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galacticwildfire · 19 days

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Early Mornings

Poe Dameron x Solo!oc

summary: poe dameron and hope solo have places to be, but the only place they want to be is in bed

tags/warnings: essentially a non-sexual situationship (they're disgustingly in love but in denial), cuddling, flirting, kissing that borders on smutty, references to sex and jealousy, some suggestive dialogue, a little angst and brief reference to trauma, but sickeningly sweet fluff overall

word count: 2.8k

a/n: this is a scene I've written for my series fire meet gasoline on ao3 but it's been sitting in my notes app for too long to not share it as a stand alone one shot. also gif for obvious reasons.

The feeling of Poe's arms unconsciously tightening around my body's what stirs me awake in the early hours of the morning. While I can vaguely remember falling asleep listening to the steady beat of his heart it seems that sometime in the night we ended up with my back flush to his chest and our limbs tangled. Any space we'd left between us in the late hours of last night long gone.

My lips brush the arm he has tucked beneath my head as I look back over my shoulder, finding his head buried in the crook of my neck and still sound asleep. The feeling of him nuzzling into me's a now familiar sensation I let myself bathe in for as long as I can before forcing myself to remember that we have places to be.

The only downside to these mornings is the tragic fact that they have to end, especially when physically removing myself from him is a feat in itself. I may as well be struggling against a Wookie with the amount of strength it takes to pull myself from Poe Dameron's arms. Although I'd never want it any other way.

BB-8 beeps good morning and after returning it I glance at the time, reluctantly and very carefully untangling myself from Poe before he can wake up, a learned skill. Knowing the amount of sleepless nights we've both had in the past weeks I decide to take the first shower to let him sleep that little bit longer.

My spare flight suit’s folded in the drawer that had been empty until recently, along with the towel that’s made its way into Poe’s room along with other necessities. Despite having everything that I need when I sleep over I haven’t been able to give up the shirt he’d loaned me to sleep in, not that he seems to mind.

Finding my hairpins on his bathroom counter drives home how routine this arrangement’s become to the point that I don’t know how I slept any other way, how mere months ago I was out there in the Outer Rims alone and now… now I can’t imagine doing any of this without him.

He’s still asleep when I come out in my flight suit, finding him with the blanket bundled up in his arms in place of where I’d been. The sight has my heart clenching and BB-8 beeps quietly to ask if he should wake him up.

“I’ve got it,” I say, leaning down to rub his head as I make my way over to Poe, reluctant to wake him up but people are going to start asking questions if we’re both late to our third meeting this week. My mother would start asking questions, and this is something I wouldn’t quite know how to explain to her.

“Poe,” I hum as I sit down on the edge of his bed, running my fingers through his messed curls until he begins to stir. “Morning.”

He blinks in confusion when he can’t feel me beside him, but the tension leaves his face when his eyes find mine.

“Hey,” he smiles tiredly and murmurs “What are you doing all the way over there?”

“We’ve got a meeting.”

“We do?”

“Come on, Commander,” I say, brushing back the dark curls that fall across his forehead. “I thought it was your job to know these things.”

His eyes are warm as he leans into my touch. “I’ve been a little preoccupied.”

“That can easily be fixed-” I begin, slowly withdrawing my hand until he stops me.

“No, no,” he quickly says, and I’m smiling as he pulls my hand back and holds it to his cheek. His eyes fall shut as his lips brush my palm, his morning stubble a welcome feeling. “Don’t you dare.”

I can’t help but lean down to kiss his cheek, bumping his nose with mine as I insist “Come on or we’ll be late. I’ll grab our caf and see you there.”

“Hey, caf’s my job,” he protests as I reluctantly pull back but relents. “How late are we?”

“We’ve got about half an hour, so take a shower and I’ll meet you in the mess.”

“Yes, Captain,” he says, and rolls onto his back while still holding my hand in his, looking up at me with his brows drawn together as he questions “Since when are you up early?”

“Since I’m actually sleeping well,” I say and he gives me a tired smile that I’m helpless to adore.

“Me too, sweetheart.”

“Yeah?” I say softly, knowing that hasn’t been the case for either of us these past weeks.

He nods and brings my hand back to his lips, kissing my knuckles. “I mean, I sure as hell don’t wanna get out of bed.”

I catch the glint of mischief in his eye the moment before he tugs me back into bed with him, somehow managing to roll me so I’m lying on my back in the small space and he’s hovering above me - not that I’m putting up much of a fight.

“Which is why I got out of it before you woke up,” I whine as he nestles his head in the crook of my neck and slips an arm back around my waist, intentionally pinning me to the bed with his bodyweight to keep me from moving. “Since someone likes to cling to me like a sloth.”

He lifts his head up with a proud smile. “A handsome sloth.”

“That’s true,” I agree, helpless to deny that as he bumps my nose. “But that face won’t help you when you’re late.”

“It’s helped me so far,” he dismisses, his stubble grazing my skin as he kisses my forehead. “Might not be enough to get me out of trouble but it’s enough to keep you here.”

My jaw drops a little at the audacity but I can’t argue considering he knows damn well it’s the truth as I shake my head at him. “That damn face - my one weakness.”

“It’s alright sweetheart, yours is mine as well,” he assures me as he peppers kisses across my face. “Those eyes… you know I can’t say no to you so-” I whine again as he pulls back and moves his body off mine, settling between me and the wall. “I’ll let you get going and I’ll meet you in the mess.”

He knows he has me where he wants me and I couldn’t care less as I tug him back by the fabric of his shirt and he certainly doesn’t make any effort to resist as he gathers me back up in his arms, settling over me with his elbow propping him up this time.

“No, you’re stuck with me now,” I decide and I’m holding his face as I pepper kisses from his cheek to the bridge of his nose, our bodies melding as our legs tangle together.

He kisses my jaw while he teases “Isn’t being clung to all night enough for you?” It’s then he turns his head to look at me and his lips incidentally brush mine, although it’s far from the first time.

Still, his breath hitches and my voice trembles slightly as I ask “What do you think?”

He searches my eyes, seeking whatever it is he’s looking for before our lips meet. Again, far from the first time. Another in a long series of kisses we’ve sworn wouldn’t happen again and yet we always end up here. The softness of his lips has me trying to recall every reason we’ve used for why this can’t happen.

The fact that we’re a disaster at the best of times.

That we both have the tendency to let our emotions cloud our judgement until it ends in screaming fights in the middle of the hangar.

The fact that he’s still my commanding officer and we’re on fragile enough footing with high command as it is, even if everyone knows we operate as partners.

That all it would take is one bad call in the field and we’re both dead.

The fact that he’s my best friend, my partner, the one damn person in this galaxy I trust whole heartedly.

Knowing that I’d lose my mind if anything ever happened to him.

If I lost him-

My back arches off the bed as his tongue slips into my mouth and he swallows the sound that comes from the back of my throat as the hand that was under me moves to squeeze my waist. He gasps softly as my fingers slip into his hair in return, gently tugging at his curls to pull him closer - needing him closer.

It’s when my legs hook around his hips that BB-8’s beeping reminds us that he’s still there and we both flush in embarrassment. R2’s been around long enough that he doesn’t linger past a certain time, even when Poe and I’s affection is innocent, but despite being a romantic sweet BB-8 isn’t prepared to see anything more than this.

And Poe and I certainly aren’t prepared to put on a show for him.

Still, I can’t help but burst out laughing when Poe murmurs in my ear “We have an audience.” He kisses my forehead again before clearing his throat. “Hey buddy, why don’t you go see what R2’s up to?”

He gives an offended beep, both at his dismissal and us forgetting his presence, before finding his way out and we share a look of mortified guilt. I’m trying to hold back embarrassed laughter while Poe’s head dips to my shoulder to kiss where my collarbone's exposed by the partially zipped flightsuit before he again slips into the bed beside me, holding me close with a caressing hand over my hip.

“I’m guessing you haven’t had to kick BB-8 out before?” I tread, knowing that I’m the only person Poe’s had sleeping over since he’s joined the Resistance, but I can’t help the pang of jealousy at the thought of him being with someone else like this.

“Like I’ve told you sweetheart, I’ve been living like a Jedi since before Leia recruited me,” he says, settling those thoughts with a kiss to my forehead. “I think he’s just mad I’ve been taking your attention away from him.”

“I still give him plenty of love,” I assure Poe and he tugs me closer, his lips lingering on my temple as I bury my face in his neck. “Five more minutes, then we’ll get up.”

“What happened to we’re gonna be late?” he teases and I just groan. “Hope…”

“I know, I know,” I pout, rolling back enough so that my face rests beside his on the pillow we’ve shared more often than not the past few weeks. “I just wanna stay here with you.”

I search his eyes, praying he hears what I really want to say. That I want it to be just you and me. No First Order. No protocol. Just us. Raw and mostly unfiltered.

He plays with my fingers, kissing each one individually before he meets my eye and I know that he does. “How about after the meeting I swap patrols with Karé so we can go out together?” he suggests. “It’s been a while since it’s been just the two of us and our x-wings.”

“Because command nearly has a nervous breakdown every time we go out there together,” I remind him, lacing our fingers together. “I believe the words ‘tie-fighter magnets’ were used.”

Neither of us can pretend we aren’t proud of that label.

“Well, it’s a good thing that the two best pilots in the galaxy can take them out then,” he says but I don’t miss the way his face falls when he remembers what happened the only time we couldn’t. Even now I can't shake the sound of the pure fear in his voice when he pulled me from the crash. He kisses my hand again and tries to push it from his mind but the memory lingers. “It’s you and me, and the patrols Leia’s got scheduled shouldn’t be dangerous.”

“Famous last words,” I say and he can’t argue with that considering command’s right when it comes to our track record. “But I’d like that. You and me.”

“Me too sweetheart,” he says, stretching as he lays back, both of us ignoring the fact that we’re definitely not making it to breakfast before the meeting. “But first I’ve gotta shower, get dressed-” he trails off, deciding to be a little shit as he grins “Unless you wanna join?”

I’m matching his grin with a playful slap to his chest. “Then we’d definitely be late.”

“I didn’t hear a no.”

