Me either. I think I was actively trying not to imagine it, for a while.
[ Because a year ago, she couldn't have imagined even being here — on this damn ship, in love with two men, fighting against the Empire with nothing more than a blaster and those fools at her side. At first, she was angry with herself for wanting to stay, wanting to be with them — but now, she can hardly imagine being without them anymore. Sometimes, if she dwells on it too much, it frightens her, and she has to fight that instinct to flee from all of it.
But right now, she's wrapped up in the moment, unable to even imagine being somewhere else. Or with anyone else. Right then, she's so fucking in love with him, and it feels so good to be close like this. It takes a conscious effort not to hastily sink down into his lap all at once. A wavering exhale escapes her as she slowly eases herself onto him, her thighs tight with work of it. As she lowers her hips, each of those little shallow thrusts goes a gradually deeper, and she feels almost hyperaware of it — every inch, slipping further in.
When there's nowhere left to go, she lingers there for a moment, sitting there with her arms draped over his shoulders, holding him to her as he mouths at her skin. Thoughtlessly, she digs her blunt nails into his shoulder blades just so, as if to vent a tiny fraction of the intense feeling in her chest. ]
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Me either. I think I was actively trying not to imagine it, for a while.
[ Because a year ago, she couldn't have imagined even being here — on this damn ship, in love with two men, fighting against the Empire with nothing more than a blaster and those fools at her side. At first, she was angry with herself for wanting to stay, wanting to be with them — but now, she can hardly imagine being without them anymore. Sometimes, if she dwells on it too much, it frightens her, and she has to fight that instinct to flee from all of it.
But right now, she's wrapped up in the moment, unable to even imagine being somewhere else. Or with anyone else. Right then, she's so fucking in love with him, and it feels so good to be close like this. It takes a conscious effort not to hastily sink down into his lap all at once. A wavering exhale escapes her as she slowly eases herself onto him, her thighs tight with work of it. As she lowers her hips, each of those little shallow thrusts goes a gradually deeper, and she feels almost hyperaware of it — every inch, slipping further in.
When there's nowhere left to go, she lingers there for a moment, sitting there with her arms draped over his shoulders, holding him to her as he mouths at her skin. Thoughtlessly, she digs her blunt nails into his shoulder blades just so, as if to vent a tiny fraction of the intense feeling in her chest. ]
You feel good. [ Quietly: ] Don't stop.