved that ends in tragedy.

          Poe smirked at that - took another sip, before finally giving a drag to his cigarette. He rarely smoked, in social events or after sex was the most common times for it. The black haired looked at the ginger, he was probably the only one who wouldn’t flinch as his aspect. “Are you for real going to bet more, Hux?” He asked amused by the challenge - just one more Ace and he was going to win the hand, still he raised the bet.

“I thought you didn’t know what you were doing,” Hux murmured, watching him shift his attention from drink, to cigarette, to his face. It almost annoyed him, how fearlessly the other man looked at him. Nobody else behaved as if they could tolerate meeting his eyes. Eye. He took another drag at his own cigarette, meeting Poe’s gaze levelly. He probably didn’t have winning cards, but at least one of Poe’s men had folded already, and he was sure his own wouldn’t be far behind. 

He had almost hoped they’d be alone tonight. Attempts on Solo’s life were rare at best, and he wasn’t exceptionally concerned about his safety. He’d never fucked up yet, after all. And-- as inadvisable as their private activities were, there was a part of him that almost craved it. 

He lifted his brows in a look of mock boredom, eyes moving briefly over his own cards, as if to check what his hand looked like. “Why not bet more? I have a good hand, and you already said you don’t know what the fuck you’re doing.” Speaking somewhat emotionlessly, almost teasing Poe. “Unless you’d like to rephrase..?” 

@first-order-general​ liked for a starter;

          🔪IT WAS A CALM NIGHT FOR HIM AS HE SAT BY THE TABLE of the pub his boss owned. He was - as cliche as it would be - in the basement playing poker with two of his subordinates, against two bodyguards of Solo’s staff, Hadrian being one of them. Hadrian Hux was by far more important than any other bodyguard he played poker with - because he was used to these sort of games being a lot more intimate and personal, that of course when they were on their own. Both were sure that if their bosses found out, things wouldn’t end well.

          Upstairs the party was loud, and around ten of his men were guarding Palpatine for him. In most cases like these he wouldn’t have the obligation to come, having a staff of bodyguards to take care of their boss, but he was asked by the man himself to enjoy the night so here he was, playing cards, losing like an idiot for his inhability to know the game, but mostly having a good time.

          A huff escaped his lips suddenly as he eyed the cards in his hands. “This is a nightmare.” He complained. “I don’t have any idea of what the fuck I’m doing with this. I don’t even know why I agree to play with you guys.” He snickered, pausing to have a sip of his whiskey. “I mean… I’m full of aces… is that good?”

He narrowed his remaining good eye at Dameron, suspicious as ever. He didn’t like these events-- in fact, there was very little about this job that he enjoyed at all. Not nothing, of course. He’d had his share of pleasant moments, when he and Palpatine’s bodyguard found themselves alone together, but for the most part he was just waiting until he was able to go back to active duty. It kept getting delayed for some reason. First, because they were waiting for his face to heal-- and then because the psych wouldn’t clear him, and now-- 

There was a part of him that knew he wasn’t going back. But if he let that part of him speak loudly enough for him to hear-- if he couldn’t go back, he didn’t know what he would do. Because this couldn’t be a permanent job. It would drive him mad. Even if he’d had those moments with Poe that he almost truly enjoyed--- it wouldn’t make up for having to put up with the spoiled senator’s son, having to trail him all over town while he blundered his way through society. And keep him safe from the kinds of situations he seemed to attract.