He can see me blushing red and he still wears that same cocky smile that I’m more than tempted to kiss off his face. I don’t know how many times he and I have been on this ledge, teasing and tempted to go further, only to treat this with more caution than we’ve given to anything else in our lives.

“Are you trying to call my bluff? Because we both know how that ends.”

This is one thing, waking up together and sharing these kisses that we don’t acknowledge. This we can still fool ourselves into believing is the pinnacle of platonic love, a playful extension of the affection we share - an unconventional partnership.

Sex is another thing entirely.

When we’d first met and things got heated I wanted it, and I wanted it with him, but we both know that this partnership is too delicate to handle those emotions on top of all the others we can scarcely deal with on our best days.

“Oh I know,” he assures me. “Considering the last time I tried to call your bluff you took a shot at me.”

“You were the one who said I wouldn’t do it,” I remind him, blaming that one on a bout of temporary insanity on both our parts after a dogfight gone wrong. “What can I say? You drive me crazy.”

“I know,” he grins. “The good kind of crazy I hope.”

“Always,” I smile before correcting. “Well, most of the time.”

“Alright, we’d be lying if we didn’t say most,” he admits and we share a laugh knowing that everyone on base, even our own squadron, was at their wits end with us not that long ago but here… it’s just us and no one else.

Unfortunately that has to come to an end, but not before I press a chaste kiss to his lips. “Breakfast in fifteen.”

“Yes, Captain,” he smiles as I sit upright, but raises an eyebrow upon deciding to try his luck. “I can make it in ten if you give me another one.”

And so I do, only for us to end up right back where we started; in the bed with his hands on my waist and mine tangled in his hair. The gentle swipe of his tongue across my bottom lip has me planning to use the dwindling privileges that being the General's daughter brings to get away with being late by at least another half an hour, although Poe puts a stop to that as if he wasn’t the one who started this.

“Poe,” I whine when he pulls away, sitting up properly and leaving me with my head on his pillow. "Why do you do this?"

He still has the audacity to play around and take his sick enjoyment in riling me up. “We have meetings, remember?”

My eyes narrow at him. “Bastard.”

“What was that?”

“Bastard,” I repeat and he grins.

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“Mmhmm.”

“Come on beautiful,” he murmurs as he pulls me upright and I just laugh.

“Oh no, don’t ‘come on’ me when you’re the one that dragged me back into bed.”

He gives an unapologetic shrug but the warmth in his eyes makes up for it. “You missed the beautiful part.”

I shake my head and he kisses me again before I have to put my hands on his chest to keep enough distance between us that I can actually get out of the bed and away from it without him pulling me back into it.

“We’re gonna be so late and you still need to get ready,” I lecture, knowing I’ll be the one getting the blame for it considering he’s the favourite.

“Give me ten minutes to get ready and I’ll meet you in the mess,” he promises, extending a pinkie out to me but I’m not naive enough to get close enough for him to pull me back in. “Considering your track record Leia expects us to be about twenty minutes late anyways.”

I scrunch my face up at him but he only smiles.

“You’re really cute when you’re pretending to be mad at me.”

The smile I can’t force back only proves his point. “Shut up.”

“Make me,” he challenges, having woken up intent to test me but I'm not falling into his trap again.

“After the meeting,” I promise before heading out the door to find BB-8 waiting outside for us with R2. “Come on, you can keep me company while he drags himself out of bed.”

We're halfway to the mess when we come across Jess who's in a rush. "There you are, Threepio's been looking for you and Poe. Have you seen him?"

"Yeah he's just in the shower," I say as I continue on my way, only to freeze a little as she turns her head back incredulously.

"How do you know-"

"BB-8 told me," I quickly follow up and she blinks at me in disbelief before she shakes her head and keeps walking, but at this point Poe and I have accepted the fact that our squadron believes we're hiding some illicit affair from them.

Then again, it's always poor Jess who seems to catch us in compromising positions. Although as long as it's her and not my mother, or maker forbid Threepio, I can live in peace with that.

#poe dameron #oc: hope solo #poe dameron x solo!oc #poe dameron fluff #poe dameron x oc #poe dameron x f!oc #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron x female original character #poe dameron x original character #poe dameron fanfiction #galacticwildfire #fic: fire meet gasoline #poe dameron fic #poe dameron one shot

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phoeebsbuffay · 2 years

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Imagine: Padmé dies in an attack coordinated by the Sith. Anakin dwells in grief and the result could be catastrophic. What, however, will be your role in it?

Warnings: lots of drama, but always having fluff endings because that’s how I roll (and because Anakin is always miserable in “SW” the poor thing); and smut. Minors, do not read it.

Recommendations: there’s something about “All Too Well” by Taylor Swift here—you may want to listen if you want to really feel the angst—and “Fire Meet Gasoline” by Sia. 🤭

***

You’ve known Anakin for years, had grown up together in Tatooine before being dragged to the Jedi Temple because the Force was felt as powerful in the boy as in you, his constant companion.

That’s what you were. A close companion to one another. So different, but so similar. Where you internalized your temper, he extruded it. Simple as that. Both of you were trained by Obi-Wan, often making him sigh heavily and wonder what did he to do to Maker frown upon him?

But where you were cautious, he was reckless. Where you were overthinking, he was not. But even in missions together, as you grew, traits overlooked as faults completed each other and could actually be helpful in the success of the mission.

You were his confident at the end of the day, it had always been like this. You were there when he was smitten with Padmé, an idea that suddenly did not fit so well to you.

And he could tell that.

“Is it because I’m breaking the rules again, isn’t it?”

You sighed. You figured it could be a different reason, but good in masking feelings, you thought you should bury the truth. First, because Jedis were strongly advised not to form attachments. Second, because you wanted him to be happy. At what cost? At yours, but you were ready for it.

“I just worry for you”, you told him, which was not entirely a lie.

You came to reason yourself that you’ve made a vow the day you were knighted a Jedi, more than aware of what the risks you might incur to when you left so many possibilities to serve a cause you came to commit genuinely. You realized, from this point of view, that you could deal with the amount of unresolved matters by yourself. But this should not prevent you from being friends. You could handle that, and you would.

“Y/Nickname” he said, using the pet name he often addressed you ever since you were toddlers. “Come on. I know you better than this.”

You hated to lie, especially to him. In fact, Anakin had something in his heart about this, how you reacted strangely to his confession. He could tell, when looking into y/eye color, that something about him and Padmé had made you unhappy.

And Anakin sensed that this might cost your friendship, something he was not inclined to bargain, less so losing ir. You were the reason why he was there: he told Qui-Gon Jinn that he would never be part of the Jedi Order if Y/N was not there with him. He was attached to you. There were nights he had nightmares and you were there to make them go away.

In his dark moments, whether he was being grumpy, sulking or crying, you were there for him. Anakin knew he’d never let you go. Perhaps he was even inclined to sacrifice his own happiness if this meant that you’d stay. And yet, he felt you were pushing him away, a possibility that he was not accepting well.

“Trying to read my mind will not help your side, my man”, you broke the awkward silence by making him laugh.

You stepped closer to him and embraced him. His scent was difficult to bare, it smelled like an invitation to kiss and.. oh shush yourself, you reprehended yourself mentally.

Reluctantly you let him go. You wanted to assure him everything was well, especially because you became aware he was battling his sentiments. It would be selfish you to impose him such sadness. On the contrary, you came to see that his happiness meant so much for you. Therefore, you paid a double effort to assure him about it, which was not a lie. You once heard that love was letting go the beloved one and always hope for their happiness. This suddenly made sense of you.

After a while, Anakin believed in you. When he smiled, your fears disappeared. All was well between the two of you. No need for fear of losing each other.

Until the day he came back from a mission. Anakin told you he had secretly taken Senator Amídala as his wife. As much as you congratulated him and joined him in secretive celebrations, your broken heart was in pieces and you bled.

That night, Anakin was disturbed, though, because he felt your pain. Barely he knew how you could not sleep because you cried to yourself. You sobbed, blaming yourself for suffering like this. Whilst he could not figure it out the reason, because you masked your signature, he knew you were not well.

But the next day you feigned so well that nothing had happened that he reluctantly let that pass. Perhaps he was imagining things. Perhaps he was being overly paranoid. But his heart remained uneasy nonetheless. However, as time went by and missions required you to team up with each other, this small tension went undetected. Duties came before desires, and besides you were content with his friendship. In the end, you made peace with what lied in your heart, especially because you were too aware that forming attachments would do you little good.

So wherever Anakin went, you followed. Obi-Wan once sighed:

“Why, whenever something bad happens, you two must be involved?!”

But then… you were concerned with his happiness. To the point yours ghosted you. Where did it go?

You had little time to dwell upon it. As you developed your powers, proving your worth to the Jedi Council, you were assigned more tasks. These occupied your mind enough to let go of that aching longing for someone who was supposed to be your friend.

Anakin, on the other hand, could tell something was amiss. The day he saw you leaving, he had a bad feeling about this mission you were assigned to. He wanted to tell you not to, but based on what he was meant to go against the Council’s orders?

His eyes lingered in you. The ponytail, the blue lightsaber that was on your back because you learned with Anakin’s bad experience in almost missing his lightsabers every time you were flying, the confidence that often mirrored his arrogance. But the magic of your friendship seemed to fade as he watched you joke with Rex.

Why weren’t you doing that to him?

He suffocated this odd sentiment. But moved by a bad feeling he had to you, he went to talk to you. When you turned at him, Anakin suddenly knew. He remembered all too well when you received him warmly, when you hugged him a little more than usual, when you comforted him. There was something that he could decode, but now he did.

“Hey, Y/nickname”, he greeted you like he did. Why was he feeling weird? Why should this be different to him? You were looked at as if he feared to break your heart. “Please be careful when you are out there.”

You thought a little strange how he spoke of you. What had caused this change in him? Regardless of this sudden awkwardness, you said cheerfully:

“Ani, that’s okay. There’s no need to worry! I’ve done this as much as you.”

You rose your eyebrows and his laughters at your funny expressions dissolved this strange moment. He took you in an embrace and there you stayed. It was time to go.

“Come back to me, Y/nickname”, he whispered to himself as he watched you go. “Come back safe.”

You thought you heard something, but you didn’t give him much attention. You didn’t turn around. It would be for the best for you not to.

***

Whilst the temple was attacked and Anakin’s wife was assassinated in a bold move orchestrated by the Sith, resulting in deadly events that no one could foresee the consequences just as yet, you had been forced to deal with your own problems.

The mission went wrong. You lost most of your men. You were tortured by the hands of the General Grievous, but eventually what saved you was the explosion of emotions you suppressed.

Anakin felt it. He remembered howling it in pain because he thought you had died too. He was about to break loose.

What an irony. The Sith managed to wound the women he cared deeply, and he was again bound to serve the an Order that Anakin began to disassociate himself because of the blind vanity that began to corrupt some of the members of the Council.

It perhaps did not go worse as Obi-Wan feared because you were somehow rescued. Suffocated by the emotions you sought to suffocate, there were more than physical wounds. Your spirit broke.

Anakin was in the verge of his nerves when he saw you being taken to the physicians. For a moment, he was stunned. You lived. But the look on your face distraught him: something worse than he thought seemed to have been inflicted on you.

You too could tell something really bad had happened, not only the attack to the Jedi Temple, but something that targeted him somehow. The two of you locked gazes, but that was it. Neither dared to speak.

Those were dark days, with a future still developing ahead. But he sensed anger in you, though when he saw your features, there was nothing that uncovered the state of your heart. He went after you thus, frustrated. And right before your eyes, Anakin murdered the doctors.

“What the hell do you think you are doing?!”, you find yourself shouting at him, perplexed by that demonstration of anger.

He was strange, but so were you. Neither were yourselves these days.

“I’m taking you with me to Naboo. I’ll be the one to take care of you.”

“It’s kidnapping, Anakin!”, you remarked, partly amused by this fact, but as irritated as for him taking the reins of your lives without your consent.

“I don’t care.”

And he did not.

***

You were silent, not in Naboo, but somewhere in a far away galaxy. Distant from all that mess that befell on the Republic. You saw now that Anakin, after all he went through, sought comfort in you.

“I don’t think I can give you what you want”, you said.

As he tended your wounds, Anakin sensed the growth of darkness in you. How could you mirror him so much? The difference was that he was moved by the desperation of saving you. He knew too late what had occurred to you and he felt guilty for never attempting to make you stay. Perhaps if he did, everything would be different.

“Y/N”, he mumbled.

You were still hurt, broken in many aspects. What it was done to you brought to surface the sentiments you thought you did well in masking it. However, they boiled darkly, poisoned by the darkness that started flowing into you.

Anakin felt you were this close to explode. He saw as you took a seat, anxiety stamped in your face. Sadness, angst, pain. He felt you. He felt rejection in you, he…just knew all you went through.

All you did for him. Because you wanted him to be happy.

He swallowed his tears.

The silence was too much to bear. He took your hands, his muscles tensed. “Y/N talk to me…”

“You’ll turn yourself against me”, the words rolled out of her tongue. “You did it once. You abandoned me, Anakin!”

He sighed. Although you saw the two of you were going through bad difficulties, disturbing thus the Force around you, you could not be reasonable. It was like you were drowning in the waters of the Dark Force.

“Y/N…”

“I kept you like an oath! But you broke my heart! You promised me we’d stay together, but…” you exclaimed. You stood, confused, pacing around the ship. “I hate you!”

And there it was. You broke down. You wished you could yell and maybe you did, but Anakin knew too well how you felt. So he pulled you against him.

“You don’t. We are broken, that is all.” He closed his eyes. Same feeling, different sentiment flowed from one another.

Anakin held you against him. It was as if the two of you were one. Curiously, by providing you the solace you needed, his inclination to the dark manipulations input by the Chancellor began to fail.

He remembered all too well. All the two of you went through, all the subtle gestures that, whilst insignificant to others, he could tell how much they expressed the desires of your heart. Did he do the wrong choice? Anakin wept.

You though struggled against his touch, that burned you; against his gentleness and comprehensiveness that somehow communicated with the light that existed in you. But you could hear Grievous’s voice yelling: he will never love you.

He would not.

He grieved for Padmé.

And you grieved for your heart.

You wanted to be out of his arms, but you could not. Because from the moment you saw the look in his eyes…

You remembered the same. All too well.

The goodness in him, the sense of humor, the compassion, the willingness in helping those in need. You could not lose him like that.

You cupped his face in your hands. There was darkness in him, but you would not let this flow. You could not.

“I understand you. But we can go through this together, uh?”

The two of you locked gazes. Anakin felt hope, but he was scared to dive in it. Most important was to look after you

“Let’s go to that planet?” You suggested the planet Y/C, one that once held the best memories of your days.

Away from the Sith. Away from the Jedi. Away from the wars that bled you. Anakin’s lips twisted in a small smile. The magic of your friendship returned.

“Of course. Whatever you want, y/nickname, as long as we leave this shit hole.”

You chuckled. You both were a mess, but there was no need to speak of what happened. You won the temptation, that was what mattered.

For now.

***

He watched you in a simple dress teaching the ways of Jedi to the younglings who lived in the village where you settled down. Anakin felt peace in his heart when happiness was in your face. You were a great teacher and passionated about it.

He also noticed what he had not perceived before. How your brown-ish hair was long, falling down to your waist; when did you ever wear it down? He did not remember, but he thought you were prettier with it loose. The wind sometimes ruined your hair which made the former Jedi laugh to himself.

But when you were dancing in golden summer clothing with the women of the tribe… it was when desire was awake. Anakin noticed that he’d been hiding under the excuse of grief for so long. How could he not notice that?

You, on the other hand, ignored his feelings for you. You’d been in peace with the fact that he might not return these. You were actually considering to move on. There was a day at party where you wore a tiara on top of your head as you braided your hair and wore a more elaborated gown that showed a little of your collarbone.

One of the tribe man asked you dance and, to Anakin’s dismay, you actually accepted it! You sensed the dark in him again, something you had not sensed it for about three years. You excused from your dance partner and went after Anakin.

He was wearing his blue robes, his curly hair dropping graciously over his shoulders. Anakin sought comfort when looking at the ocean, ignoring your presence.

“Ani… What’s going on?” You asked him, slowly standing by his side. He refused to look at you. “I’ve never felt you this way before. Will you please talk to me?”

Anakin sighed. Aware he’d do that if it happened to you, he looked at you. You were so pretty. Your traces were more delicate now than before, you relaxed after all these years in constant combat. But… he didn’t want to share you. He was still plagued by the possessiveness that still inhabited inside him.

It took him years to realize that his biggest mistake was thinking he loved Padmé. Perhaps he did in his own way, but not like he loved you. He did not think he’d been struggling to this feeling until he saw you with somebody else. Did he get used to you nurturing sentiments for him and feared for you moving on? Maybe. But he always refused to lose you.

“I love you, Y/N.” It was all he said to summon his sentiments. The shock in you is evident. You clearly did not expect that. “It took me years to come to terms with myself that I made a big mistake by not marrying you.”

You did not know what to say. Anakin furrowed his eyebrows. He wasn’t expecting your stunned silence. He took your hands in him and made you look in his eyes.

“Please, talk to me”, he begged you.

“I… I don’t know what to say, Ani. I thought I was…”

“Just a friend?” He completed the sentence, even though he read more what you were about to say. “Never. You are so much more than that. You are the sun who brights my life, the reason why you saved me from going a dark path. You mean the world to me. You are everything I want and more.”

His words warmed your heart for you felt the truth in them. But you felt desire too. There was no point in fighting the urge of your heart or deny his. How surprised you were when you came to realize that the sentiment never left you: it had only matured.

You finally gave in to his demands by kissing his lips with passion, responding his pledges at long last. As you kissed, his hands cupped your frame, engulfing in an embraced.

“I cannot permit myself to lose you again”, Anakin spoke as he kissed you, feeling what you were feeling. Hasn’t it always been like this? If you were burning alive, he would gladly burn with you. “Let me be consumed for all these years you’ve been waiting for me, Y/N.”

You moaned softly against his lips, unable to respond because you needed him so badly. Soon, he took you back to your home. It was a simple household that nonetheless fit your needs. The bed you shared was once cold, but now it felt welcoming. Warming. Hot.

He laid you down carefully, as if he saw your fragilities. He wanted to tend you. Anakin came to realize that all the traumas were leaving the two of you at long last. Because you healed one another by loving each other.

You put him over your body, removing your gown all the while you laced your legs around his waist.

“Burn with me tonight.”

Anakin smirked down at you, eyes going dark with lust. As he removed his nightshirt, he saw how much you desires him.

“It will be a long night, my love.”

He also read what was implied in your smirk, by how much you wanted him. He’d give you all you required of him.

Admiring your nudeness, he wanted to take his time. You never felt so desired before as he eyed you intently. Then you are surprised by how he used the Force to pin your hands above your head.

“You are mine”, Anakin leant down to peck your lips, gently bitting down your bottom lip, as his hands caress your sides. “Do you understand me?”

As gentle as was his voice, the soft darkness that were always his was seen rising. Yet, you had long accepted that this was part of who you were. Light needed darkness as it did the other way around, otherwise, there was no balance in the Force.

You watched as he caressed your neck before moving down to cup your breasts. He gently pinched your nipples, enjoying to feel them hardening under his touch.

“Well? I’m waiting for a response”, said he maliciously.

You smirked at him. “I am yours to be commanded, Master Skywalker.”

He laughed at how dirty you made sound the title he was never officially earned. But it suited him well. That dark side was perceptible as he looked down at you mischievously, full of himself.

“As you are mine”, said he in a softer tone, pecking your lips again.

Resuming his caressing touch, he was more gentle than you’d thought. Anakin wanted to go things slow with you, teasing all the while as he kissed your collarbone and down below.

As you gave in to him, your moans go louder. How you called his name made him harder. He watched you intently, more than entertained by how he ruined you when he inserted two fingers at once right in the between of your legs. This time he did not slow down. He wanted to see you going wild.

And you did. You certainly did. The next thing you know was rolling your hips and pulling him to you, kissing him hungrily. A complete mess, you felt his dark side again mewling in yours, a smirk twitching in the corner of his lips as you slide your hand to his pants, releasing his manhood. You desperately cupped his erect member into your hands, enjoying as you felt it pulsing against your palm. You teased him by increasing the rhythm, perhaps using the Force to aid you in the whole process.

“Fuck!” He let out a cry out. “Y/N, what the fuck you are…? Ah fuck! It’s good, you are so good!”

If this was what he meant by burning with you, well you were taking it to a next level. You wanted to please him as much as he’d been pleasing you. And you were feeling he was about to come undone. Like he felt so full of himself by ruining you not that long ago, you shared the feeling when you watched him going insane under the gentleness of your touch.

He was so close. He was so damn close.

And you surprise him by replacing your hand to your mouth. Anakin’s eyes went wide open at your bold move. This was, maybe, part of his darkest fantasies. One he in fact never had the courage to live with his former wife.

“Oh Maker!”

And he went right to release his seed in your mouth. He was never so aroused as to when he saw you reacting the way you did. Right after that, he could not think straight.

Anakin left all the gentleness behind when you were placed underneath his body. He may had forgotten you were actually doing it for the first time because he did thrust into you rather intensely.

But you enjoyed the pain that came with it. Your desire was burning you and he was joining you in it. He would not stop until his seed was inside you. And that is precisely what you wanted. To be left sensitive, to have him inside you.

All the kisses he left in your body made you shake under his touch, finally reaching the climax when he found the way back to your lips.

“I love you”, he mumbled as he moved inside you. Anakin searched for your eyes as he said so; he was preoccupied you’d not understand how he meant every word. “I love you so much that it hurts, Y/N.”

But he didn’t have to worry. The bliss on your face already reassured him that you never considered otherwise.

“I love you, Ani. Always and forever.”

And just as you said, the two of you reached the orgasm together.

***

This would be a new routine for you. It’d been worked for a while, but the difference remained on the fact that the two of you were married. Still disguised by the Force in that distant planet, you continued to live your life…now as a couple.

The day after your marriage, Anakin pulled you right against him. There were some traumas that woke him in the middle of the night, but for some reason he felt Padmé would bless his new union.

You gave him a new purpose to live, taking as he was, with good and bad moments. Anakin was still emotive when, in your vows, you told him he was your chosen one. Always was, and always will be.

He cuddled you against him, peppering your exposed bare skin with gentle kisses. Before you’d awake, he was already smirking because he could tell what you were dreaming about and why not beginning the day by pleasing you again.

Anakin was so happy as he watched you lean towards him, cuddling against him. His hand, the metallic one, slowly put away the white sheet of your bed, his eyes lingering in the swell of your breast. He immediately felt aroused by such sight. His eyes moved up to your face again, smiling at your angelical features.

As he slowly leant to kiss you, you began to awake. How impressed was he when he felt your desires. You were awake with a need of him. And before you knew, he was giving it to you.

After you made love again, you contemplated happily this perspective of becoming Mrs Skywalker. The two of you began to plan a family there, but as you watched him doing so, you couldn’t help but wonder how long the two of you would be content with this life.

You looked upon the skies and Anakin sensed your questions, coming right behind you as he snaked his arms around your waist.

“You are missing him, aren’t you?”

“I am”, you responded, slightly sad. “I wonder his whereabouts, Ani. Do you think we should..?”

To your surprise, he shook his head.

“Not yet.” He felt that maybe this was not the time. You could tell Anakin was not prepared to face him.

“But eventually, we’ll have to know.”

Anakin was quick to appease your anxieties. In truth, you thought peace was too easy for your taste. But soon the answer to your subtle disturb in Force would come.

So far, however, you realized that you’d not ruin your personal paradise for nothing. Instead, you turned and appreciated your life as Mrs Skywalker by the side of the man you loved.

***

Epilogue.

Despite being told she was not meant to go far from the line that divided the village from the wild forests, Leia felt the unknown call her. She took the opportunity that Luke had been busying himself building a ship for him to pilot whilst her parents were occupied with whatever they were doing, and decided to see for herself.

It was a strange calling. She did not know the reason why she sensed it. Luke would feel it too, but Leia didn’t think he took it seriously.

Reckless like her father was in his days, a trait that Anakin would brag all the while concerned you, Leia went to explore it. It was right when she was startled by the presence of a man whom she’d never seen before.

He was holding binoculars when he saw her right before him. The man was surprised for getting caught. How was he perceived? It was when he noticed she was scared, that he softened and smiled.

“Hello there.”

Leia knew she wasn’t meant to speak to strangers, but she felt the good in him. Whatever this actually meant. Well, she thought to herself, it means that you can trust him. Duh.

The ginger man laughed at her thoughts. He soon sought to sooth her concerns.

“No need to worry yourself, little one. I’m not going to hurt you. I see the Force is strong in you”, he said. “But we should discuss this later. How should I call you?”

“Leia”, she said rather timidly. “Who are you?”

The ginger male, who’d been on his knees to match her height, said calmly:

“I’m Obi-Wan Kenobi. But you may call me Ben. Can you take me to your parents?”

Leia gave him a long glance, distrustful at first. But then moved by a good feeling,she softened and smiled at him, before leading him the way back home.

It was when you and your husband heard your daughter calling for you.

“Mommy! Daddy! We have a guest! He wants to speak to you!”

Anakin was about to say something to Luke, something about not piloting yet because you didn’t approve, when he looked at your daughter and then at you.

As you moved outdoors, you were not only petrified, stupefied by the presence of your former master, but thrilled to see he was very much alive.

#star wars #Star Wars imagine #imagine Star Wars #Anakin Skywalker #Darth Vader #Princess Leia #luke skywalker #obi-wan Kenobi #Anakin Skywalker smut #Anakin Skywalker x y/n #Anakin Skywalker x reader #Anakin Skywalker x you #all too well #Taylor swift #fire meet gasoline #sia

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l4ngdonsad · 10 months

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the feeling of your hand touching my face with a gentle move, is all i ever wanted. your lipstick smells so good on my lips. i hope that you don’t mind if i stay here with you a bit longer.

#narcos #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #javier pena x y/n #javier pena x you #javier pena imagine #javier peña #the last of us #joel miller #fire meet gasoline #the mandalorian #need you

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diarrheathingwhenyoushit · 9 months

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Fem!Ryusae magical girls 💯

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manofbeskar · 2 years

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Flame you came to me, fire meet gasoline, I’m burning alive.

#insp: fire meet gasoline by sia #dincobb #marshmando #marshalorian #din x cobb #my art #din djarin #cobb vanth #the mandalorian #star wars

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cloudofbutterflies92 · 2 days

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Eden and Ghost NSFW Alphabet (MDNI)

(divider by @chloekistune )

Before starting I wanted to say that this is just a personal thing and that those who are not comfortable can move on, I understand 😌💚 (the SFW version will also arrive) so I advise you not to read below the cut

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

After sex they certainly prepare a hot bath together, relaxing and cuddling(maybe with some herbal tea)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner's)

Eden: His chest and his eyes (Ghost has a milky factory sorry not sorry)

Ghost: Her breasts (it's canon for me that the man in question is a boob worshiper, regardless of size) and her eyes (when she comes he has this thing of grabbing her by the chin and looking into her eyes)

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Eden:Even though she can't have children, she doesn't mind if Ghost comes inside her, sometimes even in her face while she's wearing glasses.

Ghost: Him everywhere, he doesn't care where but he basically loves her nectar

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Eden: She is a domme and loves shibari (a Japanese practice that includes ropes for those who don't know) and sometimes with him they doing that

Ghost: He is a nuru massage enthusiast, he loves having oil massage sex

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?)

Eden: She had several experiences before Ghost, all in which she didn't feel in perfect control of the situation

Ghost:He had some experience but less than Eden, due to his job

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Eden: Lotus and 69

Ghost: Missionary(especially if he is on top, holding her legs on his shoulders) and the full nelson (this in my opinion is Ghost's favorite general position)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It depends on the situation, they can have moments in which they are serious because they are touch starving and moments in which they laugh like two idiots (my idiots <3)

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Eden: She has slightly hair on her pussy, it doesn't bother her

Ghost: He has some hair but being blond they are very little visible (yes, including below) and it doesn't bother him when he eats her out

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

They are very romantic, Eden above all tries to reassure Ghost as much as possible, she wants them both to be at ease (they always have the key word) and Ghost loves being able to hear Eden's words of reassurance because they make him feel safe

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Eden: Eden has no problem with masturbation, alternating manual masturbation with sex toys

Ghost: He also used masturbation very often...but he prefers Eden to do it for him (she behind him jacking him off, maybe even with a fleshlight from time to time)

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Eden:

Sensory deprivation and it's a bit of a contradiction but for Eden seeing her partner or her wearing a blindfold is something that excites her at a certain point

Light bondage because it allows her to have control

Voice kink because Eden loves Ghost's voice when he begs her not to stop

Ghost:

Edging because he loves to test Eden and see where she can go (they are both switches even if Eden is slightly more dominant)

Breast/nipple worship man loves boobs, end of story(especially after they retire and Eden have nipple piercings)

Praise kink because Ghost needs reassurance and when Eden does that by calling him my big boy it's something that makes him proud

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Probably in their home but if I had to choose a different place I would say it was when they happened to do it in that bathroom in the Los Vaqueros military base, both of them didn't mind, especially thinking about the proud sense of belonging to each other

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Just a word, a look and a caress in both cases is enough to make it clear that they both want it. They don't need much (although Ghost gets very excited to see her wearing his favorite Everton shirt)

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Eden: the wax kink because since fire is one of her phobias, if she tries that it reminds her of what happened to her as a child

Ghost: The breath play because it reminds him of when he was buried alive

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Eden:She loves both receiving and giving, she literally wants Ghost feel appreciated (and she is very fond of foreplay)

Ghost:He loves to give, he would stay for hours and hours between Eden's legs until he becomes pussydrunk

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

They are both slow and sensual, for them every moment is important. Every caress, word, kiss must be done in such a way as to make the other feel pleasure. The only time their sex was probably faster and rougher was in Las Almas, when after much back and forth they finally decided to get back together.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Eden: For her there are no problems, if there is a hasty situation and he asks there are no problems for her

Ghost:He's not a fan of quickie things but sometimes he just happens to do something quick

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yes, they love risk (in the case of doing it in a public place) but if both agree (consent is always the key word)

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Eden: She has a lot of stamina, she could last for hours thanks also to her training

Ghost: This man is full of muscles so he can last several rounds too (sex with Eden always ends with them getting super sweaty, sex session are better than gym)

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

For both of them yes, sometimes to spice things up they like to use sex toys. Dildos, fleshlights, shibari ropes, remote stimulators. They love to vary.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Eden: Of the two, she's the one who loves to provoke, she knows Ghost likes her and sometimes she purposely wears things and speaks in a certain way to provoke him.

Ghost: He's not the type to provoke, he's just a guy who's standing like this🧍🏼‍♂️

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Eden:It depends on the circumstances but she's not very loud compared to Ghost, more this thing of whispering in his ear and moaning

Ghost: He's the grunting type, the type who tries to hold back but eventually fails and gets loud

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

Eden: Mh I think a random HC is the one who the first time they decided to have sex she wanted to have a session with him with her psychologist to try to understand what he didn't like, what triggered him

Ghost: One of the first times they did it on the sofa he accidentally grabbed the lamp and made it fall. They were laughing for half an hour with him still inside her, another thing is that he likes to put a thumb in her mouth between the act and letting her suck.

X = X-ray (let's see what's going on under those clothes)

Eden: trimmered on the side, a little dark blond hair in the upper part, she has small breasts, 34a, a tattoo on her groin

Ghost: 8 cm, with large balls and little fat. No trimmer as the hairs are blonde

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Eden: medium, it all depends on how she feels

Ghost:Also medium but slightly less than Eden, there are times he prefers cuddles to sex

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

After sex they always go for a bath but if the session lasted a long time they fall asleep immediately (sometimes even with him inside her)

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isobel-thorm · 9 months

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Call Me When You're Sober

Ship: Past Enver Gortash x Tav (Reina) Rating: M Summary: As pieces of Reina's forgotten past start revealing themselves, including her old ties to Lord Gortash, ignorance can no longer stay bliss, and she has her memories restored. Instead of fixing things, it only complicates them. Note: Features @euryalex's Tara, heavy spoilers for Act 3, NSFT (don't get too excited, nothing terribly spicy)

It wasn't supposed to go like this. Memory loss from a head injury was going to be a setback, not a curse. But seeing the apparition in front of her, she wasn't so sure.

“...I thought we were friends. Return to the city, find Orin, and claim her Netherstone as you agreed to do. And then I will forget this transgression.”

Reina stared at the flickering blue image of Gortash on the screen that had popped up on the sub, hardly paying attention to the threat. This was the face of the man who her old self was bound to, who had memories with her that were all but ghosts now. He had kissed her so thoroughly when he found out she wasn’t Orin in her form that it gave more questions than answers.

The projection’s eyes found hers briefly, and his lip curled again just as it had hours prior. Something inside her lurched. She hated disappointing him. But why? Why did this break her? He was a threat. He was a problem they needed to solve. But now he was stopping them from resolving a bigger problem. The phantom turned his attention back to Farowyn and arched a questioning eyebrow.

Farowyn leaned forward, closer to the screen. “Hey Gortash, cut the-“

“Farowyn, stop…” Reina’s voice came softy from behind her. It sounded off, too far away.

Farowyn turned to look at her. “What? You can’t seriously be considering his offer any longer."

Whatever challenge was on Gortash’s face seconds ago was suddenly gone, replaced by smugness. “Oh? What’s this? Trouble within the ranks? You should all listen to-“

“Gor-“ Reina cut herself off. No. Use the first name she had learned. Maybe it would help. “Enver. Please. You too. I cannot do this any longer. I’ve lost too many people I’ve come to care about when I’ve had nothing for weeks. I can’t let this happen. I can’t let you hurt anyone else.”

He was ready to meet her protest. “Good. So tell your people to turn around-“

“No,” Reina cut him off, trying not to flinch at the venom he had said 'yours' with. “Not to mention I’m down here, you blow this place up, I go down with the ship. And I doubt you want that. I have a new offer.”

He looked through her now. The resulting silence was deafening, only broken by the metallic clanging of the submersible. And then: “I’m listening.”

“You let these people go. The Duke, the Mind Flayer, the Gondians. All of these people go free.”

“For?”

“Me. You wanted your audience, you want to talk things out, it’s done. I’ll come willingly but these people get to see daylight again.”

Her friends all started talking at once, but she held up a hand to quiet them. “If you kill these people, we are done. No chances for ‘amends’ or ‘getting to know you again.’”

His image stared her down again, and something in the strange shift of energy made her feel like they were the only two people there in that moment. In another life, in another time, it should’ve felt romantic.

“Quite the bargaining chip you’re about to throw away, My Darling. You’ve assessed your value to me correctly. Underestimated, even. But are you sure you’re willing to play that hand now? Give yourself up for all these people?” His tone was the usual mocking he spoke to them with, but there was something else there this time. Then, without the mocking edge: “They’re strangers.”

“So are you.”

Something flashed in his eyes, even conveyed over the magical waves. He glanced away, clearly having battling thoughts.

Shit. That had hurt him, gotten him where it counted. It was good, but she knew it could end badly. She needed to make or break this. “But I’m willing to change that so long as this goes my way.” Still, she needed something else. “If you love me as much as you want me to think you do, you’ll do this.” The manipulation felt wrong, dirty, cruel - but this was his game and she was going to play it. Briefly she wondered if this was the old her coming through. Was she so vicious before, with her words like knives just like him? Is that why they had worked so well?

Gortash was silent again, fuming, and briefly Reina wondered if she had ruined everything, if he was going to set the place to ruin over her interference.

“… Fine. Conditions met.” He turned to Farowyn. “Go rescue these people. Be the heroes you so desperately want to be. We will talk when it’s sorted after you’ve surfaced.” He did nothing to hide the underlying threat. The alliance could be in peril now. “And Reina,” he turned his attention back to her. “Come home. Alone.”

The feed cut off, and everyone in the sub waited in dead silence for a few seconds. They hardly believed that it had worked. So they waited a few more minutes, but no threat came. The place remained intact- if not a little rickety.

Farowyn, Gale, Wyll and Astarion had gone down to retrieve Wyll’s father, Omeluum and the others.

Reina had stayed behind, lost in her own head and trying to help the survivors get settled as they came up. She tried to sort out the scraps that she had learned from the man himself. She had been Gortash’s right hand. They had been engaged to be married. They had a son. And there wasn’t supposedly a lie if the negotiation on the sub was to be believed. He loved- or perhaps just cared for her enough that he would trade anything for her safe return. There were too many moving parts now. She tucked her head down, hovering just above her knees as the world spun. It was too much all at once. She was torn, but why? Were her old memories somewhere in her brain causing conflict? Was she endlessly loyal to Gortash? Did part of her not want them to succeed for fear of losing him? By the time they had reached the surface and given up the sub’s captain to the ladies of the water, Reina had come to a conclusion. If she was going to Gortash, she was going to try to be prepared as possible. She was going to talk to the Emporer to see if it was possible to put her memories right. Maybe it was the tadpole interfering. And so she had taken the Artifact from Farowyn briefly, asked for an audience, and the Emporer had arrived, heard her request, and with a deep sigh- admitted it all.

The head injury she had chalked up her amnesia to was a cover story- fed to her by the Emporer no less. The Mind Flayer had come across her on the beach, recognized her from her past with Gortash, and upon knowing she was a fierce, powerful fighter they could use, had wiped the better part of the last thirteen years from her brain- all of the ties to Gortash. ‘I needed an asset, not a liability.’

It felt like the worst betrayal yet. Now all she felt like was a loose cannon with no clear allies outside the main group. Most of the trust she had built in him all but disappeared in an instant. Maybe she should’ve gone to Raphael about all this. Too late now. “Fuck that. Give me back what you took,” Reina spoke after a long moment. It was the only way she could trust him again. Besides, Gortash had named his terms: “Come home.” It was simple- but then she had no idea where ‘home’ was. And then she concluded she needed her memories back to have the biggest chance- and she would make the Emporer return them.

“That will prove to be an unwise choice,” The Emporer answered.

“I don’t care. I’ve lost enough. Give me back what you took. Give me back my life.”

“And if you revert to… your old self?” The Emporer inquired.

“Then you can sense it, and you’ve got all these people here to strike me down for it.”

“Are you… sure, Rei?” Karlach asked from the back.

Reina looked at her. Of course, Karlach would be the most skeptical. She deserved to be. And her heart ached for the both of them. It was true. What if she did come back… different? Her old self? How would she be with Karlach? Still, she wanted to try. Needed to. “I have to, Karlach. I can’t… not know. This whole time I’ve felt like more than my memories are missing, and now I know why, and I just-”

“I get it,” Karlach offered. She smiled weakly, but it didn’t reach her eyes.

“Hey, Emperor, everybody. Karlach gets the first and last shot at me if this ends badly, and I go back to Stab-Happy me.”

Karlach laughed weakly, and the others merely murmured in agreement, too weary to say much else. “For what it’s worth, love or loved the new you.”

“Same to you.”

Karlach hesitated, then pulled her into a hug before releasing her quickly. “Sorry. I just… needed to get that in. Just in case.”

“It’s good. I’m glad you did,” Reina assured her. She looked at the others, who merely watched her sadly or nodded their own brief potential goodbyes. She turned back to the Emporer. “Now, do it.”

The Emporer nodded. “It will feel strange,” he explained before he drifted over to her.

“Worth it.”

He extended a hand, and magic flowed between his fingers. He waited a moment, then touched her head.

The effect was immediate. There was a rush of strange energy, enough to send her to her knees. Her head spun, and then suddenly, there were rushes of images- memories.

She was young, surviving on the streets. A woman steals the bread she had paid a few days’ wages to get. She’s hungry, desperate. The next moment, the thief lies dead in the street, her blood running off the knife in Reina’s hand. It wouldn’t be the last time she did it. Several such occurrences pile on from the first.

The flashes continue as they slide back into place in her mind. Her first was certainly not the last. More people fall to her blade—some over important offenses and petty reasons. A Flaming Fist grabs her ass at a tavern. She pounces, clawing at his face and shoving a knife between his ribs. She’s got an audience. She’s immediately thrown out of the bar and is threatened that more of the Fists are on the way. So she runs- straight into a broad chest once she goes around the corner. One of the stranger’s hands cradles her elbow and the other her waist as he apologizes, but before she can accuse him of being a lech, his hands are gone. He introduces himself as ‘Enver’ and informs her he saw the ‘display’ at the tavern. She panics, and then he’s got the audacity to shush her, and she’s incredulous until he offers an easy, knowing, attractive smile and offers her a job. He’s got a ‘dangerous’ business to run, and he needs someone to watch his back who isn’t ‘afraid to get their hands dirty.’ She feels like it’s a trap of some sort, then he assures her it ‘pays handsomely.’ What was she supposed to do?

Time drifts forward. She becomes Enver’s right hand, mostly there to stand silent and look scary and produce a flame in her hands when things start to sour.

Men cheat Enver, and they meet her blade or fire - it doesn’t matter which one to her.

Enver wines and dines her on occasion after a ‘job well done,’ and the pair talk about their rough pasts. It’s nice knowing someone else out there had been so wronged. He starts calling her “Reina, my Reina,” and it warms her in all the right places.

Enver gains power, and ‘Gortash’ starts carrying weight around town. Still, people doubt his prowess, and they either suffer the fate of the others or they’re spooked enough by her looming presence that they relent.

Months later, there’s some big job. Reina doesn’t understand all the details. Still, Enver does most of the intimidating this time. She’s there for backup. It’s got no business being so attractive. After they come into their payday, Reina guides him into a dark corner outside his home when they’ve seen his buyers off, basking and emboldened with the heat in his eyes as he lets himself be led. She leans up and kisses him. It’s slow, and after a moment, Reina realizes he isn’t giving much in return, and she pulls back, afraid she misread the signs, and then suddenly he’s on her, crushing her to the stone wall and kissing her back with three times the force she had. Her world narrows down to him, trying to keep track of limbs when they get lost in each other, and when he hoists her up into his arms, she goes willingly, locking her arms around him as he tries to get back into his home as quickly as possible.

They don’t even make it to the damned bed. There’s a table in the foyer, and Enver shoves everything off of it before placing her on it, and they get to work tearing at clothes. And then he’s inside her as the pair exchange heated kisses. They eventually make it to his bed, and she rides him, and everything feels right in the world.

Life continues like that. She intimidates his enemies; he makes deals, they fuck. At some point, lust turns firmly to love, and she hopes it’s mutual. Enver recruits more people to the cause. One such person is Karlach, and somewhere where her minds are meeting, her stomach twists at the recognition.

Enver’s invited to parties now, given his reputation. He brings her on his arm, and she feels all sorts of powerful, enjoying the thrills of high society, the dresses, the wine, the poorly disguised competitions of who’s got more money or power or whatever the current interest was.

One such party has her in a flowing red dress that leaves nothing to the imagination. Enver can barely keep his hands off her between the business dealings, and she soaks it all in. They speak to someone; she can’t recall his name. Aevan, she thinks. Enver’s hands rest teasingly on her thigh under their dinner table as they talk business.

Reina grows bored with it quickly, and her eyes drift to a raven-haired elf in the corner, looking terrified. Tara. It was Aevan. They had known each other. Or maybe ‘known’ was a strong word.

After that, she sees Aevan more and Tara less. It’s a concern, but she’s not that invested. Business is business.

Somehow Enver grows powerful enough to deal with Zariel. She doesn’t know the details either, but he’s anxious. Karlach goes missing from the glimpses after that and she assumes there was a deal for her. Her current knowledge swims with the newly revealed information, and the twist in her stomach becomes a damned tempest. She knew. She knew.

Later, a doctor tells her she’s with child. Enver’s ecstatic, talking about legacy, a family. She points out that the mighty Enver Gortash shouldn’t have a bastard child. He proposes then and there, and she insists that he shouldn’t be ‘marrying the help’ either- and to his credit, he’s incredulous at that, assuring her that she’s more, but she refuses- and then tells him they’ll be married ‘when he means it’- she didn’t even understand that now. She wants to be ‘away from it all’, and the same should be said about raising a child. She supposes that’s clearer. Perhaps. Enver buys them another house in the Lower City by the water. A ‘Summer Home’ he had called it, though it had gained the reputation of a ‘Love Nest’ for those of his associates who had started to wonder about Gortash and his ‘Head of Security’ but had no idea about the boy.

Their son- Thomas, is born and grows. She takes a temporary retirement from her position to raise him. Enver’s a decent father, stopping by as much as possible given his ever-growing-busier schedule. He’s there for the milestones: first steps, first words.

Thomas is four when Enver gets the idea for what she now knows is the Steel Watch. When he’s at home, he tinkers with various mechanical pieces, talking at Thomas for the most part as the boy watches him without knowing what he’s doing. It’s a lovely, joyful sight for the old Reina, but the tempest in the new one’s stomach sours. Gortash is dangerous, not to be trusted, not to be humanized, but there’s something too soft in this. She knows it’s real, but it feels wrong. Enver isn’t Gortash.

The Steel Watch idea takes off. Enver becomes less of a laughing stock in town as the first few models help with Baldur’s Gate security.

She makes a passing joke about being redundant after the Steel Watch takes over her job. He assures her that it wouldn’t happen; she’s still his favorite guard and takes her to bed to prove it. It should’ve been sweet. Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong.

A competitor tries to kill Enver sometime after that. Enver survives, Reina comes out of retirement to strike the man down, and they move on, but Enver’s weary. Good, Newer Reina notes bitterly.

Enver makes a special Steel Watch automaton as a gift for Thomas’ seventh birthday. An added security measure, designed solely to keep close to Thomas, keep him safe from threats ‘as backup to his dear mother, of course.’ Thomas nicknames him ‘Shadow’ fittingly.

Months pass of the same. Enver starts a project that he keeps mostly quiet about. He’s quick to relent when she finally asks, holding her close and telling her stories about the Absolute and being a Chosen for Bane. It sounds like nonsense, but there had been rumors about these ‘Absolute’ attacks around the city where people credited ‘her.’ She’s skeptical, but he apologizes for keeping her out of the loop and promises to do better. Liar, New Reina thinks.

Unfortunately, she’s proven wrong. Enver’s very open about it and starts talking about ‘invasion plans.’ It’s still preposterous until he notes that it’s an easy power grab for them. A better life for them and Thomas. A nicer life, ‘no more shadows. Well, aside from our automaton friend.’

He eases her concerns with a kiss and a “Marry me now” against her lips. She agrees. He takes her to bed again, asking how ‘Lady Gortash’ sounds, going over a would-be timeline in the afterglow. There’d be a coronation. He’d marry her that day, declare her his wife after he was knighted. Let Thomas’ secret out. Sure, he’d have a reputation, but who would argue with a Lord? A Lord with Bane’s blessing behind him?

It works. New Reina wished it didn’t.

Old Reina teases him afterward, telling him she wants him all to herself- a small wedding before the pomp and circumstance. Only they would know about it, their little secret.

He agreed, and then, the following day, he arranged the paperwork and an officiant and married her by the sea a couple of days later, promising that she’d get the ‘real doting’ she deserved at the ceremony.

It hit Reina then as the memory slid home. The Coronation. When this version of her met him, she crashed her own wedding without knowing it. No wonder Gortash had been so stunned. Not only that, but she was a bride with no memory. That explained it. Orin had called her ‘Runaway Bride’ in the sewers. The missing pieces slid into place. All the confusion began to clear.

Fittingly, she meets Orin next in her memories. She’s terrifying as she was months or weeks or whatever it was later. Orin tests her, producing a knife seemingly out of thin air and dancing the tip along Enver’s side when he had been distracted enough when it first made contact that he didn’t react until it dug into his skin. Reina had been faster, however, rushing her and pressing the blade against Orin’s throat.

Orin had giggled at that and clapped, declaring that she liked her. ‘You’re much too fun for Gortash.’

She disappeared in a red cloud after that.

Reina had barely left Enver’s side after that- until she had to.

Some sort of ship appeared, ripping its way through the atmosphere. There was panic in the streets, and she had gone out to quell some of it, only for Orin to pop up in front of her when she had made it to the city proper.

“So sorry about this, Spare, but Gortash loves you so, so very much - it’s going to be fun watching him struggle without you. Hurting him is just… so delicious. Wonder how he’ll cope with a runaway bride.”

She had stared for a moment, then upon figuring that had been an apt threat, she pulled her knife on her, then froze when Orin shifted into a mirror image of her. She finally found herself on the receiving end of her own predatory smile. Orin-Her waved, and Reina turned to see a large tentacle directly behind her. She barely had time to react before it collided with her chest, and she felt herself get ripped to shreds-

And she woke in one piece, locked into some sort of apparatus in the dark- on the ship? She panicked, but the more she struggled, the tighter the strange bonds on her limbs and over her chest tightened. There was suddenly a hiss, and a red mist spilled into the pod. She fell into a deep sleep.

She woke to the sound of an explosion. She looked around, and there was chaos. The dark surroundings were engulfed in flames, falling apart. From straight ahead, someone had jumped out of a hole ripped into the ship's side. One of her future companions, no doubt. Sleep called to her again, and despite fighting it, she went back under. She woke up shortly after as the flames had grown since- but that also meant she had less time to escape. She struggled again, and the bonds loosened. Good. Whatever mechanic had been hit controlled her bonds. She rotated her wrists experimentally, and when the bonds gave more, she faced her palms out towards the glass, focused, and sent flames hitting the cover. It shattered, and after some maneuvering, she wiggled out the rest of the way. She found her footing and immediately headed for the hole, but the ship suddenly lurched and sent her flying.

The ship took another hit, and the velocity sent her straight for the hole. She was relieved- until she cleared the ship and realized just how far up the ship had been. There was a thousand-foot drop from her and the ground, and it was closing in fast. Well, that just did it. She was about to die due to someone finally cheating her. It was karma, she supposed. Thomas, I’m sorry.

New Reina held her breath just as much- this was it. How it all happened.

She closed her eyes and waited, expecting it to all stop, but even as she could hear the wind growing louder, passing around trees or whatever would be her grave, it all stopped. She risked cracking an eye open, only to find she was surrounded by some sort of purple magic, hovering a mere few inches up off the ground. What in the Hells? The purple faded, and she was dropped gently on the ground. She sat up and then panicked again when the space in front of her seemed to tear open, and a Mind Flayer stepped out of the gap. She screamed, only for it to lift a hand- and silence her. That did nothing to her, and she tried to scream louder and went for her knife, but it was long gone, probably lost in the fall.

The Mind Flayer stepped closer and shifted his hand. “You. This is a surprise.” the Emporer’s voice entered her mind. He closed in, touching the side of her head, then the front. You will be useful. Well, if that wasn’t a terrifying thought. “Be at peace. I will find you and the others later.”

Suddenly there was a tremendous pressure- not pain, but not pleasant either, and Reina felt it all over again as she realized this was the turning point- undoing whatever memory magic he had used.

The matching sensations collided, and whatever remaining loose ends in her memory slammed back into place, and Reina was whole again- no Old Her, no new. Just her. It was overwhelming and dizzying, and when she felt The Emporer’s hand release her - the snap feeling was enough to send her to the ground, retching. Even her magic was skewed by the sensation- she felt flames explode from her hands into the sand below them, and she would hardly be surprised if she pulled glass up with them.

Her head stopped spinning, and she looked up at the others. The Emporer observed her, subtly leaning towards Farowyn- a silent order to be ready to strike. She looked at the others gaping at her, but then her focus immediately shifted to Tara and Karlach, standing together, also leaning towards each other, clearly aware that they’d be the most affected by the retrieval of her memories. She shot upright, and they visibly tensed, ready to go onto the defense, and even if she expected to be attacked, she launched herself at the pair of them, looping an arm around each of them, pulling them closer, shoving her neck between them so she could force their heads together. She didn’t know when she started sobbing, but she was. “I’m sorry. I’m so fucking sorry. I couldn’t- I can’t- I-”

“Good. We get Rei back. So long, Bronze,” Karlach offered, careful where she held her to return the hug. “Can’t exactly forgive you from back then, but this one? Yeah. ‘Sides, I guess Gortash’s dick can be a hell of a manipulator. Unfortunately.”

Reina managed a half-laugh, half-grossed-out groan that matched Karlach’s even as she made the joke. She looked Tara’s way, and when the woman offered a reassuring smile but said nothing, she sighed, trying to gather herself. “Aevan’s on the list of bastards we take down after all this if we make it out alive. I promise.”

“Sounds good to me,” Tara agreed.

Reina looked at the others, who were all watching them curiously, either touched or relieved- to her own surprise, Astarion was in the group of the former. She turned her attention back to the Emporer. She opened her mouth, then shut it.

“I hope you can understand. It was the only way.” It hesitated. “I implore you honestly: Can you pursue our cause with this knowledge? I will know if you lie.”

She stared at him incredulously, then sighed. “I…” Did she truly not know after this? Her mind was still swimming with the possibilities, the conflicting feelings. Could she betray the man that she did love? Gortash hadn’t remotely lied about that. “Yes. But… my son. I need him safe. I… I need to play the field, but I’m with you. En- Gortash has caused too much damage. They all have. My son’s got nothing to do with this. He’s innocent, he doesn’t understand.”

The Emperor waited a moment, then nodded. “See that it is done. I sensed no ill will in the boy. Hardly his father’s son.”

She didn’t care for his tone then, picking up on a hypothetical threat. If he did show any of Gortash’s personality, what then? Protectiveness swelled in her. No wonder she had been so inclined to care for every child she came across. It was probably part of her trying to remind her of Thomas.

The Mind Flayer picked up on it and put his hands out, this time in relative surrender. “He’s safe from harm; you have my word. I have no doubt you’ll keep him from straying from the right path.”

She didn’t know how to dignify that with a response. “I’ll make contact as soon as I can.”

“See that you do,” The Emporer responded, keeping her gaze when she glared back at him.

The others protested, too, promising not to stray far from the estate once she pointed it out on a map from the glimpses she had seen. She had said her goodbyes then and headed for the Upper City, finally reaching their mansion. Bronze accents were everywhere. She supposed they really did have a color theme going.

The front door opened and Gortash himself looked back at her from the threshold. She couldn’t read his face, much like she couldn’t on the sub. Sure, there was cold fury there, disappointment, skepticism, but something warmer. Relief? Hope, in an ironic twist? It was a small comfort that she didn’t know, even with her memories intact. She understood him less than she feared.

They continued the stare down for a while, and when Reina took a careful step forward, eyes not leaving his, he finally stepped aside and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Reina, My Reina. Welcome home.”

#OC: Reina #I cranked this out in less than a day. Who am I?#x: Fire & Gasoline #Gortash x Tav

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mister-eames · 9 months

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1/2 Recently you’ve gotten a few asks about Eames & the first time he sees Arthur doing [insert something salacious or ridiculously innocent] & i’ve been loving it! But let’s turn the tables on arthur now! What about the first time Arthur sees Eames after he’s had to bulk up for something, the first time Arthur gets a full view of Eames’ tattoos rather than just a peek, the first time he sees Eames in a fitted suit or with a beard?? (Think Tom in the drop. Soft bearded eames ftw!)

2/2 even better if all these instances happen pre-get together or prior to them becoming coworkers/friends with benefits. I think Eames has suffered enough in his pining and thirsting; it’s time for Arthur’s turn 😏

Okay so I took a hot second to answer this one because your ask really inspired me to make a gifset based off of this, but the last couple of days have been a bit of a shitshow so that is on the backburner for now.

Okay, okay - so, Arthur first seeing Eames all bulky and hirsute - like Arthur didn't even know that was a thing that he was into. He's always dated clean cut men and suddenly here comes Eames of all people, beefy and thick and hairy and looking as if he could pick Arthur up and throw him across the room. It's a regular Tuesday morning, Arthur is nursing a lukewarm coffee when he has, for the first time in his life, the sudden urge to be manhandled. He wants to tussle like a schoolboy. He wants to know how wide his knees would have to spread if he were to straddle Eames' waist, his thighs.

And Eames is just standing there, on the other side of the warehouse, stroking his (surprisingly ginger and very well-maintained) beard absent-mindedly, talking to Cobb. Somehow Eames looks incredibly soft and firm at the same time and it's doing things to Arthur. This is his first crisis of self.

Maybe it's the height of summer and Eames has taken to walking around in a muscle tee (thank u tom hardy) - maybe he unbuttons his shirt a bit and fans himself with Arthurs paperwork and has the audacity to be competent at his job while he's doing it (the worst part of it all!), meanwhile Arthur's entire world has been narrowed down to a few simple words like beard and soft, and i like bicep, and they rotate around in his brain like a rotisserie chicken while he's trying to do his damn job. Second crisis.

Does Eames cotton on that Arthur is having his entire world flipped upside down? Probably not. I think he's great at reading people but when it comes to Arthur Eames cannot look at him objectively, can't read him without his own wants, desires and hopes clouding his judgement. Is Arthur licking his lips more often? Yes, but it is summer and Arthur may be parched. If Arthur is attracted to him he's never said it, and Arthur never has a problem telling Eames what he thinks (right?).

#THANK YOU FOR THE GOOD FOOD NONNIE #i have also been rotating this in my brain #tom hardy in the drop is just... !!!!... you know? his beard is exquisite #I am all for Arthur absolutely not knowing what to do with himself #like yes he was very much attracted to Eames before #but this has taken a fire and poured gasoline on it #the worst part is the competency though #there is professional admiration #and Arthur has plenty of that #but this is messing him up a bit #Arthurs life is so very unfair #arthur x eames #inception

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cloudofbutterfliesnsfw · 27 days

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Nsfw Tumblr link but Eden sent this in meantime Ghost is in his office

MDNI

#simon and eden core #ship: fire & gasoline #eden core #eden x ghost #x:fire & gasoline #eden “spectra” park #call of duty oc #ghost mw2 #simon ghost riley #ghost cod #cod ghost

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lightdancer1 · 5 days

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See the further irony is:

That in using 'Mall Goth Sauron' as the take on Dark Willow over 'misogynist has character randomly killed for LULZ' it also allows for greater accountability on the one hand and for Season 7 to thematically focus on repairing all this damage in the midst of facing an enemy of shadows reliant on lies to further itself. The only way to break the Druj is the absolute Truth in a very Zoroastrian sense. Characters don't get to neatly skip past accountability for their actions, and this would spiral over into further later seasons with the essential reality that in an otherwise lower-level setting this one random girl from California is a Dark Phoenix-tier reality warper and the most powerful person on the planet, or the universe.

And the questions of how that power could and should be employed on the one hand and that Willow is essentially a Doctor Strange type who beats up Gods and Eldritch Abominations for her regular line of work where her counterparts deal with the more 'street level' crises would in turn be the logical conclusion of where the show ends. She doesn't do as much physical fighting for the same reason that Stephen Strange never uses magic to go punch the Hulk in the face, her narrative role is ultimately that of Sorceress Supreme of Earth, with literally nobody in an ancient established war anticipating that this one random ginger from California was and is the new Sorceress Supreme and that if they had had such awareness the realities are that this power would and could have taken worse forms.

Unfortunately for the world, the reality too is that it is a shy computer geek who has a not at all subtle dark side and the usual teenage anxieties and insecurities given the equivalent of being able to reliably actually do things other people might dream of but can never do.

But again as long as Dawn Summers being a good thing is a narrative convention that's established memory magic is a poor choice to show the corrupting effects of reality-warping. It's a case of 'yes as established in canon all of this is true for that one season but then they decided to retcon it, so the fans are not obligated to care about it any more than the canon does about this itself.'

#willow rosenberg #tara maclay #dawn summers #you will never convince me as long as Dawn Summers is a plot device that 'memory magic unforgivable' is anything but bad writing #it was the choice used but there are other equally toxic things that could have been done instead #the basic theme of 'very powerful person decides things for another in an abusive fashion' works just as well without it #Tara's growth arc in refusing to tolerate abuse even from the person who brought her out of her shell can stand perfectly fine #it works even better with a budding Sauron than abruptly deciding 'wholesale memory rewrites good retail unforgivable.'#killing Tara off also denies her any sense of closure or ability to get that closure with the person who does this #the entire element here with the way things went down is bad writing from Point A to point Z #and it's also easily forgotten but Tara wasn't in fact intended to be Willow's love interest #she was replacement Willow for sympathy points #her entire arc as such became Willow X Tara but it was a choice from actor chemistry #So in giving Tara a role besides 'Willow's Girlfriend' it arguably does better by her character #tara x willow #btvs #and yes yes the 'scale changes things' argument is true but only to a point #it's really no different to introduce Dawn than what Willow did #if the retail is wrong so is the wholesale and the decisions to make this that point of no return is an avoidable mistake #plus honestly imagine a Season 7 Tara going 'sweetie no' and a Season 7 Willow dealing with those consequences in real time #equally one can have Tara's cold turkey approach stick exactly as it was #and serve as her role in the time bomb because she's a product of an abusive family and not an infallible moral guide #she rightly sees the problem and at least tries to address it when nobody else did #but unfortunately her solution was pouring gasoline on the fire and then vacating the range where the fire would burn #still further between that and Willow being human enough to resent being told to take that pain and do it going it alone #there'd be plenty of reasons for a surviving Tara and Willow to spend season 7 broken up as is #Tara would not at all be wrong to be wary and not want to touch reformed Sauron with a 400 foot pole #Willow equally would resent someone whose bad advice helped create the problem and who evades any recognition thereof #good old fashioned drama with entirely human motives

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galacticwildfire · 2 years

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Poe Dameron | Fire Meet Gasoline

Poe Dameron x Original Female Solo Character

Hope Solo's haunted by the night the temple burned. Having gone rogue she hunts the First Order in search of answers until a fateful encounter with Poe Dameron brings her back to the Resistance and Leia puts her daughter under his command to find Luke Skywalker.

Sparks turn into something far more dangerous between the two pilots as their charged rivalry leaves them reeling with no one to turn to except for one another and a complicated partnership is forged. They battle their feelings and each other as tensions rise, only to find themselves with a deeper understanding of one another than they could have ever thought possible, but Hope knows all too well what happens when Skywalker's fall in love.

Darkness follows her as their mission sends her onto a collision course with her brother, the master who failed her and the only person with the answers she seeks as a First Order conspiracy threatens to frame her as the true heir of Vader, the Jedi Killer.

Prequel

Prologue

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Nine

Ten

Eleven

Twelve

Thirteen

Fourteen

Fifteen

Sixteen

Seventeen

#poe dameron #poe dameron x solo!oc #poe dameron fanfiction #poe dameron x oc #poe dameron x original character #solo original character #skywalker original character #solo!oc #poe dameron x solo original character #star wars fanfiction #star wars original character #sequel trilogy fanfiction #poe dameron x f!oc #poe dameron x female original character #fic: fire meet gasoline #oc: hope solo #galacticwildfire

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deberiaestarescribiendo · 2 years

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"Burn with me tonight" Unnamed Pedro Character x f!reader

Pairing: Unnamed Pedro Character from the music video x f!reader

Summary: just me making theories about this video and lusting since 2014, I was finishing university when this came out, i was doing my final dissertation that i completaly hated it so every hour i would take a small break and watch this as a treat. I remember my roomie coming to my room like "girl you're obssesed with that Sia song" I asked her if she had seen the video and she said no, so we watched it togheter after a few minutes in silence she said "I get it now" Anyway, I watched it again recently and made a little story out of it cos I actually don't know what's going on on it but I'm living

I'm sorry for any grammar or spelling mistakes I had just finish it

Listen to the song and watch it it's amazing

I’ll be there at midnight

He felt like a summer storm. As if the sky weighted mountains over you. The air around your bodies was thick and electric, it pricked on your skin, made it feel damp and sensitive, like every hair of your body knew and waited impatiently for the sky to break. He felt like fire in your blood, like a dormant fever ignited in you from your longing heart.

So many sleepless nights sneaking him inside your house, letting him into your marriage bed while your husband was away. The house silent, those white walls that felt like a prison were now white holy rooms of worshipping bliss. Filled with your moans and muttered words

Does he fuck you like this, huh?

He had asked the first night. His worn-out jeans barely off, under his hips, your hand holding him, nails pressing hard on his muscles, and you didn’t care that the hard fabric was chaffing your thighs. He had crashed on your bed with you like a wave on a cliff. In a haze you said many things that would later make your face burn.

No, never

Please don’t stop

Harder

Please

You bit his lips, licked and savour them like they were Manna from heaven. Sweet ambrosia from the gods.

This mouth

These lips

Your neck

Your breasts

Your hips

Your thighs

He named every part of you before kissing it reverently like a list of accomplishments, of wonders he had found. And you never felt so devoted, so desired. So, when he asked if you’d run away with him, you said yes. How could you not?

Clandestine meetings on the field where the town would not find you. Hiding on his pickup car until you were far away, where the sun and the air were as free as the two of you wanted to be.

You were chasing each other like children run. Just for the sake of running and feeling the fresh air drowning your lungs like you were drowning from his love.

He caressed you over the grass, the sun making his eyes look darker and sweeter. They were deep, holding so many secrets.

When he made love to you, you held his gaze trying to see more from him, trying to decipher him.

“I can barely breathe when you're here loving me” you whispered to his lips “And I feel like dying if you’re not with me”

The stranger had come out of nowhere. Across the street, you had locked eyes. It was meant to be, like the water from a river will eventually collapse the bridge, like one day a dormant volcano will erupt. You ached, ached for love, for affection, to somebody to see you. And he saw you.

Long distance looks around town, on the porch, longing for something you had never tasted. Like a bright red apple tempting, he was there just across you, calling you to take a bite.

And one night he came, when the lights of your husband’s car were distance orbs in the pitch dark. He made an excuse, he needed something, you barely remember what it was now. But then he was in your house, and he was listening, looking at you so intently. You thought you have never talked that much, after so many years in which you’d open your mouth and a few minutes passed before you’d realize you’ve been blatantly ignored. But the stranger listened, looked at you after so many years thinking you were a ghost, almost to the point of questioning if you really existed.

The stranger politely made his way to go, and you didn’t know how to make him stay. Your eyes so wide, so pleading, a voice so fragile escaping your lips, so wounded it made you cringe asking him if he needed anything else

“I need something else, but your husband might not like it”

In other lips, in other men that line would made you kick his butt out of your house. But not his, maybe braver or maybe weaker than you haver ever been, you kissed him. Chastely at first

Open your mouth for me

The stranger deepened the kiss, forcing your mouth open to his, bend to his will and his intrusion. You should have been ashamed, when he hauled you to your bedroom, invade your marriage private room, dishonour your vows in such a primal, hurried way. His jeans barely off, your skirt over your hips, panting breaths, forbidden sins. A fire came to you, like throwing a match over gasoline.

He burned the shame out of you, he burned your doubts and your regrets, your longing and solitude.

Like the snake that tempted Eve, he crawled into you, made root inside you like ivy in an old house, invading until every thought is

Him

The odds were bad, you knew it, a certain death to your life as you knew it, a bad bet to put everything you knew at risk for a stranger, but you wanted, and you got it.

Why waste your life here? With him? You’re withering like dead flower

He caressed you with a small white flower he had pick up for you, his mouth trailing right after from your lips to your throat

Leave him

Come with me

Those thoughts grew stronger each day, every minute you had to leave him to mimic your past life, the one you were already so detached from. Your husband had never noticed you, but now he was vigilant, his eyes on you at every corner, the question lingers on the air. Grows heavy every single day he doesn’t address it.

Leave him

Let’s build a new life

You never answered the Stranger until he had to go.

“Please, please you can’t leave me”

“Come with me”

“I can’t, not just like that”

“I can’t stay, it’s tonight or never”

“Please I need some time, how can I take my things and go? What would I do? I have nothing on my own”

“Take what you need from him, he has taken so many things from you already, it what he deserves for treating you that badly”

“You mean I steal from him?”

“Just take what you need and what you’re owed”

He made sound reasonable. Just take what’s rightfully yours, surprisingly your life could be packed in just one small backpack, and you chuckled watching the small bag full of your tiny pitiful life, so unassuming, you had let your life shrink you to almost nothing, to a shadow of a woman, a small soft breeze of air that was almost unnoticed, like magically the food was served every night and the clothes were clean. Yes, the stranger was right, he deserved to be abandoned like he had left you since the day you had said yes. You searched over your husband stuff, some pocket money and surprisingly a nice blue velvet box, a small hand note addressed the present to some other woman. The shine of the diamonds reflected your stupefied face. So many secrets under one roof. You grabbed it feeling the need to pull at it until the stones would rip off, but you preferred to get it on your bag.

The clock stroke midnight and the lights of his car illuminated briefly your room. With one last glance you sealed your destiny. The bed, the one that was cold for so long and the one that hand hold so many secrets and promises and pleasure was neatly done.

That perfect little house, with its white exterior and fresh cut grass and suddenly the urge, that fire he had planted inside you, ignited. The flame of the match flickered on your eyes; with a snap of your fingers, you threw it on the bed. At first a small flame almost consumed by the air and the sheets, didn’t seem to catch fire, but then it became feracious, eating and consuming the fabric, the dark cloud growing painting the room black.

The stranger didn’t say a word when you came out, the flames on your room visible from outside. He hugged you and watched the fire consume everything while your heart pounded against his while you whispered

Burn with me tonight taglist: @littlemisspascal

#Pedro Pascal #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal characters #fire meet gasoline #pedro pascal fandom #Unnamed Pedro character x f!reader #jose pedro balmaceda pascal

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